"Shared Sea Stories and Quips"

Over the last few years, I’ve gotten a few fresh sea stories or comments from shipmates who read my fantastic blog of bullshit. Here are a few for you to enjoy as we all have stories to tell…

Chuck Engel writes…Back in mid-70s I was stationed aboard the USS AMERICA. We were having hamburgers in the mess decks. I bit into mine and nearly broke a tooth on a piece of buckshot. I took it to the chief cook and showed him. He said he'd tell me how that happened if I really cared to know, and proceeded to tell a story about a cow in a pasture and quail hunters. You get the drift. Anyway, I looked at him and said, So you guys didn't run out of skeet and start shooting hamburger patties off the fantail? He just caught a visual in his mind of that because it's the only time I ever saw him giggle.

 

Onboard The USS John King (DDG-3) The POOW - deciding to play Quick Draw McGraw discharged a round that flew across the pier and struck The USS Seattle (AOE-3). Thankfully one was injured - but ... the Seattle being an AOE had extensive weapon magazines aboard - including some special ones that were configured to carry - well - special weapons. Navy Regs at the time required that any ship so configured - that was involved in an accidental weapons discharge - no matter how minor - had to be reported to a massive list of folks - The one at the Top was some fellow named SECNAV. You can only imagine the fun and games that followed...

 

Sitting in Abu Dhabi parked way back in the lonely piers. One of our numbers came back from an evening imbibing at the Seamans Center. He was somewhat inebriated and started undressing for beddy-bye time. Decided he wanted a smoke first. The only place to smoke was the fantail so still buck ass neckit he headed up with a cigarette in hand. He didn't have a lighter in his birthday suit (or pockets) so he strolls up to the Quarterdeck and asks the POOW "Say, boy, got a light?" He was escorted back to berthing and instructed to hit his rack. The next morning as he has headed to quarters the Old Man passes by, says "Say boy, got a light?" Nothing else was ever said.

 

I was the E-Div Leading Chief on a cruiser… The XO, a rather pompous person because of his Grandfather’s history, was observing a tool checkout. He asked me how we made sure that no unauthorized personal equipment was allowed aboard. I told him “XO, every electrician onboard has a pair of dykes and used them as needed”. 30 minutes later I heard my name on the 1MC with orders to report to the Captain’s import cabin. When I arrived I was greeted by the CHENG and the (rather angry) XO and instructed to “enter and stand tall”. The Captain asked me why I was using gender-negative comments. I asked him what he was referring to and the XO said “You were talking about lesbian women being forced to stand by your electricians”. It took a moment before I realized what he was talking about and then I said “Captain do you know what the trade name for side handle wire cutters is?” He said “Of course Chief, I’m a Mustang electrician myself, we call them dykes!” At that point, the XO turned beet red in embarrassment. The Captain, CHENG, and I all got a good laugh about it, the XO turned tail and left.

 

It's damp, it's dark, it's always really slimy.
If the Top orders so, you'll always come out grimy.
Life sucks, you moan, this is NOT what I signed up for.
This is not the Glory I seek, I'll do my four and no more!
Just who does he think he is, This guy is all crisp and clean,
Tellin' me to clean the bilge, as clean as he's never seen.
Having no choice (and really no place to go),
I grab a flashlight, rags, and bags, and wiggle myself below.
This is a whole new world, this space beneath the deck plate,
a world seen by few, dark and desolate, make's one consider his fate.
There are things down there that, whether real or in the mind,
would break the strongest man, in the shortest amount of time.
Crawling through pipes and always a few inches of whatever,
avoiding hot piping and wondering, "will this last forever"?
Amazing, you think, as you gather what lies,
"How does all this stuff find its way down here?
A Coke can, some 'Hot Pockets' wrappers, check this out! Old McDonald's fries"!
Can be an amazing place, if not creepy and weird, the place you are at,
For until you've found your place as a Snipe,
Baby Snipes starts out as a common Bilge Rat.

