Found in an un-named SWO forum: Why it’s better to work at MacDonald’s than on a Sub:

1) No McORSE
2) If you have to take a piss, you can go take a piss. No questions asked.
3) You’ll never have to go port and starboard on the fryer.
4) Better pay.
5) The sun.
6) Air.
7) The boxes of food at McDonald’s aren’t stamped “Rejected by Hardee’s” or “Not fit for human consumption”.
Cool The ability to call in sick.
9) The ability to quit.
10) McDonald’s doesn’t get their uniforms from the same company as the state penitentiary.
11) McDonald’s doesn’t deploy.
12) They have actual janitors.
13) No McDrills.
14) The grill breaks, you CALL someone to fix it.
15) At least your boss accepts that he’s a clown.
16) No McResin Discharge.
17) No all night hydro on the fryer.
18) Cool One word: overtime.
19) Every day is slider day!
20) At McDonald’s, you will never, EVER, worry about being put in prison for ten years because you told your wife what the secret sauce is.
21) They pay you for training.
22) You’ll never die a horrible, excruciating death from the crush depth implosion of a McDonald’s.
23) No steam piping.
24) No time at McDonald’s will you hear your boss give a thirty minute dissertation over the P.A. on the importance of being at the register 15 minutes early.
25) They won’t ask you about Taco Bell operations on the advancement test.
26) You get to leave work EVERY day at the end.
27) McDonald’s will eventually fire the really stupid employees.
28) Cool Two words: Happy Meals.
29) McDonald’s doesn’t look like a big black turd.
30) Grimace doesn’t do Vulcan Death Watches.
31) McDonald’s has a slide out back.
32) To do something at McDonald’s, you look at the color coded chart, not OP umpty-squat, chapter whatever, reference 3, ACN B, rev 17.
33) If McDonald’s catches fire, you LEAVE.
34) No McSmall Valve Maintenance.
35) No McCOB.
36) Leaving McDonald’s in an emergency doesn’t require a steinke hood and a lot of praying.
37) The coffee’s better.
38) Cool Someone else makes the water.
39) You don’t have to live there to work there.
40) The only cones come from the ice cream machine.
41) McDonald’s doesn’t go into dry-dock. (again and again)
42) ALL the tests are multiple choice.
43) Their TV commercials are a lot cooler.
44) Three words: Sea Foam Green.
45) Stock in McDonald’s is worth something. The Navy is a part of an operation that is 6 trillion dollars in the hole.
46) Special sauce isn’t “hand made”.
47) No McBilges to clean.
48) Cool Opening for business doesn’t require a full day of preparations and everyone to show up for a brief at 0230.
49) Three words: Stupid ass hats.
50) Personnel inspection requirements are written on the door. (No shirt, no shoes, no service)
51) At McDonald’s, dislocating your shoulder is not considered getting the good deal.
52) McDonald’s never had an accident that cause a person to be stuck to the ceiling impaled on a french fry. (i.e.. No Mc-SL1)
53) Because you deserve a break today.
54) Even the little Hamburglar is cooler than a goat.
55) Mayor McCheese doesn’t wield a righteous thumb of indignation.
56) You can choose which McDonald’s you want to work at.
57) If you want to buy your boss a beer, that’s okay.
58) Cool If you want to tell your boss to screw off, that’s okay too.
59) There is no Uniform Code of McDonald’s Justice to deal with.
60) The news comes from USA Today, not Ric Crawford, GS-12.
61) No one will rack you out at 0200 in the morning to start the grill.
