I'm a tad older then you and I didn't care for inspections either but I do remember change of command nonsense in the early 70's. We'd get all dressed up in our super duper starched whites, stand at attention, get inspected, behave ourselves for awhile then get secured at noon and head to the club where there was always a coupla kegs and free chow for the crew. Seems like we were having a change of command every six months.
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