O.K. You Swabbies, Time to Get Up!

I had been asleep for what seemed like 30 minutes when I heard a sailor's voice booming as he walked from one end of our quarters to the other: "O.K. you swabbies, time to get up! Drop your c--k and grab a sock," and he kept repeating this all the way. I was slowly getting my eyes open and peering into the lights, which had been turned on. I started getting out of my bunk and I asked no one in particular, "Did he say what I thought he said?" "Yep, you heard right," a couple of humorless voices answered. I finally put on some steam; grabbed my shaving kit and brushed my teeth, shaved and left the head to get my dungarees on. I carefully checked my appearance and asked if I looked all right. "Yep" was the answer and I left to go to the parade grounds as ordered. Chief Bledsoe was there to tell us to get spaced out enough so we could swing our arms; run in place or do what he ordered. We went through a long period of exercises, accompanied by music. When this was complete he told us that he expected us to be in military condition quickly and that he expected us to be able to pass the swimming tests; run the obstacle course; parade, in unison, military style and handle a gun. Any real screw ups, by anyone, might and usually would result in a specified number of runs "around the grinder" (parade grounds). As we all expected, someone spoke out of turn when the chief was talking and he ordered us all "once around the grinder." This produced the desired effect from the chief's point of view because the rest of the squad told the offending sailor off. Discipline! That was the name of the game.