62) Chances of you getting called back after you get off work are pretty darn slim.
63) Putting the pickle on the hamburger doesn’t require an QA-34 and a signature to be used against you in a court of law, should they want you.
64) The only guy in a silly yellow suit is Ronald.
65) How many McDonald’s were sunk in W.W.II?
66) Fixing the register doesn’t require a rubber room and a rope man.
67) Nothing on the menu contains the phrases, “Horse cock” or “baboon ass”.
68) Cool At McDonald’s, the riders would have to leave at closing time.
69) $2.99 is a meal price, not a daily wage at McDonald’s.
70) You don’t have to go single register operations if someone spills a Coke.
71) McDonald’s doesn’t require a 24 hour Shutdown Register Operator and McRoving Watch.
72) McDonald’s doesn’t call your house at 0530 in the morning blaring some awful antiquated song about a bugler just to wake you up.
73) No McRadcon.
74) At McDonald’s, your boss will never make you drive him around for two and a half months so he can spy on Wendy’s.
75) You will never be locked in for 24 hours pretending to operate everything. (i.e. no McFastcruise)
75.5) You don’t have to come in to work at 0700 only to wait around for an hour waiting for your boss to tell you things you already know.
76) At McDonald’s you will never hear, “Shake machine troubleshooting team, and all off watch drink makers, lay aft.”
77) No McGMT.
78) Cool At McDonald’s you don’t have to route a 1250 for a new stack of cups.
79) If you burn a hamburger they won’t take away half a month’s pay for two months and restrict you to the playground.
80) Knowledge of the material of construction and variable operating characteristics of the grill are not prerequisites for operation.
81) You don’t have to take apart the shake machine once a quarter just because.
82) You don’t have to share your bed with two coworkers.
83) You don’t have to shave off your goatee when the district manager comes.
84) At McDonald’s, when the toilet clogs, you don’t rig pressurized air to the head.
85) You don’t have to shut everything off and call in the last shift to start the grill.
86) Early in the morning, you don’t cycle the drink machine on and off just for practice.
87) You scrub the floors because it’s dirty, not because it’s Wednesday.
88) Cool There is almost always plenty of parking. If not, drive through.
89) Don’t like what you got? Take it back.
90) You don’t have to take a turbidity prior to putting a new catsup dispenser on service.
91) Failure of the warming oven door to open is not a panic causing event. It will also not preclude you from starting another fryer or pulling the fries out of the vat due to interlock.
92) No Mc-HPACs.
93) No one hates it so bad they refer to it simply as “The Mac”.
94) No 16 hour days at McDonald’s prototype making burgers in the middle of the desert for no one.
95) If you wipe up a ketchup spill at McDonald’s, you don’t have to let it dry before you throw it away.
96) They won’t secure one of the register operators to keep track of the people going into Burger King.
97) You don’t have to have permission from the Manager, Assistant Manager, and Register Operator before going into the freezer.
98) Cool At McDonald’s, the toilet paper stays in the bathroom, not on the dinner table.
99) You don’t have to completely undress to pinch a loaf.
100) ALL of the articles of the Constitution apply to you at McDonald’s.

