Daddy

Daddy

By:  John Petersen

 

This is my Daddy’s picture, holding me close, his love in that big smile,

giving me all of his free time, wasn’t a lot, he took an inch and went a mile.

Simple things like playing catch and building living room forts so scary,

flashlights with a dying battery made all things incredibly hairy!

The Sunday off, no matter how tired Daddy would be,

Up at the break of dawn to whip up waffles for Mommy and me!

We’d squeeze everything we needed into the old car we had,

for a trip to the beach or park or even up to visit Grand Mom and Dad.

This picture stays by my nightlight, as I’m afraid of the dark,

knowing Daddy is there lets me sleep through even the dog’s bark.

This is my Daddy’s picture, so big in the living room,

Tall and proud he stands, full uniform, no hint of gloom.

His smile so big, no doubt meant for Mommy and me,

I know from what Mom told me he’s in a place not so friendly.

A place where what she calls the ‘enemy’ desires to, for their beliefs, kill,

to keep in place their ancient beliefs and preserve their will.

Daddy is there to ensure freedom for all, this I’m old enough to know,

And I know he’ll continue to do this, for all the years coming as I continue to grow.

There comes a knock at the door…

The days of crying, remembrances, what memories I will never let go,

the picture by my nightlight, in the living room he defends all foe.

I know my endless tears will never call Daddy back to comfort Mommy and me,

I know that my Daddy stood up for what is right for everyone, you see.

From what I was told, Daddy never even thought of backing away,

he protected his fellow mates as he would Mommy and I any day.

This is my Daddies flag… Above the fireplace mantle, surrounded by other items and such,

yet perfectly centered, lightly dusted yet otherwise untouched.

Of all things also on the mantle, just to the right, for all to see,

is the catcher’s mitt my Dad gave to me.

I refuse to move it, forbid anyone to try and do so,

I caught my first ball with this mitt from my Dad’s mighty throw.

He will always be here for Mommy and I, my prayers have told me so,

Our Guardian Angle, in the living room so big, smiling, and bold.

 

A native of Nebraska, I have lived in Southern California since 1970. I graduated high school in ’81 and went straight into the Navy, Machinist Mate being my trade, all commands I served on were Pacific theater. After 12 years active and 22 years inactive reserve, I now manage a dry ice plant for Airgas.

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Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club

Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club

By:  Garland Davis

TONKIN GULF YACHT CLUB Vector Illustration | AnnTheGran.com

The novel and movie, “Mister Roberts” pictures life aboard a “bucket” that tiresomely traffics between the islands of Tedium and Apathy with side trips to Monotony.

This is my story of a WestPac at the end of the war in Vietnam.  My ship also made those stops at Tedium, Apathy and Monotony. We also frequently visited Exhaustion and Total Exhaustion.

I reported into a Pearl Harbor-based Destroyer of DesRon 11 in early September of 1972 as a CS1. I was to be the leading cook.  The CS2 I was relieving met me and my wife at the airport and carried us to our hotel.  I never saw him again.  He never returned to the ship. UA and eventually listed as a deserter.

I found a fucking mess when I reported aboard.  There were no menus, no records of stores aboard, the chill reefer was full of sour milk and rotting vegetables, the freezer was a shambles, and the dry storerooms looked as if they had been stirred with a stick.  No attempt had been made to load out for WestPac.  The ship was leaving in ten days.

The galley was filthy and crawling with cockroaches. The cooks were cooking and serving whatever they could find.  I went to talk with the Supply Officer and Assistant Supply Officer.  I told them what I had found and what it was going to take to get ready to load stores.  First I had to know what we had aboard before I could order and it was going to take a major evolution to empty and clean the reefers and salvage what I could.  The storerooms would need to be emptied and cleaned and restocked.  Then I could hold and inventory and get an order done.

I was thinking that it was a good thing I had sent my wife to Japan to stay with her family during the cruise.  I would have seen very little of her during the days before we departed for WestPac.

The Supply Officer managed to get me a twenty hand working party of Sea Scouts who were aboard for two weeks.  I worked those boy’s asses off.  Within three days, I was able to get an inventory completed and an order done.  Once I had accountability established and stores coming aboard, I turned my attention to the menu and the galley.  I restricted all the cooks and mess cooks and after supper on Friday evening, we held field day in the Galley, Mess Decks, and Scullery.  I was ready for WestPac two days early.

The morning we departed, two more CS’s and two mess cooks missed movement.  I thought I was to do the entire cruise three cooks and two mess cooks short but a CS1 reported in Subic after a first short stint on the gun line.

About this time the North Vietnamese walked out of the Paris Peace Talks.  This pissed Nixon off.  We were en route to Hong Kong in early December when they turned us around and sent us to the Tonkin Gulf. Until the shooting stopped we were either sitting on station awaiting firing orders, chasing a carrier back and forth while they strove for nineteen over the deck, or ran into Haiphong harbor and shot up the shipping.  With the exception of plane guard, it was shoot all night, rearm and refuel all day and get a little sleep if possible.

Being short of cooks in the galley and I was the only one who knew how to bake, I was working eighteen and twenty hour days overseeing the cooks and mess cooks during the day and baking half the night.

The whole crew walked around like zombies.  A group of PO1’s took over my reefer decks for an evening crap game when possible. I don’t think there was a big winner.  The game probably had five hundred bucks in it.  They could have accomplished as much by making up a watch bill designating who was to hold the money on a particular day.   They got pissed at my CS1 and me because he went down one night and won the money.  He bought money orders and mailed it to his wife the next day.  That pretty much ended the crap games.

