Ship Five
Tracie Nicole Williams
She asked me not to tell, and I told her I would not. “Remember when we used to stand watch in
boot camp across the street?” She asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Well, remember when we would stand by the Balls to Four?” She said softly.
“Yes.” I replied as I came in closer to hear her story.
“He would come into the birthing and take me next door and force himself on me. I didn’t want
to, I really didn’t want to, but he made me do it. He said I would never leave boot camp if I
didn’t!” Tears began to flow and I wept with her.
I knew there was something pretentious about him. He ran Ship Five, the boy’s birthing, and the
girls were integrated
with them later. He raped ten girls from my division that year and every division officer over us
knew, but kept quiet.
At Pass and Review, our graduation from boot camp, he was named Sailor of the Year. He led us
as we marched
proudly in front of hundreds of Officers, families, and friends.
“EYES RIGHT,” he commanded as we marched sharply and smartly turned our heads 45 degrees
to the right on the command, “RIGHT.”
“READY FRONT,” He ordered. On the command, “FRONT.”
We snapped our heads to the front.
The Commanding Officer then passed down the line to review every new outstanding sailor that
survived Battle stations.
We marched proud, yet ten of my
shipmates were wounded without ever having been in battle or serving in the fleet. He marched
with arrogance, which we took for pride. As he led us out of the auditorium, our lives would
take an ABOUT FACE. We crossed the street to the other side of Great Lakes.
My friend told the horrific tale of her several assaults. I never told anyone. Then our other
shipmate went UA (Unauthorized). She believed she was pregnant and she left Great Lakes
abruptly.
Her name was called but she was unaccounted for. That’s when the
others from my division came forth. It wasn’t just Ship Five. There were
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