THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, March 19, 1995 TAG: 9503190024
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: By KERRY DEROCHI, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 193 lines
The recruit lay on her stomach for what seemed like hours, fluttering her legs above the wet tile floor.
She stuck out her arms and crossed them in short, choppy strokes, while three men yelled and screamed within inches of her face.
You think a stupid little white girl from Maine has what it takes to lead this company?
You think a stupid little white girl from Maine can boss around men?
The 20-year-old paddled through the shower's thick mist until her arms and legs ached and the water stung her eyes. She had to keep moving. She had to prove she could make it.
She was swimming to graduation.
``You're in that situation, you don't even think straight,'' said Stacie M. Nevells, who was that recruit. ``All you can think about is just getting through it. One more second. One more minute. One more hour.
``Whatever it takes. Just get through it.''
The episode, which took place more than two years ago at the Navy's Orlando, Fla., boot camp, is at the heart of a controversy surrounding a claim that Nevells was criminally assaulted during her first week as a recruit.
Nevells, an operations specialist who lives in Norfolk, has told Navy investigators she was kicked in the head and beaten with a stick during a ritual known as ``cycling.''
Her allegations, which were made public last December, sparked a worldwide investigation into the alleged assault and a review of the training practices used at the Orlando boot camp, the Navy's first to integrate men and women recruits.
The inquiry ended Friday when the Navy announced that agents with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service had been unable to corroborate her story and were no longer pursuing criminal charges against the three men.
In an interview last week, Nevells angrily attacked the Navy for failing to follow through on the prosecution and for pressuring her to back off from her story.
Nevells, now 23, is awaiting a medical discharge from the Navy for a rare inner ear disorder that doctors have said may be linked to the incident. A third-class petty officer, she is scheduled to leave the Navy on Friday after 2 1/2 years of service.
She will receive a 30 percent disability payment, or about $260 a month, for her illness, a condition which causes sporadic and severe bouts of vertigo.
``I did not ask to go through this, I did not ask for this disease,'' Nevells said Tuesday in her apartment off Military Highway. ``They don't care what happened. It's easier for them to just close their eyes.''
But Navy officials, who declined to talk publicly about the investigation, have defended their efforts, saying agents were unable to find anyone who watched the assault or who heard Nevells complain of mistreatment.
They referred to one witness, Todd Carson, a member of Nevell's recruit class, who told investigators he was taken into the showers at the same time as Nevells.
Carson, a sheriff's deputy in Gibson County, Tenn., said he was within five or 10 feet of Nevells during the entire incident and did not see any signs of physical abuse.
``She claims she was hit, but she was never hit,'' Carson said in an interview. ``I was in there the whole time. She was never touched in any shape, form or fashion.''
At issue is what happened on the morning of Aug. 12, 1992 - day ``1-5'' of the eight-week recruit training program.
The day was known as a sort of initiation, when recruits go through a host of grueling physical exercises and sustain a barrage of verbal attacks, designed to test their mettle.
The recruits woke that morning to the taunts and yells of company commanders who came to the compartment and demanded the class redo their beds and fold their clothes.
At 8:30 a.m., three chiefs came to Nevells and made her put on dungarees, a long-sleeve shirt, a sweater, her watch cap and gloves, and her utility jacket.
They took her into the shower area of the bathroom and ordered her through a litany of exercises. They made her lie on her stomach and paddle and told her she had to swim to graduation. They said she had to prove herself before she could lead her company, 1054. She needed to be strong.
It was then, Nevells said, she started getting kicked.
``They kicked me in the sides,'' she said. ``They kicked me in the head. I got kicked in my shoulder.''
Nevells said one of the men took a bunk stick - a mop with the end cut off - and jabbed it into the floor around her hands and legs as she paddled, often missing and hitting her body. She was told to flip over and do sit-ups, as they taunted her about being in a command position.
She does not remember seeing Carson in the shower that morning. She said she thought she passed him in the hallway, on the way into the building.
Carson said the two went in at the same time. He said Nevells did not complain about the treatment.
``We didn't have a mark on us. No one there was hurt,'' said Carson. ``It was just as innocent as it could be. The company commanders never once touched anyone.
``They told us it was all for our own good. It was motivation. There's nothing illegal with motivation.''
At the end of the shower, Nevells and Carson returned to the compartments, where the other recruits were finishing their physical training.