We got a few days chasing the carrier.  The tempo of rearming and refueling slowed down and we were able to get a little rest.  A surprise, a CSSN was high lined over from the carrier with orders to us.  Someone in the bureau had forgotten to let us know he was coming.  He was an “A” School graduate and had a little baking experience.  Took a load off me.  Still had to help him, but didn’t have to do it all myself.

I had taken the advancement exams for CSC in February 1971.  I had passed the test and was eligible for promotion, but my advancement had a Bureau Hold placed on it.  I was investigated for cheating on the test.  For over a year before I left North Island, I probably was in the ONI CID offices, at least, three times per week.  Two men in civilian clothes, I later learned that they were both W-3’s, questioned me over and over.

They always started with, “Did you have prior knowledge of the questions on the advancement exam for Chief Commissaryman?”

This is where I let my smart mouth overload my dumbass, I would always answer with, “Yes!”

Of course their next question was, “How did you know what was on the test?”

Every time, I answered, “I studied.”

Now I don’t know how I did on the test.  One of the investigators told me I aced it.  The other said I missed one question.

Now we are on the gun line in February 1973, almost two years after I took the test.  While my advancement was on hold, I was not permitted to take subsequent advancement exams.

It was shortly after supper and I am in the galley with the baker when the bridge passes, “Chief Petty Officer Davis lay to the bridge!” I knew they weren’t talking about me.  I continued on with what I was doing.  The BTC came to the galley door and said, “That’s you Dave, they want you on the bridge.” He handed me a green log book and said, “This will be your charge book.”

The first notation in my charge book was, “Appearing in front of the Commanding Officer in an improper uniform.” Signed Ray Harbrecht, CDR, USN. He also gave me a copy of a message that authorized advancing me to CSC effective May 16, 1971.

The Chiefs scrounged enough uniforms for me to get through a few days until I was high lined to the Ranger where I was able to purchase work khakis and brown shoes.  I filled out my sea bag when we finally got to Subic.

I locked horns with the XO a couple of time over steel beach cookouts.  He was determined that a steel beach was the best way to improve morale on the gun line.  Every time he planned one, something happened to cancel it.  Twice we cooked steaks in the galley instead of on deck.  The third time he planned one, I told him that I was out of steak.  He said order more.  When I tried to explain to him that beef was ordered in units and for every case of steak, you had to take four cases of ground beef, two cases of oven roast, two cases of pot roast, and etc.  He got mad at me and told me he would get the steak.  He ordered eight cases.  We ended up with three pallets of beef and no room to store it.  We transferred it to the carrier along with the steak. The Supply Officer told me that he was telling the Wardroom that I didn’t explain the rudiments of ordering beef to him.

While on the gun line the XO, would walk around the ship between rearming or refueling evolutions and then call the Officers and Chiefs and chew us out because people were sleeping.  He would then have the word passed, “All Hands Turn to, Titivate the Ship!”

The Senior Chief Fire Controlman took a lot of the XO’s wrath off me.  He had Narcolepsy and was retired after we returned to Pearl.  He could fall asleep between spoonsful of soup. The XO would get mad at him for sleeping while he was talking.  He sent him for evaluation in Subic and he was flown to Pearl.  We had a retirement ceremony for him after we returned.  Of course he slept through it.

About the time we arrived in Hawaii, my CS1 learned that he had made CSC and would be frocked to Chief on August 16.  The ship was told to transfer either of us to one of the Tankers homeported in Hawaii.  I had barely started the planning to bring my wife from Japan to Pearl when the Supply Officer told me that the XO was adamant that I be the one to go to the tanker.

I told the Supply Officer, “All you guys are going to do is get inspected right and left and told that you are not ready to fight the war that we just fought. The AO is leaving for WestPac next week. I’ll take WestPac over that bullshit any day.  As a friend of mine said, when the SubPac detailer threatened to send him to a diesel boat home ported in Subic, ‘Master Chief, throw me in that fuckin’ briar patch’”

And that is how I made Chief.  Probably would have made Senior and Master Chief, but I never learned to prevent my smart mouth from putting too much of a load on my dumbass.

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Pictures In My Skin

Pictures In My Skin

By Garland Davis

it was a sailor thing, pictures in the skin

i never went there, tho my shipmates did

thought about it, couldn’t bring myself to it

they plied me with booze, fooled them didn’t go

never saw the benefit, pictures in my skin

now an everybody thing, pictures in the skin

young and foolish, pictures bright and bold

sailors not so much now, to girls a mark of cool

flowers and butterflies, skulls and bones

today i will be cool, with pictures in my skin

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

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Makin’ Wine

Makin’ Wine

By:  David ‘Mac’ McAllister

 

I was an MM2 and the LPO of the after engine room aboard this DLG that was once again drilling holes in the sea on PIRAZ station off the coast of North Vietnam when an idea engaged my alcohol deprived brain. I was going to make some wine.

I had been known to dabble as a vintner with a decent reputation and recipe which was well known for its clarity and alcohol content. My past ventures on other ships had been small, confined to a gallon or so here and there on the sly. However, since espying that 20 gal poly bottle in the shaft alley, used for lube oil storage for the spring bearings, my mind had been going full tilt. Containers and the hiding of same had always presented a problem to the makers of shipboard Hooch; I had that problem under advisement.

