If you read this, I may have to kill you - Part One

You see this movie or sitcom all the time - a normal guy in a strange situation surrounded by kooks and other characters. I can honestly say that this happened to me. It was the strangest six months of my life; so strange that I've really never told anyone about it at all. But that story is actually part two of this little two parter. First, you have to understand what my life was like prior to these events, and that's where Part One begins...

I graduated from Boot Camp just a few days before my 19th birthday. My parents and girlfriend came up to San Diego to witness me standing around and marching. My visit with them lasted only a few hours, however, because I had to be back on base for an early flight to my training school in Virginia. In those short hours between graduation and the rest of my life, I handed Karen a letter that was a preliminary foray into the question of whether or not we would get married. I had spent six nights in a row guarding the bathroom in our boot camp barracks so that I could find some free time to write the letter, but that's an entirely different story.

The next day I flew via Chicago to Virginia Beach, VA and got a ride from there to a Dam Neck, VA military base just outside Virginia Beach. There I enrolled into my training class at the Navy and Marine Corps Intelligence Training Command (NMITC). The first week was spent cleaning, as we waited for our class to form up out of successive arrivals from boot camps around the country. By the end of the week we had 20 members in our class.

The core course of Intelligence training is 8 weeks long and covers the basics - classification, delivering briefings, typing, etc... After the core course is completed, each class is split into one of two groups. There was the Admin. Intelligence Group, and the Photographic Interpretation Group. The Admin. Intelligence Group were the guys you see in all the movies, doing the analysis, debriefing pilots, giving the captain the raw intelligence he needs to guide a ship. It was a 6 week long course with a high drop out rate. At the end of 6 weeks, you could be 90% guaranteed to be headed out to sea on a ship. But, you did get a Top Secret Clearance right away. I decided that I really didn't want to rush out to sea just yet, so I took the 14 week Photographic Interpretation Course.

During my time at the training school I had many friends. Joe and I were inseperable from the moment our class formed. We'd go to movies, hang out, and talk a lot. His uncle was Dan Quayle's personal secretary, though he retired when Quayle became VP. Shoemaker was our ragin cajun and he could make a mean drink. Reed was a goof ball, like me, but more immature. Heidi was the lone girl in our group - she ended up marrying Reed. John was the old man of the group, who'd started on the ship as a seaman and had finally gotten a chance to go to a school and learn a real trade. He was the leader of the class because he outranked us all - he was also a great guy. And then there was VanBebber. Vanbebber was the guy that everyone hated - but probably none more so than me. He was effete, cloying, and an insufferable know it all. But, worse than that, he was a sycophant - always rubbing up to the people in charge whenever possible. If he was gay, it was only news to him.

I took to intelligence school like a duck to water. Without even having to think hard, I aced almost every test I took. P.I. came naturally to me. By the end of school, I had broken the school record for most points earned on tests in the program - actually, I had shattered the old record (this was soon to be a sign of things to come for when I got out of the Navy and went back to college).

At the end of every class, the Navy awarded two bonuses to the sailors selected by their class leader as the most deserving of this honor. The bonus was an immediate advancement to the rank of Petty Officer. After I had aced my last exam and shattered the record, I felt certain that I would be honored with a bonus - it almost always went to the best student. Not only was I shocked when I hadn't earned the bonus, but I was double shocked to discover that Van Bebber had.

To make matters worse, I was visibly upset about it afterwards - talking with my friends, and Van Bebber came by.

"Are you going to cry, Robison?" He taunted. "You know the only reason you didn't get the bonus is because you're a scumbag."

I have never before, nor ever since, had to be restrained by my friends. It was a good thing they were standing there, or I would have beaten the crap out of Van Bebber then and there, right in front of the Captain's office. Fortunately, my friends rushed me out of the building and back to the barracks where I could go to a graduation party and forget about the whole thing.

When I graduated from NMITC I received my orders to the Fleet Intelligence Center, Pacific (FICPAC) in Pearl Harbor, HI. Though not one of the locations I would have chosen, the idea of spending three years in Hawaii was appealing. I was riding pretty high. I had proposed to Karen, who had said yes. I had a new job in Hawaii. And I was finally away from that jerk, Van Bebber.

But, did I mention that the bonus winners also got their first choice of duty assignments? Well, that's a story for Part Two.