Quebec 194 Recruit Journal Week 04

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Quebec 194 Recruit Journal

Formed: June 6, 2017

Graduates: July 28, 2017


30JUN17 DAY25

Occasionally rays of confidence shine through the ominous clouds of anxiety and impending doom that loom over Quebec-194. Personally, I don’t know if my confidence stems from getting my teeth cleaned today (fresh2death) or because I just started wearing spandex on the daily. IDK… But it the company’s case, I can tell you that our boost in confidence comes from making time objectives more consistently, marching a little tighter, sounding off a little louder, and working as a team. I wouldn’t be surprised if 12 more recruits from PAPA-194 jumped ship because they wanted to join our #squad. We’re not comfortable by any means, but we’re starting to get the hang of this whole boot camp thing. Feels good, man. Errr… I mean Facebook Moms. Belay my last! It feels good, Facebook Moms.

Y’all remember that time I was on red belt? Well one of Quebec-194’s staple recruits was accessorized in red that same fateful day… Seaman Recruit Swaney. Swaney is the guy everybody knows, I don’t think there’s anyone in our company of 126 who couldn’t pick him out. Maybe it’s because he’s just a popular guy, or maybe it’s because he’s cost the company sweat a handful of times… The world may never know. The Company Commanders always chant his name 03 times before they roast him. “SWANEY! SWANEY!! SWANEY!!!” Swaney gets a lot of heat, the company gets a lot of sweat, but you know what? Swaney is OG Quebec, and anybody who’s OG Quebec is worth the sweat. Swaney made the company proud today when he nailed his required knowledge at the galley. All of the females swooned and were like “AWW Swaney! I’m sOo0o proud of him!” So he’s off the red belt, and we’re going to make sure he stays there, dang it. Just because Swaney got off the hook doesn’t mean any of the rest of us were safe. Chief Grote went full wizard and turned the galley into a retro PACMAN screen. BOOT CAMP ARCADE! I was disoriented walking onto the black screen with my lunch-tray. I had to move quickly down the aisle to my table because behind me one of my shipmates was being chased by a gaggle of ghosts. “WOP-A, WOP-A, WOP-A!” The PAC-recruit ran circles around the galley. Chief Grote controlled him with his Company Commander joystick. (Company Commanders don’t actually have joysticks to control us, Facebook Moms, but we follow orders regardless.) Move quickly in the galley or be trapped in an arcade game! #DoingTheMostGuard

Facebook Moms with male recruits, your sons received haircuts today! *High pitch lying voice* they look awesome!

<3 The Worst Seaman Recruit,

Skidmore, M.A.

P.S. We took our midterms today! Quebec-194 made that test our BI-STFRIEND!


01JULY17 DAY26
Today as I polished my boots in the Japanese Chief Grotea Garden of Munro Hall, I used the pond like reflection of the leather to look back on Week 04. Oh, before I move on… The Japanese Chief Grotea Garden is when the company gathers on the quarter deck to polish our boondockers and Chief Grote plays yoga music over some speakers. It was a nice break after a momentous boot camp week.

The company killed the midterm and pretty much crushed the PF test. We gained like 20 shipmates; WELCOME TO THE FAM, SHIPMATES! We lost a handful of shipmates too– gone but not forgotten. (Don’t worry Facebook Moms, they didn’t die. But when in Romeo…) The other biggie this week was getting set on a blind date with our assignment for after boot camp! Imagine the detailer as Barbara Streisand in ‘Aunt Dolly’, setting every recruit up with their perfect duty-station (even if we don’t see it initially). Yup, Quebec-194 is going to be alright.

This week flew by, but from what I can tell, the upcoming week is going to move even more quickly. “WAKE UP RIGHT NOW! GET UP QUEBEC. 15 SECONDS TO BE ON THE QUARTER DECK! GET UP RIGHT NOW!” sounds over a megaphone with intermittent sirens sprinkled in. Practice for Week 05- SAR week! (Search and Rescue, Facebook Moms!) We’ll have extra tight time objectives as we practice for saving the Coast Guard’s “customers”. 15 minutes to take roll, get dressed, and get to breakfast! Hello, Morning Breath… If we make our time objectives every day next week, coffee AND chocolate milk have been promised to us for Saturday week 05. Quebec-194 has never been so motivated. According to the AMTC, the galley serves the best cup of Joe this side of the Mississippi. The water is pure spring straight from the freakin’ mountain and the beans have been handpicked by Capuchin monkeys in Columbia.

