I don't know if i should laugh or cry---thank you all for the support---by the way I have a new acronym for the list-a good friend calls us the -----Parents of Miserable Plebes Club. So lets see--PMPC? Got to keep a sense of humor don't we?
Long-time lurker, first-time poster here. Never thought it'd be about Plebe Summer!
My Plebe Summer was in 1989. Despite the transit of the years, every summer I look at the I-day photos and it might as well be looking at myself and my classmates (except we had stripe-topped socks). The smell of sweat mixed with white works is indescribable and indelibly etched upon my brain. To this day, whenever I have to sit forward on a chair, the edge finds the "dent" in my backside permanently rode into it by the 3" edge from Plebe Summer and Plebe year. I lost 22 pounds (that I didn't really have to lose) because my detailer was fond of rating
me at the beginning of meals. I hated almost all of it. Damage control was cool. PEP (except for the first 10 minutes) was a lot of fun, as was the O-course and Zodiacs and Lasers. But meals, uniform and rack races, learning to march - these things sucked mightily. I
hated PS, and not a day has gone by in my 38 short years that I haven't been eternally, deeply grateful for that experience when I was barely 17. Some people go their whole lives not knowing how much more they can think, do, and become.
I think we vets of PS tend to romanticize Plebe Summer to some degree. You don't want to remember all the crappy times you stood dripping sweat in the hallway in your full parade dress, at attention and silent, alternated with the front leaning rest, loathing your sadistic detailer, wondering when this would end, wanting to quit and just hit somebody and get a drink...because recalling the events with their full-on crap-o-meter takes energy and effort.
In the moment, the same thing is happening with the plebes. What's going on for a lot of plebes is this. Irrational-experiential mind is taking in heavy doses of sweat, being hot, sunburn, eyes burning, throat sore from shouting, muscles aching, crazy-intense activity followed by seeming HOURS of stand absolutely still, hungry, tired, wrong, anxious, clumsy, wet, stinky...and the thinking, rational mind turns all that input overload into "THIS SUCKS! GET ME OUTTA HERE! I don't wanna be a Naval officer after all!"
BHM (and other "miserable plebe" parents) one of the best things you can do is remind your DSs (and DDs) of this. Plebe summer is not plebe year. Choosing during Plebe Summer is almost always a bad idea, because the decision is not only based on a purposely-unreal experience of Navy life, the decision is also made with the irrational brain in control dragging the thinking mind along for the ride. This is almost certain to leave regret.
Tell your son, don't let today's experiences - good OR bad - decide for him. Get through plebe summer. Resolve to succeed at that - whatever it is for him - no matter what the circumstances. THEN re-visit the decision process. Even for this non-theist, the chaplains were excellent listeners and offered wise counsel not designed to persuade me but to make me think. Urge him to talk openly with one.
Sending a good thought.
DI's and TI's must be rolling over in their graves.
