Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Cartoon #1

       
           Used to be like outside any Naval Base… but not anymore!!!

'Navy Pay'

I'm just trying to remember about when the Navy pay line was canceled out of existence. Back when I was a Twenty year old halfwit idiot fresh out of high school & still wet-behind-the-ears, I remember the days before direct deposit when you stood nutt to butt in a long line with your ID card in hand so you could claim your share of green backs to later stash in an ol’ boondocker in the back of your standup locker like a personal safe!!! 

You see… there were no established trustworthy financial repositories to do business outside the dispersing office… doing economic business in a seagoing vessel could cost you an arm or a leg!!!  There were no ATM machines... MWR Savings & Loan Bingo Establishments… or plastic credit cards dispatched by the DoD Credit dispensary!!! There wasn’t any electronic wiring of funds or payday loans with any legal standard!!! Nope… when you were broke you were flat busted until the next payday… unless you could barter $20 for $30 on your next paycheck… illegal slush funds!!! But that can be covered in another yarn...

Paydays like today were established twice a month… on the first and fifteenth… and it usually commenced at a specific time of the day on the messdecks  with a couple a’ Gunners loaded with .45s’ and ready to shoot anybody trying to commit any funny business… Everyone would line up, sign the pay list & get there cash in a nice… long… unadulterated fashion!!!  If you missed out on the line then you had to make special arrangements with the DISBO to pick your cabbage on a later date!!!

I remember we had to make a stop by the dispersing office a few days before and initial our social security number out there for everyone to see… acknowledging our pay amount in case of any issues… you know sometimes your pay got screwed up… a lot!!!

Not a very gaudamned efficient way of doing business… but that’s what we had before electronic data links to shore investment accounts and same day allotments to the ol’ lady back on the beach!!!

Somewhere along the line the younger generation has been spared the task of wasting half their gaudamn day standing in line and the Navy decided to put ‘em all on Direct Deposit… Now the DISBO has all but got a job…

Back in the old days he would have to go to the bank guarded with a sidearm to pick up all that cash carrying it across base in a briefcase… it’s a wonder none of them bastards ever got thumped over the head with a dogg’n wrench with all the predatory sharks and sneaky Petes out there from pier to pier…

Hell, even the damn Corpsman sons-a-bitches would get involved… stand’n at the head of the pay line with vaccinations… if you wanted to get paid you had to get your damn shots first!!!

Then… if you were in a foreign port like Singapore, Hong Kong, Thailand… etc.etc… you got a currency exchange table at the end of the pay line… how do ya like them apples!!! And the fella runn’n the damn thing can hardly speak a lick of English… but don’t worry, your money is safe in his hands!!!

Now the Navy has gone completely cashless… they give you a damn ‘CASH’ smart card with a chip in it so you can transfer funds between the card and your bank account… it’s even got a damn VISA*MasterCard logo on it!!! They got a make shift ATM machine hooked up so you can put chump change on the card and use it on the GEDUNK machines and the ship store!! CRAZY AIN’T IT!?!?!?!?

So all you young Whipper Snappers out there consider yourselves lucky!!! The Navy Finance System of days gone by when young sailors went to sea in greasy smelly dungaroos and leaned on each other secured  in their manhood nutt to butt while talk’n ‘bout Suzie Rotten Crotch for hours on end just to get paid… is long gone… and I suppose so are the slush funds we used to keeps the suds’ a com’n when we didn’t have a dime to our name on liberty… he,he!!! Them were the days!!!



Friday, August 26, 2011

“Season Of The Chief”

Today was not unlike any other 16th of September in the Navy as many a new fouled anchor was pinned on our new legacy in the Chief’s Mess. Hence we all sat idly by as our new brothers and sisters were accepted into our exclusive fraternity for the ages. To be a Chief among our ranks is to be given the privilege and responsibility of no other group of non-commissioned officer in the Armed Forces. This is made quite evident in the “CPO Creed.”

Something most of us were not consciously aware of but became obvious as we were tested through the season was the true meaning of being Chief Petty Officers. These guys were crusty salts with tattoos and permanent hooks for index fingers to carry their coffee mugs. They own the cliché, “Backbone of the Navy” for a reason. These hard-core bastards were always in your ass but were always there for you when you needed them most. That’s what I got out of “The Season” as I’m sure many of my brothers and sisters feel the same.

Though the season has changed a bit over the years as the Politically Correct madness has engulfed our Armed Forces, I believe the mess has done quite a job trying to keep the value of the season true. The Smug may have taken our toolbox away from us to make men out of boys but they didn’t take away our character or charm. No, that is something they’ll never be able to withhold from us.

Some Navy Brass would argue that CPO initiations do nothing but humiliate and degrade the selectees. I ask of them, “have you read the CPO Creed? In the beginning, word for word it states;

“During the course of this day, you have been caused to suffer indignities, to experience humiliations. This you have accomplished with rare good grace and therefore, we now believe it fitting to explain to you why this was done. There was no intent, no desire, to demean. Pointless as it may have seemed to you, there was a valid, time-honored reason behind every single deed, behind each pointed barb.”

The arguments against initiation posed by officers are relatively easy to combat, because the validity and need for the process can be explained and shown. In recent years some Commanding Officers have been invited to impose on the ceremonies and once witnessed to the accounts had vilified our reasoning to their own questions and curiosities.

Yes, in the Navy we’ve seen the changes in Boot Camp, Crossing the Line ceremonies and Chief Initiations alike. The right of passage has been labeled from Initiations to Inductions and all but discarded yet we still find a way to ad true value. I won’t always agree with all the changes, but hey we can always agree to disagree, and some things do need to change in time. So, let none of it take away from what any of our young brothers and sisters have went through this season as to any other. You have earned your right to be a “Chief” no less than any other… and I for one applaud you!

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

A SAILOR’S PHILOSOPHY

Someone asked me if I could post this one... thought it was pretty gaudamned funny...

A crusty ol’ Crackerjack named Jack with many years of sea going experience approaches the great mathematician Pythagoras… who had invented the Pythagorean Theorem… and says to him,
“I wanna know the meaning of life and everything that comes with it…”

Pythagoras says,
“ You know my famous theorem?”

