I was so excited when I heard that the new Commandant was a woman, but we will just chuck that in the burning pile of Coast Guard disappointments.

** This anonymous U.S. Coast Guard Survivor Testimonial was originally submitted to “The Pettiest Officer of the U.S. Coast Guard” on Facebook in May of 2024 and re-published by MLAA. MLAA does not know the identity of the author and has not verified any of the claims or allegations made in this testimonial. Light formatting changes for readability, or redactions for PII may have been applied before publishing. **

No one's ever heard this full story, including my spouse. Because who wants to be married to somebody that can't protect themselves; because who wants to have kids with somebody that couldn't even protect themselves? I put off having kids for over a decade for fear that I would have a girl and I would fail to protect her and the same thing would happen.

My first unit out of Bootcamp was a surf station, and I could not have walked into a more toxic environment. The inappropriate comments and sexual advances from my seniors started immediately, mostly from BM2s and BM3s. I failed to qualify on time because depending on who the coxswain was, they would try to trade sexual favors for sign-offs and I was lagging behind. Every time I needed to get a sign-off, I got asked for a blow job instead. I was scared shitless to stand overnight comms watch because depending on who the officer of the day was, I knew I would be approached in the middle of the night and asked for dirty pictures. BM2 or BM1 wanted to jerk off on my breasts "because his wife doesn't have nice breasts".

That HS1 touched me inappropriately constantly and there is no way it went unnoticed by the crew. Rumors started that I was sleeping with him instead.

At about my six-month mark, a female from the other section called me hysterical asking for a ride in the middle of the night. I picked her up mostly naked and bloody from the BM2's house. I was in the room days later when she reported. Nothing happened. Nothing fucking happened. They moved her to permanent mess duty because she was a wreck and then convinced her to put her name on an undesirable A school list. They told her it was her only way out of there. She was raped once more before leaving the unit, by my perpetrator, unfortunately. I never saw her again and I just want to give her a huge hug.

By the end of my first year, I was the only junior female in my section and I was desperately lonely. I got invited to a going away party for a BM3 and I thought I was finally making friends. I found out later at the smoke pit that a bunch of the guys were slipping additional shots in my drinks all night and thought it was hilarious. It changed my life. About halfway through the party, the departing BM3 asked me about my new car and asked if he could see it in the parking lot. Next thing I knew, he grabbed me outside and shoved me. I blacked out. I came to later with him on top of me and I hit him—hard. The punch was bad because I was fully drunk and I busted open his eyebrow but felt a pop in my hand. I broke my pinky finger and to this day, it's still very crooked; it's a constant reminder of him and I fucking hate it. I got away from him and ran but didn't make it far. He hit me and I blacked again. I woke up to him sodomizing me and loving it. He kept narrating it and telling me how his super religious wife wouldn't let him do that and he missed it. I bled for weeks. He eventually left me alone and I stumbled back to the barracks.

I had seen the lack of action when a report was made and I was so ashamed that I had gotten drunk around my crew and put myself in that situation. There was no way I was reporting and putting myself through that retelling. The only person I told, who I thought could at least help me get STD tested or therapy or something, ended up telling me that I would look great in a sex swing strung up between the coxswain's chairs on the 47. He told me no one would believe me because the BM3 was very (outwardly) religious and had a wife and three kids. He was a pillar of the community. Sadly, he was probably right.

By the time I left that unit at two years, I couldn't even get mail because the mail clerk was using my packages to try to blackmail me into sexting and fucking him. He had a dirty talk kink. He didn't understand why my respect/friendship with his wife was a deterrent. I had to do my laundry at a family member's house because my underwear and bras constantly went missing.

The memories of that unit haunt me. I fell into a dark hole that took me years to climb out of. I drank, I smoked, I thought about killing myself. It took sobriety and a good marriage to save me. I still wake up in cold sweats and thrashing. This will never go away. He will never not exist. It guts me. I'm shaking writing this and I want to vomit. He gets to live his happy little life with his blissful ignorant family and I get to wake up screaming. I'm just here for the retirement now - the CG can pay for my therapy later.

I was so excited when I heard that the new commandant was a woman, but we will just chuck that in the burning pile of CG disappointments.