Other fine maritime issues reading (in case you missed it yesterday): Wake Island, 1941 at Eagle Speak and (in case you missed it today): Maritime Monday 90 at Fred Fry International.
—————————————————————-
His name was James Richard Ward. A Seaman First Class aboard the USS OKLAHOMA (BB-37) on the morning of Dec 7th, 1941.

Born in Sept 10th, 1921, he enlisted in the Navy in Cincinnati, OH in Nov, 1940. On that fateful day, Seaman Ward had manned his assigned station in one of the 14″ gun turrets. He was, by derivation, a crew member of one of the main guns, as the secondary battery guns are properly called “mounts,” with the title of “turret” being reserved for the large naval guns mounted on battle ships and large cruisers.From the Wikipedia entry:

She was based at Pearl Harbor from 6 December 1940 for patrols and exercises, and was moored in Battleship Row on 7 December 1941, when the Japanese attacked. Outboard alongside USS Maryland, Oklahoma took three torpedo hits almost immediately after the first Japanese bombs fell. As she began to capsize, two more torpedoes struck home, and her men were strafed as they abandoned ship. Within 20 minutes after the attack began, she had rolled over until halted by her masts touching bottom, her starboard side above water, and a part of her keel clear.

Many of her crew, however, remained in the fight, clambering aboard Maryland to help serve her anti-aircraft batteries. Twenty officers and 395 enlisted men were killed or missing.
[…]

James Ward was one of the men who perished when the ship capsized, but he did so ensuring his shipmates had a fighting chance of surviving. The citation for his Medal of Honor tells the story:

For conspicuous devotion to duty, extraordinary courage and complete disregard of his life, above and beyond the call of duty, during the attack on the Fleet in Pearl Harbor by Japanese forces on 7 December 1941. When it was seen that the U.S.S. Oklahoma was going to capsize and the order was given to abandon ship, Ward remained in a turret holding a flashlight so the remainder of the turret crew could see to escape, thereby sacrificing his own life.

A life defined in 20 minutes and he could have scrambled for the hatch and safety, too, but he didn’t. The USS OKLAHOMA suffered the second highest casualty count of any unit at Pearl Harbor.

In honor of Seaman First Class J. Richard Ward, the USS J RICHARD WARD (DE-243), a unit of the EDSALL Class DEs, was commissioned on July 5th, 1943, LT T. S. Dunstan commanding. By September, she had completed her training and was running convoy escort operations between the US East Coast and Europe. The war in Europe ended and she was modernized for duty in the Pacific Theater. Sailing from New York on June 28th, 1945, she was enroute Pearl Harbor when the Japanese surrendered.On June 13th, 1946, the USS J RICHARD WARD was decommissioned and placed in the Reserve Fleet.The Class of EDSALL DEs is memorialized at the USS SLATER (DE-766) museum in Albany, NY. The SLATER is the last DE of the class still in existence.
In doing some of this research, I also found the Destroyer Escort Sailors Association (DESA) website. If you are one, you can join up as a sustaining member to help keep the history records alive. Lots of resoruces there for the history of these small, but important ships, to include some “life aboard DEs” section, and then there are the “sea stories,” including one by Ernie Pyle riding on a DE during the war:

In the Western Pacific — So now I’m a D-E sailor. Full-fledged one. Drenched from head to foot with salt water. Sleep with a leg crooked around your rack so you won’t fall out. Put wet bread under your dinner tray to keep it from sliding. Even got my Jesus-shoes ordered.

And you don’t know what a D-E sailor is? You don’t know the D-E Navy? Better not let one of them hear you say that. They’re 50,000 strong out here. And they pride themselves on their rough life at sea. So better be careful.

A D-E, my friends, is a destroyer-escort. It’s a ship, long and narrow and sleek, along the lines of a destroyer. But it’s much smaller. It’s a baby destroyer. It’s the American version of the British corvette.

It is the answer to the problems of colossal amounts of convoying; amounts so huge that we simply hadn’t the time to build full-fledged destroyers to escort them all. The D-E was the result. It is a wartime product, and it has done very valiantly.
[…]

Many other interesting bits of history are listed on the DESA site.

Ropeyarn was not passed on the virtual 1MC until the working party got wrapped up….

“Sea Story?”

Not a very exciting one, but a slice of life for sea going sailors, nonetheless.

Parking. Yes, a mundane part of life, but, back in the day, when the giant Soviet Union commanded most of our professional focus, and that of the nation’s leaders, we were headed for a 600 ship Navy. So, figure 600 hundred ship have sailors, and chiefs and officers. And some of these actually drove to work while the ships were pierside, the plant secured and shore services providing the “hotel services” needed to keep operating.

At all of the naval stations I was stationed at, the parking “scheme” was: Officer (blue sticker) parking up front, with Chief Petty Officer parking next, and then the enlisted/general parking. The game rules were:

Park where your sticker allowed, or get a ticket from Base Security.

If you were an officer, you had two places to park, Officer and Enlisted.

If you were a CPO, you had two places to park, CPO and Enlisted.

If you had a red sticker of the enlisted ranks, or were a visitor or civil servant, you had one place to park.

Makes sense. The modification to the rule was officers couldn’t park in CPO parking. That wasn’t as big an issue on regular days, but, when special occasions arose, such as changes of command, or ship arrivals (from deployment), the up front, closest to the ships parking was usually roped off for those the special occasion was being held for. The closet parking was, with minor exception, the Officer lots.