Jack says,
“The one ‘bout them triangles… something ‘bout squaws, hippopotami and hides or some shit like that?”

Pythagoras looks at him astonishingly and replies,
“Why yes… you mean squares, Hypotenuses & sides... I discovered it 2,510 years ago and it still holds true today!!”

Then Jack responds,
"Oh yeah, but my math teacher had this catchy way of teaching it… and I never forgot!"

Pythagoras rebuts,
“But you forgot the theorem… right?”

Jack,
“ Well Sorta’ my memory ain’t all that wonderful… due to all them late nights a’ drink’n & whor’n...”

To that Pythagoras replies,
“What about the mystic rule of three… pyramid power… transmigration of souls… mathematics of music… the golden ratio and the Music of the Spheres?”

Jack looks a bit puzzled,
“Huh?”

Pythagoras recites,
“With mathematics as the essence of all being… the Universal Truth… mathematics is God!”

Jack retorts,
“You sound like one of them liberal God hat’n sons-a-bitches!”

 To that of which Pythagoras replies,
“And you say this century of yours is more advanced than the 6th century BC? Well…”

Jack interrupts…
“Yep, we got planes, trains & automobiles… Great big steal ships with  computers &  rockets that go bang… we also got booze, babes and go-go bars!!”

Pythagoras asks,
“What are go-go bars?”

Jack then sits down and goes into detail,
“Well you see, go-go bars are places you can find the finest in lipstick wearing… high healed… G-string thong strapp’n beauties with peek-a-boo bras and panties that’ll grab yah by the genitalia and make your testosterone levels peak beyond manhood… “

Pythagoras somewhat impressed,
“I can see you have some enjoyments that we lack… hmm… but what is it exactly you want from me?”

To that Jack says,
“Well… what can this theorem of yours do to help me with the dames… broads… you know, the finer sex!!!”

Pythagoras,
“What exactly is the problem???”

Jack,
“Well I go to these go-go bars that I told you about, so there’s no problem getting the girls, but I keep getting the wrong ones… I get ripped off… robbed… two-timed… & I’m usually left sobbing drunk on my pillow.”

Pythagoras,
“ This might help you.”

He writes something on a wax tablet and gives it to the crusty ol’ sailor.

Jack reads it out loud,
“(GB)2 + (AB) 2 + (AG)(BJ) + 69 + (AE) + (AG)(EG) = PQ…”

Then Jack says with dismay,
“ It’s a formula…”

Pythagoras replies,
“Yes in which ‘G’=girls… ‘B’ =bars… and ‘BJ’ and ‘69’ = …well, you know –and the other stuff is triangulation theory. Hope it helps!!”

To this Jack replies,
“But…But…”

Pythagoras,
 
“Sorry… I keep forgetting that not everyone shares my passion for mathematics. Basically, this is how you apply it:
1) Go to three different bars. Have a drink and a look round, then go back to the best.
2) Sit with three girls. Buy each one a drink, talk to her, then go back to the best.
3) Pay her handsomely and take her to a hotel…  You know the rest… Send her away in the morning.
4)Do this for three nights… then go back to the best girl… and keep her for three days.
5) Repeat the whole process three times… then you will find a girl worth keeping for three weeks… ditto… three months… ditto… three years… then you will have found a girl worth keeping for the rest of your life.”


Jack somewhat astonished replies,
“That’s a hell of a lot of girls, Pythagoras.”

To which Pythagoras replies,
“Two Hundred & Forty Three girls to be exact… and each rising on a triangle of perfection. Two Hundred & Forty Three… of course, being the first number of the form PQ where P and Q are a twin prime pair!”

Jack looks at him with a shit eat’n grin and says,
“I’d like to try a prime pair of twins with big titties...”

Pythagoras then says,
“Be careful Jack… that would make a different kind of triangle… an eternal triangle. They’d get jealous of each other, and that’s trouble!!!”

Jack,
“Even if I paid them the same???”

Pythagoras,
“Better to stick to the formula…”

Jack,
“Have you tried it, Pythagoras?”

To which Pythagoras answers,
“I tried yes… but by the time I got to number sixty-six… which is triangular, but unlucky…  I was so weary of women that I found mathematical equations more exciting. That’s how I got started on triangles.”

Jack,
“Well ain’t that some shit… thanks Pythagorus, I’ll give it a try. I’m looking forward to meeting P and Q!!!”

__________________________________________________

In evolutionary terms…  A man needs to be sure that the children he is raising are his own, and for that, he needs a faithful partner … of course… he doesn’t expect to be faithful himself.
His evolutionary motivation is to spread his seed as widely as he can… hence the reason WHY SAILORS HAVE GIRLFRIENDS IN EVERY PORT!!!

'The Challenge'

A young Ensign and his Chief were sitting next to each other in the office after Quarters one day. The Ensign leans over to the Chief who was leaning back in his chair with his combo cover over his eyes and asks if he wants to play a fun game.
The Chief just wants to snooze and be left alone so he politely declines… turns his head away… and tries to sleep. The Ensign persists and explains that it's a real easy game. He explains,
"I ask a question and if you don't know the answer you pay me $5. Then you ask a question and if I don't know the answer I'll pay you $5."
Again the Chief politely declines and tries to snooze. The Ensign, now somewhat agitated, says,
"O.K., if you don't know the answer you pay me $5 and if I don't know the answer I pay you $50!"
Now, that got the Chief’s attention… after all that’s extra beer money… so he agrees to the game.
The Ensign asks the first question,
"What's the distance from the earth to the moon?"
Then Chief doesn't say a word and just hands the Ensign $5.

Now, it’s the Chief's turn. He asks the Ensign,
"What goes up a hill with three legs and comes down on four?"
The Ensign looks at him with a puzzled look, takes out his laptop computer, looks through all his references and after about an hour wakes the Chief and hands him $50. The Chief politely takes the $50 from the Ensign… turns away and tries to return to his snooze.

The Ensign, a little miffed, asks,
"Well what's the answer to the question?"
Without a word, the Chief reaches into his wallet… hands $5 to the young Ensign… turns away and returns to his snooze...



