It was the middle of a night in 1972 when our buses arrived at Navy boot camp in Orlando, Fla. We were led to our barracks and told to get into our bunks pronto, as we would be getting up in a couple of hours.

I was about to get into a lower bunk at the same time as another guy, a tall red head from Asheville, N.C. I explained that he should take the upper bunk, since he was taller than me and it would be easier for him to get in and out. Plus, he would be less likely to bump his head. He seemed to buy my logic and took the upper bunk. I was quite proud of myself in outfoxing him.

A short time later when everyone was trying to sleep, his crying woke me. He was severely homesick. I told him to be quiet, since we didn't have much time to sleep. He stopped crying, and I fell asleep.

I was again awakened, this time because water was dripping on me. I realized from the smell that it wasn't water. Yes, my bunk mate had wet the bed, so I woke him up and swapped bunks and bedding. Now I had the top bunk. Just as I was about to fall asleep, our company commander turned on the lights, banged a metal trash can with a baseball bat and yelled it was time for us to get up.

Welcome to the Navy.