As i'm sure with all military personnel, being able to call oneself a Sailor, Soldier, Marine, Airmen, honestly Coasties what the hell do you call yourselves because I have no idea aside from the above? Me being the fresh 18 years old and with all the esprit de corps being pumped into us, I was no different. The time was November 2007 at Great Lakes, Illinois home of Recruit Training Command. My division had passed Battlestations probably 2 days before (for those who don't know, during basic you wear a ballcap that says "Recruit" on it, and once you pass you exchange it for one that says "Navy" on it), so now we were just waiting until Pass and Review. So probably the next night our RDC's marched us down to what was known as "Recruit heaven" as it's where the phone banks were located, the NEX (Navy version of the PX, AAFES, etc), an arcade, and a couple fast food fronts. We had only been there to pick up any needed personal items, and to make our 2 phone calls. We were told to halt outside, and then our Chief told us we had an hour or two to get any food we wanted, use the phones, play any games, etc completely unsupervised. So needless to say we were all ecstatic at this prospect! Myself and a couple buddies immediately got in the line for Taco Bell, unbeknownst to me, in my excitement I forgot everything I had learned and had unzipped my utility jacket, but didn't actually take it off. Blood was now in the water, within moments an unknown to me RDC was staring me in the face and saying "Sailor, either zip that jacket up, or take it off, you're setting a bad example for any recruits that may see you!". I flash backed to reality and immediately regained my military bearing, shedding my coat to comply with his statement. That's when it hit me, this "Red-rope" (RDC's wore a red aiguillette signifying their position) seemingly treated me as an equal of sorts and called me a Sailor, even if it was because I was being a shitbag!

However, as Morpheus said "Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.", as the Navy in their infinite wisdom ended up barely letting this Sailor see water. For the rest of my time before getting my beloved DD-214, I got to play in the field and desert. My sole sea time being taking a helo onto a DDG in the northern Persian Gulf, transferring to a RHIB (rigid hull inflatable boat, think the things you see SEALs scooting around in) with a VBSS team (visit, board, search and seizure) and some Iraqi Marines doing my secret squirrel thing, going back to the ship and immediately helo'ing back off. This fact wasn't lost on my jealous brother who was a Navy nuke, nor my other brother who ended up in the Army and was able to relate to me far easier.