Thinking about joining the Navy? Think again.
Are you looking for adventure? Do you want to travel the world? Bang a different girl in every port? Join the proud tradition of tough as nails sailors who drank ‘til dawn, fucked all night, and routinely engaged in bar brawls? Unfortunately, you won’t find any of that in today’s Navy.
As proud as I am of my military service, when my enlistment contract was up, I ran for the hills. The reason is simple: feminists and social justice warriors have completely hijacked a once proud tradition. To illustrate, allow me to take you on a tour of my five years as a sailor.
The beginning: boot camp. When I enlisted, I was 6’1” and 150 lbs. I wish that I could say the trials of boot camp prepared me for combat, instilled discipline, or at the very least transformed my pathetic physique. Unfortunately, the most difficult part of boot camp was stenciling all my clothes with my division number and last name. Oh, the tedium!
As for PT, it happened, but more often than not it was just lip service. The one bit of boot camp I was looking forward to was the obstacle course, but to my surprise I never encountered it, which I later discovered was because someone got hurt and they saw it as an unnecessary risk. I guess no one ever told the brass that war itself is a risk, but hey, if you make things too tough only the strongest of recruits would make it through, and god forbid any females wash out.
And here’s the best part. Should things ever actually become too difficult for you, you’re now given a “training time out” card you can show to your Chief so that he (or as is more often the case these days, she) will know that your feelings are in danger of being hurt. How’s that for an experience you can be proud of surviving?
Despite the formidable odds against me, I somehow made it through boot camp, where I was immediately shipped off to train for my job code, an avionics technician on F/A-18’s. I would find out that the site of my training, Lemoore California, would be my permanent duty station.
Sound glamorous? I’d never heard of this desolate wasteland either. The thing about Naval Aviation is that since planes fly, you aren’t guaranteed of being anywhere near the water, so for many, San Diego was a paradise only experienced a night before deployment. Still, aviation was one of the more desirable positions, as squadron life was generally an easier draw than what the “boat chucks” had to endure.
By easier, I mean an average of 12-hour days, five days a week. On deployment, that becomes seven days a week. It isn’t difficult to understand why sailors love to blow off steam on their rare down time. The problem is that where once the exploits of testosterone addled young men were largely ignored, now the most minor of infractions results in demotion.
A great way for brass to string up sailors on trumped-up charges in a mockery of a trial is known as Captain’s Mast, a term I became all too familiar with (or Article 15 for other branches). Rather than risk a full court martial where one is subject to the full extent of the law, Commanders take it into their own hands, and the rules of evidence don’t apply.
Sailors are brainwashed into thinking the truth will set them free, and even if in the right are subject to the whims of very fallible CO’s who operate under the direction of superiors who may or may not have a vendetta against you. Your life turns into walking on eggshells.
Now there are plenty of articles on ROK dealing with false rape accusations, so I won’t go into too much detail, as my stories are anecdotal in nature. But the fact that I personally know of three friends that went through the rigmarole of getting their names cleared after alleged sexual misconduct is chilling. All three were later cleared of any and all wrongdoing, which in today’s women-can-do-no-wrong atmosphere speaks volumes of the legitimacy of the accusations.
The armed forces are a microcosm of larger society, almost like a testing ground at times for social experiments. Affirmative action, gay rights, PC bullshit, communal living areas, women on submarines, and—we can only hope, because the spectacular, inevitable failure would be hilarious—females as part of special warfare are all part of the modern Navy. Save yourself the headache.
I hear the Marine Corps still has pockets of toughness left.