As I stepped onto the upper-level deck plates and commenced my walk around prior to relieving the 2000-2400 watch for the mid this night, my eye was caught and held by the canvas bag covered chain falls swinging in rhythm with the rolls of the ship above the LP turbine; perfect for the clandestine concealment of a winery operation. Ingredients in the quantity required for the volume I had in mind would be an added concern. What with mess cooks supplied to the mess deck Master at Arms, this rarely was a problem for small quantities; however, I was going to have to collaborate on some level to pull this off.

Next morning, I approached my shipmate, the LPO of the after fire room. A Texan and no new comer in the finer points of tipping a jug, BT2 was very receptive to my notion and plan for pulling it off. Between our combined efforts and the sticky-fingered behaviors of our mess cooks (one of which was assigned to the Jack of the Dust), the ingredients were soon materializing. Grape juice by the case, sugar by the bag and yeast were finding their way into the after engine house with remarkable regularity.

An operation of this magnitude would require the efforts of all hands, so I solicited and won the support of the MM2 and MM3 that I had placed in charge of the upper and lower levels respectfully. Soon we had the entire after engine room on board with the idea and all hands sworn to secrecy upon pain of death or worse.

Next step was to abduct the 20-gallon poly bottle of lube oil from the shaft alley. Since it was my space that presented a problem; should the Senior Chief note that it was missing, I would have some explaining to do. Luckily, the other shaft ally belonging to the forward engine room had a similar bottle. Easy, I just sent some of my torpedoes to steal it. This served a dual purpose, in addition to filling our purposes the missing bottle diverted attention away from us in the after engine room, noted for our past misdeeds, and threw attention upon the so-called stellar performer in charge of Main Control – brilliant.

Once we had liberated the oil from the bottle and turned to with a steam hose upon the inside it was ready for the mixture. Since my recipe has a current patient pending, I will not divulge it; let it suffice to say that grape juice, sugar, and yeast in appropriate proportions were combined. Next, one of the chain falls above the LP turbine was lowered, stowed and the poly bottle hoisted in its place and covered with the protective canvas bag – perfect concealment. I stood there watching as the bottle swayed in unison with the other chain falls as the ship rolled from side to side; knowing that the heat in the overhead above the turbine would accelerate the fermentation process. I estimated 10 days until sampling. This was going to go down in Hooch maker’s history. As I turned to leave and in passing I mentioned to upper-level MM2, “You did make sure that bottle cap was loose, right?”  “Oh yeah, right!” was his reply

With each passing day, each watch kept an ever mindful eye on the LP turbine and the treasure stowed in the overhead above it. All was well as it swayed to and fro up there cooking away, all the while the forward engine room LPO searched frantically for his missing bottle under the ever securitizing surveillance of the Senior Chief. I was enjoying this on many levels; in fact, I volunteered to provide help with the investigation but was told to mind my own fucking business, which I did with an enthusiasm only I could understand.

In my rack one night, I was awakened quite abruptly by the messenger of the watch saying “Mac you better come down to the engine room.”  Knowing that something was amiss, I jumped out of my tree and into my dungarees. As I slid down the ladder, I was greeted by upper-level MM2. If there is such a thing, a sheepish look of pallid horror was upon his face as he led me over to the purplest LP turbine I had ever seen. Additionally, the overhead and steam piping above it were purple. The most intelligent thing I could say was “What the fuck?” Seems the cap on the bottle was not as loose as we had thought and the well-accelerated fermentation process had exceeded the capacity of it to contain its contents. Now wine is a lot like lube oil, once on the loose a little can look like a lot. Lucky for us, we had been doing some painting the day before and had kept some unauthorized paint in the hole. All hands were assembled on the deck plates that night and as they painted out the overhead, piping and LP turbine, upper-level MM2 and I lowered the culprit bottle. Finding it still ¾ full, we removed the cap to be on the safe side and returned it to its place of honor. Turning the steam hose on the canvas bag and installing it inside out put the sneak back on the operation. By the time the aroma of morning chow started wafting down through the ventilation dissipating the stench of rioting grape juice, all was well with our world. With the entire after engine room crew horsing down morning chow at the same table, Senior Chief on his way to the log room from the CPO mess stopped, scowled at us and said “What? Are you guys all queer now?”

In the end, the wine finished up nicely and was enjoyed by the entire after engine house, the two mess cooks, BT2 and myself. Main Controls LPO never fully recovered and remained perplexed from the loss of his poly bottle, and what’s more, its sudden reappearance. Although he could never prove anything, the Senior Chief remained convinced that the entire after engine room crew was a bunch of criminals – probably all queer.

 

David “Mac” McAllister a native of California, now resides in the Ozark Mountains of Southwest Mo. Having served in Asia for the majority of his 24-year Navy career, he now divides his time as an over the road trucker, volunteer for local veteran repatriation events and as an Asia Sailor Westpac’rs Association board member and reunion coordinator. In his spare time, he enjoys writing about his experiences in Westpac and sharing them online with his Shipmates.

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Dodging Shot Lines

Dodging Shot Lines

By: Garland Davis as told by Kurt Stuvengen

 

While serving in USS Reeves CG-24 as a BT2, BTCS Vernon Bertelson arranged for me to be assigned as topside phone talker at the forward fueling station for underway refueling operations.  This was my station until I made First Class and was then relegated to the pit.

During this period, we usually refueled from one of the Military Sealift Command tankers operating out of Subic Bay, Republic of the Philippines. The tankers Hassayampa, Passumpsic, Misspillion, and Ponchatoula were the Subic based oilers. The civilian crews of these ships were always practical and professional during refueling operations.