(FiN)

"Fun at the USO"

 Rather it was peering at the pretty young hostess or getting blasted three sheets to the wind, the USO would put on some pretty good shows back in the day. Occasionally they would put on a dance to keep the boys happy while on a little R&R. There was nothing like trying to find a way through the back door for some horizontal mambo in the back seat of an ol’ chevy if you know what I mean. I hope you find these toons as amusing as I did…

(FiN)

"Recruiting Ain't No Shore-Duty"

 

Any Seagoing crackerjack worth his salt knows that Recruiting Duty ain’t got nothing to do with Shore Duty. Boy did I find that out the hard way. I thought I’d at least have the weekends to spend time at my kid's soccer games, or coach some little league baseball. Well, I was in for one hell of a surprise.

As a Navy Recruiter fresh out of Pensacola’s finest Recruiting Indoctrination school, I headed to Tulsa, Oklahoma where it was quickly expressed how my wife did not come in my Seabag. Let it be a lesson to you folks… when your Rinc says this, and you try to reach across the desk to give him a good chokehold, you’re probably going to see the psychotherapist. No harm, no foul. The Air Force shrink was on my side once I delivered my story and wrote it off as a part of independent duty. Little did I know, that after telling the Miss's what had happened, she actually emptied one of my old Seabags and stuffed herself inside just to prove a point. To this day she brags about how she fit just fine.

Needless to say, our whole damned crew belonged in an asylum. It seemed like one thing after another and enough to start chain-smoking… When on the bag, as we used to call it, we had to stay clear of young ladies contending as prospects for the underway club. One afternoon, our station’s superstar recruiter asked me if I could do body measurements on one of his prospects trying to lose weight while he went out for an interview. As a good shipmate, I obliged him… Little did I know she was a rather busty young thing. It got even better as she went in the back to get ready for her weigh-in and the measuring tape. She told me she was ready as I walked in and she was down to her pink Fredericks of Hollywood pop-up brazier and g-string ready for me to wrap that ol’ tape around her. This required touching, and a lot of uncomfortable feelings steaming out from my direction. My sweat pumps were on overdrive and I was hot enough to cause global warming to go up another six degrees. I have to say, looking at her was never disagreeable, but it was a bad situation to be in as a married man and no one else in the office in case of the “he-said-she-said” kind of horse manure that gets slung around from time to time. At least she didn’t have half the black forest hanging from her armpits… don’t laugh, they come through the door in droves like that.

Now imagine being an eighteenth-century Pirate with a gaudy parrot that shrieked obscenities every five seconds. As a Navy Recruiter, we were to represent the finest this here Canoe Club had to offer. But that wasn’t always the case. When cold calling young high school prospects, a fella decided to get nasty on the phone for calling his son about enlisting in our fine Navy. He offered to come down to the station and stick my head where the “sun don’t shine” as we got in somewhat of a pissing match over the phone. I called the guy the “Bixby Butthole” beings he was from Bixby, Ok and all. Needless to say, he never showed up, but I got an earful from the Chief.

“Swing, you can’t be talking to people like that! It gives us recruiters a bad name.”

I specifically remember heading off in my Government Jalopy like a bat outta hell, parking in some alley and smoking half a pack of smokes until I was calm enough to get back and do two hours of cold calling “Phone Power.” Those were the days.

Luckily I was smart enough to hang out at some of the college campuses like Tulsa Community College, Oral Roberts University, or Spartan School of Aeronautics to name a few. Recruiting out of these places, you’ve got to play the numbers and be ready for copious amounts of rejection. Some middle-class college kid barely off his momma’s tit would say…

“But the military is fascist and I heard most of you guys are warmongers.”

“Listen ‘Terry,’ you’ve probably been spoon-fed that idea by some middle-aged ex-Vietnam war hippy protestor turned college professor. Next, he’ll probably tell you that we eat babies and are leading some big conspiracy to enslave the world and force them to work for Ford or Boeing or something…”

My observation wasn’t far off the mark. that’s for damned sure. Though needless to say, I put some quality recruits in from the college campuses. I earned Nuclear Recruiter of the Year for NRD Kansas City thanks to those campuses.

Then of course were the ones with major dental or hygiene problems. You could only hope that the freckled kid from Muskogee could make it past medical when he got to MEPS. What about that guy who kept bringing up criminal charges from his past? Those came a dime a dozen. Then there was the kid from the Spartan School of Aeronautics who scored a whopping 26 on his practice ASVAB. I had him come back two weeks later only to take the same test and scored a 10 the second time around… and that ain’t no shit.

