"MCPON: Chief induction is not a tradition"
From: Navy Times
Mike Stevens knows what it's like to be accused of breaking traditions.
As the 13th master chief petty officer of the Navy, he has faced outrage and dismay over his decision two years ago to "respectfully sundown" the practice of chief's induction — and all the alcohol and misbehavior that often came with it — in favor of tough, professional training that marks a sailor's entrance into the fleet's most coveted ranks.
"Tradition is a word that's thrown around a lot, but not many really take the time to fully understand what it means and put it in the proper context," Stevens told Navy Times. "It all goes to how you choose to understand and define what tradition really is."
But Stevens has spent time doing just that. Two years ago, he asked Master Chief Information Systems Technician Jim Leuci, a drilling reservist with the Naval History and Heritage Command, to scour the history books and find the origins of chief's induction.
His report, "A Tradition of Change — CPO Initiations to CPO-365," is the first official research of the history of CPO rites, and charts changes from the days of tossing selectees off the pier to the more elaborate and frat-house like rituals of recent decades.
"One of the things I learned from the research … is that many of our traditions are those things we have experienced during our time of service," Stevens said. "It's strongly based on what we have experienced."
The Navy is full of formal traditions — rendering honors to the flag and to individuals by ringing a set number of bells, or a specific call on a bosun's whistle — and many of these have long been laid down in Navy edicts and instructions. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines tradition as "a way of thinking, behaving, or doing something that has been used by the people in a particular group, family, society, etc., for a long time."
"There's a definition of tradition, but how you interpret that is really all about your service and your time, "Stevens said. "You came in the Navy and we were doing X while you were in, and then we stopped doing it. We then view that as a break in tradition — regardless of how long that perceived tradition has been around."
Given the facts in the new report, to be released April 1 in honor of the observed CPO birthday, Stevens says chief's initiation doesn't quite fit the mold of a tradition, though he realizes some chiefs will disagree.
"I know CPOs didn't come into existence until 1893, but in the now nearly 122 years since then, initiation has only been around for roughly half that time," Stevens said.
It's never been formally mandated by the Navy or consistent, Stevens added.
"When you look at the historical record and the facts, it's pretty obvious that much of the initiation process was essentially entertainment for the genuine chiefs of the day," Leuci said. "But when you step back and look at it over time, the process has grown much more difficult — and often forcibly mandated reform — it has grown and made the transition itself into a tough professional training program designed to prepare first classes to be effective chiefs."
Stevens says he's comfortable with the ending of the initiation and said the professional training is tough, meaningful and beneficial to the selectee, their commands and the service.
Evolving roles
One of the most popular targuments in favor of chief petty officer initiations is that chiefs are considered separate and distinct from the rest of the enlisted ranks and therefore need a rite of passage.
This wasn't always the case.
"The role of the chief petty officer has evolved [from] one that fits between the officers and the rest of the enlisted ranks," said Leuci. "Really, it's a role that has evolved over time."
April 1, 1893, is commemorated as the chief petty officer birthday and celebrated by khaki balls and other events, but at the time, the service didn't announce the arrival of "the chief" with much fanfare.
A Navy circular — an early equivalent to today's NavAdmin messages — was sent out to commands announcing the establishment of a "chief petty officer classification" effective April 1.
Leuci says there were 57 sailors advanced to that rank when that day arrived.
"However, the appointment of the first chief petty officers was not a major event of the day," Leuci wrote in the soon to be released report. "The first chief petty officers of 1893 were not immediately elevated to a higher enlisted status as a result of their appointments."
Chief's messes weren't immediately established, nor did chiefs get new uniforms either — they didn't even get paid differently right away, Leuci found.
"After April 1, 1893, chief, first, and second class petty officers shared the same mess," he wrote. "For nearly ten years, chief petty officers continued to mess and berth with first and second class petty officers."