We were to refuel from the stateside based USS Kansas City a Navy crewed Oiler and stores ship.  I am convinced to this day that I narrowly missed being injured or possibly killed by sailor from that ship.

When the receiving ship comes alongside a tanker or stores ship, the supply ship normally shoots a messenger line to the receiving ship.  This line is used to pull ever greater lines over until the fueling rig can be connected.  When the word was passed to “Stand by for shot lines fore and aft,” I usually just crouched down behind the fueling sponson.  The MSC ships shot well over the foc’sle and ASROC launcher.

After we came alongside Kansas City and the word was passed, I ducked behind the sponson and waited for the shot line to be fired.  I peeked over the fuel line and suddenly realized that the fucking Gunner’s Mate was aiming directly at me and fired as I raised my head.  I quickly imitated a turtle and jerked my head behind the sponson as the shot line weight passed through the area where my head had been and slammed into the bulkhead.  My quick reaction was the only thing that prevented the black mark on the bulkhead from ending up on my head.

To this day, I cannot wrap my head around the reason a sailor would deliberately try to injure a fellow sailor with a potentially deadly projectile fired from a rifle.  Later, I was told that in the apparently less professional stateside fleet that the Gunner’s Mates awarded each other points for hitting someone on the receiving ship with the shot line projectile.

After that incident, I always logged off and went to cover when the shot lines were flying regardless of what ship we were replenishing from.

 

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

 

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Tips for the Temporary Bachelor

Tips for the Temporary Bachelor

By: Garland Davis

 

My wife will soon be making her annual trip to Japan to visit her family.  I would love to go with her but we have a dog who cannot be left alone for any appreciable time. During the thirty-three days she will be away I will be forced to fend for myself.  She has left me alone with the dogs a number of times over the years.  I have developed the ability to survive in her absence. The following tips are the result of my experiences living as a geographical bachelor during her trips over the past few years.  I am posting them in the hopes that other men can benefit from my experiences.

Underwear and Doing Laundry:

When your underwear drawer is empty, you may be tempted to load the washer and do the laundry.  Before taking this drastic step, remember, Walmart is open 24/7 and skivvies are pretty cheap.  The same goes for T-Shirts.  You will probably need socks also.  I used to go without socks until I found out that gays have adopted the practice.  Always wear denim shorts or trousers. Denim always looks dirty, even after washing.  No one will know the difference.

NOTE: An observation on shopping for underwear.  Did you ever go to the mall and marvel at the number of women’s (I guess gay dudes and crossdressers shop there also) lingerie stores?  You are tempted to go in and browse, but figure that someone will think you are a pervert (probably your wife).  Did you ever see a store exclusively for men’s skivvies?  No, because men and women shop differently.  When a woman’s underwear becomes unfashionable or stained, she throws it out and replaces it.  A man discards his underwear when the waistband loses its elasticity. What difference does a few stains or a few holes make if the waist is still snug.

The only type of store that outnumbers the lingerie stores in malls is the women’s shoe store. As a woman approaches a shoe store she stops and looks at the shoes offered.  This is another area where men and women differ.  As a man approaches a shoe store, he looks at his feet.  If there are shoes on them, he knows that there is no reason to stop. END NOTE

When you do find it necessary to do laundry, you will probably have a very large load what with all your old and new underwear to be washed. Just keep in mind that the washer will work fine if you can close the lid. It has a large load setting.  You can jam as many clothes in there as it will hold. I have never seen any sense in all this separating clothes into different piles.  It is just a waste of time and water.  The same goes for the dryer; it will just take a little longer to dry. By the way, did you know that a dryer has a lint filter that needs to be cleaned?  A nice fireman told me about it while he was reloading his equipment on the truck.

Shopping:

When you go to the local market to replenish your stock of snacks, remember to always take a cart upon entering the market.  If you don’t, Bud Light will be on sale and you will have to make a trip back to the store entrance to get one.  Buy lots of potato chips.  This forces the bagger to use a lot of those plastic bags.  You need plastic bags to pick up dog crap with. Besides a meal of potato chips and Bud Light is pretty easy to prepare.

WARNING: Do not go into the produce department!  Turn left toward the beer cooler upon entering the store. There is something about the sight of fresh vegetables that makes you think that you CAN eat healthy, starting tomorrow.  This feeling lasts until you pop the top on the first Bud Light. If you should be overcome with the desire to eat salads, it is only temporary. Just remember to clean all those rotten vegetables out of the refrigerator and throw them in the garbage before your wife returns. END WARNING

Cooking:

Keep in mind, the workers at McDonalds, Jack in the Box, Wendy’s, Pizza Hut, Papa John’s, and Taco Bell are much better cooks than you. (Don’t forget to throw all the bags boxes and packages away before the wife gets home.)  As far as breakfast is concerned, it usually takes care of itself, there is always some pizza or French fries left over from the previous night.  Remember “waste not, want not.”

Washing Dishes:

Paper plates and plastic ware will save you from this odorous task.  I say odorous because after a few days in the sink dirty dishes grow green stuff and smell very different from the food that was eaten from them.  If you are forced to use plates and things, putting the dirty items in the refrigerator will prevent the greenies and the strong odors.  If you must use a plate, just use the same one for everything.

