"...the Department Head's striking resemblance to a turkey earned him the nickname 'Indook'..."
"Rumor had it that more than one senior officer was quietly reassigned, via the Bethesda Naval Hospital rubber room, to new duties."
"He will always be remembered by my class as the guy who taught us the Russian expression, "Ne sui hui v chai," which means 'Don't stir your tea with your p*cker.'"
NEXT WEEK:
Nick Shadrin
Ne
sui hui v chai
by Jean d'Isle
' 
n
last week's article, I
introduced you to some of the more interesting Russian
instructors at the Navy Language School in Anacostia. In
addition to the five I described (Zubov, of
"gromadny chemodan" fame; Petrov, former
bodyguard to the Chinese warlord and CIA operative;
Galitzen, the prince; 
Richter,
the grapefruit sucker and alleged Nazi collaborator; and
Kovalevsky, the ex-Colonel of cavalry), the staff
included Ushakov, the Department Head, whose striking
resemblance to a turkey earned him the nickname
"Indook"; Robotnikov, who took over as
Department Head when "Indook" retired; Fromich,
nicknamed "Meelee"for his over-solicitous
classroom manner; Tubelis, one of the two female
instructors-the name of the other one escapes me; and
"Starii" Myer, who taught both German and
Russian.
The method of instruction in the Russian Department was designed to produce the most proficient linguist possible in nine months of intensive study, without regard to the family life or mental health of the student.
Several groups of students were
rotating through the classrooms during my time there. One
group comprised the prospective Naval Attache and
Assistant Naval Attaché to Moscow, and their wives.
Another group was always in civilian clothes, never spoke
to anyone outside their classes, and were overheard from
time to time conferring in something other than Russian
or English (aliens?). A third group, with the largest
number of students, was made up of navy enlisted
personnel who would eventually become career Russian
linguists. A fourth group was similar to my own-all naval
officers about three months ahead of my class in the
cycle. They did not mix the enlisted and officers in a
class-it was too embarrassing for the officers.
The attrition in the 
school was legendary
(my class started with ten and ended with five). Tales of
previous classes included mental breakdowns and marital
dissolution. Rumor had it that more than one senior
officer crumbled under the load and was quietly
reassigned, via the Bethesda Naval Hospital rubber room,
to new duties. The pace was intense: no English allowed
after the first week; each day's lesson prepared the
night before; all rules of grammar completed by the third
month; 100 new vocabulary words per day; weekly graded
written and oral exams; a final oral exam placing each
student in the role of interpreter for a technical
discussion between the Department Head (who used only
English) and a Russian from outside the school (who used
only Russian). (More about this guy later). No
"cultural" frills were accommodated (movies,
etc.). Failure to prepare a lesson for the following day
was immediately apparent and reflected in a "class
participation" grade factored into each week's work.
Although no military duties 
were
assigned for the duration of the course, infrequently, on
weekends only, we were tasked to perform escort duty for
the foreign students learning English in the building
next door. A bus would load up this mobile Tower of
Babel, drop us off at some place like the Smithsonian or
another D.C. tourist attraction, and leave the escort
officer the challenge of rounding them all up for the
return trip several hours later. I learned to say,
"Getcherass over here," in six languages.
When graduation time rolled around, we were introduced
to a fascinating bear of a native Russian named Nicholas
Shadrin, who was to play the role of "the
Russian" in our final "perevod," which
would determine whether we 
had
achieved the status of
"interpreter-translator." Nicholas Shadrin
really deserves a complete article to cover his
fascinating story. So let me leave you with this. Nick
was a defector from the Soviet Union and was the subject
of a 1981 book by Henry Hurt, excerpts of which were
published in the "Readers Digest" around that
same time. He will always be remembered by my class as
the guy who taught us the Russian expression, "Ne
sui hui v chai," which means "Don't stir your
tea with your p*cker."
The philosophy embodied in this admonition completely escaped us all, but it became a rallying cry for our class, and, to a man, I'm sure we've tried to live by it, if not in spirit, certainly in fact. I know I have.
__________________________________________________
Jean
d'Isle is a retired naval officer living
in Hawaii.
During his military
career he served in a number of overseas assignments,
including Germany, England, Spain, Viet Nam and Puerto
Rico. Following his retirement, he was an adjunct faculty
member of Hawaii Pacific University and is currently
under contract with the U.S. Navy at the submarine base
in Pearl Harbor.
Jean's column, View From d'Isle, is a regular feature of VegSource On-Line Magazine.