That all changed in 1902, however, when Navy regulations formally established a separate mess for chief petty officers. All other enlisted men were consolidated into one general mess. It was the first time all enlisted didn't mess and berth together as they had since the Navy's founding.
Going overboard
For those who hold up chief initiations as long standing traditions, Leuci says they need to look at the historical record.
For six decades after the establishment of the CPO rank , there still was no such thing as chief initiations.
"There is really no record of initiation before World War II," Leuci said. "When you talk to those who made chief during this time, you can see the beginnings start to evolve, though it was more of a jovial and social event — there was no formal training — nothing like it has evolved to today."
During his research, Leuci said he talked to WWII and Korean War chiefs. They either didn't recall an initiation or said it was relatively simple — they went swimming.
Consider the story of Chief Yeoman (SS) Albert Dempster. He joined the Navy in 1940, signing on for an initial six-year hitch. He served on submarines before and during the war, making four war patrols on the submarine Crevalle in the Pacific, operating out of Fremantle, Australia. It was during one of these patrols that he got word that he and one of his shipmates had advanced to chief.
"There was no CPO initiation while they were underway in the South China Sea," Leuci wrote. "When Crevalle returned to Fremantle, Australia, the two new chiefs were initiated. Their initiation consisted of being thrown over the side of the boat, followed by drinking at a local bar. Dempster remained in the Navy after the war and retired as a chief yeoman in 1960."
"Though they were called initiations at the time, they weren't secret events, though they generally happened behind closed doors in the chief's mess," Leuci said.
The fact that chiefs existed for so long before the emergence of induction rites after WWII cast doubt on the oft-heard arguments that chief initiations are a sacred right or intrinsic to the role of CPO, said Stevens.
"By definition, traditions are long standing things, over time," he said. "So based on the historical record, one could argue that establishing the process of initiation in the first place was a departure from the long standing tradition of the day."
Traditions of convenience
Today, when new chief selectees go through the Phase II of CPO-365, which begins after the Navy announces who's been selected for chief each summer, they are given charge books to carry during their final stages. When they are pinned, the book is put inside an ornate wooden box or "vessel" as a keepsake of their transition.
"There are lot of myths about these and where they came from," Leuci said. "The going story is charge books were carried by petty officers in World War I and chiefs would often write advice in them, and though this is a nice story, there's really not a lot of evidence to back it up."
What the evidence shows, he said, is that they started appearing in the 1960s.
Then as today, the book was a green Navy log book that often was fixed to a chain or rope and worn around the selectee's neck.
"It was simply a place to document the transgressions of the chief select so they could be read by the judge at their initiation," he said.
Far from the hallowed objects of today, Leuci writes that these logbooks often were fouled by initiation rites run amok.
Former MCPON Duane Bushey said he threw his charge book away after he finished his initiation in 1974.
"Bushey had a charge book that was stolen a few days after he got it," Leuci wrote. "It wasn't returned until a week before initiation.
"The book had been spit on, ejaculated on, defecated on, and was full of profanity ridden comments. After initiation he threw the book away."
Other traditions and keepsakes have been added over the years, many taken from crossing the line ceremonies known for forcing the uninitiated wogs to eat or crawl through food.
"There are other official Navy photographs dating from the mid-1950s that show new chief petty officers in wash khaki or dress uniforms participating in various events such as eating their first meal in the CPO mess from a wooden trough," Leuci said.
Selects would build the troughs and on their initiation day would eat from it either with a large spoon — or with no utensils at all and their hands tied behind their back. These were traditions of convenience, borrowed from other rites, and not intrinsic to the role or the training to be a chief. They were simply disgusting and often degrading.
"But it doesn't appear that they ate anything different than the other chief's in the mess in those troughs," Leuci said, "unlike many initiations in later years where many inedible things were required to be eaten. At my own initiation I was required to eat raw eggs through a condom."
Borrowed traditions
The old saying that there's nothing new under the sun could apply to initiation day, when the selectee faces a judge who lists a litany of transgressions and shortcomings.
