more frantic and frequent the demands became. Holding my breath, I resisted joining in the chorus. But inside I was thinking, Get that damn door open! Finally the door came open, and people began to file out. Here is where I encountered a situation of people lacking in good manners. I believe it is called PANIC.
What happened was the guy on my left, instead of allowing me to take my turn getting out, poked me in the ribs with his elbow, so he could jump ahead of me. Those behind me, began trying to push their way forward. When I got elbowed the second time, I could see my only choice if I was ever to get out, would be to elbow the next guy on the left side, before being pushed down to the floor by those impatiently waiting behind me. I did, and escaped through the hatch.
Looking around, I could hear and see those who had been shouting so loudly and repeatedly for the hatch door to open. They were all lying on the grass, coughing their lungs out. I on the other hand, was breathing nicely, having let out the last of my air as I was going through the exit hatch.
Then there was the poor “mama’s boy.” What a sad sight to see. Fortunately he was in another company. In all, I believe they had around ten different companies present for fire fighting training that day. It took at least four hours for the training session to end. After each company had completed the smoke filled room, and then put out the oil fires, they were permitted to sit on the grass and watch, as one by one the other companies did the same. Our company finished early, so the rest of our time was spent watching the other companies.
This is how I am able to tell you about the “mama’s boy.” He was reluctant to enter the smoke filled room. He had been the last in line. But when it became his turn to go inside, he ran away, and had to be tackled. The Chief in charge of his company came to him and asked what was wrong. “I don’t want to go inside of there, I’m afraid,” was his answer.
The Chief said, “No you’re not!” Then yanking him by the arm, he had someone open the door as he physically threw the boy inside. Quickly they closed the door and turned the wheel, then waited. We all could hear his screams for help. “Mama Help me! Mama, PLEASE HELP ME! MAMA MAMA! OH MAMA PLEASE HELP ME!” This was his frantic plea, as he stood there pounding on the door. Minutes went by, and his voice became weaker and weaker, then the pounding stopped.
Opening the hatch door, his almost unconscious body lay at the floor. The Chief reached in and pulled him out. He was coughing heavily from having inhaled so much smoke. Patting him on the back the Chief said, “What’s the matter son, rough in there?” To which he shook his head in agreement. “Well that’s O.K; you don’t have to go in there now. You just rest and clear your lungs. I hope you get to feeling better. You just sit here and watch, as the others go inside, O.K.?” Again shaking his head in agreement, believing the worst was over for him. Was he ever wrong!
First, the Chief had left him sitting by the entry to the hatch. So every guy entering the hatch, looked down at him and mockingly called him, “Mama’s boy!” Secondly, it took about ninety minutes for the rest of the companies to go through that hatch door, and exit from the other end. Then in around another ninety minutes, all of the fires had been put out.
At this point all of the companies gathered at the smoke house, where “Mama’s Boy” was still sitting comfortably on the grass by the entrance hatch. The Chief in charge of his company then came up to him and asked most sincerely, “Are you alright now son? Are your lungs clear?” To which the boy answered in the affirmative. “You can breathe O.K. now?” the Chief asked, just to make sure. “Yes sir, I can breathe just fine now,” was his reply.
Yanking him up by the arm, the Chief then said, “Good, because you’re going back in, and this time you are going through to the other end and out the hatch!” “No, No, Oh Please No!” the boy pleaded. “YES, YES! And OH YES YOU ARE!” the Chief mockingly replied. “OH MAMA! The boy began. The Chief said,
“OH MAMAS NOT HERE NOW, I AM!”
With that, he pulled the boy inside with him, ordering the door to be closed. A few minutes later, both of them exited out the other end. They both were coughing, and everyone was applauding the Chief for his action. I don’t know how Mama’s boy faired in the Navy. But I hope this incident helped him on the way to becoming a man. Unfortunately, there are still lots of Mama’s boys running around out there today. Far too many of them get elected to Congress, the Vice Presidency, or worse yet, the Presidency. We need more like that Chief!
We were taught how to put out a fire, one of the worst of enemies on a ship at sea. To do so, we had to put out a large fire started in a big round oil filled tank. The importance of teamwork was stressed. The power of the water at the opening of the hose was amazing. We each were given the adventure of trying to control its direction. It would take from three to four of us, working in unison, to get the water directed on the fire. Although it took awhile, each company was able to successfully put out the fire.
YES – IT’S REALLY TEARGAS!
A day or so later we got the thrilling adventure of entering the teargas room. Each had been given a mask to wear. First we marched in a column of two around the room, holding the mask above our head. Then we were ordered to put on the mask, as the teargas pellets were about to be released. Once again we were warned not to yell, or open our mouth. As the pellets were released, you could see the clouds of white smoke rising and getting dense.
Around and around we went, this seemed like a breeze. Then we were told we would be receiving the order to remove the mask, just to prove to us it really was teargas, and the mask really did work., We were again warned against holding our breath. You know me, when the order came, just before removing the mask I took my third deep breath, hoping no one had seen me. Thank God I could hold my breath for over two minutes, because as we marched twice more around the room without the mask on, it took at least that long to get out of that room and into the fresh cool air outside.
This time, all of the guys were coughing a lot. So I joined in, acting, and giving out with fake coughs. I did so, because I could see we were being watched to see if any weren’t coughing. NOT ME – I COUGHED! They should give that boy an Academy Award! Rule breaker? Not really. Just smart enough to know I already believed they were using real teargas, as they had said they would. I simply decided I did not need any proof, so I held my breath.
THE BOYS FROM BROOKLYN
Things went well for the first day at camp, until the problem manifested itself. The problem was a young boy from Brooklyn. Flunking out of high school in his senior year, his father had made him join the service against his will. From what we learned later, his father was ashamed of him, and wanted to be able to say to those who pointed out his failure, “At least my boy is serving his country! What’s yours doing?”
Also, we later learned, this boy had been abused by this poor excuse for a father. About two weeks before he was due to attend Boot Camp; he tried to run away from home. Not having enough money, he came back. His cowardly father had beaten him badly (he had arrived with a swollen lip, and black eye). His father had said, “I’ll be damned if a son of mine is going to be a coward! You are going to go to Boot Camp!” Yelling this over and over as he beat his son, his mother just watched in silence. Sadly, we did not know right away, but all of this had caused the young man to mentally crack up.
I believe it was on our third day at camp. We were going to a large auditorium for inspection. That place was HUGE, there must have been at least 30 companies assembled there, each having eighty men. We were supposed to be dressed in our dress blue uniforms. They are the blue ones having the white stripe. We also were not supposed to have anything in any of our pockets.
As
