Back from Christmas break in January 1969, we were then among the “veteran” officer candidates at NAVOCS. Indeed, we were only about a week short of becoming the “senior class” and five weeks short of commissioning. The end was almost in sight.
Our “routine” continued as routine . . . interrupted by the unusual. (We’ll post later about such activities as firefighting, abandoning ship drills, inoculations, etc.)
We arose, or we might say were rudely awakened, at 0530, which in January was zero-dark-thirty. My roommate, Lenny Borg, says he remembers steam coming into the heating system 15 minutes before reveille. “The darned pipes clanged so loudly they always awakened me.”
Then, as Lenny recalls, upperclassmen would bang on already opened doors to our rooms and gently exhort us. “FALL OUT! All out for ooh-ahs! On the gouge! ON THE GOUGE!” Morning calisthenics — pushups, situps, ooh-ahs (maybe something like a crunch?) — commenced in the passageway. (We had been taught that the physical elements of our “dorm” were to be called what that would be called on board a ship. Hallway=passageway, wall=bulkhead, ceiling=overhead, floor=deck, stairway=ladder, etc.)
Chores, get into uniform, muster in formation at the chow hall, breakfast, class, drill, muster in formation at the chow hall, lunch, PT, class, drill, muster in formation at the chow hall, dinner, “free time,” study, taps. Over and over, except for the occasional variation (e.g., standing inspection), weekly event (athletic competition, pass in review, etc.), or periodic event (standing Officer of the Deck watch in/on the lobby=quarterdeck of our building).
We had the hang of it about now. Refreshed by some time spent with families and friends in the civilian world, it seemed, to me at least, that we felt ready to assume our position as leaders of Alfa Company and almost ready to be Naval Officers.