It is well to say right here that Commander Brownson, although a strict disciplinarian, was ever fair and just in his treatment of the crew.

Our pedigrees were taken for the enlistment papers, and the questions asked us in regard to our ages, occupations, etc., proved that the Government requires the family history of its fighters.

The following day each man was subjected to a rigid physical examination.

The latter ceremony is so thorough that a man needs to be perfect to have the honor of wearing the blue shirt.

Personally, when I finally emerged from the examining room, I felt that my teeth were all wrong, my eyes crossed, my heart a wreck, and that I was not only a physical ruin, but a gibbering idiot as well.
That I really passed the examination successfully was no fault of the naval surgeon and his assistants.
After the medical department had finished with us, the enlistment papers were completed, and we became full-fledged "Jackies," as "Stump" termed it.