Friday, August 19, 2011

A Sailor & His Traditions!!

This here is not a Sea Story, but it is a NO SHITTER none the less!!!
 
Since 1993 the Navy has had the Official Sailor's Creed. Since then it has changed twice to represent what the "PC" world would like our Navy to represent! Though it is in the right spirit of Good Order and sounds great, it's hardly traditional as compared to the now defunct Rights of Passage such as Chief's Initiations, Wog Ceremonies....etc!! I think you might get my point!!!
 
Here is the Navy's Official Sailors Creed!!
 
Sailor's Creed
 
I am a United States Sailor.
I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America and I will obey the orders of those appointed over me.
I represent the fighting spirit of the Navy and all who have gone before me to defend freedom and democracy around the world.
I proudly serve my country’s Navy combat team with Honor, Courage and Commitment .
I am committed to excellence and the fair treatment of all.
Sounds almost like the initial enlistment oath right? Why don't they just call it that?
 
Now, back in the day here was the Navy's unofficial Sailor's Creed without all the "PC" flavor!!!
 
-Between the security of childhood and the insecurity of second childhood we find a fascinating group of humanity called Sailors. They come in all assorted sizes, weights and sobriety. They can be found anywhere, on ships at sea, in shorebases, in bars, in love and always in debt. Girls love them, towns tolerate them and the government support them. A sailor is laziness with a pack of cards, bravery with tattooed arms and the protector of the sea.
-They have the energy of a turtle, the slyness of a fox, the brains of an idiot, the stories of a sea captain, the sincerity of a liar and aspirations of a Casanova, and when he wants something it is usually connected with a request form.
-Some of his interests are: Women, Dames, Girls, Females and the Opposite sex
-He dislikes answering letters, wearing his uniform, superior officers, Navy food and working.
-No one else can cram into one small pocket: A little green book, A packet of cards, A picture of his girl, A comb, And what's left of his last months pay
-He likes to spend some of his money on girls, some on beer, some on poker and the rest foolishly.
-A sailor is a magic creature; you can lock him out of your home but not your heart. You can scratch him off your mail list but not off your mind.
-His is your long away from home love and your one and only bleary-eyed good-for-nothing bundle of worries, but all your shattered dreams become insignificant when your sailor docks, looks at you with those bloodshot bleary eyes and says - "Hiya Honey".
 
I think that about sums it up!!
 
 
 

“Leedy Creature”

In all your life do you ever remember anyone who resembled a short, fat, debilitated ol’ coot who slobbered, belched and farted at every turn?!?  I knew one once on the ol’ Chucky “V” around 91’. His name was Petty Officer Leedy or “Leedy Creature” with all meaningful terms of endearment!!!

Many of you scallywags might remember an ol’ fairy tale by the name of ‘Rumpelstilskin!’ But what most of you probably don’t realize is that the name in itself suggests the foreskin of an uncircumcised and flaccid nature connected to an ol’ fart who can’t get a chubby. Picture a tiny, wrinkly male member hanging lifeless from beneath his protruding gut like an elongated wart hanging from the belly of a giant toad. The fundamental theme here…  Rumpelstilskin was incapable of getting an erection and could not copulate, so therefore he negotiated underhanded deals to obtain his heir in life.

This pretty much sum ups the ol’ ‘Leedy Creature!’ Leedy was a sorry old Crusty Coot… enjoy’n nothing better than sleep’n & drink’n beer on his time off. The wretched son-of-a-bitch was worthless in the workcenter and could never be found when it was time to carry on any evolution that required more than just showing up… Hell, he couldn’t even do that right most of the time… about as handy as a trap door on a canoe!!!

 His uniform always looked like he pulled it from under a rock and he always had a five-o-clock shadow that got him in more trouble than most anyone could deal with. The lot of us just wrote him off as a dirty ol’ man with nothing else going for him. He wasn’t even worth the time wasted squaring away. I suppose since the ‘COC’ never put him on report they just assumed he’d fall off the planet!

 Leedy just so happened to room with a couple of my running mates on the dry dock barge. He’d come lurching in through the door, gasping and farting, and collapse on the bed snort’n and snoring within minutes off the ship! His great white belly heaving with the effort of each breath like a pregnant sow in labor, he would gasp and wheeze like a great whale. If we were too loud and annoying he'd roll over and bare his plumber’s crack for all to see. Still the lights would annoy him...

 “Turn the Fucking lights off! Why am I always surrounded by assholes?”

 After an hour or two of nap time he'd carry his fat ass to the White Pig or 'Albino Swino' right across the street from base. How quaint, the bar was named after him! As disgusting as this ol’ mate was I remember him walking into the bar and across the way next to the pool table was a typical 'Bremelo' with blubber hanging out of her spandex and a cigarette hanging from her lipstick laden mouth!

 “Hey you! Come on over here and sit on my prong.”

He was standing there with the front of his shirt covered in stains and the crotch of his pants looked yellow with what looked like old urine and crusty gonorrhea-droppings. Well, I guess the Bremelo was in to that sort of thing because she was all sorts of hot and bothered by the 'Leedy Creature' and couldn’t seem to get enough of him all night!! As we would gaze in revulsion at Leedy’s flaccid, obese body, stinking with sweat and covered with burly hair, we couldn’t help but notice the overpowering smell of 'Brut 33' cologne and dirty feet. I guess it was all a match made in hell!!!

 But of all his creeped out, perverted and degenerate drunkard ways, I never realized there was a redeeming quality about the 'Leedy Creature!' One afternoon after a Divisional PT session some of us were messing around on the gym wrestling mats. Leedy came walking in and said he could show us a few things. Wow, this guy really knew his wrestling moves. He had more knowledge locked up in that ol’ head of his than any wrestling coach I had ever known. After a long conversation about high school wrestling and reminiscing about the old days, Leedy told me how he was a state champ back in his day in Michigan. For an old far-out wacko like himself he really knew his stuff. I kinda had a different way of looking at the 'Leedy Creature' after that. I guess he just lost his way somewhere down the line.

