The Pipeline: Doubt
New situations and old baggage raise lingering doubts. And the only way out is through.
...Continued from The Pipeline: Reflection.
From Ian's letter to a family friend, March 2014.
I hope this letter finds you and your family well, and at the very least far warmer than I am right now.
I arrived a couple weeks ago in the wind-blown tundra of Naval Station Newport, Rhode Island. The coldest I have ever felt was right here back in my first winter on active duty, and this winter is a close second. It's almost like they intentionally spaced the buildings on this base to funnel wind from Narragansett Bay so it cuts through your clothes with maximum efficiency. Sort of like the discomfort is the point.
This is now my fourth extended stay in Newport – previous visits included Department Head School in 2006, the Division Officer Course in 1999, and my introduction to the Navy at the Naval Science Institute in the summer of 1996.
Of course, you remember dropping off this skinny big-haired theater kid at the airport back then, and for me it was my first foray into the wider world. I remember seeing all these seasoned sailors who made up my class, me being the only person without any Navy experience. I had no clue what I was doing there. Everything I knew about ships I learned on Star Trek.
Well here I am sixteen years later with plenty of experience in this line of work, and dare I say a track record of being pretty damn good at it. The Surface Commanders Course is intended to get you ready to be an executive officer and captain of a ship, teaching you everything you need to know about engineering, combat systems, tactics, administration, ship handling, leadership, and so much more.
Yet, just like that big-haired teenager, I feel unprepared, sensing in my bones that disaster is imminent. Me? A steely-eyed warrior? They’ve got the wrong guy.
I remember going out one Saturday afternoon to have a catch with a guy in my platoon back in that first summer. I threw the baseball with confidence, a nice, easy arc right into his glove. But his return throw hissed through the air faster than anything I'd ever seen, so that I jumped out of the way and awkwardly extended my glove across my body to catch it. Over and over again this happened. He finally called me on it, laughing, “Why do you keep doing that? Just stand still and catch the ball!” It was such a little thing, but in that moment I felt completely unprepared for life. So, after a series of similar incidents that summer, I started my Navy career feeling like a complete failure.
Maybe it's something about this place. I feel the same way every time I come back, the ghost of my first experience still haunting me. I know this. When I write out the worries, I see how ridiculous they are. And yet.
Our instructors keep telling us we have to be the best tacticians, the best navigators, the best ship drivers out of anyone in the crew. I look around the room and they all seem like exactly that person. Everyone is so confident, like they know they deserve to be here.
After a few days I almost started feeling that way, too.
That is, until that moment in the simulator.
To be continued…
This is a work of fiction based on actual events.
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