Arriving at work, to find cones/barricades/tape up, and usually a roving enlisted watch preventing you from parking in the officer’s lot, then you couldn’t “fall back” to the CPO lots. You had to go sharking for a spot in the general/enlisted lot. Somehow, it just didn’t make much sense, but it was what it was, because a large percentage of the Base Security force happened to be retired chief petty officers. The “club members” took care of the current up and coming retirees, who had made it through the process of the CPO Initiations.

That was one bite in the butt, and I survived, but another situation seemed to be rather prevalent, and, in a conspiratorial sense, linked to the issue brought up in the paragraph above:

On normal days at the pier, you might arrive and find all of the officer spots taken, or darn few left. While transiting from the vehicle to the pier between the cars, it became apparent there was a number of cars sporting red base stickers, not blue. Now, when turning and glancing at the vicinity of the CPO lot, you’d most likely see a ticket or two under windshield wipers for those brazen E-6 and below who dared to venture onto the hallowed ground, yet a dearth of same on offenders taking spaces from the arriving officers. Something about the Base Security force being largely comprised of retired CPOs….

It was what it was, but on some days, when the work before Officer’s Call was a large task, the frustration sometimes emerged in a vocal sense.

I did, having arrived at a reasonable Oh, Dark Thirty, time, before sunrise one fine Navy day, find the spot in the front row of the Officer’s lot, that had had a portable sign at the head of the spot, in accordance with the NAVSTA SOPA regulations, saying “CHENG, DD979,” laying face down on the ground and a car with a red sticker occupying the spot I was allowed. I drove around and found a spot in the way away at the back end of the Enlisted lot, then hiked, before the sun rose, to the ship at the D&S piers. I let the XO know this was unsat, and he looked at me and said something like: “Well, my spot wasn’t taken.” Note: SOPA allowed the CO, XO and CMC parking signed to per placed on the pier we were moored at. Not only was it separated from the other parking lots (obviously), there were guards posted (from the ship’s companies of the ships at the pier) who controlled who came on and off the pier, in vehicles or on foot. The XO seemed to have not grasped that fact in the moment.

Anyhow, later that day, I re-expressed my issue, pointing out the Base Security sure had time to ticket non-CPO vehicles, but couldn’t move their donut munching bodies a few tens of yards closer to the water’s edge to police the officer’s lot. I point out it was a matter of laziness, not the inability to patrol, because they had been making sure the CPOs had their lots protected from intrusion, and, on top of that, I got aboard about 20 minutes later, which cut my work time. He made a call.

It wasn’t like I needed the exercise, it’s more I always managed to make a long day longer, but getting there early enough to get a few “hours” of work done (I found out a Navy work hour was really about 10 minutes long, when the crew was aboard and it was “working hours” - when it was not work and not a duty day, I could get an “hours” worth of work done in about 10 minutes).

Now that we have fewer ships, and even with the base consolidations, I know (and saw last year), such turf wars are not as big of an issue, because on a “work day” around the D&S piers on Norfolk, the enlisted lot was only half full. Plenty of parking to go around. I guess I’m only left to wonder if the same retired CPOs are still patrolling the lots….

There is no fee, tariff, or charges to flog your blog here…Open Trackbacks are, like the air you breathe, free.

LCDR Hobbs, at the end of last week, had just finished shredding one overly full of himself Fleet LT, and a fine job she did, merely by directing his attention at the time honored (and higher authority directed) manner in which qualifications were to be documented.

Lunch happened and then the crew of the WAINWRIGHT mustered the Combat Systems Training Team (CSTT) to brief the drills they would run on two sections of the crew. For you readers who might not have had the pleasure of a Combat Systems Assessment (CSA), the drills were run just like the Engineering Casualty Control Training Teams (ECCTT) did in days gone by. My team listened to the setup for the scenarios, the safety checks, and the training objectives. We took notes now, and wouldn’t say anything until the drills were all over and debriefed. Kathy sat in with us, as we listened carefully to all that was said. She tagged along behind me, as I went with the CSTT Leader and found a fairly unobtrusive place near the Tactical Action Officer in the Combat Information Center (CIC). The afternoon drill set was run and copious notes taken, by my team and the CSTT. Evening meal was quickly eaten and the Wardroom set up for the next briefing. We did it all over again, ending the second drill set near 2200. At this point, my team and I split off to have our discussion on how the crews performed, and early comments on the CSTT’s performance.

