Daniel Richard Rogers CTR2 1965-1969


My story is quite different from the other stories posted here. Before enlisting
in the Navy, I worked on a cattle ranch which covered approximately 100 sections
of land. I had to drop out of high school, before completing the first semester,
to help pay the family debts. We lived in a very rural part of Arizona. The town
was so small that there were only seven students in my 8th grade graduation class.

 

My parents were against me enlisting in the military because relatives who had 
served in WWII, WWI, and the Civil War, and survived, were never the same. But 
after receiving my draft notice and passing the physical, I called the Navy Recruiter 
and enlisted. I told my parents it was to keep from going into the Army but the truth 
was that I saw no future in working on a ranch for the meager wages I was earning.

 

In Boot Camp, we were told that Communications Technicians had no sea duty and could 
not be sent to a war zone but had to have at least a high school education and make a 
score of 120 or better on the GCT/ARI test. Although I wanted to be a CT, I thought I 
didn't have a chance. That high school requirement left me high and dry, so on my 
"dream sheet" I listed Stock Keeper, Radioman, and Cook.

 

At classification, the guy I talked to informed me that the jobs I had listed were out 
of the question but after looking at my test scores he said he might have something else 
for me. He told me to wait. He took my test scores and walked away from his desk to talk 
to someone. When he returned, he asked me if I would like to be a CT. I was delighted and 
eagerly signed my initials to volunteer for the job, a CT "R" brancher.

 

At Corry Field, I learned that my class wouldn't start for 2 weeks but I had to be able to 
type at least 35 WPM. Needless to say, I didn't know how to type. I worked in the scullery 
during the day and attended typing class for 2 hours each night. Before the end of the 2-week 
period, I took the typing test and passed. I learned how to type 35 WPM in less than 2 weeks.

 

Orientation was on a Friday, in the Big Room, before the class was to start on the following 
Monday. Two Chiefs took turns lecturing us on what we were in for. They had reviewed our records 
and at one point, one of the Chiefs said, "Some of you will make it through this school but most 
of you won't". He then looked at me and asked, "What's your name". I replied, "Rogers". He said, 
"You're one that won't".

 

During that first week of class, it seemed that I couldn't blink without being reprimanded. 
At least once during this week, I had to go outside and march in the heat for what seemed like 
a hour while a Marine called cadence. On Friday, at the end of the class period, the chiefs 
instructed us to come in and practice copying Morse code for at least 8 hours on Saturday and 
8 hours on Sunday. I felt that I was already on their "shit list" and they couldn't be any harder 
on me so I decided to spend my weekend at the beach.

 

The following Monday morning we had a Morse code test. The two instructors had a system. After 
the tests were collected, one Chief did the grading while the other Chief did the reprimanding. 
The Chief would grade a paper and hand it to the other Chief. The second Chief would walk to 
where the student was seated and chew him out, asking how many hours was he told to practice over 
the weekend and how many hours did he practice, just ripping him up one side and down the other.

 

I watched as this took place over and over again and when I saw the grading Chief hand a paper to 
the other Chief and heard him say, "Rogers", I knew my turn was coming. The Chief came to where I 
was sitting and I was ready for the tongue lashing to begin, but it didn't happen. Instead, he 
leaned over, and in a soft voice asked if he could tell the rest of the class how much education I 
had. I really didn't care. I was just glad, and a little shocked that I didn't get reprimanded as 
the others had.

 

This Chief then walked to the front of the room and addressing the entire class said, 
"All of you in this class have graduated from high school, and most of you have some college. 
All of you, but one. He has an 8th grade education and he aced this test. If he can do it, 
why can't you." I guess that got me off their shit list because from then on I was just one 
of the students.

 

However, the Chiefs were right. Each class started with 200 students. My graduating class 
was 60 students. Most didn't make it through that school.

 

At my first duty station, after graduation, a shipmate asked how much education I had. 
When I told him, he asked, "How did you get to be a CT". I explained that when I was in 
boot camp, you had to score 120 or above on the GCT/ARI test to be a CT. When he said he 
hadn't scored that high on the test, I asked him how he got to be a CT. I guess requirements 
change and there are exceptions.

 

By the way, after my hitch in the Navy, I attended college on the G. I. Bill and graduated with honors.

 

Dan Rogers CT2 1965-1969