I was at ET "A" schoool from the summer of 1966 to about the spring of 1967. The barracks were the standard post WWII era "H" shaped wooden kindling piles. My memorable nights were standing sentry duty around the fenced-in NBC warfare training area on the corner of the island facing Alcatraz. Cold, miserable nights, huddled around the steam pipe between rounds of the fence. I had everything on that I had from my seabag, and still cold. This is saying something, for a Minnesota boy. I could hear the cable car bells from across the bay, and wishing I were there. I did have a transistor radio in my peacoat pocket, with an earphone wire running up my sleeve, so I was not bored, anyway. I was always on the alert for the watch officer to come around, though, so I was always ready to ditch the earphone.
Many of our classes were on closed-circuit TV - I always transport back to those days whenever I hear an old Herb Alpert Tijuana Brass tune, the background music for those training sessions. Classroom instructors would inspire us to study by reminding us that there was a swift boat over in Vietnam, with our names on it. This particular inspiraiton followed me through Nuc Power School and prototype training, too. Funny, in a way... when I got to the fleet, I was a reactor operator and never worked or even saw any of the radios I worked on at school. The training still served me well, though.
So many stories, so little bandwidth.
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