In recruiting I'd seen sides of the Navy I never knew had existed. I learned a lot, especially about myself. At times it was organized chaos while at other times it was damned hard work! I was glad to leave it behind and wouldn’t have wished that shit on anybody. I never thought I'd miss the midwatch drinking coffee that could float a brick at 0400 in the morning. I’d rather live with the snipes and smell like bilge piss while going through some bullshit inspection to check some meaningless log on the exact time of colors or what time the Skipper crossed the patio than get stuck recruiting again. At least at sea, I had control of my own destiny. But I went back to the fleet as a fouled anchored, foul-mouthed Chief!

Go figure…   

"The Boiler Tech"

 

Boiler Tech Smith stepped behind the boiler and started pulling his pud when the Chief came around the corner…

“Did you ever stop to think…”

“No Chief! Once I get going, it feels so good I can’t Stop or Think!”

“How to act on Liberty in Port”

 

If you are a good American Sailor you will naturally want to spread the Good Will when you are in a foreign port and make yourself and your country popular with the natives. As they say,

“You are an Ambassador for the United States so act like one.”

Upon hitting the beach, buy funny native hats and always tip them politely, both male and female natives, at the same time giving them a friendly greeting such as “Whad’ya know Joe!” or “Open the door, Richard!” The latter is especially appropriate if the native happens to be sitting in front of his own hut or place of business.

Always carry plenty of liquor and offer it freely to everyone you meet, taking care not to overlook the native women. Don’t be afraid of asking them to drink out of the bottle; they’re used to it… and tip your hostesses well!

Hire tuk-tuk and jeepney vehicles but never sit down in them. Stand up and rock them from side to side as you drink and sing gay songs such as “Working for the Yankee Dollar!” Don’t hesitate to throw empty bottles in the streets; the natives use the glass for quaint jewelry.

When crossing walking bridges over foreign rivers and waterways, be sure to toss in a coin or two to the young native in the bongo boat down below. This is much appreciated by the local population. Be sure to tuck your wallets, watches, and loose jewelry in hard-to-find areas as they find themselves missing at the oddest moments.

When entering a local establishment of drink and dance, be sure to accommodate the “buy me drink” girls as they turn into the most adoring hostesses you will ever meet. Be sure to hook up the “Mamasan” as well as she can knock off a good chunk of the price provided she likes you.

If you find yourself being hauled back to the ship by Shore Patrol with vomit covering your shirt, your fly hanging wide open, and your mouth bloody while missing a few teeth, always lay on your left side while in uniform to hide your rank insignia so they will think you are an officer.

When on duty bringing on stores, you’ll probably find plenty of old oranges and grapefruit lying loose around the messdecks. Don’t be selfish; throw them to the stevedores on the dock along with a carton of smokes and maybe throw in a Zippo for good measure!

(FiN)

"Classified Cover Sheets"

 How many of you remember those cardboard “Classified” coversheets they used to put over those folders to identify “Top Secret,” “Secret,” or “Confidential” material? Here are a few I gathered years ago that you might find entertaining. They got me in some trouble once. I hope you enjoy them…

(FiN)

"More Diddies"

 

A landlubber fresh from the city,

Became an Annapolis Middy.

The girls he’d adore,

When on a firm floor,

But when riding the Waves he got giddy!

The sexiest girl in our crew

Likes to diddle, and doesn’t care who,

So it’s easy to see

How she spreads the VD

To the others and me and you too …

 

And just remember… Girl who fools with Sailor may create Seamen!

(FiN)

"Getting Benched with a Girl in Every Port"

 To many a Sailor, picking up girls is a walk in the park! All you half to do is find yourself a secluded bench and you’re good to go! I hope you all enjoy these cartoon clips of ol’ Romeo the Sailor having his way with a girl in every port…

"Now that we're out of the moonlight, I'd like to ask you something..."

"Yes?"

"Can you move over a bit? I'm sitting on a nail!"

(Fin)

"A Wierd Bird"

An F-14 Tomcat had roared past two crows. One said to the other…

“He’s really going ain’t he?!?”

… to which the other said …

“You would be too if you had two assholes and your guts were on fire!”

 

"February Pin-up"

 Here we have some beauties packing the piece for good measure. I hope you enjoy our February edition of pinups …

(FiN)