Defenders of these events say that what is endured during initiation hammers home the idea that chiefs must work together as a group — as a mess — to accomplish things. They can't do it alone, and they need to listen to the experience and wisdom of those who came before if they hope to be successful.
Others disagree and believe that shenanigans are degrading and lack training value.
The facts show that much of what became chief initiations in the 1960s and lasted for decades was borrowed from other naval ceremonies — especially those from the rite of crossing the equator and becoming a "shellback."
"Some of the rituals seen in crossing the line ceremonies, such as eating distasteful concoctions of food products and drinking 'truth serum,' were adopted for CPO initiations," Leuci said. "Some of the props used in crossing the line ceremonies such as stocks and ice-filled coffins began to be seen in CPO initiations. Characters like the 'judge,' 'defense attorney,' and 'sheriff' became fixtures as CPO initiations essentially became mock trials or kangaroo courts."
Other induction rites borrowed from "tacking" on crows for junior sailors or "blood pinning," where shipmates puncture a sailor's skin with newly awarded military pins and qualification insignia.
These rituals all made it into chief initiations, Leuci said, adding that the "practices and events were in direct conflict with Navy regulations relating to hazing, bullying, and harassment — especially when viewed by today's standards," he said. "However, the attitudes of senior enlisted and officer leadership of the 1960s and 1970s were often tolerant of questionable practices as long as there were no serious injuries and no serious complaints."
In the 1990s as Navy leadership sought to rein in the initiation antics, some chiefs fought back and offered voluntary alternatives, away from the Navy's prying eyes and rules.
"There were reports that some CPO messes offered 'traditional' initiations to interested selectees that were not sanctioned by the Navy and were held off-base," Leuci said."It seems almost ludicrous."
Pranks and controversy
Nearly every MCPON has had to deal with some sort of initiation controversy during his time wearing the three-starred crow that is the symbol of the office.
That started with Master Chief Gunner's Mate Del Black, the first MCPON. Black had to respond to chiefs outraged that a 1967 instruction prohibited "haazardous or detrimental" rites, or that involved "unbecoming conduct." That was widely interpreted to mean that informal initiations would be replaced by formal ones, with none of the fun and games.
But in what became the first ever initiation guidance issued by the Navy, Black wrote in the January 1968 issue of All Hands Magazine that it just wasn't so.
"There is no objection to CPO initiations conducted in a humorous vein, but at the same time, they should not be hazardous," Black wrote. "Proper supervision and planning can ensure that the honor and pride that go with making chief are not overshadowed by fun and games. We should not force the initiates to eat or drink against their wishes, nor should we do anything that could lead to bodily injury."
Black went on to say that the chiefs conducting the ceremonies should "avoid any humiliation to the initiate."
Despite Black's prohibitions, Leuci wrote, initiations went on unabated.
"Many provisions of SECNAVINST 5060 were generally ignored," Leuci wrote in the report. "Alcohol abuse, the consumption of food concoctions, unsafe events and the humiliation of CPO selectees remained the norm."
Sometimes things got so bad that the chief of naval operations tried to shut down initiations.
"Every MCPON, starting with [William] Plackett through Scott, was confronted with concerns about, or actual orders to end, CPO initiations from the Chief of Naval Operations," Leuci wrote. "Discussions to eliminate CPO initiations were generally kept out of the media and were not common knowledge within the fleet."
Such was the case during the time Duane Bushy was MCPON in the early 1990s. Nearly every year there were reports of alcohol-fueled misconduct at initiations.
In 1988, then-CNO Adm. Carlisle Trost and members of Congress were drawn into the debate by "reports of lewd, crude, and disgusting behavior during initiations" which were reported directly to them, according to the report.