About an hour later, we and the CSTT, the CO and XO all met in the Wardroom to hear the evaluation of the two drills. CAPT Fahey offered LCDR Hobbs a tour of the Main Spaces (Main engineering spaces) and she accepted, with one of the Engineering Department Officers leading her below to the hot places where the Snipes lived and worked. We went on with the debriefs.

I can’t recall the exact issue, but something hadn’t gone well and “Iron Mike” made it clear he wasn’t going to consider it acceptable. Pretty striking, yet dead on target one way commentary flew for a few minutes, then it was back to work. Kathy returned about an hour later. We were still at it.

Sometime around 0100, she leaned over and whispered “I had no idea this took so long.” IN the grand scheme of things, that had been my point, for her to understand a little extra long smoke break at the office was already comped by the time put in at sea for those who did the CSAs and many of the training evolutions of the rest of the command.

Sometime around 0200, we headed off to get a few hours rack time, with an on the deckplates for the Detect to Engage runs at 0630. She was there, ready to observe on time later that morning. She didn’t just watch, she hung over in “Tracker Ally” with OSCM(SW) Roddy, asking some questions. While she didn’t have all the terminology down, the questions were all thought provoking and more detailed than we ever might have expected.

To wrap this several week “sea story” up, we got to the piers in Norfolk and picked up to head back to the office at NAB Little Creek late in the day. Arriving there about sunset, we had put in about 38 hours from the time we arrived for our boat the prior morning. To my team, it was normal. To LCDR Hobbs, it was an appreciation for the effort of the guys on “shore duty.”

For me: I came to look at the women around me very differently. From then on, I realized hard workers come in all shapes, sizes and genders. So did whiners and complainers. No longer did I just act polite to LCDR Hobbs in the building, I treated her as a professional, like she always had been, before I had managed to accept that premise.

Continued from last week…

The Combat Systems Assessment (CSA) on the USS WAINWRIGHT (CG-28) was going to be different. Since the ship needed some work done in Norfolk, she was sailing a few days early from her homeport of Charleston, SC to conduct her CSA off the coast of Virginia. The plan was for us to ride a small boat out of Naval Amphibious Base, Little Creek, and meet her near one of the main buoys in the approach lane to Hampton Roads.

We met at the pier at Little Creek, on the appointed day, before the sun rose, LCDR Kathy Hobbs included. Our ride into the entrance of Chesapeake Bay that morning was one of the Special Boat Unit boats, so the team of about 15 had plenty of room. Off we went, into the sunrise, across a choppy bay. We (the guys) were keeping an eye on our XO for signs of discomfort, at the least, or plain old sea sickness. None noticed.

We pulled alongside the WAINWRIGHT and they had rigged a Jacob’s Ladder for us to board. It was about a 15 foot climb up the side of the cruiser to the weather deck. Once more, Kathy kept right up with us, not a sign of disapproval for the unusual arrival method, even for us.

Once aboard and when the ship was safely returning to sea, the Captain, CAPT “Iron Mike” Fahey, joined us in the Wardroom to do the obligatory “We’re glad you’re here” speech and introductions. Then it was off to work. My usual first check was to inspect the Personnel Qualification System (PQS). Off I went to the Embarked Commander’s Lounge area, accompanied by a second tour division officer who would present the Ship’s program to me. LCDR Hobbs came along.

