Maritime Legal Aid & Advocacy

In the Coast Guard, I slept with my doors locked and a knife in my hand. Years later I still have nightmares and can’t escape what they put me through.

** This U.S. Coast Guard Survivor Testimonial was originally submitted to “The Pettiest Officer of the U.S. Coast Guard” on Facebook by Jessica Noël in May of 2024 and re-published by MLAA. MLAA 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. **

I joined the USCG in 2003, a year after getting out of high school. I wanted to be an AST, do those hard search and rescue missions.

I grew up a swimmer, one of the top swimmers in North Carolina State each year. I knew I could finish the training it required to get to be an AST.

So there I was at 18 in USCG boot camp getting my butt handed to me but whipping me into shape.

The signs were there from the get-go. My male boot camp drill instructor always singled me out and especially in front of his buddies. I shrugged it off and just minded my own business because I never did hear the comments even though I knew what was being talked about.

I finished boot camp and was sent to a USCG small boat station. This was it, I was going to go here and train and then go off to AST school. Or at least I thought.

Shortly after I arrived at the station, the comments from the majority of the guys started: whore, slut, other derogatory statements. The eye googling up and down the body. I chose to ignore and just get through my workdays. It made my workdays long and I would cry at night but I was going to get through.

Just shy of a year at the station, I was purposely tripped. Everyone was laughing like crazy except the paramedic and one of the other guys who scrambled to help me realizing my elbow was fractured and dislocated from falling so hard on it. My senior chief made the guy who tripped me take me to the ER. Not a word was said and I tried to stay as far away from him as possible. If the hospital would have asked me if I felt safe with him I would have told them no and I would have called someone else to pick me up. I only realized in my later thinking that he tripped me to hurt me because he was getting out of the USCG two days later and wouldn’t have to face the results of hurting me in his assault. The guys wanted me to sleep with them but I wouldn’t.

I was out of work on medical leave for almost a week. Only to find when I returned a false MISHAP report posted. It stated I was chasing after a ball that was being kicked around and fell. There was no ball! I wrote up a proper MISHAP report and brought it to my BM’s office where him and a couple of others were located. I explained the posted MISHAP report was false and I wrote up a proper one. They all laughed and ripped up my MISHAP report throwing it in the trash in front of me.

It was at this time I did not feel safe being at work. I knew no one had my back. I knew I was alone!

The comments, eye googling, and all continued.

I learned the only other female at the station, because there was only her and I, was sleeping around with a good majority of the guys. Now looking back I question if she actually did it because she wanted to or because she was forced to. I wish I would have had the courage to ask her back then.

From the result of my injured arm, I was put on light duty which I remained the rest of the time in the USCG. Which meant my time was spent in the Comms room because I couldn’t do much else.

Sitting watch one night two of the guys came in. Not out of the normal for someone to walk in so I thought nothing of it. That was until they had me cornered. I was in shock not knowing what was going on. One of the guys hit me in my slinged injured arm several times in a row. Then he said “We are going to break you the same way we broke —-other girl-” She was the other female there at the station with me. I don’t know what came out of my mouth after that besides a lot of screaming and cussing as loud as possible. The in charge BM came running in, he kicked them out and told me to take a break and calm down.

When I came back I sat down and wrote out a detailed report addressed to my Senior Chief about what was going on, why I felt unsafe, and the works.

The following day I turned the paper in to my Senior Chief. He acted shocked like he didn’t know what was going on. He had a meeting with said guys. Then he had a meeting with me. He tried to downplay my safety concerns saying “They’d never do anything like that to you.” I told him I was in fear for my life and I did not know what to do or think. He asked if I wanted to press charges to which I stated yes.

Several months went by and nothing. I wrote my congressman. To which a letter was sent to Sector asking about my case. To which was then Sector calling my Senior Chief asking why they hadn’t heard of any of it and for him to take care of it quickly. My Senior Chief was then upset at me asking why I would write my congressman when he said he would take care of it. He was upset because he got in trouble for not reporting it.

Then the Captains Mast happened shortly after. A little slap on the wrist saying the guy who hit and threatened me couldn’t advance for a year. That’s a joke because in the USCG it takes forever to advance in rank. It was all just to sweep my stuff under the rug, make it look like they did something and for me to shut up. Then my Senior Chief felt bad for the guy who got in trouble so he helped him get into the Surfman program to help accelerate his career.

There were no locks on the doors on base so I always had to slide a dresser in front of my door to block it. I also always slept with a knife in my hand not knowing what to expect. Even when I was at my apartment, I slept with my doors locked and a knife in my hand. I was constantly watching to see if they would follow me home.

My injury led to my ligament tearing completely. I had to get reconstructive surgery on my elbow shortly before I got out. Now almost 20 years later I had to have another reconstructive surgery and I’m faced with the reality of a joint replacement before I’m 60 years old which I won’t be able to lift a gallon of milk. But the worst of it all isn’t the physical disability I got, the worst is the mental anxiety and PTSD that still plagues my life. I’m awakened with nightmares constantly. I cannot be in large gatherings. Even going to the VA medical center gives me anxiety. I always dream I’m stuck back there and can’t escape. It has led to troubles within my day-to-day life, affects my kids’ life and my marriage.

I know the people who did all of this to me never think of it at all. I think about it daily, have nightmares I’m stuck there, and I’m stuck with it for the rest of my life!

Thank you for doing what you do!

—Jessica Noël

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