The straw that broke the CNO's back was a complaint of a lewd incident in Groton, Conn. Nine newly minted chiefs came down with strep throat after being forced to put a plastic facsimile of a penis in their mouths, one after another. The disease was then transmitted to family members, according to accounts told to Navy Times by sources close to the discussions.
Leuci mentions the incident, but not does not describe what spread the disease, citing only unsanitary conditions during the initiation were the cause.
This led to a crackdown. Alcohol use by selectees was banned from the events. Promises were made to hold command master chiefs accountable for degrading or hazardous conduct at inductions. Officials expanded the rules to ban selectees from performing any acts against their will.
"The reforms were not popular among all CPO messes," Leuci wrote. "However, even though some CPO messes were slow to accept or simply ignored the MCPON's guidance, the reforms had begun."
A few years later, Leuci said, in the wake of the Tailhook scandal, MCPON John Hagan saved initiations from the scrap heap by instituting reforms.
Nearly every MCPON since has issued some sort of reform, instituting formal leadership training and other more acceptable and arguably more beneficial ways of welcoming in new chiefs each year.
It was Stevens in 2013 who took the final step, and moved the process to one that mandated a professional transition, eliminating alcohol from any formal events and ending chief's initiation and the sophomoric antics that had so long gone with it.
Frocking, boards and chief's season
The current practice of having a "chief's season," where newly selected chief petty officers are promoted or frocked to their new paygrade on Sept. 16, has only been in practice since 1980.
And it's only been since 1974 that the Navy has held a selection board for advancement to chief.
Before that time, advancement to chief was a year-round affair, with advancements — and initiations — being held nearly every month as a new crop of chiefs earned their anchors.
As with petty officers today, there were twice-annual chief exams.
And these exams were graded and a final multiple score based on that test score and the sailor's annual evaluations ranked the candidates. Those on the list were promoted in their order of ranking.
These lists, according to Leuci's research, were mailed to commands.
"A posted advancement list was the way that most sailors found out they were selected for chief," Leuci wrote. "CPO promotion lists promulgated by naval message did not become common until the late 1960s."
Frocking — the practice of allowing someone to wear the rank and assume the rights and responsibilities of the next pay grade — wasn't authorized, yet.
Once the selection board was established in 1974, the twice a year lists went away and a single annual list was published.
Advancements and initiations continued monthly until 1980 when frocking was authorized for all enlisted paygrades.
So, when the selection boards met that year and the results were released in July, the Navy held its first "chief's season," where all those selected were either advanced or frocked in September — a practice that continues today.
Covers and khakis
The last tradition in a pinning ceremony is also the oldest: the chief's cover.
Today, it's considered tradition that chiefs and officers wear combination covers and khakis, but that wasn't always the case.
From the start, chiefs wore a separate dress uniform, but the day to day working uniform for all enlisted was dungarees. The only way to recognize a chief was by his or her hat.
Khaki working uniforms were authorized only for aviation chiefs who were qualified pilots in 1929. It wasn't until 1941 that the Navy authorized khaki as a working uniform for chiefs and officers.
The chief's fouled anchor first appeared in 1897 as a cap device only — collar devices were still almost sixty60 years away. Since then, it's been reworked. Initially the anchor was just pinned to the cloth of the cap, but later it was put on a background, like the officer insignia.
Today, chiefs are taught an alternate meaning for the USN on their covers, that it stands for unity, service and navigation.
"It's a nice tradition that someone made up," Leuci said.
Even the practice of pinning was created as the process went along. Until 1959, 55 years ago, collar devices weren't worn. They were added after the creation of the E-8 and E-9 pay grades in 1958.
Initially, all three paygrades wore the same fouled anchor without the stars we know today. Separate collar devices for each paygrade came in 1961.
"When you step back and look at it all, it's not so much tradition as it is an evolution, a process of constant change," Leuci said. "But no matter what the evidence says, there will always be those who think that any change is bad."
http://www.navytimes.com/story/military/2015/03/02/mcpon-chief-induction-cpo-season-navy/24015575/