Some friends you keep forever. It doesn’t matter how long it's been since you’ve seen each other or even talked. You will always be friends. He is like that for me. I met him over 20 years ago. We were both in boot camp trying to get through eight weeks of bullshit. I would like to describe boot camp as hell as they do in the movies, but in reality, boot camp is pretty much all bullshit. It’s not hard, it’s just mentally tiring. Too many mind games.
We were from opposite ends of the country. We met briefly in boot camp and had no idea that 20 years later we would still be friends. That rarely happens in the military. Turns out we both signed up for the same job in the Navy. We had the same schools in our immediate future. He was two weeks ahead of me in boot camp, so chances are we would not be in the same classes. He got to stay in San Diego for his first school, I had to go to Great Lakes (Great Mistakes for those of us that have been there). He was enjoying the California weather and I got shipped to Chicago. The class was self paced and as it turned out, he took two more weeks to finish than I did – on purpose so he could stay in California.
So we ended up in A School together, in the same class, and that is where the friendship started. When you are in a school with a 40% drop rate and a 70% set back rate, you feel like you are fighting against the world. Those people fighting with you are instant friends. You don’t want to fail and get kicked out to the fleet so you can chip paint and swab decks for a living. We both somehow made it through 29 weeks of training - no set backs, no failures, an accomplishment that only 6 people could say of the 39 that started with us. There were many weekend parties, drinking in Wisconsin (drinking age was only 19), and pretty much a lot of fun. We were friends, but not close.
We both received orders to the same first duty station, in California. We both had to go to the same C School together – still in Great Mistakes. He reported to our duty station before I did, by one week. We worked together, drank together, played golf together, played cards together and met new friends. He was there when my wife left me for another man. He watched me spiral down into despair, try to drink myself to death, and helped me come back to the real world. He was my friend.
When you are in the Navy, you have to get used to losing friends. People come in and out of your lives every two years and that is just the way life is in the military. Well for him and I, fate seemed to have a different plan. When our time was up in California, we both got orders to the same small island in Alaska. He got there one week before me, again. We were roommates on the island for two and a half years. We drank together, we fished together, we played ball together (all types), we won card tournaments and we DJ at the club. He made me like Rush and Triumph, his favorite bands. He was there when some marines decided they didn’t like me one night. He was my best friend.
He was there when I met the love of my life. He lived through the ordeal that I so painstakingly described in my three-part post. He was there for me, ready to be my best man, when I almost got married to the love of my life. My best friend was always there.
We got out of the Navy together, one week apart. He went home to NY and I went to Cal. We have met a few times for special occasions over the years, mainly to play golf and drink like we were 21 again. We have not seen each other for a few years, but I will be visiting his neck of the woods next week. We will play golf, drink, tell funny stories of the good old days, and basically pretend that we see each other more than once every few years. It will be good to see my friend again.
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