One evening, Betsy and I went to the Honch, an area filled with bars and nightlife outside of the Yokosuka base. We decided to go to New Tokyo, a bar that is frequented by many sailors. I ordered an Amaretto Sour, my favorite drink. Betsy was a month shy of turning 20 so I didn’t see what the big deal was. So, I bought her a Strawberry Daiquiri, which has barely any alcohol. Once we both had drinks, we had a great time just hanging out and talking about work.
Suddenly a couple of stools opened up at the bar. We rushed to grab them before anyone else did. As we were sitting at the bar, an older Filipino guy was standing close to us. He said that he needed a straw so I grabbed one from the bar for him. While Betsy and I were talking about work-related things, the guy was still lingering around. I didn’t think anything of it. As I began to space out while listening to a song, Betsy grabbed my arm. I asked, “What is it?” Betsy says, “That guy just grabbed my butt.” I was shocked and didn’t know what to do. "Just ignore him."
We carried on with our conversation, trying to not let this ass freak us out. A few moments later, I saw the guy grab her butt. Then I snapped. “Dude, what is your problem?” He looked visibly drunk. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” He was slurring his words too. His reply wasn’t good enough for me. I decided to add some heat. “Let me see your i.d. card.” Surprisingly, he pulled a wallet from the back of his pants pocket, and then handed his i.d. card to me. I looked for a rank and a name. Once I found what I was looking for, I was really shocked with what I saw. I passed the I.D. card to Betsy. "You're an E-6?" I asked the guy. Both Betsy and I were E-3s. The guy nodded. "Where do you work at?” The guy tells us that he works in Supply Department, which is one of the biggest departments on the ship. Even though there are 5000+ people on the ship, I didn’t think it would be that hard to track him down.
I gave him his I.D. card back, hoping that would be the hint to leave us alone. Betsy and I tried to forget about all of this and have a good time, but the guy was still lingering around. “Brooke, he grabbed my butt again.” I was super pissed, but felt helpless.
I found one of my guy friends, David, that was also in the bar. "Hey Brooke, what's up?" "Hey, can you come over here and tell this guy to leave us alone? He won't stop grabbing Betsy's butt. He's pretty drunk too." David walked with me over to where the guy and Betsy was sitting at the bar. "Hey man, you gotta go." David says to the guy. "I'm fine, I'm not doing anything wrong." I interjected. "Dude, you keep grabbing my friend's ass. That's not cool at all. You're drunk. You keep slurring your words. You're an E-6 and you should know better." "If you don't leave right now, I'm going to get Shore Patrol to come in here." David said. The guy didn't want Security to get involved so he left. I bought David a drink for helping us out.
I asked Betsy if she wanted to talk to Security about what happened. She was afraid to report the incident because an incident that she had reported before was swept under the rug. I also shared the same experience and result, but I strongly felt that the guy couldn’t get away with this. Besides, we had witnesses. I told her to at least think about reporting it.
Monday morning, I asked Betsy if she wanted to go to Security to report what had happened. She still wasn’t sure. I talked her into it, telling her that I would go with her. I also told my superiors what had happened. The only thing that I wasn’t sure of was the guy’s name or which division he worked at on the ship. I described what I knew of him to one of my supervisors. He had an idea of whom I was talking about, but wanted to be sure. My supervisor and I went for a walk, going through every Supply Department workspace until I saw a face that looked familiar. I said to my supervisor “That’s him”. He was in his utility uniform, with his rank displaying on the left arm and his last name sewn on his chest. Delacruz. I got a name. That was all I needed.
Betsy and I went to Security to give them our statements. This was a very lengthy process, as they wanted to know of every detail of that night—Where we went, who we were with, what we did, if we had any alcohol. I didn’t think it would matter so I told him that Betsy didn’t have any alcohol. Why? Because not only would she get in trouble for underage drinking, I would also get in trouble for giving it to her. I didn’t think there was a way for them to find out. Besides, we were reporting an incident. The Security people got the information they needed, then let us go.
