Classification Day

C077/K051  Feb 21 – Apr 25, 1990

I am going to lump two days together since they are related to one another.

First, we had “The Moment of Truth.”

This is where the Navy gave us some big talk about being honest and telling them everything we did not tell our recruiter. I got to miss the big long talk since I had a medical appointment for my eye. So, I go right back to the legal team. They tell me to spill it. Admit I did drugs previously or some other crime I had not told them about.

I bet nearly everyone’s recruiters told them not to say a word at this point because it was all just a big show. (Don’t want to say lie.)

As the company was getting the big dog and pony show, I sat in the back, getting asked. I did tell them about a ticket I had, which I did not tell my recruiter about in the beginning. So, I get jumped on as to why I lied. I was not in the best mood that day, so I shot back, I did not lie to anyone, I was under a good deal of stress when I enlisted, I forgot. I get told to stop being a smart ass because I was actually one.

I only ever pushed back on authority twice in my Naval career. Once at the moment fo truth and once with a Chief who was being a total ass. I flat out tell the guy about my enlistment in a short period and being a new father. I was stressed when I did the paperwork because we were against the clock to get me into Chicago MEPS. The guy actually slightly backed down and dropped the “you are a liar” attitude, but we still did the paperwork.

I do it and go off to the bus to the Naval hospital.

Now, jump forward to our Classification day. I think maybe the middle of week three? But do not hold me to that. Off to the administration building where we all sit in a big room. There was a line of desks with detailers, I believe, and a series of offices with specialty people. The nukes sat in one location, and we went in alphabetical order. Yeah, me first.

I sit down across the table from a Chief, and he starts asking me all of the same questions they ask from “Moment fo Truth.”
“Ever do drugs?”
“No, sir.”

“You are lying.”

“No, sir.”

“I have your best friend from high school out there who will say you two smoked pot all the time. So, he is lying?”

“Yes, sir, he is. I never smoked pot in high school.”

Now, I will admit here to a Naval group for the first time ever, I truthfully never did smoke pot in high school. I did at the Technical College I went to after that, but never in high school. OK, I do feel better now for getting that off my chest.
So, I get him to believe me on that. Next, he gives me a hard time about speeding tickets.

“How the hell can you operate a nuclear reactor if you cannot keep a car under 55 mph?”

“That is a good question. I guess I can only say, I will have far more training on how to do that then when I was given my divers license.”

He harps on tickets for a while longer. The truth on those is I had gotten all of them when I was between 17-19. So, for three years, I was a good driver.
Now, here comes the beginning fo the end of my nuke career.

“Seaman Recruit Adams, you have a C- in the first quarter of High School algebra. Not good enough.”
“But, Chief, I had far higher after that and then A’s in geometry.”

“Not good enough, you need a C average. And why didn’t you take more math in high school?”
“Because I went to Technical College after, and I took through calculus there. My algebra was much better there too.”

“I see you have an Associates, but where are the transcripts?”
“I was told the high school was enough, so I did not get them.”

“But why no other math in high school?”

“I guess because I did not imagine when I was in high school, I would be sitting here talking to you 5 years after I graduated.”

“I need your college transcripts so you can continue to nuke school.”

So, we hassle about that for a little while longer. He says I have to write a letter to the Navy telling them why I want to go to nuke school. And, I need to get my college transcripts and return them as quickly as I can to him.
 OK, I go out and start my letter. The next guy in, forget his exact name, but it did start with a B and sounded French. He was also Native American. He gets hassled because he had used some drug-related to a Navaho tradition. The same story as me, go out and write a letter to the Navy. I think every nuke had to do that.

I get done to take the letter to the Chief and get told to go sit down with the company. So, as I am sitting there, I see another group of guys in the room. I find out they are what is called Nuclear Waste.

My story with the detailer does not end here. I receive my college transcripts. I go back.
“What the hell is Technical Math 1-4?”
“Algebra, Gemotrey, Trig, Caluclus.”

“How do I know that? This is not good enough.”
“What do you want, sir?”
“Just a minute, I need to call somebody.”
He makes his call while I am sitting out in the big room. More ex-nukes are waiting for the detailer. I start to talk with them. One particular tells me to avoid nuke school if there is any thought you cannot make it. All of the ones I am talking to must have washed out in A-school because none are third class.

I get called back into the office. Now, this is what gets me in trouble later when I get back off leave from boot camp. I am told, go home on leave, talk to my school, and get a letter about the math classes. Report to nuke school and give them the letter.

However!!! That is not what was supposed to happen. I was supposed to go on hold in AT Land while waiting for the letter from my school. Then a determination was to be made about me continuing on with nuke school. If I stayed a nuke, I would go directly to NTC. If I reclassed, I was to be put on hold awaiting orders, then if that happened, get my boot camp leave.

It seems both the Navy and my mom were working against me getting married. See, I should have listened!
But, even when I eventually got my orders, they said, leave, then nuke school. So, I followed those.

The rest of the story is I eventually did drop a nuke and went with Gas Turbine school. But, I had to wait a month in AT land back at RTC until I got my orders to NTC GLakes. Which was actually a good deal of fun. It could have been even better if I had dropped my moral compass. Those stories are for another day.

Oh, my buddy, the Native American guy. He was dropped from Nuke school because of drug use in the ceremony. We spent 3 weeks together at AT Land. He applied for both Deep Freeze and the Navy Medical Research Lab in Louisiana. His orders came in for the research lab. Until he received them, he had no idea which one he would get.

I lost track of him, we did a horrible job of sharing addresses.