I seem to be getting ahead of myself… My shipmates and I have encountered Week 02 (Tango-194) recruits a couple of times around the regiment. I can see the despair in their faces- I recognize the blues from Week 02. The first time I went to choir with my shipmates, and people were smiling and radiating warmth, we all cried. Not a happy cry, nor a pitiful cry; for me it was more about being embarrassed for taking that warmth for granted my whole life. At choir this week, Quebec was one of the companies that was smiling and singing and clapping. The Week 02 Company across the chapel had long faces, looked confused, and cried. Just like we had. Only 02 weeks later, but we’re stronger and more appreciative. I think it’s pretty cool. Also, Shipmate Pendergast saw his wife from across the chapel! She just shipped in with Tango. #heartstrings

We saw them in the galley at evening chow too… What a throwback. Petty Officer Botts stopped every single Tango-194 recruit so they would request permission to pass by in the way we’ve learned to do so… The only one who got it right was allowed to pass, but in passing screamed at the top of his lungs, “AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!”… That used to be Quebec. I ate some bomb onion rings and tried not to look at the debacle… Now that’s what I call Supper Paratus.

<3 The Worst Seaman Recruit,

Skidmore, M.A.


02JULY17 DAY 27





1829- MAKING THAT GROSS FACE. –Petty Officer Karnya

So I really don’t know what to say about those trackers when I look at them cumulatively. But each one has a story, so I’ll try to break it down. After making it to the galley in ‘SAR’ time, I was waiting in line (AKA Purgatory) to get some breakfast. Petty Officer Placencia makes a round about the company, so I stand extra straight in case he recognizes me from the other night when I didn’t pop up like toast. He walks by and I draw a breath of relief… *BATMAN SNEAK ATTACK!* He comes back from the rear, “WAIT… YOU, FEMALES! TRACKER FOR LOOKING LIKE A SQUIRREL CRAWLED ON YOUR SKULLS AND DIED!” Haussler and I know better than to say anything other than, “AYE AYE, PETTY OFFICER PLACENCIA!” So we screamed our faces off. One of the veins in my forehead STILL hasn’t gone down from the strain… #nailedit #redemption

After morning chow, Petty Officer Taylor showed the company a few thangs about ironing our blouses and blousing our pants. We have a uniform inspection tomorrow; if there’s ever been a times for looking “fresh to death”, that’s it. The whole company is anxious about tomorrow, our Battalion Commander performs the inspection and his power levels are off the charts.

Ouch… One of my wisdom teeth started pushing full force today. If I make it to Week 06, my wisdoms will be removed fo’ free at dental. Until then, I’m just trying to absorb all of the knowledge and lessons this little tooth brings. The first piece of sage advice from the tooth: Don’t smoke and joke at boot camp. Ever. I guess yesterday a few of my crazy shipmates wanted to see how long they could hold mattresses over their heads? They were incentive trained 4ever today. It was A LOT of sweat to repay that debt. The female squad bay is tightening up after seeing our shipmates hold mattresses, canteens, pieces, and everything but the kitchen sink. So much pain from one tooth surfacing. Thanks a lot, tooth.

I nearly lost my iron curtain of a military bearing at the galley for evening chow! (“Iron curtain” may be a slight exaggeration, but I’m really working on getting there.) Chief Grote and Petty Officer Karnya’s campaign covers morphed into top hats… “STEP RIGHT UP! COME ONE, COME ALL! THE BOOTCAMP BIG TOP CIRCUS!” Lines of recruits worked their way around the imaginary circus ring to see the main attraction: Shipmate Mcintyre the Great! He sang circus tunes and twirled around as his Ring Masters instructed. The company observed in awe. (Facebook Moms, if you’re wondering what Shipmate Mcintyre did… I have no idea.)

Ahhh, it’s time for me to get some sleep. I’ll tell y’all about our cadence run soon!