WARNING: Do not drink Bud Light and watch the cooking channel.  You begin to think that you are a Chef and may end up with every pan, spoon, spatula, and whisk dirty.  You will end up with the absolute worst spaghetti you ever ate, except for that time on the gun line. This could cause you to have to wash dishes unless you have a large refrigerator or you throw away all that salad crap you bought when you were planning to eat healthy. END WARNING

House Cleaning:

Choose a single room in the house or the garage and spend as much time there as possible.  This way the house will have little chance to get dirty.  That is why the smart man equips his garage with a stereo, TV, refrigerator or cooler, and a folding chaise.  The only reason to enter the house is to use the toilet or sometimes take a shower.  Sleep/pass out in the folding chaise.  She will be astounded at your bed making skills. You will have to dust before the wife gets home. This will leave the house almost as clean as when she left.  She will be impressed.  The drawback to a clean house is that she may be so impressed with your housekeeping skills that she will expect you to continue to help clean and make the bed.  That is why you don’t clean the bathroom.  She will be so grossed out that she will exile you to the garage.  Speaking of the garage, don’t forget to put all the Bud Light boxes, pizza boxes, MacDonald’s bags, etc., into your neighbor’s trash can about an hour before you leave for the airport to pick her up.

Warning: You may be tempted to hire a maid to do laundry and clean the house before your wife returns. DO NOT do this.  If you watched Star Wars, you know that a Jedi can sense the force if another Jedi has been in the area.  Women have this same ability to sense the presence of another woman in her house.  Now if you bring a loose woman in her house, you may as well install a neon sign announcing it.  She will sense it as she gets off the plane. END WARNING

Personal Hygiene:

Take a shower every now and then.  The criteria I use is when I smell so bad that the dog growls at me, it is time to take a shower.  Brush your teeth every now and then. Remember to move the toothbrush and toothpaste back into the house from the garage before she gets home.  Otherwise, your wife will get pissed that you have been using the garage utility sink. Grow a beard while she is away.  She will be so focused on getting you to shave it off that she may miss many small things you overlooked. I doubt it but it’s worth a try.  It’s like leaving a small discrepancy to sidetrack an inspecting officer from finding a much larger one.

Don’t forget to move the weight set and the dumbbells out of the cabinet and leave them strewn around the garage and wipe all the dust off the treadmill.  This way you leave her with the impression that you have been working out.

Living alone can be a real challenge, but with a good plan, you can get through it.

 

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

 

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‘DeCom’

I penned this a couple years ago. When I VSI’d out of active duty off my last ship, USS Halsey CG-23, I learned that she was suddenly de-commed the next year, no one saw it coming. Everyone has a favorite command if they had multiple ones, Halsey was by far my favorite. I pretty much owned the aft engine room as LPO, knew every nut, bolt and weld of that space. This little ditty was in her honor.

John

 

‘DeCom’

By:  John Petersen

 

Her decks are rusty, cableways dusty, ladder backs covered in grime,

she sits forlorn and lonely, no sailors aboard to make her proudly shine.

She gave so many years, so many missions, her vision an imposing sight,

always there when needed, she was, ready to put up a fight.

The countless number of personnel who proudly kept her able to meet all calls,

can do no more than recall the memories of the stories within her steel walls.

The places she took us all, though we worked hard to get there,

were well worth the sleepless nights, constant drilling, training, recirculated air.

She was no cruise ship, never meant to be,

She was a warship, designed to protect and keep us free.

She was built with a purpose, we were trained to fulfill this task fully manned,

We dutifully gave what we had, to ensure her job was carried out as planned.

She did her job, she gave all she had, yet sadly technology moves along,

no longer will her old turbines move, singing their hellish song.

“Light fires”, as the order was given, to bring this old girl ready to go,

will no longer be heard throughout her spaces, only silence, all she’ll now know.

She’s been decommed, put to ‘pasture’, her days nearing an uncertain end,

She’s served our country proudly, she has, yet we know she cannot contend,

To what she’s up against, with tomorrow’s technology refusing to bend.

One can only hope, say a prayer, you and I,

for as those of us who’ve graced her decks our requests are not denied.

“Send her off with dignity, give her the respect so deserved,

She gave us all she had, she did, without a negative word.

Send her to the bottom, if you must, a fitting tribute to her service it is, you see,

to be buried at sea is a tribute to the best, her remains there forever for others to see.

For those in the future, who visit her barnacle-crusted shell,

remember her history, her service, her duty to keep us well.

A crucial part she played, to ensure the freedom for granted you take,

she was there in harm’s way to block those, who refuse to deny the right,

the value of life and the liberty all should be afforded,

to live fearlessly both day and night”.

Life goes on, can’t stop it, it will do what it must,

yet until her final day, she’ll sit there proudly, regardless of the rust.

 

A native of Nebraska, I have lived in Southern California since 1970. I graduated high school in ’81 and went straight into the Navy, Machinist Mate being my trade, all commands I served on were Pacific theater. After 12 years active and 22 years inactive reserve, I now manage a dry ice plant for Airgas

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Leadership

Leadership
Part I

By: Garland Davis

Since I read and posted the article about the USS Cowpens and the failure in leadership exhibited at many levels of the command, I have been thinking about military leadership, about how national leaders and senior officers lead and make decisions and the results of those decisions. I have also done some reading and given consideration to how leadership has changed and evolved over the ages.

I had considered starting this discussion with Joshua, a great military leader of the Bible. But, he was either, a great natural leader, a deranged person believing that he talked with God, or he was actually directed by the God of the Hebrews. Although victorious, I decided he wasn’t a good example of personal leadership. Joshua was more like the military leaders of today, directed from above.

