Venture Part-5
Proudly Wearing the Uniform: A Navy Cadet's Journey of Acceptance
Upon my return home for Christmas, I discovered that my relationship with my family had changed dramatically. I think my parents’ experiences during the war, especially my mother’s loss of her only brother, had placed the value of military service well above age as a measure of adulthood. Wearing my navy blue uniform, I was therefore now accepted as an adult, and welcomed into their adult circle where I was expected to smoke and drink the way they did. My mother insisted that I wear my uniform to Christmas Eve church service, and as I came back to my seat after communion I was a little taken aback by the tears in her eyes as she saw the respectful glances that were directed at me as I moved through the crowded pews.
My parents had always hosted an eggnog party midway between Christmas and New Years, and this year Cliff Brown and I were paraded around in our uniforms by our proud parents, with their many friends clustered around encouraging and laughing as they re-lived their own military adventures in our descriptions of initial training challenges and small triumphs. My older sister had also kindly invited a number of my high school friends to a “welcome home” party at our house a couple of days later. Here again I discovered that I was elevated to a special position that set me apart from the rest of the guys, and the girls who seemed to be awed by the uniform and some of my stories (perhaps a little exaggerated). It was a pretty heady experience, and I unabashedly basked in it.
All too soon we were headed back to the reality of Venture and our place at the bottom of the totem pole of life there. Fortunately, the senior class departed after a few days for their deployment at sea aboard the training frigates, and we found ourselves freed from their ominous presence and control over our lives. Military structure had to be maintained however, and Bob Baugniet was appointed as class Cadet Captain while the seniors were away. As luck would have it, I had achieved the top academic grades in our Christmas exams – a testament to the quality of the Quebec education system – and I was appointed Cadet Lieutenant for the term.
I had never before held such a position of leadership, and after the initial pride and pleasure, I realized that I had a lot to learn in a very short time. Fortunately, PO Breen became almost a personal mentor, offering wise counsel on a regular basis, and whispering encouragement and advice as I found myself in front of my platoon on the venerable parade square. I quickly discovered that military drill actually made sense in the movement of a group of men around the square, and that once the members of the platoon came to trust my orders, we were able to perform all the drill maneuvers as a cohesive team.
The time started to whiz by in a blur as our academic routine was blended with experiences/adventures away from the square. In February we embarked on HMCS Ste Therese for our first sea voyage to the United States Naval Air Station at Whidbey Island, Washington. Then, in early March we enjoyed the Chaplain’s Mystery Tour – an afternoon/evening filled with various activities such as go-kart driving, bowling, shooting, dinner at a fine restaurant featuring steak & kidney pudding, and ending up at a dance studio where we joined the girls from a local prestigious girls’ school in learning the “twist”. Quite a welcome diversion from the normal routine!
A week later we were transported over to Port Angeles, Washington and then onto the slopes of Hurricane Ridge where we truly left our marks in various spectacular attempts at downhill skiing. Then, in early April we embarked on the RCN’s 110 ft Ketch, HMCS Oriole, for a taste of tall ship sailing enroute to Seattle and the USN Station at Bremerton. It was quite a thrill to experience Oriole heeled over with gunwales awash as she drove through the foaming seas propelled by the stiff breeze, and then to walk on the wooden deck of the famous battleship USS Missouri, where the peace treaty with Japan had been signed.
In addition to these planned activities, some of us were lucky enough to be invited to the homes of those of our compatriots who lived in the Victoria area. I spent a number of wonderful relaxing Saturdays and Sundays with the families of Gord Davis, Russ Rhode, and Mel Spotswood, who offered a welcome retreat from our otherwise hectic and highly structured daily routines.
Unfortunately, our respite ended with the return of the senior cadets who arrived back on April 19th. Our class had developed into a very cohesive group in their absence, and their various attempts to re-establish their dominance over us caused great friction and a growing sense of injustice, which finally spilled over into our spectacular raid upon the senior class accommodation block. Teams of juniors grabbed the building fire hoses and soaked the beds and closets of most of the seniors. The melee continued until Captain Padmore, living in the married quarters (PMQs) across from the playing field, was woken by the noise and quickly put a stop to the skirmish.
A truce of sorts was established with the seniors relaxing their efforts to dominate, and the competition shifted to interdivisional rivalry with the prospect of the track meet and sailing regattas scheduled for early June. During the track meet, I won the 880-yard run and received the first of many pewter beer mugs that later came to decorate my mantle/bookshelf. In the regatta, I was part of the Stephen’s Division twelve-man war canoe which managed to maintain a coordinated enough stroke to propel our whaler to a narrow victory over our poor Grant Division rivals – at the end of the race, both crews celebrated by engaging in a fierce “paddle battle” which resulted in numerous participants finding themselves in the chilly water.
Then came final exams, followed by interviews for a number of us who had achieved the highest grades. During these discussions, we were offered the opportunity to transfer to the Regular Officer Training Program (ROTP). This program involved pursuing a four-year university degree, first at Royal Roads, and then at the Royal Military College in Kingston, Ontario. It was a difficult decision because it meant giving up the opportunity to commence flight training the following spring and then becoming a commissioned officer in 12 short months, in favor of four more years as a cadet but graduating with a degree. My dream had always been to earn a degree, so I, along with a number of others (Gord Davis, Mel Spotswood, Cliff Brown, Bob Baugniet, Jim McKinley, Tom Rutherford, Ken Johnson, and Preben Kaersvang), chose to transfer to ROTP.
July brought the Juniors Summer Ball where we could finally begin to celebrate the fact that the end was near. I invited a young lady who I had met at one of the Sunday morning gatherings in the gunroom when our class hosted girls from a number of the local private schools for coffee after Chapel. I took a cab to her address in the Base PMQ patch to pick her up, and when I rang the doorbell, her father gave me a quick smile and invited me into the foyer where I waited for my date to appear. I happened to glance up at the entrance closet shelf and froze when I spied a naval officer’s cap with “scrambled eggs” on the peak denoting a senior officer. To say that I was on my guard for the rest of the evening was an understatement, and as much as we seemed to have a good time, I was relieved to deliver the girl safely home with no “faux pas” to threaten my future.
My 18th birthday (July 13th) included a special celebration as it was the night of our Graduation Mess Dinner. In recognition of the date, a couple extra glasses of port ended up in front of me, which fortunately did not cause undue harm, although I certainly did accept the gesture with great pleasure. The following week we commenced training for our graduation parade which culminated with the senior cadets marching through the junior ranks, halting so that one senior was face-to-face with one junior. The senior cadets then reached out and pulled off the hated white lanyards from around our necks, thus acknowledging our elevation to senior cadet status. Needless to say, we took care before the parade to cut through the lanyard where it passed under our collar, holding it together with some adhesive tape so that when it was pulled it came away freely without causing our necks to suddenly follow the lanyard as it was removed.
July 20th (Graduation Day) dawned with brilliant sunshine and the parade went off without a hitch. Suddenly there we were, minus the lanyards, now able to cross the parade square without having to do so at the double. Great celebrations ensued, promises to keep in touch made, forgiveness granted to most seniors who in turn welcomed us (finally) into the community, and then we were on our way home for summer leave prior to reporting to our next appointment – whether it be back at Venture as senior cadets or on to Royal Roads where university and another term as junior cadets awaited.