The Galley

                               C077 February – April 1990

General remembrances from the Galley. This won't cover work week. That will be a separate post.

Ahhh, the Galley, what can be said about it? Without the Fine Navy Chow, we would not have made it through boot camp.

The first impression was from the first morning at RTC. I had no clue what was happening since I was exhausted. I did not understand a word of what the RCPO at the entrance was even saying. What the hell is brightwork? We had 10 or maybe 15 minutes to eat, I know others had other times.

Now, I have a bad habit you can call it, I am a picky eater. I did learn to enjoy some new foods during my Navy time. So, that was a good thing.

Before we entered the porch captain gave us the rules to the galley. These were pieced together with the help of many. (If anyone knows the proper phrasing, please let me know. Yes, I am writing a book.)

Company C077 These are the rules to my galley

You have 15 minutes and 15 minutes only to enjoy your fine, fine navy chow. When you have finished, please pass all gear adrift forward and carry along the bulkhead smartly. Don’t touch my glass, don’t step on my brass, you smear it, you clear it, you scuff it, you buff it. Take one fork, one spoon, one knife, one bowl, one cup, one plate.

Company C077 carry on lines 6,5,4,3,2,1.

Let's see, I remember fried bologna on my first morning. I thought it was ham. Imagine my surprise when I took a bite of that. That first morning the guys on the other table were talking to us. We were all scared to talk back, but we did.

It was something like, "Hey RIF, when did you get in?" I hated that term, RIF. RIF had different meanings, Recruit Induction Facility, Recruit In Formation. Basically an FNG or Nub.

I also remember there was a whole lot of yelling in certain locations. At the scullery and at the entrance doors. The workweeks loved to mess with the new guys.

Break it off and bring it around was heard a good deal too. Make a hole. Nut to butt.

The food for me was a challenge. Most of it was decent. I never knew you could make chicken in so many ways. I kept getting the hindquarter, and I am not really a dark meat guy. One day I asked the server if I could get the breast section. SHE pushed her chest out and said, "Which one?" The guy behind me slapped me on the back, laughing. We got yelled at, but I did get the chicken I wanted. We went to that line a good many times during that week. She kept giving me the breast section for the rest of the week. She gave me a smile, too, each time. What can I say? The chicks just dug me!

One meal a senior company was in front of us. The guy in front of me kept giving me shit about being in a junior company. We were probably about week two by then. He was bragging about going home and getting to eat real food in a couple days. He got the last portion of whatever they were serving that day. So, I had to wait. That senior guy laughed and said, "Enjoy the sloppy seconds RIF."
HA! The joke was on him, we got ravioli and grilled cheese!

I had no idea when I figured out when the RCPO outside told us to "Carry on Lines 6,5,4,3,2,1" that it actually meant the different lines in the Galley. I followed the guy in front of me and went where he did most of the time, which was line 6 most of the time.

One of my first times leaving the Galley, I stepped on the "brightwork." That is when I figured out what that was. I know that workweek loved getting to yell at a new guy. Yes, I scuffed it, I did buff it. Last time that happened until my last morning.

After workweek, we were no longer a junior company. We slowly were given more time to eat, and we talked more. The girls on workweek would forget to write our time down, and they would hang out near us more and talk. It was fun. Then the best part, we got to give the RIFs a hard time.

Our last breakfast was possibly the best. We were going home that day, and everyone knew it. Our cadence caller used the old RIF cadence as we came up to the Galley. The RCPO recited the entire speech for us too. Then "Carry on lines, 444,333" right down the middle of the Galley for our last meal.

That morning we and our sister company were the shit. We were the Senior Companies at RTC! We talked to everyone, other recruits shook our hands. Then we sat across the table from some RIFs. 

Believe it or not, we did not hassle them too much. One guy looked around and finally asked us, "What day are you on?" The guy next to me looked at his watch and said, "we have like 2 hours left." I looked at my watch and said, "Yeah, 2 hours." The poor new guys about cried. We gave them the Senior pep talk.

Leaving the Galley for the last time, all of us stepped on the brightwork, then we put a handprint on the window.

Looking back, it was really a sad day. Off to the division to pack and leave. 

I found the picture yesterday. It must have been just before it was all demolished. The broken limb laying there filling in for a company ready to have some Fine Navy Chow.