Charles the Great (742-814) also known as Charlemagne was a medieval emperor who ruled much of Western Europe from 768 to 814. In 771, he embarked on a mission to unite all Germanic peoples into one kingdom. A skilled military strategist, he spent much of his reign in the field, engaged in warfare in order to accomplish his goals. He personally led and fought with his army.

Richard I of England, also known as Richard of Aquitaine and Richard the Lion Heart was King of England. By the age of sixteen, he had taken command of his own Army. He was a central Christian commander during the Third Crusade to the Holy Land. He also fought with the men he led. But, the decision to leave his Kingdom in the hands of charlatans and enemies while in the field was not a good one.

These leaders controlled the movements and actions of the armies that were physically close to their position. The further from them a unit or agent was located, the less control they had over actions. Success in these situations rested on the leader’s ability to choose the right person to lead distant units and to rely on that person’s ability to make crucial decisions.

During the Revolutionary War, the Continental Congress appointed George Washington as Commander of the Army but had little or no control over his actions. Likewise, General Washington had little control over distant subordinates. Military couriers were the primary method of communications. Here, congress and General Washington depended on the strengths and abilities of chosen subordinates. Although with the army, Washington did not personally lead his troops in battle, but directed actions by use of couriers (Aides de Camp) to carry messages between him and his officers. Leadership decisions in the line were made autonomously by the junior officers.

The line of communication stretched as subordinate units moved further from the overall Commander taking longer for information and orders to pass back and forth, leaving the subordinate more autonomously responsible for strategic decisions.

An example of the length of time to pass communications between the armies and the governments happened at the end of the war of 1812. After failing to take Baltimore, the British asked for a cease-fire and negotiated the Treaty of Ghent which ended the war. Before the information reached the armies in the field, the British forces attacked General Jackson’s forces at New Orleans two week after the peace had been signed.

Nowhere was the lines of communication longer than the Navy. Once a ship sailed, there would be months, if not years before information would be passed back and forth. The Navy commander was truly autonomous. He was expected to make decisions that would further his nation’s goals.

A good example of this is Commodore Preble and the First Barbary War. Preble was tasked with stopping the encroachment on U.S. merchant shipping and gaining the freedom of American seaman being held for ransom or in slavery. In May 1801, Preble traveled to Messina, Sicily where he negotiated a treaty, without direction from Washington, with Ferdinand IV, the King of Naples. Ferdinand supplied the Americans with manpower, craftsmen, supplies, gunboats, mortar boats, and the ports of Messina, Syracuse, and Palermo to be used as a naval base to launch operations against Tripoli.

In 1853 Commodore Perry was tasked with opening the Empire of Japan to foreign trade. In July of that year, four black ships led by USS Powhatan and commanded by Commodore Perry anchored in Tokyo Bay. Perry forced meetings with dignitaries of the Shogun and negotiated a Treaty that was signed in March 1854. Again with no input from Washington, although he did have diplomats from the State Department embarked.

In the examples of Commodore Preble and Commodore Perry, decisions were made and negotiations were led by them. They concluded and signed treaties in the name of the President of the United States. Preble served in the Massachusetts State Navy during and after the Revolutionary War, for fifteen years as a merchant captain and as a First Lieutenant and Captain in the U.S. Navy. A strong background of leadership duties. Matthew Perry received a Midshipman’s commission into the Navy in 1809. He served during the war of 1812 and under Commodore Bainbridge during the Second Barbary War. He also fought to suppress the slave trade, and in the Caribbean and in the Mexican-American War. He commanded a number of ships. Another strong background of increasing leadership duties.

Leadership was learned during many years, in garrison, on the battlefield, on the gun decks, and in the rigging, not in leadership schools.

 

 

Leadership
Part II
By: Garland Davis

American military communications as a separate discipline began with Confederate forces in 1862 and the Union Signal Corps was formed in 1863. Innovations were to follow as methods progressed from flag and torch signaling to telegraph and numerous other inventive schemes.

The Civil War was the first “modern war.” Abraham Lincoln became president of a divided nation during a period of both technological and social revolution. Among the many modern marvels was the telegraph, which Lincoln used to stay connected to the troops in the field in almost real time. Some historians say the he used the telegraph to micro-manage his generals and the war. No leader in history had ever possessed such a powerful tool.

During the years between the Civil War and the turn of the twentieth century many advances were made in telegraphy, however, it was still dependent on a system of wires connecting telegraph stations. Communication between ships or between ships and the shore were limited by the distance that flags or flashing light could be seen. The first electrical use in communications in the U.S. Navy was that of electric signaling lights in 1875.

The Coastal Signal System was created and by 1898 consisted of 230 land stations along the coasts of the country and were tied together by telegraph and telephone and used various systems to communicate with ships off shore. These stations were manned by Navy personnel. Again, only visual communications with ships were possible.

The first transatlantic telegraphic cable was laid in 1858, reducing the time for communication between Europe and the U.S. from ten or more days to minutes. This enabled U.S. Navy ships to send reports and receive orders rapidly when in a European port.

A number of scientists, including Faraday, Maxwell, Loomis, Dolbear, and Edison, developed the rudimentary aspects of electromagnetic communication during the 1870’s and 1880’s. Recognizing that it would of great use to the Navy, Lt Bradley A. Fiske researched and experimented with wireless communication in the decade following 1885. His work preceded that of Marchese Marconi. Marconi developed and applied Lt Fiske’s research to the concept of communications. The outcome of Marconi’s research was by July 1898; the steamer Flying Huntress became the first ship outfitted with radio for commercial purposes.

