" Letters from Home "

 

In today’s world of instant gratification, the norm seems to be immediate reward without any effort. It’s become ever more prevalent with each new generation. They never had to sit and wait while absence let the heart grow fonder.

Now, back in the days before email, cell phones, and social media, we had good ol’ snail mail. That’s right. We had to wait weeks, sometimes months to get a letter from back home. That’s why mail was so important back then. Mail was the lifeline that kept us sailors connected to the folks who didn't make a living floating like a cork in the deep blue sea. Rather it was a letter from Mom & Dad or Cindy, Sue, or Betty-Lou… it didn’t matter. It’s what we were waiting for to see if barnacle-encrusted rapscallions still had any significance in the domesticated world. 

Are there still mail buoy watches? For you landlubbers, the mail buoy watch was usually on the forecastle dressed in kapok with wet gear while diligently holding a shepherd’s hook to catch the buoy as we floated on by. Of course, this was a load of horseshit. A senior band of enlisted gorillas were usually in charge of such functions. But hell, back in the day, we always found ways to harass the new guy onboard. We sent a lot of new guys on fools' errands to keep them on their toes. Standing the mail buoy watch was just one of many.

When Mail Call was passed over the 1MC the Mail Petty Officer passed out mail while making smartass jokes about paternity suits, divorce decrees, or some sort of eviction notice… etc… etc.

“Hey Mack! You got a few official letters here. Looks like the ex-wife is sending out the dogs to collect the loot.”

"Smitty! Ya got a letter from some honey in Olongapo. Says she wants to get married so you can bring her to America and buy her Honda!”

"Hey Joe, is that a letter from your girl back home?"

... Joe would reply ... 

"Is a pig's pussy made of pork?"

Some Sailors got love letters, and some didn’t. We all enjoyed the ones with the perfumed prose and laced panties to tuck under our pillows at night. It was one hell of a way to kick-start a wet dream. Some letters were so saturated in perfume they could make a dead monk horny! And some letters were written as though they had come straight out of a Xaviera Hollander Penthouse editorial.

You had to be careful who you shared your letters with. Some lowlife son-of-a-bitch would be more than willing to read those letters to a full audience…  

“I can’t wait to see you again so you can kiss me passionately as I feel your hand go up my blouse …”

You know the drill. I had a gal who would send mixed tapes of what she considered “our songs” to remember her by. About 80% of the songs were like auditory ipecac. If my ears could vomit they surely would.

Then there were of course the ‘Dear John’ letters. Those inescapable letters would read …

"I know you will understand... The neighbor came over to fix the leaking faucet but fully rooted my plumbing instead. His snake is much more effective than yours. You’ll be receiving the divorce papers in the mail soon. In the meantime, I’ve drained the bank account and maxed out all of the credit cards. I figure you won’t need them while on deployment anyway, so have fun …

Signed,

Your soon-to-be ex-wife!

P.S. I'm sure you will find a Filipina more suited to your unique lifestyle."

But the family members, sweethearts, and other loved ones who faithfully wrote were absolute saints to a young man far away from home for the first time. There was nothing better than a little bit of warm welcomed news coming back from Mayberry Umpty Squat, Ohio. It was the mail that kept us going for so long. Even if we had to wait weeks upon months to receive that letter…

 

 

( Fin )