Old Cape May
Remembering Boot Camp………
By Bob Reding
It
must have been a childish whim,
That
caught me unaware.
I’d
join the Coast Guard, leave my home,
Now
folks; please don’t despair.
I’m
eighteen now, almost a man,
It’s
time I made my mark.
September
fifth of ’55,
For
boot camp I’ll embark.
They
put me on an eastbound train,
Mom
cried, and Dad’s eyes glistened.
He
had really tried to reason,
But
me, I wouldn’t listen.
I
needed to cut those apron strings,
See
all that life’s about;
Until
I met my drill instructor,
All
he could do, was shout.
Do
this, do that, desist, belay,
It
was hard those first few days,
We’d
barely get a grasp on things,
Here’d
come a whole new phase.
“FAIR?
That’s what the county holds once a year.”
Quotes?
He had a vast array,
“TEXAS?
Nothing but steers and queers in Texas,
Don’t
see no horns on you”, he’d say.
He
shaved our heads, took our pride,
Treated
us like dirt.
No
matter what he did to us,
We
dare not show it hurt.
Hut,
two, three, four,
Pushing
us to the limit,
Not
one of us, would give in,
“There’s
the pool, you boots, now swim it!”
“Yes
sir! No sir!” On and on,
The
days dragged into weeks,
We
drilled and studied, drilled some more,
He
made us feel like freaks.
The
first few weeks went by so slow,
How
long could we hold out,
But
soon we started noticing,
Our
hair began to sprout.
We
looked around, saw new recruits,
Heads
shaven, slick as glass,
Six
weeks gone by; we’re halfway through,
And
soon we’ll see the last.
‘Twas
now apparent, what had escaped,
Our
attention until then,
So
obvious, this bullying,
To
turn boys, into men.
It
didn’t make it easier,
Now,
that we understood,
The
drill instructor, kept up the pace,
Even
harder if he could.
The
weeks began to pass us by,
A
little faster then,
Even
more determined, we became,
To
see it to the end.
Finally
the day arrived,
The
finish was at hand,
We
marched with pride, our chests swelled up,
To
the leading of the band.
We
all survived, those hectic days,
The
“twilight” of our youth.
Becoming
men, as men become,
Rough;
at times uncouth.
I
think I am a better man,
Even
to this day.
For
having spent, those twelve odd weeks,
At
a place called “Old Cape May.”