Admiral Zumwalt and the Z-grams

By:  Garland Davis

There has been a protracted conversation in the Tin Can Sailors II Facebook group regarding the effects Admiral Elmo Zumwalt and his Z-gram proclamations have had, both short term and long term, on the U.S. Navy. I am writing this as one who was there before, during, and after Zumwalt. This is written from my perspective and the comments and conclusions belong to me.

Zumwalt was a 1942 graduate o/f the Naval Academy.  He saw combat on destroyers in the Pacific, where he was awarded the Bronze Star with Valor Device for heroic service in the Combat Information Center in action against Japanese battleships during the Battle of Leyte Gulf.

At the end of the war, he served as the prize crew officer of the Ataka, a 1,200-ton Japanese river gunboat with a crew of two hundred.   In this capacity, he took the first American-controlled ship since the outbreak of World War II up the Huangpu River to Shanghai, China. There, they helped to restore order and assisted in disarming the Japanese.

Zumwalt was assigned a number of Executive Officer and Commanding Officer positions in destroyers and was also assigned as Navigator in USS Wisconsin. After leaving Wisconsin in 1952 he attended the Naval War College, at Newport, Rhode Island followed by a tour in Washington at the Bureau of Naval Personnel. Completing that duty in 1955, he assumed command of a Pacific Fleet destroyer.  After this tour, he was transferred to the Department of Naval Personnel where he served as Special Assistant for Naval personnel and later added Naval Aide to his position title.

He commanded USS Dewey (DLG-14) from December 1959 until June 1961.  During the class year 1961/1962, he attended the National War College in Washington.  After graduation, he was assigned he was assigned to the Office of the Assistant Secretary of Defense (International Security Affairs) at the Pentagon where he served as Desk Officer for France, Spain, and Portugal and later as Director of Arms Control and Contingency Planning for Cuba. From December 1963 until June 21, 1965, he served as Executive Assistant and Senior Aide Secretary of the Navy, Paul H. Nitze.  For these duties, he was awarded the Legion of Merit.

After selection for Flag Rank, Admiral Zumwalt assumed command of Cruiser-Destroyer Flotilla Seven during July in San Diego.  In September 1968, he became Commander Naval Forces Vietnam and Chief of the Naval Advisory Group, U.S. Military Assistance Command Vietnam (MACV).  He was promoted to Vice Admiral of that year.

Zumwalt’s command was not a blue water force, like the Seventh Fleet; it was a brown water unit: he commanded the flotilla of Swift Boats that patrolled the coasts, harbors, and rivers of Vietnam. Among the swift-boat commanders were his son, Elmo Russell Zumwalt III, and later future Senator and U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry. Among his other forces were Task Force 115, the Coastal Surveillance Force, Task Force 116, the River Patrol Force, and Task Force 117, the joint Army-Navy Mobile Riverine Force.

In April 1970, President Richard Nixon nominated Zumwalt to be Chief of Naval Operations.  Upon being relieved of duties as Commander Naval Forces, Vietnam in May 1970, he was awarded a second Navy Distinguished Service Medal.

He assumed duties as CNO and was promoted to full Admiral on July 1, 1970, and quickly began a series of moves intended to reduce racism and sexism in the Navy. These were disseminated in Navy-wide communications known as “Z-grams”.  There were seventy “Z-grams” promulgated during the period July 1, 1970, through 21 January 1971.  Seventy proclamations in a two hundred five-day period or a Z-gram once every 2.93 days, on average.

Massive change so rapidly had the result of upending everything that tradition, daily shipboard routine, Navy discipline, grooming standards, and personal relationships, developed over almost two hundred years, was based upon.