By 1900, the Royal Navy had installed radio equipment in 26 ships and coastal stations. In January 1902 the U.S. Navy issued instructions that ships masts be prepared to accommodate antennas. Early Navy Radio had two components. One was the shore radio system under the individual Commandants of the Naval Districts. The second system was Fleet Radio. It often lacked discipline and unified protocols.

During the period between the turn of the century, radio communications improved and communication between ships and ships and shore station greatly improved. Although subject to solar and weather influences, fleet and area commanders could communicate with individual ships and the Navy Department almost instantaneously. Because of the complexity and size of the Navy, communications became even more important during WWII. Radio equipment became more reliable during the war.

In 1947, the transistor was introduced. It eliminated the vacuum tube and permitted great strides in the sophistication of radio equipment. The next great leap in communication was to marry the transistor radio to the computer chip and the computer. This innovation created the ability to use satellite technology instead of antenna towers or microwave relay facilities. Today a commander can literally lift the telephone and talk with a ship’s commander or the fleet or area commander. Likewise, the fleet commander can talk with the Navy Department.

If you have read this far, you are probably asking, “What the hell does a history of modern communications have to do with leadership.

The stage for the use of modern communications was set by Abraham Lincoln, “micro-managing” and “nit-picking” his generals during the Civil War. This culminated during the Viet Nam War in the nightly assigning of North Vietnamese air targets by the President and Secretary of Defense. All the Air Commanders and U.S. Forces Viet Nam commander could do were suggest priority military targets. The politicians selected targets with little or no political value. Instant communications also prevented on scene commanders from taking military action in the Libyan Benghazi affair.

Navy Petty Officers, Chief Petty Officers, and Officers have become a community of reactive individuals waiting to be told what and how to do something rather than proactive individuals who determine what and how a project is to be completed. Junior Officers learn to wait for orders and to pass those orders down and oversee the accomplishment just as his superior is overseeing his efforts.

I was taught that if you have a problem, present the problem to your superior and also present your best solution. If you cannot communicate with a superior attempt to solve the problem and report your actions.
Before I left the Navy, I saw junior officers get lambasted for presenting solutions or actions to the command. They were told the solution. It becomes a habit to ask for guidance instead presenting solutions. One who follows orders meticulously cannot be wrong. Our Petty Officers, Chief Petty Officers, and Junior Officers are being trained that good leadership is asking for orders and the making sure those orders are passed down and accomplished.

A good friend, an MMC serving in a DDG in the early seventies, when asked by an inspector during an engineering inspection, “Chief, you are the EOOW, you just lost fires in both boilers and the electrical load, what action are you going to take?”

“The Chief said, “Put on a pot of coffee.”

“Why?” The inspector asked.

MMC replies, “Because the CO, the XO, the CHENG, the MPA, and every other fucking officer who can find his way down here is coming to visit and get in the way.”

 

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

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A Men’s Aisle at Walmart

A Men’s Aisle at Walmart

By Garland Davis

 

My sister, after reading my “Tips for the temporary Bachelor’, thinks that by discussing women’s lingerie stores that I was negligent in ignoring and not discussing stores that cater to men. She thinks I should expound on the subject of a store or at least an aisle in a department store devoted specifically to men. Before I do that let me note that men shop differently than women.  Men know what they want and need and that is all they buy.  Women love to browse through the entire inventory and discover other items they think they need.  A retailer would go broke depending on men to browse and make impulse purchases. Just ain’t gonna happen.

My sister provided a list of suggested items she believes will appeal to men. Below each, I explain whether or not she is right and the reason why.

NOSE HAIR CLIPPERS

This item is not something that will appeal to the “Real Man.” The “Real Man” deals with nose hairs by ripping the suckers out with his fingers while picking his nose. The man with a mustache can just blend the hairs with the ‘stash’ thereby giving it a fuller appearance.

BEANO

Another item that is not popular with the “Real Man.” The “Real Man” will not deprive himself of one of his greatest pleasures. The simple act of passing gas (farting) is pleasurable in so many ways. It provides a sense of relief from the pressures in his colon. The odor is pleasurable to him. The act of farting and the subsequent odor grosses his wife or girlfriend out. The smell attracts his best friend (his dog). It is most important in the rituals of male bonding while quaffing a few Bud Lights with his friends. This usually happens on Friday or Saturday evening in someone’s garage.

People say that Beano is good before flying because the air pressure changes cause bloating and gaseous discharges. Don’t worry about anyone hearing. Always try to seat yourself near the wing. The sound of the jet engines will cover the noise when you drop one. In the event of a strong smell, quickly look at the person across the aisle or in the seat behind you with a disgusted look on your face. This will shift the attention of the people in adjacent seats to him and away from you. This permits you the freedom to fart to your heart’s content throughout the flight, without anyone being the wiser.

UNIVERSAL REMOTE CONTROL

The remote control is a “no brainer.” This is, of course, an essential item in the Real Man’s inventory. The remote control keeps balance in a man’s life and permits him to pursue more than one field of study. He can watch a football game, basketball game, hockey game, and check-in on Two Broke Girls at the same time.

I just have a few complaints about the quality of remotes. I suggest that the makers add the following features to the devices:

  • A utility belt to hold the unit or a holster that can be clipped to the waistband of a pair of Jockey briefs.
  • A Surf button that will cause the TV to change channels each second until pushed again. This will preclude having to rapidly push the channel change button or to continually hold it down thereby eliminating pain and suffering by preventing possible trauma to the thumb.
  • A feature that beeps when you yell, “Where’s the f**king remote.”
  • A rechargeable remote that eliminates the next item on the list: Batteries for the remote.
  • A feature that screeches, when the battery charge is low, to remind your wife to recharge it while you are napping.

