Sloppy Sailor no.3...On Hold. (457 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.4 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by RockDocv2.0 (View user info) at 2007-12-21 10:47:48 EST
They called it TPU. I had no clue what it means, and to this day it's meaning still eludes me. I was pulled from my family to report to this holding unit for a few days, because aircrew school was full at the time. So I moved as quickly as possible, hoping that maybe I'll get some leave and spend some more time with Primm.
Of course that didn't happen. I was given time for one phone call, and I had to use that to explain to my new fiancé why I wasn't allowed to see her for the next few months. I should have known that would be a precursor to every relationship I'll ever have in the Navy, but that is whining fit for another day.
The few days I was promised turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. I continued with my physical training as a SAR scruff at the big pool a few hundred meters away from our home. (bit of a bitch when its snowing outside) days were long and hard, there was no actual work for me, just training at the pool, pushups, pull-ups, swims, weights, and whenever the seals would get a hold of us, that's when the real fun would begin. They beat us, horrendously, but I grew stronger, and that's all that mattered in my mind.
My first snow.
After graduation from boot camp, we were treated to this thing called "liberty". In English it means that you're done working, you're free for the day. TPU was no different. There was weekend liberty, and since we were close to Chicago, might as well see what Chicago has to hold.
Now, I'm not a small town guy, Lakeland is a fair sized city; and I'd been to Tampa before. So I'd seen big buildings, seen what a city was all about. Or so I thought. Chicago blew my mind. The city was huge! I had never seen so many people before, moving this way and that, so quickly, as if something more than the sheer majesty of the city was on their minds. Personally I couldn't' see how that was possible, my liberty buddy (a guy from the Philippines...again) was equally blown away. We went everywhere we could, venturing out in the city was more than just a break from the ship, it was a chance to experience the biggest city that either of us had ever seen before. We sampled the food, rode the train (I personally thought the subway was the coolest thing ever) and we just generally had an amazing time. Something larger was in store for us though, something that would lay Chicago to rest as the "coolest thing to ever happen to me".
It began raining styrofoam.
That's what I thought it was. I thought a styrofoam truck had exploded and now it's cargo was raining down on us. I asked my libbo buddy what the hell this white shit was, he looked at me like I was an idiot.
"I'm from Manila!" he said, annoyed "I never even felt cold before!"
No help there. I reached out my hand and caught one. It was cold. Very cold.
No way. I hoped it was snow, but hey, one never knows.
"Hey man," I called out, "I think it's snow!"
"No way!"
"Dude, I think it's snowing on us or something!"
"not styrofoam?"
"I don't think so...it's pretty cold, touch one of these things"
He did, and he was as excited as I was. Snow. Real snow. Last time I saw something like that, it was in Munn park, and they brought in truckloads of snow from somewhere up north for the kids to play in. I had never seen it fall from the sky.
I was overjoyed.
Looking back on this moment, I wonder if I was really stupid as that little exchange makes me sound, or if I just didn't want to believe that I'd actually see snow fall from the sky. Remember, I'm from central Florida; snow isn't exactly a regular occurrence down there.
Broken.
A few days after the snowfall, I had gotten into a fight with some guy in the ship. He kicked me...rather forcefully, in my crotch.
I shook it off and hobbled away, not thinking anything was really going to come of this. A couple days later, I couldn't walk as well as I used to anymore. Days turned into weeks, and I was hobbling around, having to sit down. Things had grown very large down there, and the pain was excruciating. I knew if I went to sick call though, I couldn't continue to train, and they would hold me back even longer for SAR school.
I also knew that I may have destroyed my chances at ever having kids, and besides, it really fucking hurt.
So, after being found sitting down on watch one night, I was forced to go the clinic. A sonogram and a very stern talking to led me to find out that I had been harboring a very large hematoma, and that it was going to take a few months to heal.
No working out. The doctor said. No running, no lifting, nothing. Lay in bed and relax. He gave me pills and sent me on my way.
Several weeks later, after having finally been cleared to go back to training, I showed back up at the pool, ready to start all over again. I told the instructors what had happened, they laughed, but understood, and after a low grade thrashing, I was sent away for the day.
SEAL instructor Cassidy had different plans though.
I was afraid of this man. Deathly afraid, he was big, he was mean, he could do pull-ups with two 45 pound weights strapped to his belt. He honestly frightened me. He looked kind of like Debbie, my mom's friend. and for some reason, that scared me even more.