I don’t know what ever became of him. Last I heard he got kicked outta the Navy for being a drunkard! He’s probably sitt'n all porked up on a barstool somewhere with his meaty arms wrapped around a pitcher of cheap beer and a pack of camel cigarettes with his hairy plumber’s crack mushroomed over the top of a bar stool! Now, try clearing that thought outta your head!! He-He!!!



'A Sailor & His Beer'

A recreational boater, a tugboat crewman, and an old salt sailor went into a bar and each ordered a beer. Each found a fly in their beer.

The recreational boater looked in his beer and said, "hey bartender I have a fly in my beer. Give me another beer."

The tugboat crewman looked in his beer, found the fly, reached in an picked it out and continued drinking.

The old salt sailor looked in his beer, saw the fly, grabbed it by the wings, shook it over the glass and yelled, "Spit it out, Spit it out!"



Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Seaman & The Captain...

It was a dark, stormy, night. The Sailor was on his first assignment, and it was guard duty. A Captain stepped out taking his dog for a walk. The nervous young Seaman snapped to attention, made a perfect salute, and snapped out ,

" Good Evening, Sir!"

The Captain, out for some relaxation, returned the salute and said,
 "Good evening Seaman, nice night, isn't it?"
Well it wasn't a nice night, but the Sailor wasn't going to disagree with the Captain, so he saluted again and replied,
"Yes Sir!".

The Captain continued,
"You know there's something about a stormy night that I find soothing, it's really relaxing. Don't you agree?"
The Seaman didn't agree, but then the seaman was just a seaman, and responded,
" Yes Sir!"

Then the Captain, pointing at the dog said,
"This is a Golden Retriever, the best type of dog to train."
The Seaman glanced at the dog, saluted yet again and said,
" Yes Sir!"
The Captain continued,
"I got this dog for my wife."
The Seaman simply said,
"Good trade Sir!"


Sunday, August 14, 2011

'Lusty Lady'

Just another no shitter...

Back in my day... if you were a young red-blooded American 'Crackerjack' in this ol' Canoe club you either had to relegate yourself to a more pontifical life of abstinence
, or dabble in a man's world of iniquity...  or turn queer if that's what floated your boat but the ol' UCMJ kinda frowned upon such actions... you know those who were light in the loafers!!!

There's a reason for the ol' clichés... drinks like a sailor... cuss's like a sailor... & a girl at every port!! That's what sailors were meant to do... to be!!!

We 'Crackerjack' sailors always seemed to precipitate to a particular type of establishment...  rather it was booze, broads or dames... no matter where you went or in what order you took it... someone had 'Been there and done that'… in every coastal city in the world!!!

If you were a 'Cherryboy'... one of your good ol' hearty shipmates introduced you to the more commercial world of XXX-rated... pornographic fashioned... salacious raunchiness!!! And this lifestyle didn't involve monumental minutes of preheated foreplay... poetry... or romantic courtship! Nope... just enough testosterone filled imagery to fill up a seventy-two hour liberty span with plenty of memories and possibly a couple of visits to the duty corpsman if you weren't careful!!!

One place in particular came to mind just the other day when talk'n with some cohorts at work about downtown Seattle... suppose the ol' place closed down last year no thanks to the internet and a piss-poor economy...

If any of you out there ever frequented the late night streets of Seattle and San Francisco... you ought'a know this place... 'The Lusty Lady'!!! A peep show extravaganza fashioned with the 1970s golden age of porno atmosphere, dark... seedy... and I hope nobody knows me here kinda feeling!!! It even had a wonderful marquee in the market of humorous innuendos that made the place famous...

Happy Nude Year... Kiss Me Under The Cameltoe... Squeezin's Greetings... We Give Raises... Fall Flashn's... Always Open and Never Clothed... We Take off more than Boeing... Happy Spanksgiving... and other sayings that were nice & ripe for erotic wordplay!!!

I heard once that even Bill Gate's stepmother who at the time was the director of the Seattle Art Museum was quoted as say'n...

"The Lusty Lady's marquee is a Seattle Landmark!!!"

I mean you gotta admit... the place stuck as one hell of a marketing ploy... 'Low Cost, High Interest'... hell everybody was interested!!!

You see the 'Lusty' provided exotic dancers behind a sliding panel that  made you feel giddy like a kid before Christmas... for only a quarter at a time!! Hell... I thought places like this were only made for Madonna Videos!!!

But before you went you had to form yourself a crowd of wild beer swill'n drunkards and put down a few Pitures of Seattle's finest 'Rainier Beer' just to get yourself lubed up!!! Three sheets to the wind... young 'Crackerjacks' will shell out their hard earned dough for anything from soiled panties to autographed pictures of 'Marry Magdalene... Then off down the street as you could feel the tension mounting... no pun intended!!!

Once inside, the booths were musty... floors were sticky or wet & slippery... & there was a gaudamned mop boy going from stall to stall try'n his damnedest to keep the place clean and sanitized... hope he got paid well!!! 

The main stage featured several nudie women posing provocatively separated by glass windows to keep'm from being contaminated by wiley customers of all sorts... there were tattooed Betties... Domineering Donnas... Sweet Virgin Virginias and other pretty lady types...

It was dirty... immoral... and cost only a mere quarter!!! Really... isn't that dirty feeling the reason we were lured in the gaudamned crusty confines in the first place?!?!?  Great places in life are where you lose money... drink stuff you have no idea what it was... and for twenty-five cents only to make your pants a bit tighter in the groin'...

Fun, cheap & friendly... at least they had kleenex boxes strategically placed in the joint... but I'd still bring my own set of hand wipes if I were you... Walking out the door was posted the motto...

"We came... We saw... We came again!!!"

Yep, the ladies in these joints were the kind your Momma and the Sunday School Teachers warned you about... Fallen Angel A-Go-Go gals!!! They were fancy & plentiful... not so much sophisticated, but any history of the 'Crackerjack' Navy would not be historically accurate without sweet hootchie-momma gals like these!!!

They dressed up in Victoria Secret Lingerie...  red lipstick... black lace pop-up bras... high-heels... silk thong panties... and played peek-a-boo behind the glass as a preview of what could ever possibly tantalize your desires!!! 

