Hey, JOOD

I had my Naval boot camp training at the Great Lakes Recruit Training Center in Illinois. I reported for training in early July of 1984 and graduated in time for the Labor Day weekend. All of us recruits had to practice watch standing and security in accordance to the 11 General Orders of the Watch.

Most recruits practiced company compartment security duty, but some others, including myself, were selected for division (building) watch. We would generally stand watch at the division quarterdeck and handle security issues at the building's entrance. Then every hour, on the hour, one of us two sentries would patrol all six company compartments to ensure everything was secure. We wore armbands on our shirts that said "JOOD," standing for junior officer of the deck. We reported to the officer of the deck.

One afternoon, it was my turn to make the rounds and the first company compartment I patrolled was my own. My fellow cohorts spent four hours doing bunk drills repeatedly, over and over and over again. One rack was finished and two recruits were "standing fast." One of them, Richard, was staring at my armband and he sang, "Hey, Jude. Don't be afraid. Take a sad song and make it better."

I had to keep on going but I smiled back at him.

"Cute, man. Cute," I said.

About the time I got to the third floor, I entered the compartment for a very green recruit company ("raisins"). Someone yelled, "Attention on deck!"

I told them that I wasn't the officer of the deck, but the JOOD, a recruit just like them. I showed them my armband.

"See this armband here?" one raisin beamed. "This ain't the officer of the deck. This is the JOOD! Hey, Jude!"

Then the whole company erupted into that Beatles classic. When I reported back to the quarterdeck to report to the officer of the deck that "all is secure," he raised his face up to the ceiling because the singing was still going on and we could hear the "Da da-da da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da, hey, JOOD" chorus two stories up. The tune soon died down.

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