He came out to beat us. I couldn't get away quickly enough, and he beat us good. I couldn't handle it. I had weakened while I was healing. Weakened immensely. It was too much. On one exercise, we were to take the biggest dive weights we had, and duck walk around the Olympic sized pool, it was the sixth and final exercise, and I was already behind. I was definitely feeling the effects of my absence, and this was not going to end very well for me. I got 2/3 of the way there, when everything just stopped working. I couldn't move. I was stuck in mid lunge. The dive weight was wobbling, but my entire body seemed to lock itself. Instructor Cassidy, seeing a SAR scruff struggle with one of his exercises came out to motivate me. Which consisted of being screamed at, a lot. This didn't bother me. Knowing that my body wouldn't do what I wanted it to do, did. I pushed as hard as I could, and nothing budged. I felt a cold sweat break out on my body, and Instructor Cassidy told me I looked "really fucking pale" and he asked me if I wanted to quit.
I didn't answer.
The rest of the seal candidates and SAR scruffs began to yell encouragement, but it wasn't enough. Instructor Cassidy asked me again if I wanted to quit.
again, I made no sound. Still trying to get up.
Finally get down to my face, about this time I was having trouble focusing on him, and he screamed "do you want to fucking quit you weak little shit?!"
I mumbled something.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?!"
"I can't...I can't...."
"I quit? is that what you're trying to say?"
I didn't want to, I couldn't move, I knew that if I passed out, he wouldn't do a damn thing, just let me flounder in my own waste.
I nodded my head.
"say it" he growled.
I stared up at him with all the rage I could muster, rage that my body had quit working, rage that I was going to quit. Rage that I was weak. That I had come this far for nothing, that I was worthless, not even worth the sex my parents had to have me, all of this went through my head.
"yes"
"good" and he slapped the bricks from my hands, grabbed me around the arms, jerked me up and shoved me to his office.
The end result was that I was no longer welcome in his or the SAR instructors presence. I was to never come to the pool again, and that I would be placed on the duty roster at TPU.
A month or so later, I left for SAR school. Breaking had a profound experience on me. It gave me a bad habit, made me believe that even if I do my damnedest, I'll never be good enough for what I want. So why even try? It was with this attitude I left Chicago. It would prove to be my undoing in Pensacola.
User Reviews
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2007-12-21 12:43:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
you ain't the only one feelin old.
Submitted by rockdocc (user info) at 2007-12-21 12:38:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2007-12-21 12:33:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Transient Personnel Unit.
TPU at Great Lakes was a shithole in 1995. I remember having to go help them throw out and load over 200 mattresses into that old brick blockhouse.
We had some kid DIE on the base during a major snowstorm, he was trying to walk from the McDonald's across that open field / track where they built the Signalman shacks at, and white-out conditions blinded him and he froze to death out there on the fucking field.
How the hell do you do that? I don't know. Natural selection I guess.
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still a shit hole in 2003.
damn that was a long time ago. Fuck I feel old.
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2007-12-21 12:33:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Transient Personnel Unit.
TPU at Great Lakes was a shithole in 1995. I remember having to go help them throw out and load over 200 mattresses into that old brick blockhouse.
We had some kid DIE on the base during a major snowstorm, he was trying to walk from the McDonald's across that open field / track where they built the Signalman shacks at, and white-out conditions blinded him and he froze to death out there on the fucking field.
How the hell do you do that? I don't know. Natural selection I guess.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-12-21 11:42:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by rockdocc (user info) at 2007-12-21 11:24:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2007-12-21 11:03:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Why anyone would subject themselves to this kind of rape is beyond me.
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there are way too many explanations for this. Some, the SEAL candidates did it because they always wanted to be seals, always wanted to take the fight to the enemy in that fashion. I can't vouch for most operators, I was never one myself, though I have had the honor to go on missions alongside one of the teams out here. its something that pervades the very core of a man, it's an inability to give up, to relish the toughest that life can throw at you, it's a desire to be among the best. that's what the operator i spoke with told me.
I have thought about going back. Doing it all over again. I need to fix my back, and honestly, if I decide to attempt to become an operator, I'll go for swcc or possibly in the air force as a PJ. It wasn't that I wasn't strong enough at the time, it was that I didn't want it.
It's sad that now I do, and I can do nothing about it.
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2007-12-21 11:07:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
temporary personnel unit i think.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2007-12-21 11:03:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Why anyone would subject themselves to this kind of rape is beyond me.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-12-21 10:52:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by rockdocc (user info) at 2007-12-21 10:49:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
ahh....when the going got tough.
I quit.
it's an awesome defense mechanism.