Nevells said she was made to pass under every bunk on her back and ordered to go up to every member of her company to yell, ``This is my company. You can't take it away from me.''
When it was over, she said, the company commanders played ``God Bless the U.S.A.'' and spoke about the need for unity. Most of the recruits cried. Nevells was told to parade through the room, carrying the flag.
The next morning, she couldn't move.
According to medical records, she reported to the branch medical clinic, complaining of bruises and swollen glands. She was seen by an independent duty corpsman, a Navy chief, who noted on the chart, ``moderate-severe contusions all over body.''
Nevells said she told the chief about what had happened the day before. She said the chief, a woman, advised her to let the matter drop, that no one would believe her.
``She told me it was my word against their word,'' Nevells said. ``She said, `You're an E-1, these are five male chiefs.' She said, `You have four more years to go. You don't want to rock the boat. If you rock the boat, your life will be a living hell for the next four years.' ''
The corpsman, who is now stationed in Panama, has denied either making that statement or being informed of the shower incident. She told investigators she was the training center's Equal Employment Opportunity officer at the time and that, had she been informed of the beating, she would have notified the command.
But no one else at the boot camp learned of the incident.
Nevells kept quiet. She returned to the clinic for treatment of persistent earaches. She did not mention the beating to anyone, which investigators point to as a reason for finding that it did not occur. When she graduated from the center that fall, her written evaluation praised the boot camp and the enlisted instructors for challenging her.
``What was I supposed to do?'' Nevells said. ``I was a seaman recruit. I'd been there five days. The people who were supposed to be my role models are doing these things to me.
``Who was I supposed to trust? They'd totally blown everything I thought was right.''
After finishing recruit training, Nevells reported to ``A'' school at the Navy's Fleet Combat Training Center at Dam Neck, which provides formal training in specialized Navy jobs. She learned to be an operations specialist.
Her medical problems continued, forcing her to go to the branch clinic on numerous occasions for severe earaches, according to medical documents.
In March, Nevells was transferred to the Navy's Anti-Air warfare center in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, her first duty station.
Nevells said her health worsened there. She fought daily bouts of nausea and dizziness. She started falling down. She sprained her ankle, injured her left wrist and bruised a knee.
``I'd be walking down the hallway,'' Nevells said. ``It would feel like I would stumble and catch myself.''
In December 1993, Nevells was referred to Portsmouth Naval Medical Center for testing.
When she was preparing to leave Guantanamo, Nevells said, she told a division officer in her command about the Orlando beating.
The officer, a Navy lieutenant, later acknowledged to NCIS agents that he did hear the story but he related different details. He said Nevells told him she had been wrapped in a blanket at the time of the incident.
Once at the Portsmouth hospital, Nevells was diagnosed with the beginning stages of Meniere's disease, a disorder of the inner ear canal, characterized by nausea, vomiting and an internally audible loud buzzing sound. There is no known cause for the disease, but Nevells said doctors told her that the 1992 incident and her constant bouts with ear infections since then could have contributed to the condition.
Nevells returned to Guantanamo for several weeks but eventually was referred for discharge because of the disability. She transferred to the Transient Personnel Unit and then to the Portsmouth hospital's medical holding division.
While she was at Portsmouth for an evaluation, she repeated her story of what had happened. The hospital staff notified the NCIS and the investigation started.
The results of that probe have been sent to the chief of naval education and training in Pensacola, Fla., for a review of the training practices used on Navy recruits. The Orlando boot camp has been closed as part of the military downsizing, its functions moved to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center north of Chicago.
Nevells, a tall woman with brown eyes and short brown hair, said she never asked for the inquiry. She didn't want the publicity that followed in mid-December when a Navy memo was leaked to The Virginian-Pilot.
She just wanted out.
She said she hopes to move to Texas with her husband, Don Sparkman, a shipboard firefighter on the guided missile cruiser Normandy who also is awaiting discharge.
In the interview last week, Nevells said she understood that the Navy had determined her allegations to be ``unfounded.'' She said she doesn't care.
``People are going to believe what they want,'' Nevells said. ``What bothers me is that other people are going to go through it because no one is going to stop it.
``They know it's out there. They know it's happening and no one is doing anything about it.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by Bill Tiernan, Staff
Stacie M. Nevells will leave the Navy Friday. She is receiving a
medical discharge.
KEYWORDS: NAVY RECRUIT HAZING ASSAULT BASIC TRAINING by CNB