What a great day that was. I woke up early again that morning and prepared for graduation. Once the private commissioning ceremony was done, my entire class gathered in the gym. The music played and out we marched. About two hours later, I not only graduated, but I was officially an officer in the United States Navy. But, it doesn't stop there, I became an officer in the Civil Engineer Corps. It was a spectacular feeling. I think the weirdest thing was to be addressed as "Sir" by the Gunnery Sergeant who was my drill instructor for the last twelve weeks. It didn't seem appropriate that for nine weeks I was yelling as loud as I could and as quickly as he would put us on our faces, he was now calling me sir. The previous three weeks that led up to graduation were amazing in terms of weather. It was as if once we became Candidate Officers, the clouds parted and bright sunny days were there for us to have. The only exception was graduation day. It had gusts of 40 mph and carried rain with it. The scene that I had described to my family was nothing like what they got to experience. But, by 10:00 that morning, I no longer held residence in Nimitz Hall seated in the heart of Training Country.
The next two weeks were spent traveling. New York City, Pittsburgh, Chicago, and Lincoln were some of the main stops on my way back to Northeastern Colorado. This trip was especially amazing because I now had a navigator. My wife Sarah was with me finally. We made it to Colorado to see my mom holding the house door open for us telling us to "Come in, come in!" Even though a few days ago we had just seen each other, it was still like a new hello. Sarah and I sorted through all of our Household Goods, HHG, and waited for the movers to arrive on time. Sure enough, they did. They unpacked and packed all of our belongings and put them in a truck and said "See you in Mississippi!" Sarah and I then were on our way there too. By this point, things were rolling just fine. I had taken countless trips to Personnel Service Department, PSD, to make sure things were in order for the move. I had an agenda to take us to Lincoln to see my brother and his then fiance for a few days and then sync up with the movers when we got to Mississippi. The time in Lincoln was spectacular as always, although there's never enough time to see everyone. Our next leg of the trip was somewhere in Missouri. By the time we were about 100 miles away, we noticed that it was still early in the afternoon. Hotels.com got a call and we had a new hotel reservation. Next stop, Memphis, Tennessee. This looked to be a long drive, but not as long as I would have imagined. We took a highway though the Northeast corner of Arkansas and what a spectacular drive that was. Those Smokey Mountains are something else. As we were about to leave Arkansas, we noticed a storm on the horizon. We drove and it got dark just as we caught the storm. The next two hours were spent white-knuckle-driving. The rain was too heavy for the windshield wipers to keep up with and it was blocking out the reflectivity of the paint on the road. It brought back a distinct memory of driving to Kearney, NE in the same situation only I was driving a 1984 Mazda B-2000 Sundowner pickup. It weighed every bit of 500 lbs. This time, the bigger vehicle did play a safer role in getting me to my destination until we drove into Memphis. Two things happened simultaneously. Memphis had poor roads and Memphis got a lot of rain. Highways with posted speed limits of 65 mph had inches of pooled rainwater on the surface. The darkness hid all of them. The only time I could anticipate a pool was right as another vehicle hit it splashing all the water on my windshield. Thankfully, with no close-calls, we made it to our hotel for the night. Our trip the next morning was much nicer - probably because the rain cleaned up everything. Nevertheless, we were six hours from Gulfport. If you've never been to or through Mississippi, the easiest way to describe it is with an analogy. The state of Mississippi is like a bumpy lawn with tall grass that sits as the edge of a pond. The roads sit in areas that have been mowed. Everywhere else, tall grass. Prior to entering the Navy, I had met people from all over the country and when I speak of my Western Nebraska upbringing, the inquire about trees. My usual response was one that said "yeah, we have a few trees, by the creeks and rivers, but not many." Well, I am changing my answer, after driving all over thus far, the answer is no, Western Nebraska does not have any trees, comparatively.
We arrived in Gulfport and made our way to the apartment complex that we had picked on the internet. We took the tour and decided that this was the place to live. Our excitement of an early arrival was shot down because although we signed for it, we couldn't stay because the carpets weren't cleaned yet. We holed up, literally, in the cheapest place in town for one more hotel night. The next day we drove around while we waited for the carpets to be cleaned and came to check them out in the afternoon. Everything was going well until I got a call from the moving company telling me that my HHG wouldn't be there today. And not only would they not be there that day, they wouldn't arrive until Monday. Some of you who have connections with military life have heard of the dreaded PCS move. The one where your HHG may get lost, "untrackable," or just absolutely late. I pleaded with the lady about her "no work on weekends" policy and sure enough it worked. Later the next day, we were in the fine company of all of our HHG. This story is one of luck, chance, and possibly good telephone skills, but I assure you, I'm fearing the next move.
With the arrival of our goods, we spent the next few days unpacking. Once everything was about 90% in order, I decided to report to NMCB 11 for Stash Duty. I ironed my khakis, measured my collar devices to precision and was looking forward to work. I arrived at the Quarterdeck only to stand around for a few minutes until some chief walked by and noticed that I was not like everyone else. He directed me to the XO's office where I talked for a bit and was directed to another ensign to start checking me in. Now, I've pondered why I received no help that morning on the Quarterdeck and I can only assume that because I was the only one in khakis and everyone else was in their camouflage uniform, they just assumed I knew what I was doing. Things were going ok and then I got my first tasking. It was my job to read through the OPORDER and pull out all the administrative tasks. Seemed easy until I realized it was 90 some pages long and all in a military format. Wake up call! You're in the military now, start swimming. Sinking was not on my mind. It was a challenge, but one I met and succeeded. When I presented it back to the XO, he asked if he had given me the electronic version and I replied "no." He then asked if I had typed that all in and of course I did. It was a lot of typing.
Just ask quickly as two weeks went by from March 26 to arriving in Gulfport, three more weeks passed and Sarah and I were on our way to California. We thought of all the happy cows and sunny beach time we would get. As it turns out, the desert in Arizona and New Mexico is not the desert I had in mind.
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