The 'Lusty Lady' had outdone itself... and ladies, I truly hope you got what you were looking for and life has been as good for you as you made it for all us testosterone driven drunkards parading down the boulevard...

We were young... dumb & thought  we were bulletproof...  and we were going to live forever. A very important part of this 'Crackerjacks'  history… perhaps the greatest part.




Thursday, August 11, 2011

4th of July Sea Story

For any of you marvelous 'Crackerjacks' & 'Leathernecks' stationed in San Diego around 89-92... you probably remember the Red Onion at Belmont Park in Ocean Beach. 'Twas' July 4th, 1989... I was celebrating with my buddy, Ed Willis (aka Marlboro Man) and his hot girlfriend drinking 5 gallon buckets of rum and coke at a dollar a gallon. Well, being the young & robust 21 year old indestructible sailor that I thought I was... I proceeded to try and drink the table… let’s just say drinking multiple buckets of rum and coke… a major oversight on my part!!  I should'a slowed down when my buddy and his gal friend warned me. But you know us ‘Crackerjacks’...



Eventually I decided to take a stroll in the cool breeze on the beach to clear my head and as you might expect… I don’t remember much of what happened next. I do remember Ed pick’n me up and dropp’n me two or three times on the way to the car. I mumbled various words of gibberish in a not so polite manner and proceeded to hurl about two thirds of my innards all over him and his… now not so lovely gal!! I’m sure the smell and the slime were not so entertaining at that particular moment.



The next thing I remember was being put in a bathtub by both parties while gett’n stripped to my nether regions and blasted with a cold shower...  only to awake later to a brilliant shining light in which I instantly thought…



"HOLY JESUS HAVE MERCY… I must’ve died and gone to Heaven!!!"



But nooo... unfortunately I was witness to a 5:00AM sunrise glaring off the glass of the downtown San Diego high rises. Needless to say, the boat was gett'n underway at 0600 hours and I was wearing Ed’s girlfriend’s clothes while mine were being washed out. I went to wake up Ed the Marlboro Man who was abruptly interrupted butt nekkitt in bed doing the Horizontal Watusi and we scrambled to get back to the ship on time!!!



Everything was going okay. We got to the ship... ship got underway... and we were just heading out past Point Loma as the ship hit the cross currents and I sat alone in the MK 68 Director... Then it hit me... I started quivering over with the worst case of the dry heaves!!! This lasted for over an hour... It even surpassed the sea and anchor detail. One of those many instances when you tell yourself,



“I’ll never do that again!”



Wednesday, August 10, 2011

"Navy Showers"

For those of you who have been in the Navy you can fully appreciate this. For those of you who haven’t, here is how it works. On ships where fresh water is a limited resource, it becomes necessary to refine personal hygiene beyond a level taught to youth. The "Navy Shower" is an accepted way to limit water use while maintaining an adequate level of bodily cleanliness. Following rules similar to those for brushing teeth, water is only used when absolutely necessary.
A typical Navy Shower algorithm:
1.Strip.
2.Turn on water.
3.Regardless of whether or not the water has reached desired temperature, wet entire body from toes to scalp.
4.Turn off water.
5.Using soap, shampoo, and other cleansing products, build up an acceptable amount of lather.
6.Turn on water again.
7.Rinse.
8.Turn off water.
9.Do not repeat, as you have already used more than enough water.
Note that this is the polar opposite of a Hollywood Shower and in fact rarely builds a level of psychological reassurance provided by allowing gallons of warm water to pour over one's body. But you've gotta do what you've gotta do. However, those of us who were smart enough to figure it out, the shower curtain hooks made great tools to hold the nozzle buttons on the shower heads down. It became obvious what was happening when the curtains in each stall were being held up by one or two hooks.

Goof Troop

Okay, so you're not gonna believe this SHIT!! Those onboard the MOMSEN at the time of said incidents know exactly who this story's about... as if it wasn’t obvious. However, I’ll withhold the name of the perpetrator in order to protect his sanity and the innocence of those involved. This comes with a few caricatures of this cat as each event unfolded.

First I must explain that I truly believe anyone who takes on the responsibility as a Chief Petty Officer in this 'Great Navy' will be charged to deal with certain individuals that have no gaudamned sense of awareness... This was my charge... In fact, said person had no gaudamn sense at all... I mean really, calling him stupid would have been an insult to stupid people!!! I don't even have a CLUE.. as to what he was doing in this Canoe Club let alone in the Tomahawk World. This guy was the bane of my existence from the time he set foot onboard... He was forever adorned with the name Goof Troop!

Let me start by say'n I really mean with deep sincerity when I say this guy was the bane of my existence from the time he set a foot onboard... and this ain't a no shitter!! I was called from the Chief's Mess down to Weapons Berthing by one of my first classes just after flight quarters. At first I thought there was some kind'a  issue that my guys had with the cleaning bill and needed help to figure it out. As soon as I get down there the first class pulls me aside and says to me,

"Chief, I don't want you to be alarmed but we just got this new guy in and he might have some issues."

Of course I told him,

“I don't believe it's anything we can't handle. After all we're Firecontrolmen... He can't be that bad.”

So my First Class escorts me to the new sailor's rack as he's dressing into his coveralls. The first thing that pops out of this guys mouth,

"Chief, do you know when our first liberty port is, cause I'm gonna get F#####@ked UP!!"

I said,

"Excuse me shipmate? Are you really gonna tell me this as you just met me for the first time?"

Then he proceeded to apologize as he had a long flight and just separated from his wife prior to flying out. I'm a pretty understandable fella... after all we were in the middle of deployment... But from that point on, I figured this guys gonna need some fine tuning. Come to find out he was a Deck Seaman on his previous ship and had been to Skippy's Mast twice for dereliction of duty. He was book smart but hadn't a lick a' gaudamned sense. I guess that's putt'n it mildly. I think he was eating paint chips when he worked for the boatswains.

Well I figure ol' Goof Troop had been onboard a total of two or three weeks and was set to stand watch in the Tomahawk Equipment Room (T.E.R.)... We had a three section rotation of my most junior watch standers just incase we needed the equipment operational for mission readiness. Goof Troop had been qualified no more than two or three days. One night I had just been relieved from watch out of Combat at midnight... hit my rack... and was just deep enough asleep to get a few good winks when I'm abruptly awakened by my Ensign.

