Chapter 19: Indoctrination Day: You’re Candidates, Not Cadets!

Megan felt for a fleeting second like a freshman at college. She had a moment where she felt butterflies whirling from within her stomach. Quickly though, the sensation passed.

She looked over at Kennedy as he unpacked his belongings, a single backpack. They had reread the admissions packets during the final evening in the hotel before their arrival today. It stated that during their stay, that they would be provided room and board, as well as all forms of clothing and uniforms. The forms also stated any belongings they brought would be stored throughout the duration, apart from medications, which would be turned over and dispensed for safety.

Megan reached into the backseat of the car and grabbed her single backpack along with her day bag and they joined the que of prospective men and women in the parking lot.

“Hey, what are you going to do with the rental car?” Said Megan. The thought had occurred to her earlier that day. “That’s going to be one nasty rental fee, thirteen weeks.” She added.

Kennedy smiled, “Nah. I have a cousin who lives in Boston who said he’d come up and return it for me. I’m going to leave the key up front with instructions so he can come in and go out. He’ll store our suitcases, too; so hopefully you have everything you need out of them already.”

Megan nodded that she had.

As Megan glanced at her wristwatch once again, she noted that the crowd of men and women looked to be about 40 or 50 people of roughly her and Kennedy’s age. She observed various heights, weights, builds and general dispositions.

The energy of the group was one of excitement and nervousness. She couldn’t blame them.

From one of the adjacent buildings, a khaki-uniformed man and woman, looking not much older than herself marched in time and looked to be beading towards the group. They bore looks of seriousness across their faces and Megan had the good sense not to smirk or laugh at the presentation.

Standing at attention, the male of the group addressed the group, while his female counterpart scanned the crowd. A hush fell almost immediately as the cadet spoke.

“Attention Candidates! My name is Candidate Officer Owens and to my left is Candidate Officer Esparza. Welcome to Officer Training Command here in Newport, Rhode Island. You have five minutes to gather your belongings and you will follow us to the Administration Building, which is behind me for Indoctrination Paperwork, followed by a physical examination.”

After he had conducted his speech, he and his fellow officer adopted an ‘at ease’ posture and waited. Megan suspected the man was counting in his head the five minutes.

As Megan and Kennedy were essentially ready, they joined the que that forming nearest the two officers and fell into a quiet silence.

The five minutes passed quicker than Megan had thought, for the female officer assumed the attention position as did her counterpart before barking, “Attention! The group of candidates will follow us back to the Administration Building. Hut!”

In unison, they turned heel and marched with purpose back the way they had come. A few sniggers could be heard from somewhere behind Megan’s back, but she ignored them. She was focused on the task at hand. This was real, this was happening. Right now.

She, Kennedy and the group headed towards the building as parents shouted farewells to their family members retreating backs. Soon, they were all inside.


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The main entrance of the Administration Building was impressive. It boasted high walls, adorned with impressive photographs of naval aircraft carriers, fighter jets in flight from various eras as well as current and past military headshots of enlisted men and women.

The group was led beyond the central area and down a hallway marked Theatre Room 1. The two Candidate Officers opened the double doors and motioned for the students to enter.

The room was large and adorned with chairs that were set into two sections, left and right. She and her fellow classmates took the opportunity to find their seating, Kennedy sat next to her. Nobody talked. Megan turned her head as the double doors clicked closed behind her. She observed the two officers approaching the head of the room, which had a slightly raised platform where a podium and several chairs were set up. They turned to face the crowd, looking over all of their heads, but did not sit down.

From a side door that Megan had not noticed before, she saw three new individuals enter. Two of them were dressed in the traditional navy attire of white shirt, white pants. The third wore camouflage and atop his head was the unmistakable Campaign Hat, with its wide felt brim and tall crown. Megan assumed this must be their Drill Instructor. Finally, a fourth man entered the room, and approached the stage. He was the oldest by far, perhaps a few years younger than her father. And despite the grey at his temples, he was fit, alert and bore all the markings of a man who likely ran the place.

He took from underneath his arm a leatherbound folder, placed it on the podium and began to speak.

“Attention Indoctrination Candidates. My name is Captain Vaughn Vincent, and I am your Commanding officer here at Officer Candidate School.

You are here because you aspire to become the best of the best this great country of ours has to offer. To serve is a privilege. Those who pass through these doors are exemplar of what it means to be dedicated, determined and disciplined. The 13 weeks that you will be here will mold you. You will learn and develop a sense of both belonging and purpose and become capable leaders of the Navy that our country can count on.”

He cleared his throat.

“What you are about to embark upon is not easy. Nothing in this world is. This program is designed to test you physically, mentally and spiritually. Not everyone in this room will be here upon graduation and that is a fact. There will be blood. There will be sweat. And my god, yes, there will be tears. But I can promise you this,” he banged his fist on the podium, “the men and women in this room that are left standing after these thirteen weeks will be among the most prepared and elite that our country has to offer. Thank you and good luck.”

He surveyed the room, closed his leatherbound folder and took his seat. His fellow officers and the two cadets also took their seats.