NOTE: In the event, that your wife forgets to charge the remote, or the damn thing breaks down, remember, your wife and kids are available to change channels at your direction. This is for emergencies only and should only be used sparingly. See “Duct Tape” below for the reason. END NOTE

JUST FOR MEN HAIR COLOR AND ROGAINE

These two items should be on the aisle although their appeal is limited to the men who are not confident in their masculinity. These are usually the recently divorced or the approaching forty bachelors. The “Real Man” is confident in his masculinity. He lives in a “Trailer Hood” (thank you Toby Keith) and really doesn’t give a shIt what color his hair is, or how much of it there is. He is happy in his little piece of paradise. He gets a haircut every three or four months whether he needs it or not. Many men, when they start balding, resort to shaving their head. That works for black men, but most white guys can’t carry it off. They usually end up with a nickname of Chrome Dome or Cue Ball.

DUCT TAPE

By all means! If you can’t fix it with duct tape, it can’t be fixed. They now have duct tape in all colors and patterns to match whatever surface you are repairing –A useful innovation in that if the tape is applied correctly it blends with the surface and eliminates your wife yelling,” When are you going to fix this?”

Duct Tape is an essential item and there should be a couple of rolls in every room of the house. Not only will the tape be at hand to make emergency repairs, it will promote peace and harmony. It prevents the “Real Man” from having to yell over the loud TV, “Where’d you put the fucking duct tape.” This is usually followed by his wife screeching, “Oh, you expect me to keep track of your shit.” And of course, your rejoinder, “I would know where it’s at, IF you didn’t move everything.” And it escalates from this point.

If everyone had a roll of duct tape, World Peace could probably be achieved.

PLAYBOY AND OTHER GIRLIE MAGAZINES

This is a horrid way to describe publications that contain some of the greatest works of Twenty-First Century philosophers (also Twentieth Century philosophers if you are a collector). I would also include magazines that deal with cars, boats, fishing, hunting, and sports. Another essential publication is Body Building and weight loss magazines to learn the proper way to diet and exercise because you are going to start a program to get back in shape. Next week.

BODY BUILDING EQUIPMENT AND WEIGHTS

Essential material for the fitness program that you are going to start next week.

BEER CAN CAPS

Anything to do with beer is a must item in the ideal men’s store. ‘Nuff said.

PANTS WITH WAISTBANDS HALF THE SIZE OF THE BEER BELLY

Men do not purchase underwear and pants to fit their present size. Men purchase for the size they will need after they start their diet and fitness program. Next week.

CONDOMS

Only large-size condoms should be sold. There is no self-respecting male who will go to the female cashier at the checkout stand with anything other than the extra-large size. So there is no reason to sell smaller sizes.

Now you know!

 

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

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“All the Girls”

“All the Girls”

By:  Garland Davis

“To all the girls who cared for me,
Who filled my nights with ecstasy;
They live within my heart;
I’ll always be a part
Of all the girls I’ve loved before.” — Willie Nelson

Bodyshop - Bars in Angeles City Philippines, Bar and Nightlife

It was a bitch, nearly fucking impossible to maintain a relationship with that girl back home.  You know the one you went to high school with.  She had never noticed you until you showed up on boot leave sporting dress blues, a Dixie cup hat, and a faraway look in your eyes.  Suddenly she was all moon eyed and in love.  You were only home on a seventy-two, but you would write each other every day. It was true love.

Why, you ask, was it impossible?  Any Dick back home with the most menial of jobs was John D. Rockefeller compared to a seventy-two bucks a month Seaman Second half way across the Pacific Ocean. And ole Dick was THERE and you weren’t!  By the time a guy made Third Class and had a few more bucks, that girl had already moved on to college and was keeping company with some Dick who could afford a car.  The last thing that young college girl wanted was for some North American Bluejacket to show up at her dormitory with a bag of dirty laundry and plans to shuck her out of her panties.

While you were floating around In the South China Sea dreaming of hot romantic interludes during your next leave, ole Dick with Papa’s money, his hot car, and his apartment became her Prince Charming.  He had all the time in the world to charm and conquer her.  You at best had a seventy-two before you deployed and the back seat of your Mom’s old De Soto.

At about this point, the ship made a port call in Subic Bay, a shipmate introduced you to the fascinating world of commercial romance.  This was a whole new aspect of female companionship leaving you time to do other things. It was not the world of romantic novels… Didn’t involve any ballet, poetry, hoity toity music, or getting all dressed up. And you could

visit as many times as you could afford during a seventy-two.  It was a Far East wedding night with the meter running.

You couldn’t expect mail from these girls.  Although I have gotten a request from Olongapo asking if I would send money to help with Mother’s surgery.  It seems Mama needs a brain transplant. (I am sure another sailor helped write that one.)  No mail but if you left your skivvies, they might be waiting for you, freshly laundered.

As time passed, you dreamed less of the girls back home and more about the girls in the next port.  Pull into port, and head for your old girlfriend’s bar only to have her tell you that you should have written.  She has a steady boyfriend off the Cruiser that is in port.  She is so sorry and loves you, and she has a cute cousin whom she would love to introduce to you.

After a thirty-year Navy life, twenty-four years afloat in eight WestPac ships and hundreds of port visits, you find it hard to remember names and faces, they just become “All the Girls, I’ve Loved Before.”

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

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