"Hey Chief we got a problem and I need your help!"

So of course I asked the Ensign what the hell is so damn important that it couldn't wait until morning.

Apparently Goof Troop had zeroed out the electronic combo lock to the (T.E.R.) so no one could walk in on him. It seems that he had needed to use the head... that's restroom for you landlubbers... and shut the door on himself not realizing that he forgot to reenter the combo into the system. Now the gaudamned combo to the locking mechanism had no combination from this point on. The only way in was to pry the door open. For those of you not familiar with the (T.E.R.) this room is a Top Secret space that is in essence a vault. At 0100 in the morning and no gaudamned answeres for breaking and entering a gaudamned secret vault... we had to wake up the Captain and explain why the door was zeroed out... Then we had to have the Hull Techies come down and pry the door loose! This was not an easy task and managed to bring on a bit of unwanted attention. The most obvious question was why this guy locked himself into the space in the first place and be so boneheaded as to lock himself out!?!?!?  The answer was exceedingly apparent when the door was finally pry'd open only to find the porno movie still roll'n with a bag of popcorn and a blanket on deck. I myself was embarrassed not to mention Goof Troop’s flustered appearance. Can you imagine the Captain’s annoyance as it appeared we had fallen out of his grace?

At this point I rotated Goof Troop up into Combat to stand watch as a Database Manager on the Global Command & Control (GCCS-M) unit. This was a really easy watch to stand updating the database once every five minutes at the push of a button. I tell you, if ignorance was a disability, this guy would get a full pension. He just wouldn't get it. I cannot tell you how many times we had to berate him for falling asleep on watch or leaving combat without checking out with the watch officer. I would get my ass handed to me regularly for his clueless behavior... By now I think I told him I'd only had one nerve left and he was stomping on it.

So a few more weeks go by and we pull into Hong Kong as a long awaited liberty port. Everyone was anxious to see the town and tie one on I'm sure. But I should've figured I was headed for trouble from the first statement Goof Troop ever made to me. I knew this guy was going to be a hell raiser! Trust me when I say this, I have no problems with drinking, I've been there and done that, but make no bones about it in today's Navy, you've really got to be careful. And make sure you're out with a buddy too! All of this is especially true with all the "PC" going on. To make matters worse, we had recently been versed on the new international law of "Trafficking In Persons." In essence, this law prevents sailors from carousing with ladies of the night in foreign ports such as Hong Kong! Something to do with Sexual Slavery or something like that.

Anyway---

So like I said, we were in Hong Kong, right? The infamous city of Suzy Wong and the Wan Chai Red Light District. I mean, prostitution if not legal is surely readily available. It's like a kid walking in a Candy Store but you tell him he can't have any, right? What more can be said... Goof Troop decides to hang out at this place called Club Venus and buys a couple of girls some drinks. His 'buddy' stays behind at the bar while he goes across the street to one of them pay by the hour hotels you see... So in comes the Command Master Chief(CMC) with one of the other Chiefs and wants to know where this guys buddy is. The CMC wouldn't leave until he shows up then sends them both back to the ship for liberty risk.

The next morning comes along and I'm back onboard the ship only to find out that two of my sailors are going to have a liberty risk board in the Mess. Just before this all happens the CMC calls me into his office and reads me the "riot act" wanting to know what the fuck is going on with my guys. He then decides he not only wants to put these guys on liberty risk but will have them on report for violating international law. I thought to myself... HOLY SHIT!!!  I'll have to write a khaki letter to the 7th Fleet admiral explaining why my guys are the first in the fleet to be charged with this new law.

Well, they say ignorance is bliss! In this case I believe it. Goof Troop was interrogated for about an hour in the Chief's Mess for pandering a prostitute but absolutely insisted that he never paid for it and that she only gave him oral sex! No one in the room believed it and he was still sent to Captains Mast for Pandering a Prostitute, Trafficking In Persons, Sodomy, Adultery since he was still technically married, and Disobeying a Direct Order! I argued in his behalf to no avail. However, when the time came to face the Captain, Goof Troop stuck to his guns and insisted that he never paid for sex. The Captain only got him for Sodomy and Disobeying a Direct Order for leaving his buddy unattended. Never in my career had I actually seen a guy found guilty of sodomy at Skippy's Mast.

When it was all said and done I asked Goof Troop how the hell did he manage to get oral sex without paying for it. He tells me that while getting the blow job her cell phone rang and it was her friend at the bar that was with his buddy. She told them he was in big trouble and had to hurry up and get back or else! He never had the chance to pay her as he was wisked off to the ship by Master Chief, sooo really.... he wasn't lying. And that... my friends is a ...Noooooooo Shitter!!


Until this point I’d always wondered why Chiefs bang their noggins up against steel bulkheads!!! Now the truth is out!!!........But, it's guys like this you gotta love!!



In Nautical Knots!!!

Well I suppose it’s a good time for another short whore story, I mean horror story from the Good ol’days on board USS Rainier. This one is upon request from Gray Hickey as he likes to reminisce about his Don Juan days of philandering with loose tails in his amorous escapades overseas! Sounds like a typical sailor…….well you’re probably right in that assessment!

You see there was this guy, some know as Keith, I’ll keep his last name out of this. He was an FC1 at the time with a walrus mustache so that should explain a lot for those readily familiar with this story. Anyway, Keith was kind of an odd ball, but a funny guy never the less. Keith liked to chase after what he called LBFMs, or Little Brown Fucking Machines, anytime we were away from our homeport. You see he was married to a Filipina and had a craze for Asian women in general! He could never get enough of them. Even though he was married, he regularly subscribed to Cherry Blossoms, a mail order bride magazine, to meet young singles from foreign countries. He even got a few other hopelessly desperate individuals hooked on this idea. One sorry sap in particular was caught mailing as many as five or six letters weekly.

