The U.S. military, and the U.S. Navy in particular, has long offered enlistees the chance to go see the world. I remember recruiting forms with the option to check a box to indicate an interest in travel and adventure.
My friend Tim Perkins graduated high school in tiny Langdon, North Dakota. In 1993, at age 19, he had completed Navy boot camp at Great Lakes, Illinois, and was stationed aboard the carrier USS Nimitz, based at Bremerton, Washington.
Back in the days of paper military records, sailors arrived at new duty stations with their paperwork in zippered plastic bags adorned with the Navy symbol. A sailor would learn the layout of the ship by carrying this bag to check in at offices at different places around the vessel.
But the custom had an unfortunate side effect. The packet, known as the “beat-me-up bag,” let all sailors know its bearer was a new guy. If a newbie wandered into the wrong area of the ship, the men serving there might lock him in a closet, tie him up, or chase him, threatening a beating. Such hazing is illegal now, but back then, every day of checking in was a nightmare. On his first weekend off, Perkins decided to go ashore. “In those days,” Perkins said, “the Navy was your mom, and she made sure you dressed right.” Sailors going ashore had to wear neat pants with belts, collared shirts, and sneakers or shoes with socks.
“I did all the wrong new guy stuff,” Perkins said. While experienced sailors carried ashore a bag with a change of regular clothes, Perkins wore his boot camp-issued New Balance tennis shoes and his Navy-issued trench coat. His appearance screamed “naive newbie!”
Unaware there were three gates off the base, he chose the gate that opened in a bad part of town. He reemerged in the civilian world among dilapidated houses, walking past two pawn shops and an adult store. He stopped on the corner outside a 24-hour diner, unsure of which direction to take.
While Perkins contemplated, a huge pickup with 36-inch Super Swamper tires whipped the corner. The driver slammed the brakes and screeched to a halt 20 feet away. The passenger door opened and a guy screamed obscenities at the woman climbing out. She slammed the door and cursed back as the truck sped off.
The woman wore a sequined miniskirt dress with a furry jacket and heels, her hair poofed up ‘80s style. She tugged her skirt and swung her purse over her shoulder. Perkins, fresh from the fields of North Dakota, hadn’t seen a girl like this since prom. But prom in January?
“Hey, you!” the woman shouted.
Perkins looked around.
“Hey, you!” she repeated. “Want a date?”
“I thought I’d made it to the Wheel of Fortune championship,” Perkins told me, “and the whole puzzle was solved except for one vowel. The girl looked almost as amazing as Vanna White! I was ready to solve the puzzle and win the trip to Aruba. First weekend in town, and I’d hit the jackpot. She’d just broken up with her boyfriend. His loss was my gain.”
“Sure,” Perkins told her.
“Where we going?” she said.
Perkins frowned. “I don’t know. Want to get something to eat? Or see a movie?” All he could remember that was showing was Philadelphia or Tombstone. Not great date movies.
Her shoulders slumped, and her mouth dropped open. “What’s the matter with you?”
Perkins stammered. He’d messed up. She was probably used to being taken to classier places.
“You want to f—?” she shouted.
It took a moment for the young sailor to realize dates with this girl weren’t free. He ran away. Alone and defeated, he took a taxi back to base. Tim Perkins’s first adventure far from home was disappointing, but eventually, his years of military service would transform him into a world-wise traveler.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.
Trent Reedy served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
