Every now and then I recall a refrain from my past.  When I think back on my time in boot camp, I hear the echo of voices saying, “Skinner did it!”

Boot camp and living in a single room with 77 other women came with a unique set of challenges, not the least of which was figuring out how to not only get along but to work as a team. That said, there were times when we were each singled out, as well. Some more than others.

I admit the passage of time has dimmed to a blur the actual schedule of daily events. One day seemed much like another, filled with learning and drilling and scrubbing and polishing. (Lather, rinse, repeat.) But a few things stand out and, while not all the big moments make me smile, I can recall some of them quite clearly.

And some of them are still funny.

The first couple of weeks were spent learning the ropes (not just in the usual clichéd sense but also getting to know the drill instructors [Recruit Division Commanders or RDCs] whom we referred to as “red ropes” and “blue ropes,” as well as the literal ropes for climbing and tying), among other things.

We learned to tie knots, grew to understand Navy jargon (a language all its own), and attempted to march in formation. Being a dancer for many years and having spent time on the high school drill team, I was unprepared for the lack of coordination of many of my new “ship mates.” I had no idea it was that hard for some people to step in time to cadence!

Because we were so bad at it, we spent a lot of time practicing our marching skills, such as they were, out on a large black top area called the grinder. (Yes, grinder. March around outdoors on a dark surface for hours on end in Florida in June and July and the name makes a lot more sense.) The weather was muggy, averaging around 95 degrees with 73% humidity. (I found the weather details scrolling through the online almanac.) While I admit do not remembering the temperature specifically, I do recall how it felt. Especially when standing at attention wearing a diverse cloud of insect life like a living, buzzing helmet that we could not swat away.

The Recruit Division Commander (RDC) discovered early on that my theater background provided me with the ability to call out cadence in a voice that carried all the way from the back of the unit to the front, and she used me to this purpose. Unfortunately, that also meant that my name was one of the first she learned. And the one name that seemed to stick with her.

No matter where we went or what we were doing, no matter that I was marching completely in time, the RDC was constantly yelling, “Skinner, get back in line!” “Skinner, move your ass!” or “Skinner, get in step!” It boggled my mind at first, as I knew I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. I was often the one calling cadence, after all. But, after a while, I simply accepted the fact that she had decided to single me out for whatever reason.

Some of the other activities that took place those first couple of weeks were visits to medical—as a group to get shots—or dental, where we went singly by appointment, to have our teeth checked. One day my name was called and I ran up and stood at attention before the RDC, who sent me “double time” over to dental. After having my teeth prodded and x-rayed, I was sent back to my unit. When I arrived back at the berthing compartment, I was met with raucous laughter.

Turns out, while I was at dental, the Training Unit continued to march and drill out on the grinder, and all the while our RDC kept yelling, “Skinner, get back in line!” “Skinner, move your ass!” or “Skinner, get in step!”

When I arrived back at the barracks and stepped inside, someone quipped, “Skinner did it!” And the room erupted in laughter.

After that, it didn’t matter who did I what. If anything went wrong, if there was any kind of blame to place, no matter what it was, the automatic response from my  boot camp “crew mates” was, “Skinner did it!”

Someone misplaced something? “Skinner did it!”

No mail from home? “Skinner did it!”

Long wait for mess? “Skinner did it!”

It became a mantra and a commentary on the ridiculous nature of some of the things we were put through in boot camp.

And it was a way to lighten tension. A small bit of levity that could cause a general eruption of mirth in a place that dearly needed it. And “Skinner did it!”

I wasn’t being laughed at. I was being laughed with. And I totally leaned into it along with my 77 roomies.

What can I say? I’ll totally own that “Skinner did it!”

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