Here is where I come into the story. I always had a thing for flipp’n Keith some shit!! I was good at this… He was a fun loving guy and always took things rather well. On various occasions I would come off watch while underway, pull Keith’s Emergency Escape Breathing Device (EEBD) from his rack and replace it with a wined up alarm clock set for some crazy ass early morning hour. Keith would lie down in his rack only to be abruptly awoken and stumble around four to five minutes wandering what the hell was going on! I think I pulled that stunt about three or four times and it never got old. Then there was the time in Cabo San Lucas!! We were all at the infamous CABO WABO flipping him more shit for flirting with the barmaid. We got the bouncer in on the whole gig but unfortunately Shore Patrol came in and got involved as they were not a part of said joke. They hauled his ass back to the ship kick’n and scream’n. Unfortunately the CO did not take kindly to this act and banned all of ship’s company from this establishment for the rest of liberty….sorry guys, that was my bad!!! Though I think we shared a few margaritas hanging out there after the fact…LOL

Getting back to the story line!! I believe it was Hong Kong…..yes it was. Keith met this young China girl in the Wan Chai District. Yes that’s the infamous Suzie Wong Red Light District for all you novices. He took her back to a hotel room to have his way with her and had the balls to actually take pictures in the act. Now for whatever reason, a guy like Keith would take pictures only to explain his insecure need to vilify his manhood to all shipmates back on the boat. I mean the guy was married for Christ Sakes!! Soo…….. there I was sitting at my rack and looking over at a set of photos, in duplicate I might add, he left scattered across his rack while he left the berthing compartment. You can only imagine the mischief I had running through my neurons of naughtiness…..he,he,ha,ha!!!!

Keith eventually came back to berthing only to find a few pictures of his indiscretions missing. Where they went, I’ll never tell! Myself and a couple of accomplices had him sweating for weeks on end as said photos mysteriously reappeared on his rack just before returning home. He was an utter wreck….we continued to call him “Shipwreck” until the day he left for shore duty. That guy was a riot…..LMAO!!

A few years later I ran into Keith as he was Recruiting out of Aberdeen, Washington. Sorry Sap couldn’t sell the Navy to save his life…felt kind of sorry for the ol’ Shipwreck. But, he ended up divorcing his wife never the less as she was caught cheating on him with another shipmate. I guess it’s true what they say, “What comes around goes around!” I just wander if he ever gave her the gift that keeps on giving!! LOL….


"Terms of Endearment"



In the Navy we have our own distinctive lingo to identify with the world around us. A floor is no longer a floor but a deck. A wall is no longer a wall but a bulkhead, …etc. We also use certain terms of endearment to describe our fellow shipmates. “Shitbird” is one that particularly comes to mind! You see, a shitbird is a sailor whose performance is lacking and is generally a long term problem for his shipmates. Down and dirty, “He’s a screwup”!!!

Now I’ve been in this great Navy for a number of years and one thing I can say with out hesitation is on every ship, in every department, inside every division and usually within most work centers there is always that one shitbird!! Starting with the Bagley, there was Morrison. On the Rainier we had a few but “Big Nosed Henry” probably topped them all, and on the MOMSEN, of course there was “Goof Troop”. Then there was Driver on the Chucky “V”. It’s not surprising that this term was invented by a bunch of squids. I’ve accounted for a couple of shitbirds in some of my previous tales however, I’m going to discuss the shortcomings of one shitbird in particular in this little yarn.

I wrote a snippet about three months ago on this guy but it never got saved to my notes so I’m going to drag it out a bit as to leave no stone unturned. FC3 Driver was his name and the ship was the good ol’ Chucky “V” between 1992-94!

I was on the Carl Vinson for a couple of years when Driver checked onboard and I needed an extra hand in my CIWS Mount as I was the only man designated in Mount 21. He had a wrinkled shirt half tucked and his boots needed a good shine. From the get-go it was obvious that Driver was a turd that needed some polishing but I’m not a Boatswain’s Mate and Firecontrolmen usually aren’t in the habit of creating shinola from shit. In this rate either you’ve got what it takes or you don’t. Driver was in the backseat with his blinders on, hence the rhetoric insite on the pun Driver…..if you know what I mean.

Carrying on…..Shortly after reporting aboard, Driver was recounting the infinite details of his childhood and how he had been sheltered by his momma. When he got to the ship in Alameda, California he was living in his truck’s camper shell in the fleet parking lot. When asked why he didn’t live onboard he just exclaimed he needed the extra privacy. Well that’s kinda understandable but seems more inconvenient than it’s worth.

As if it wasn't comical enough,to which I might add I did not find funny at the time, Driver’s first job in the CIWS mount was to check the water level of the transmitter coolant system. He was to open the fill port and let the reservoir level drop to find how much coolant or glycol he needed to add. Now anyone with good sense would figure to screw the fill port lid back on when finished… but not Driver, no he just turns the system on and watches in bewilderment as the cascade of coolant water sprays allover the inside of the barbette making a nasty mess! I don’t know if anyone of you has ever had to clean up a glycol mess before, but it’s a sticky sweet smelly goo (basically antifreeze) that gets everywhere and the common rag just doesn’t do the job to clean it up!

Then was the time when Driver was tasked to clean out a duplex strainer to the primary coolant loop in CIWS. This is a salt water strainer that basically has two strainer baskets so one can be used while the other is cleaned.…never really worked out that way. We always had to secure the saltwater to prevent leak by….but not Driver, though we trained him on several occasions he still took it upon himself to test this theory. He ended up flooding the whole damn CIWS Mount knee high in salt water ruining several pieces of gear including the diagnostic computer to the CIWS Control Panel…I’m using lamens terms for you civilians out there….Later he stated he just wanted to work the strainer the way it was intended to work though we’d warned him on various occasions this would fail! Knuckle head just wouldn't listen.

Now as if that wasn't enough, there was an issue with CIWS Mount 21 while I was on leave that caused the whole Search Array assembly plus the Radome on top to get replaced. For those who don’t understand what CIWS is, imaging R2D2 with a gatling gun erection….the radome on top as his head!! But getting back to the story….when I came back off leave my LPO and I were climbing up to tweak the antenna a bit. As we opened the Radome we handed it to Driver down below….now the radome is not made of a very durable material, it’s somewhat like a double ply’d egg shell. Driver gets a hold of this thing and drops it upside down on the deck…..there was a half dollar sized indention in the very top center of the radome we had just replaced thanks to this shitbird….