I start down the checklist, one which was distributed to the Fleet, carefully researched and referenced to actual published requirements, having done this many, many, and many more times than I could count by now. The young, dedicated LT sitting across the table from me exuded confidence, as he explained the things “seemingly” amiss int he records. He was, well…wrong, but he had figured if he took a “forward leaning” stance in the discussion, it would pass. After a few minutes of questioning and looking over watchbills and service records, LCDR Hobbs asked if she might ask a question. I, thinking this would be greatly entertaining for a shore based officer to get into a program pretty well identified with only the Surface Navy, said something like, “go ahead.”

Right out of the starting blocks, she commenced rapid fire questioning of this LT, quickly reducing him to admitting the bad administration and lack of compliance with the standards set by the various levels of the chain of command. My jaw was on the deck, aghast, not because she had the LT figuratively groveling and begging for mercy, but moreso because she had it all right, which, in my over two years of doing this inspecting job, found it was a rare case that someone had that level of understanding of such a foundational program.

I dismissed the sliced and diced LT after some follow up questions, and then looked at Kathy and asked: “Where did you learn that?” “The PQS Management Guide.” Wow…someone had actually read and understood the process, and, more amazing than that, someone who had almost no requirement to work with that program in a shore duty status.

Her stock went way, way up…

Next week: The grind of Combat Systems Training Team (CSTT) drills.

So, last week, there we sat, we salty sea dogs, the question posed and we all awaited an answer from the “shore based” component that worked in our shore based offices.

I figured I had figuratively placed the DC plug in the gaping hole that was causing figurative water to flood our hull. Feeling quite smug, but for only a very few brief seconds, she responded: “When is the next one (Combat System Assessment)?” Not to be outdone, I said “I’ll let you know.”

She left, the atmosphere was different. We, the guys thought we were gonna chalk one up on the score board and it was, at the moment, a draw, or at the least, undecided.

Russ, my trusty LDO LT was given the task of calling the USS WAINWRIGHT’s (CG-28) XO, who had been his Weapons Officer on his prior ship to see if we could bring along “our XO.” The answer was, sure. Well, minor issue, XO, our XO is a “she.” “No problem, I’ll be off at school so she can use my stateroom.”

Boy…the train was leaving the station at full throttle and here I thought the “girl” would just be quiet and go back her office and make sure our travel arrangements were on track.

Anyhow, a Combat Systems Assessment (CSA) was a 36 some hour trial of a ship, where we usually arrived around 0700-0730 and sat down in the Wardroom to to introductions, lay out the game rules and shake hands. Yes, we were there to help, and yes, they were happy to see us. From there, my team of 12 to 20, depending on how complex the ship’s equipment, went off to review the paperwork for various programs and do some safety checks. During this period, the ship was getting underway, or in some cases, clearing the sea buoy and heading to the “OPAREA.” The ships under DESRON SIX routinely went to sea the day before we arrived to practice, and we’d ride a tug boat out at Oh-Dark Thirty to the vicinity of Ft Sumter to meet them.

In most cases, by the time lunch was wrapped up, we were meeting to listen to the ship’s company Combat Systems Training Team (CSTT) brief the two sets of exercises to be run in the late afternoon and early evening. The first drill set was before evening chow, the second after chow. By about 2200-2300, we were sitting down to listen to the CSTT critique the drills. The purpose here was not to see if the crew passed, as much as to determine if the CSTT was able see mistakes and record them, so they could plan to train to correcting them next later on. If they saw what we saw, then it was a good chance the ship could train into the future.

After we listened to the crew’s debrief, then my team would meet to discuss the day’s events. Provided there were no glitches along the way, like correcting safety issues, of making sure all the equipment was propeorly configured for training, we might get into our assigned vistor “pits” by 0100 or 0200.

At 0600, we usually were on deck, walking around Combat Information Center (CIC) to observe the preparations for the “DTE” (Detect to engage), where a contracted Learjet would fly, pretending a very slow cruise missile (since it couldn’t make .9 Mach) would fly in, while the crew exercised their detection and engagement systems. By late morning, the DTE would be wrapped up, for better of worse, and my team and I would gather to grade the performance. The ship would head towards port. In some cases, we’d manage to get the debrief in before entering port, and other times, we’d do it upon arrival pierside.