The next day, my Chief got a phone call from Security. They wanted to see me again. Just me. I thought, dammit, I’m in trouble. When I reached the office, a superior wanted me to go into a smaller office. He asks me again if my friend had anything to drink. With a little hesitation, I told the truth—she only had one drink. He tells me that they visited the bar, and the bartender told them that my friend had a a drink that night. He says that I could have gotten into trouble for lying in a statement, but since I told the truth, he let it go. The Security guy also tells me that the Filipino guy denied what had happened. I explained to him that the guy was drunk, he was stumbling all over the place. The Security guy tells me that the bartender told him that the guy was perfectly sober. The bartender is Filipino, it makes sense. I told the Security guy that we were telling the truth about what had happened that night, and that we had witnesses. The Security guy dismisses me, telling me that the investigation was still underway.
“Get your blues ready”, my Chief tells me. “Because you contributed alcohol to a minor, we are forced to send you to Discipline Review Board, but it probably won’t go any further than that.” This is such bullshit. All I did was try to help a friend, and this is how I’m repaid? I didn’t understand. Betsy also had to go to the Discipline Review Board as she was being charged for drinking underage. I was scared that I would have to go to Mast, maybe get put on restriction. Since my friend and I were going through so much crap, I really hoped that guy would get his.
Betsy and I waited outside of the board room, at parade-rest. We were waiting for our names to be called to enter. The Discipline Review Board consisted of every Chief in our Department. My two Chiefs would be in there. “SN Carman.” My heart was pounding as I marched into room, making my corners as sharp as possible. “Please, sit down.” Each Chief asked me whatever question they wanted to ask—Did you know that your friend was underage? A couple of Chiefs in the room were really hard on me, but my Chief stood up for me. “SN Carman and SN Moore were out having fun, doing what every 19 and 20 year old person does. It is not their fault that some guy decided to sexually assault SN Moore. SN Carman did the right thing by reporting the incident to Security.” After a few more questions, I was excused. I was so glad that my Chief stood up for me. I knew that he really cared.
The next day, I had to attend Delacruz’s Discipline Review Board as a witness. I had to face a Master Chief and two Senior Chiefs. They asked me a few questions regarding that night, and I told them the truth. As I answered every question, the Chiefs looked like they were in disbelief. Then, I was excused. “Get your blues ready,” my Chief tells me. “You have to go to XOI in 30 minutes.” Oh my God. I can’t believe that this is moving forward. “We tried to keep this at Department level, but the Executive Officer demanded to see you.” With that, I went to the TV Studio to change into my blues. I walked down the three levels of steep metal steps to reach the Executive Officer’s office. I saw Betsy standing, waiting. We both couldn’t believe all of this was happening. I also saw Delacruz standing outside. A Master-At-Arms came from the Executive Officer’s office and ordered us to stand at attention. I hate standing at attention. I stared at the dried paint on the wall. Whoever painted this wall did a shitty job. There were a lot places where the paint dried as it was running. I could hear Eminem blasting from the Executive Officer’s office. This wasn’t good. According to Smoke Deck talk, the Executive Officer liked listening to Eminem before an XOI because it gets him pumped up. We were doomed.
After a lifetime of standing, we were called to enter—Delacruz, Betsy, and myself. We stood at attention as the Executive Officer spoke to us. The XO sounded like a broken record, asking us the same questions that were asked before. Surprisingly, he was not that hard on Betsy and I. He was more concerned with why we didn’t report the incident right after it happened. The XO was really hard on Delacruz, telling him that he should know better because he’s an E-6. With that, the XO tells us that he is moving this case to Captain’s Mast. As soon as the XO dismissed us, I went straight to the smoke deck. I chain-smoked three cigarettes. I had never been to Captain’s Mast before. Goodbye Good Conduct Ribbon. Goodbye Advancement exam. I was fucked.
A week later, Betsy and I stood outside of the Captain’s Office. People kept walking by us, seeing that we were standing at attention. “Carman, what are you going to Mast for?” I was asked many times. “Contributing alcohol to a minor.” Most people didn’t think this was that big of a deal. “Carman, Moore”. We walked inside the CO’s office, standing right in front of the CO, who was behind a podium. I could see my chain of command standing to the right, facing me. The CO asked me the same questions as before. “Yes, Sir.” “No, Sir.” “Yes, Sir.” “No, Sir.” The CO saw this as being an unfortunate incident and let it go. Betsy and I just got administrative letters put into our service record. Sadly, Delacruz just got a suspended bust to an E5 for 6 months. I thought he should have gone down a couple of ranks for what he did. But, what else could I do.
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