So one day as if this guy couldn’t be trusted to handle the most menial tasks on CIWS, Driver was left to do the weekly inventory of all hazmat we had in our hazardous material locker. Well, you’d think he couldn’t screw this up, right? Think again my friends….he had come across some needle gun lubricant bottles that were unmarked inside the locker. So he asks me, “What are these bottles and how do I inventory them?” So I told him they were PU-55-Y Lube oils and ID-10-T grease. Figuring on this guy having enough sense to put two and two together I walked off and didn’t think much of it…but a week later our Chief comes in to do a spotcheck on the Hazmat inventory from the previous week.

“Who the FUCK wrote 'Pussy Lube' and 'Idiot Grease' in my Hazmat locker?”

Yeah, I got my ass handed to me, but looking back it was well worth it. It’s crazy how he would often do things not knowing how much he screwed up but again generally screwing me over. After that little scenario he was transferred out of CIWS and placed in a gopher division where he could do no harm to any weapons systems onboard. This guy was a real 'soup sandwich' and about as useless as a screen door on a submarine... so he unquestionably held the dubious distinction of the 'SHITBIRD'!!!!





“Crank’n”


In the Navy, on top of the job you enlisted for, you're also expected to be a firefighter... janitor... and food service attendant among many other things. For the first couple of years you're in the indentured servant program. You’ll get paid but it’s pennies on the dollar and you’ll be left to do most of the shit work that no one else is gonna do. But that was to be expected when I joined back in 1987.

There I was on the USS Bagley FF 1069... a tin can as most frigates and destroyers are so affectionately referred too and barely large enough too fit the 280 sailors who called it home. When I got to the ship I was introduced to the job so warmly dubbed as 'crank’n.' Ahhh yes, mess crank’n... before the Politically Correct Left Wing Circus took over and changed it to Food Service Attendant (FSA). Nearly every junior enlisted gets there hand in at least one three month tour working sixteen long hour days starting bright and early to the smell of cook’n grease at 0530 wearing those prestigious serving hats! I should have considered myself lucky as I only had to do 72 days... Thanks to FC3 Morrison and his unsightly acne that kept his filthy ass from working around any food.

There were many jobs you could be assigned to while Crank’n... usually the first job everyone got assigned was refilling the condiments on each table... taking out trash... refilling juice machines... and constantly wiping down tables. I hated that job as I was always called upon to be a damn gopher…gopher this, gopher that..etc!! But you didn’t want to work in the Deep Sink... guys would get 2nd degree burns from the water and serious cuts from all the gaudamned sharpies!!! Then there was the wardroom where some typical jackass officer would always leave his shit mess on the table and bitch about his food touching on his plate or some other stupid shit. Most of those assholes got a pube or two in there chow on a daily basis. But I think the most prized job of all was the Chief’s Mess as they always payed a handsome dowry for your worthiness, however I was never fortunate enough to be ordained with such esteem...

Nope, for me I was introduced to bang’n trays in 120˚ temps at 100% humidity!!! Yes, that was the good ol’ scullery... where Igor the Dragon would conveyor all the dirty dishes through a soap and rinse cycle to be rushed back out to the mess decks for another gaudamn group of dirty 'Crackerjacks' to mak’em dirty again. But I gotta say I actually enjoyed this job more than the rest. I didn't have to deal with people, and so long as I kept up with the dirty trays and silverware, I didn't get any complaints. Well, there was the exception of the scullery tray window directly across from the Chief’s Mess door. Every time there was a dirty tray left on the lip of the window and the ship took a roll, the door would get a nasty muddle of food flying in its direction. Oh, I tried in vein to keep this from happening, even putting a sign over the window to please put trays over the lip. There was this EW1... 'yelled at him to put his tray inside the lip, so he chucks the damned tray at me! That got my ass in a tail spin... Noth'n worse than being in a losing situation, even if I could have kicked his ass, I would’ve been explaining to the Skipper why I struck a First Class Petty Officer. But I left it alone. Something I had to learn to do quite often growing up in the ranks.

I had the fortunate task of Crank’n while we were on deployment. Yes, it was Westpac 89-90, my first skip across the Pacific Pond. The nice thing about pulling in port for a few days was that I only had to work in the galley every other day. This left plenty of room for some liberty time. Specifically while we were in the P.I. or Philippines for all you land lubbers! The freak’n place was an adult Disney World, but I’ll leave that for another story!! I remember coming in at 0200-0300 in the morning filled to the hilt with San Migoo (San Miguel), Mojo, and Bullfrog just to catch a couple of winks before my drunk ass had to serve chow for the next work day! This was a common occurrence as a Fireman I once worked with was passed out under the dragon with the dry heaves well into the breakfast meal on a certain occasion. I was covering his ass while our Filipino MSCS, Senior Chief Angeles was out on the prowl looking for our drunk asses. I think he got a joy out of watching us suffer in his home port. He knew how us American boys were over there and this was his chance to make asses out of us.

“You pucking mudder puckers better get to work, Sheeet!” I pucking better not catch you pucking off!” I’ll pucking hab your asses!”

Yes this was the typical ranting of Senior Chief Angeles at least two or three times a day. I don’t think I ever saw this guy smile. During the day we use to have the local stevedores come aboard with all of our dry goods and produce. These guys would form a line all the way from the brow to the refer decks passing the goods down below. Senior would always give them handouts along the way. I remember our Mess Deck Master at Arms, FC1 Hodges would get soooooo pissed about this and he’d chase them out of the mess decks. One day Senior Angeles confronted FC1 about terrorizing his stevedores’!

“Why you pucking gib these guys hard time? You leave them alone. They work for me!”

This pissed FC1 off as he replied,

“I don’t need you as Ali Babba and the Forty Thievedores trampling through the mess decks and stealing all our food!”

Oh man! I laughed my ass off for days! That was one of the best comeback moments I’d ever witnessed. The funny thing was, it put Senior in his place. He never came at FC1 like that again the rest of his tour!!

And they say the Filipino Mafia doesn’t exist! LOL!!!