Our command’s vehicles would be waiting for us (when in the Norfolk area), and we’d depart, sometimes with good feelings all around, and fortunately not often, to snarls and cold glares. By then, it was usually the end of the work day ashore. The 36 hours was almost straight through.

The team’s normal work schedule? Monday/Tuesday - CSA (as above), Wednesday - Fly somewhere in a Naval Air Logistics Organization (NALO) C-9, Thursday/Friday - Do it again, Friday afternoon, fly to back to NORVA. Next week? Rinse and repeat. If we were doing ship’s in other ports, the NALO pilots and aircrews were happy to haul our butts there, beginning at about 1330 Sunday afternoon.

Oh, yeah…we were on “shore duty.”

Next week: LCDR Hobbs rides the USS WAINWRIGHT (CG-28).

Evidence here.

In the ‘Shoe Navy, we say “back in battery.”

Good to have the master tale spinner back at it…

Load up the comments with trackbacks….if you dare….

I have to admit, I spent most of my time in the Navy insulated from serving with women at sea. Ashore, they were still “GURLS” (General UnRestricted Line officerS), I didn’t look upon them as even Staff Corps types, since we took Supply Officers and docters to sea with us.

As the “economies” of the mid-90s were settling in, my command, the Combat Systems Mobile Training Team was directed to figure out the merge of ourselves and the Fleet Training Unit that essentially did the same thing we did. It made sense and it wasn’t too much of putting round pegs in square holes.

Off we went, us not the top leadership types, to draw and erase on the dry erase board, until we cobbled together the new organization, which would fulfill the missions of the two units.

At CSMTT, we had a few female sailors, both Yeomen, so they handled admin tasks. FTU, on the other hand, hand a number of females, to include, as I recall, two officers…one listed as the XO, the other in charge of the computer stuff.

LCDR Kathy Hobbs was a “mustang” and the XO. Looked good on her GURL record, being the #1 and all, but we had 5 O-5s as department heads, and a 6th as the Assistant OIC. The discussion went to how to put Kathy in a billet title that wouldn’t appear like she got some demotion. We finally decided, in the Combat Systems Training Group organization to put her into the XO job, recognizing she would be the one to handle the macro and micro administration, which, for the massive travelling we did, not small task, yet we would also know, she wasn’t our “Second in Command” in any sense.

The merge happened, the FTU personnel moved into our building and we shuffled about, grudgingly, but because it was the order of the day, we smiled somehow.

I will also admit, I was tersely polite to Kathy when I had to talk to her, but much of my time was spent on the the road/aboard ship, so the interaction didn’t occur often.

Then one day, OSCM(SW) Dave Roddy came to me to tell me he had been out having a cigarette, and LCDR Hobbs had, during her transit between buildings, commented “So this is how my tax dollars are spent!” Dave was, a little miffed. Dave was one of those E-9s you had to tell to go home, and sometimes drag off the ship we were working so we could catch our lift back to home plate. The taxpayer way underpaid Dave Roddy in any case, but Kathy didn’t know that.

Maybe a week of so later, as a few of us were “brainstorming” (no, really, we did it all the time!) in LT Russ Wyckoff’s office (he had a couch his wife told him to get rid of), three of us on the sofa, feet on the edge of Russ’ navy issue metal office desk, were greeted by LCDR Hobbs stopping n the door and saying (you guessed it): “So this is how my tax dollars are being spent!”

I, moving only my head to look her direction said: “LCDR Hobbs, you’re new here. It might be good if you went out on a CSA (Combat Systems Assessment) with us sometime, so you could see what we do. It would help you a lot when you have to answer the questions on the phone when we’re on the road.”

Yes, I was baiting her. The response, without her missing a beat,,,,that will come next Wednesday! Come back then for another installment in this series…

Open trackbacks, anyone?

