United States Coast Guard Recruit Training Center, Cape May, New Jersey, 1955. Dog 26, forming week. About 70-80 Skinheads shepherded into a temporary barrack until the next graduating class vacated or a "permanent" abode was built. We piled in and it was chaos: our newly issued Ditty bags and packed Seabags with nowhere to put them but on the assigned cots. A hulk, with more stripes than I could count came down the aisle thundering, "get these bunks squared away, double-time!"

Well, I definitely knew what square meant, being a carpenter's helper before signing-up, so I got that bunk at a perfect 90 degree angle with the wall very fast. I was pretty proud of myself and then the hulk came back by, stopped at my bunk, looked at me and screamed, "you hard of hearing landlubber? I said get that, you know what, bunk squared away!" Now, tears started to fill my eyes. I said, but sir, I don't know how to get it any squarer than it is." His reply was, "get this gear stowed under you bunk!"

That's when I realized the 'square' must have another definition and i've been squared away ever since!