Reply #34: Oh, I was no big man. I was just a cog in a great big wheel. Proud of it to this day.

[cherokeeprogressive]

I joined the Navy in 1981, less than two years out of high school. Up until the day I joined, I was a painter at the South Gate General Motors plant. I made KILLER money. I could work as much overtime as I wanted. The day the plant closed, I stopped at the Navy recruiter's office in Whittier on my way home, and told the guy behind the desk to talk me into joining the Navy. He got this glazed look in his eyes, gave me a 100 question test that included at least 20 single place multiplication questions, then told me two things five minutes later. One, NO one had ever finished the test so fast, and two, NO one had ever aced it. I did both. I should have known then and there that I was being bullshitted, but I was mad about being laid off at General Motors, and that clouded my judgment.

Whether or not you believe me isn't important. I'm not trying to paint myself as anything other than who I am, and have been.

This guy, my recruiter, promised me ANY JOB I WANTED once I had taken my ASVAB test, and cut a 92. Then the paperwork started. After a while we got to the questions, and he asked me if I had ever tried any drugs. I laughed. He didn't. Then he asked me if I had ever been arrested. I laughed, he didn't. I had been arrested about four times for "failure to appear", which means I didn't show up for court dates that arose from traffic tickets. The tickets happened before I was 18, and I was scared shitless of my father, so I never told him I got stopped in the car he bought me because he needed to be in court with me since I was a minor. That led to my nearly not being able to join. I wound up in front of a Navy Captain in downtown Los Angeles, and he tore me a new asshole (WHILE I was still a civilian) and screamed that "failure to appear" was tantamount to "disobeying a lawful order" and that the Navy didn't need me. I got up to leave, disgusted, and before I got to the door, I heard "Hey Mr. XXXXXXX, maybe I was a little too hard on you. Come on back, son, and let's talk."

I joined the Navy as a "non-rate", which means I wasn't guaranteed an "A" school after boot camp.

Skip to 360 days after my first day in bootcamp, when I was five days away from an automatic advancement to E-3 (it takes a year). I was at "Captain's Quarters", which is pretty much like criminal court. My ship (The USS America) had just left Palma, Spain, on it's way back to Norfolk after a six month deployment. On our last night in Palma, I got caught coming back from liberty with a tiny little piece of hash in a cigarrette pack. I was an E-2, and my punishment was reduction in paygrade, and restriction to the ship for 45 days. 99.9% of the other sailors who got busted for anything similar got OTH (Other Than Honorable) discharges. I worked hard and had a good reputation, so I got a pass, if you can call it that. So, I got back to Norfolk as a BRAND NEW E-1, and didn't get off of the ship with my squadron (VS-32, "The Maulers" an S-3A squadron), and didn't get to go back to Cecil Field in Jacksonville, FL for 40 days after we tied up. I had to stay on the ship and muster five times a day when I should have been back in Jacksonville with my wife of just over a year. I lied to her about why I was on restriction, and didn't tell her the truth until a couple of years later when I was drunk and feeling guilty about keeping something from her.

After that, I never missed an advancement. Three years later I was advanced to E-4 (AMS3) in the first increment after competing in Navy-wide advancement testing. Between there and my next command (VA-128 "The Golden Intruders" an A-6E squadron based at NAS Whidbey Island in WA) I took the test for E-5 and advanced in the first increment. I left VS-32 as an E-4, and checked into VA-128 as an E-5 (AMS2). God damn, it was like being in a whole different world... E-5 is "someone" while E-4 ain't. Not only that, no one there had any clue about my getting busted for THC. Advancement to E-6 (AMS1) was a breeze.

My last command was VA-145, another A-6 Squadron. In Jan 89 we were getting ready to go on a WESTPAC/IO cruise and I worked in QA. I was out on the flight line watching three kids trying to change a tire on one of our birds. If you've never done it, it's a bitch to get the keys on the inside of the wheel lined up with the slots in the disk brakes, and if three people don't know how, it's a clusterfuck. I knew how. I lined up the slots, got a good one at straight up twelve o'clock, and rotated the wheel until the key was at twelve also. Now, if you're good, you can get the wheel up onto the axle by yourself with the right motion. I squatted in front of the wheel, rested my wrists on my knees, and used my wrists to hold the tire while I used my knees and thighs to lift it. I got it up onto the axle, and lost my balance. I wound up having to sit down with the wheel in my lap, and my knees turned to the side. I tore the ACL in my left knee in half, and didn't walk again until six weeks after I had ACL reconstruct surgery at Bremerton Naval Hospital. They actually brought an ambulance out onto the flight line to get me when I got hurt. The bitch of the whole deal was that as a QA representative, I was NOT SUPPOSED to touch tools, parts, or involve myself in any kind of maintenance whatsoever. My job by that time was to sign for "safety of flight". I signed off on the work, I didn't do it. My bad for trying to teach three kids who didn't know how.

After my surgery and rehab, I was all prepared to join my squadron on the USS Ranger (they had already deployed) and was told that by virtue of having had the reconstructive surgery, I was no longer "fit for duty". My life was shit after that for a good while, and I actually attempted suicide.

Now, my friend, you can continue to call me a liar, and it matters not a whit. Your opinion of me, good or bad, doesn't pay my bills or put food on my table. I've come back, in a big way, and am now semi-retired and living in a resort community in the mountains of Southern California. In fact, I just got married last month, for the last time, and am so laid back and happy that you could probably kick me in the shin and walk away unharmed.

Don't call me a coward though. That's cowardly in itself. It doesn't make you look like a big person. It might if you called me that to my face, and got away with it, but that's not the situation we're in at the moment, now is it?

We disagree on things. On a message board. Stop trying to be the big chihuaha on the block. It's not becoming.

As far as Jesse Ventura/James Janos goes, he's a tool. The Navy Seals I know think he's a tool. Many Navy SEALS have gone on record to say he, as a UDT member, was not a SEAL.

Maybe you were a big fan of Jesse "The Body" Ventura. That's cool. Jesse "The Body" wasn't a hero until he stepped into the square circle. There's nothing wrong with being a fan though.