<3 The Worst Seaman Recruit,

Skidmore, M.A


03JUL17 DAY28

This morning the company trekked to Bowser’s Castle. Quebec-194 faced one of the toughest boss levels to beat in Super Mario Recruits. Some would say there’s no way to beat it without cheat codes, but that’s not a risk we would take.( #honor #respect #devotiontoduty) We stood on line in our inspection ready operational dress uniforms; our blousing too tight to move and our boots too shiny to walk on anyway. Senior Chief Pace scanned the whole company, occasionally laser-beaming recruits with an especially direct stare. The inspections followed. He stepped to each of us, so close that he could hear our hearts beating and gauge fear levels. Then he would take a big whiff… He’s trained his nose to smell a loose thread on a uniform within 07 feet. Bowser threw…Belay my last! Senior Chief Pace threw fire balls of required knowledge at some of us. As he came closer to inspecting me, my bottom lip began to quiver a little bit. I was certain that I looked fresh, my required knowledge was on lock (TY red belt), and I had been practicing for this level… But something still felt off. What could it be? Why am I so nervous all of a sudden? “Mark this one for cover being stowed improperly.” I felt Chief Grote’s disappointment burning me and recalled the tracker he had given me just one day before. “TRACKER! FOR STOWING YOUR COVER ON YOUR TUMMY!” The words replayed over and over in slow motion. “STOWINGGG YOUUUR COOVERRR ON YOUUUR TUMMMMYYYY!” Thankfully, I snapped out of the trance just in time to dodge the Battalion Commander’s fiery curve ball of required knowledge. I screamed my face off even though he was directly in front of me. (I used mouthwash right before this boss level for that EXACT scenario. #semperparatus) On to the next level…

At lunch, one of my shipmates was so freakin’ close to getting of red belt! Seaman Recruit Bahn stood in front of the Company Commander table to spit his traffic. He got every question correct… Except one. “Bahn, how badly do you want to be off red belt? HOW BAD?!” I knew the answer Chief Grote was searching for. I desperately tried to relay the message telepathically to no avail. “CHIEF GROTE, SEAMAN RECRUIT BAHN, I WOULD GIVE YOU MY FIRST BORN SON TO BE OFF RED BELT!” Chief Grote gave him a day to think about what he wanted to say, so hopefully I can catch him before then With the last group of red belts getting rephrased (RIP) or taken off the belt for spittin’ it loud and proud, a significant fraction of the company took their places in red. Myself included.

I ran through the galley for evening chow! I was as happy as a clam that I passed my inspection, and even more happy because I had a heaping portion of mac’n’cheese to scarf down. “Hey Skidmore.” Petty Officer Taylor said calmly as I sped by the Company Commander table. “SKIDMORE AYE, PETTY OFFICER TAYLOR!” I responded. “Skidmore, I’ve got something for you.” He tossed a red belt to my feet. My heart sank as I picked it up and put it around my waist. I found my seat and tried desperately to fight the sweat gathering near my eyes. But it was a battle I couldn’t win. Seaman Recruit Skidmore cried into her macaroni. Did I say cried? I meant sweat. Seaman Recruit Skidmore’s eyes sweat into her macaroni.

Petty Officer Taylor gave me a stern wakeup call after hearing that I had talked over my Lead Company Commander in the galley. “PETTY OFFICER TAYLOR, I WOULD GIVE YOU MY FIRST BORN SON TO BE OFF RED BELT!” So, it’s still true. “The time is always right to do what is right.” Wish me luck, Facebook Moms; the water is always turbulent at boot camp. OH! And Facebook Dads! My real mom wrote me and said that a lot of my Facebook Moms are actually Facebook Dads. Classic mix-up.

Goodnight, Fam.

<3 The Worst Seaman Recruit,

Skidmore, M.A.


Editor’s Note: This blog post was written by a recruit currently involved in Coast Guard basic training. The thoughts and opinions expressed in this Journal do not necessarily reflect those of Training Center Cape May, the U.S. Coast Guard or the federal government and are the sole opinion of the author. Recruit Journals are written by personnel in a high-stress environment with little time, so please excuse grammar and punctuation in the above article. The staff at Training Center Cape May do not edit the journals in any way, so as to ensure authenticity of the content and messages.


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