During the entire speech, Megan was transfixed. She had not realized that she was leaning far forward in her chair. She had absorbed every word. The more Captain Vincent talked, the more she felt ready to begin. Her skin was itching. She was excited.

A moment later, one of the white-uniformed officers approached the podium.

“My name is Oscar Lopez, and I am your Class Officer. I am a navy Lieutenant and have been on one tour and served aboard the USS Wisconsin. My purpose here is to oversee your progression through our program and to interact with my fellow officers and officer candidates who will be helping you throughout your training.”

He waived a hand to the other white-uniformed naval officer. “This is recruit division chief petty officer, or RDC Brian Wilcox. And to my left will be your drill instructor from the Marine Corp, Sergeant Douglas Banks.” Both men nodded. “And you have already met your Candidate Officers, Jonathan Owens and Rebecca Esparza.”

RDC Wilcox got up next. “Can we roll, please?” He called out.

Megan looked behind her, as did several other individuals as the lights dimmed and the screen behind the stage, which was previously blank, came to light. Music gently began to fade in as an introduction video began to play.

“Welcome Indoctrination Candidates,” the voiceover began, “You are about to enroll in a grueling thirteen-week course that is designed to challenge yourself, learn new skills and make a difference in the world. This program is designed to prepare you for Naval life. With over 100 different jobs to choose from, you can find the perfect fit for your skills and interests.

"Upon graduation, you will be joining a family that is committed to excellence, integrity and teamwork. We have a strong sense of purpose, and we work together to achieve our goals. You will make lifelong friendships and be a part of a community that takes care of its own." The video continued.

"Beyond your time here, you will receive world-class training and education. We will provide you with the tools you need to succeed, both on and off the job. You will have access to cutting-edge technology and you will learn the skills that will serve you well throughout your life.

As graduates you will have the opportunity to travel the world and experience new cultures. You will have the chance to make a positive impact on the world and defend the freedoms we hold dear. If you’re ready to take the next step and become part of our proud tradition, we welcome you aboard.
And remember, this is not just a job, it is a way of life. It’s time to become a part of something bigger than yourself.”

The video went blank.

A second video began to play upon RDC Wilcox’s request.

This video was a pure informational video explaining. Megan leaned forward once again, deep in absorption.

It broke down the three phases of training: Indoctrination, Academics and Applied Leadership.

Phase 1, Indoctrination, would last from weeks one through four and consist of physical training, weapons drills and learning to live life in a bootcamp setting. They would learn the basics of timeliness, teamwork, cleanliness and entry level training. They would be referred to as Indoctrination Candidates and would receive mentoring and monitoring by Candidate Officers who were in Phase 3 of their own training. Megan looked up at Owens and Esparza and mentally noted they were in Phase 3 of training.

Phase 2, Academics, would take place between weeks 5 and 8. Candidates who make it to this phase of training would be upgraded from Indoctrination Candidates to Officer Candidates. They would evolve out of camouflage fatigues to khaki ones and more academic learning would take place. It would emphasize naval history, engineering, weapons, damage control, naval orientation and warfare, leadership, navigation and military law. Their physical training would evolve to practical training that one would run into while aboard aircraft carriers.

The third and final phase, Applied Leadership would run from weeks 9 through 13. Those who made it to this phase would evolve from Officer Candidates to Candidate Officers. At this phase, training specifies to real-world events like underwater wet training, firefighter training, simulated torpedo training, flooding and the like. Physical training would be persistent throughout as well as academic training.
Upon graduation, there is the Final Farewell Ceremony and Waterfront Salute.

The video ended and RDC Wilcox sat down. A moment later, Sergeant Douglas Banks took the podium.

He smiled. “Cute video, isn’t it?”

Megan and her fellow attendees could feel the coldness in his voice, despite the smile that did not match his eyes.

He began to pace behind the podium.

“Now, you don’t know me, but I will certainly be getting to know all of you. Pretty soon, I will know you better than your own family members. My job is to prepare you to serve your country. You all know the bigger picture. If you don’t have the passion and the reasoning as to why you are here, you are. Not. Going. To. Make. it.” He chewed the final few words off like bites of celery.

“I will not give up on you, even when you give up on yourself. And you’re going to.”

He approached the podium, hands gripping either side, he leaned forward, his brimmed hat leering at them all as he took in the room, almost smelling the fear that was building, he was drinking in their uncertainty.

“I will teach you to learn about stress. How the body and mind can cope. You think I’m going to let some maggots control a multi-million dollar war ship designed to defend our country from our greatest enemies if you’ve got a goddamn crooked belt, creased uniform or unshined shoes? No, sir!” He pounded the podium and several people jumped.

“If this is not for you, do yourself the courtesy of leaving now.” He added, flexing his fingers against the wooden frame of the podium. Nobody got up.

“Good,” he said. He turned to his fellow officers. “Then your first task is to begin filling out that paperwork. Welcome to the rest of your lives, ladies and gentlemen. Dismissed.”


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