So, there I was…the afternoon of a day in January, 1979, on the bridge of the USS MILWAUKEE (AOR-2), moored portside to at the NATO fueling pier at Gaeta, Italy. That morning had been the Change of Command, where CAPT Arthur Page, USN, relieved CAPT Cecil Hawkins, USN. Both men aviators, both holding the position because the Navy’s leadership had confidence they would be bigger players in the organization, both men with VA (attack) communities in their past. CAPT Hawkins and A-7 Corsair II guy, CAPT Page an A-6 “bubba.” Both with real time, enemy shooting at you with bad intent experience.

CAPT Hawkins was the kind of man who was all around the ship…out of a genuine curiosity of what made it go, in terms of men, equipment and procedures developed for at-sea logistics delivery. CAPT Page, well, we were still getting a read on him that day, but a strikingly similar method of leading us was emerging.

CAPT Hawkins loved to be involved in the ship handling process. He was out on the bridge wing, looking at the goings on below forward and midships, with an ear towards the phone talkers for news from way back aft. He spoke the desired actions for line handling, tug work and engine speeds/rudder angles, but in the sense of being one of the minds engaged, and open to supporting commentary, especially from the “Black Shoe” XO, CDR Dave Martin, in matters of precision in the seamanship world. It was an easy interaction, with no feeling of oppression by the ultimate authority aboard the vessel. I had been assigned as the Conning Officer for the detail this day. LCDR Mike Hunt, aka “The Grey Fox,” a “mustang” officer, the Ship’s 1st Lieutenant, with a life at sea in the world of the Deck department was the Officer of the Deck.

CAPT Hawkins had been sent ashore with appropriate honors, we ate lunch and were called to our Sea and Anchor Detail stations by the 1MC shortly thereafter. On to the bridge we went, and Mike and I had a plan. We stood on the Bridge Wing and felt the direction of the wind on our face. With tide and current data, we continued the rest of the preparations.

CAPT Page arrived on the Bridge, a stack of messages in his hand. Transiting to the starboard side of the Bridge, he climbed into his chair, looked my direction and asked “What’s the plan?” That question set me back, but only because I was so used to CAPT Hawkins being pretty involved in all such evolutions. Nonetheless, Mike and I briefed the new Skipper with “The Plan.”

As the preparations progressed and it was about time to move, I shifted to the starboard bridge wing, with Mike dutifully monitoring the events and my actions. The time and conditions of readiness and pilot onboard, tugs made up arrvied and we were granted permission by the CO to get underway.

Within seconds of taking in the last line, it was apparent that the effects of the currents and wind had us going the opposite of the movement we had surmised. We were not moving fast, but to the trained eye, the motion was easily recognized…and it would lead to, if not countered, taking us somewhere a 30 foot draft vessel should not be, if all concerned wanted to keep the service record free from letters recording errors of judgment and an accounting of unfunded/unplanned expenditures of taxpayers dollars.

CAPT Page, still in the Pilot House, attentive to the evolution, as, as I would learn, a quite experienced ship handler in his own right, was doing what he did. Different from CAPT Hawkins, but eminently worthwhile, he was being “the head safety observer.”

Mike stood over my shoulder, quietly using his refined “seaman’s eye” to assess the situation, then said: “It is a foolish man who sticks with a plan, just because it is the plan.” Wise words, indeed. We quickly reformulated, he went and briefed “the new guy” and got the nod.

Off we sailed, safely, with no reports other than the routine and expected, into the Med, to continue our support of US and NATO ships plying the seas in defense of the Free World.

Personal lessons learned were at a high water mark, so being “processed” years later, but many being quite memorable that very day.

Put your links to your best (or…well…anything you have) here…The sights at sea are amazing, and some one a few will witness, unless they look for them.

So, you call yourself a sailor, and you don’t believe in “the Green Flash?” Do you consider your fellow mariners who boast of such siting as more (maybe a lot more) or less on the wrong side of sanity for a moment or a lifetime?

Well, I have seen the phenomena, and now, you can know I’m quite sane, if you are an unbeliever, but at least I saw it in person a few times…

The “why/how” is here.

More real sitings captured here.

Facts and fiction about same…

Do you believe me now, shipmates?