List of Z-grams 

• Z-gram 1 (14 July 1970): convened a junior officer retention study group.
• Z-gram 2 (1 July 1970): Zumwalt’s remarks upon taking office as CNO.
• Z-gram 3 (22 July 1970): Cryptographic procedures and Policy.
• Z-gram 4 (30 July 1970): authorized 30 days leave for officers with orders for a permanent change of station (PCS).
• Z-gram 5 (30 July 1970): instituted a test program aboard six ships to extend to First Class Petty Officers the privilege of Officers and Chief Petty Officers to keep civilian clothing aboard ship for wearing on liberty.
• Z-gram 6 (11 August 1970): instituted a test program, funded entirely by deployed personnel to assist their families obtaining transportation and lodging to visit them in an overseas liberty port during holiday periods.
• Z-gram 7 (11 August 1970): directed commanding officers to assign sponsors for newly arriving personnel. The sponsors were normally of the same rank or rate and with similar marital and family status to assist the arriving family establishing themselves in the new location.
• Z-gram 8 (11 August 1970): extended the working hours of personnel writing officers’ orders from 16:30 to 21:00 so those personnel would be available to answer telephone questions after duty hours of officers expecting orders.
• Z-gram 9 (14 August 1970): provided an alternative means of promotion to 1st class and CPO for highly motivated individuals who had five times failed the normal promotion examinations.
• Z-gram 10 (20 August 1970): required naval air stations to have an officer or CPO meet each arriving transient aircraft to coordinate aircraft servicing and assist flight crew with dining and temporary lodging.
• Z-gram 11 (24 August 1970): authorized continuing sea duty for enlisted men requesting it.
• Z-gram 12 (24 August 1970): authorized wearing of civilian clothes on shore bases during and after the evening meal by all enlisted personnel except recruits in basic training.
• Z-gram 13 (26 August 1970): directed commanding officers to grant 30 days of leave to at least half of their crew during the first 30 days following return from overseas deployment.
• Z-gram 14 (27 August 1970): abolished 18 collateral duties traditionally assigned to junior officers (including cigarette fund officer and cold weather officer) and encouraged assignment of another 18 collateral duties (including movie officer and athletics officer) to qualified senior petty officers.
• Z-gram 15 (28 August 1970): ordered all disbursing officers to provide all personnel with a statement of earnings prior to 30 October 1970 itemizing basic pay and allowances for clothing, quarters, sea duty, and hostile fire with taxes, deductions and allotments.
• Z-gram 16 (2 September 1970): established a computer database to assist enlisted personnel desiring a duty swap with a similarly qualified sailor on another ship or home port.
• Z-gram 17 (2 September 1970): raised the check-cashing limit at naval bases from $25 to $50.
• Z-gram 18 (4 September 1970): opened the Navy Finance Center around the clock to all disbursing officers processing urgent inquiries about pay and benefits.
• Z-gram 19 (4 September 1970): implemented an executive order from President Nixon to authorize an increased percentage of early promotions for officers.
• Z-gram 20 (8 September 1970): required all shore bases to provide washing facilities and lockers for enlisted personnel assigned dirty work in dungarees.
• Z-gram 21 (9 September 1970): encouraged commanding officers to provide compensatory time off for personnel standing watch on holidays.
• Z-gram 22 (9 September 1970): authorized shore bases to organize facility improvement teams for welfare, living and parking facilities.
• Z-gram 23 (12 September 1970): established the CPO advisory board to the CNO.
• Z-gram 24 (14 September 1970): established procedures for Navy wives to present complaints, viewpoints, and suggestions to commanding officers of shore bases.
• Z-gram 25 (16 September 1970): authorized ships in port to reduce watch standing rotation from one day in four to one day in six.
• Z-gram 26 (21 September 1970): shifted responsibility for shore patrol staffing from shipboard to shore-based personnel at major naval bases.
• Z-gram 27 (21 September 1970): eliminated routine local operations over a weekend by ships sailing from their home port.
• Z-gram 28 (21 September 1970): was a status report on implementation of recommendations by retention study groups.
• Z-gram 29 (22 September 1970): encouraged commanding officers to allow leave for 5% of their crew during overseas deployments.
• Z-gram 30 (23 September 1970): established “hard-rock” officers’ clubs for junior officers at five naval bases and encouraged other naval base officers’ clubs to allow at least one room for casual dress, encourage unescorted young ladies to visit the clubs, and appoint younger officers to advise club managers about other measures to improve morale of junior officers.
• Z-gram 31 (23 September 1970): established a junior officer ship-handling competition whose winners would be able to pick their next duty assignment.
• Z-gram 32 (23 September 1970): allowed sailors to arrange their own re-enlistment ceremonies with assistance from their command.
• Z-gram 33 (25 September 1970): established a procedure to improve customer relations at naval Base Exchanges.
• Z-gram 34 (25 September 1970): eliminated the requirement for junior officers to own formal dinner dress uniforms.
• Z-gram 35 (25 September 1970): authorized alcoholic beverages in barracks and beer vending machines in senior enlisted barracks.
• Z-gram 36 (26 September 1970): encouraged commanding officers to improve the customer service ethic at base dispensaries and disbursing facilities.
• Z-gram 37 (26 September 1970): reduced the rank required for command of aviation squadrons from Commander to Lieutenant Commander.
• Z-gram 38 (28 September 1970): instructed commanding officers to eliminate scheduling of work routine on Sundays and holidays unless the ship is deployed overseas.
• Z-gram 39 (5 October 1970): extended the operating hours of 25 large base commissaries to reduce crowds on Saturday mornings and paydays.
• Z-gram 40 (7 October 1970): gave sailors the option of being paid either in cash or by check.
• Z-gram 41 (21 October 1970): established a Command Excellence chair at the Naval war College to be filled by a commander or captain with a record of outstanding performance in command.
• Z-gram 42 (13 October 1970): allowed junior officers to request sea duty as their first choice for initial duty assignment.
• Z-gram 43 (13 October 1970): encouraged commanding officers to help disbursing officers speedily process large travel reimbursement claims.
• Z-gram 44 (13 October 1970): encouraged assignment of senior petty officers to stand in-port officer of the deck watches to reduce junior officer workload.
• Z-gram 45 (15 October 1970): encouraged commanding officers to increase support services to families of prisoners of war.
• Z-gram 46 (15 October 1970): reduced routine paperwork required for the 3M planned maintenance system inspections and documentation.
• Z-gram 47 (20 October 1970): increased responsibilities of department heads and executive officers of ships being deactivated.
• Z-gram 48 (23 October 1970): established a new Bureau of Naval Personnel office focused on providing information to dependent families of active duty personnel.
• Z-gram 49 (23 October 1970): required half of personnel on awards boards to be below the rank of commander.
• Z-gram 50 (23 October 1970): encouraged ships returning from overseas deployments to use shore-based utilities to allow leave for increased numbers of engineering personnel.
• Z-gram 51 (23 October 1970): established a uniform breast insignia for officers in charge of brown-water boats.
• Z-gram 52 (23 October 1970): Dissemination of CNO policy.
• Z-gram 53 (2 November 1970): authorized annual publication of a list of job assignments available to junior officers, emphasizing geographical locations and required qualifications for career planning.
• Z-gram 54 (2 November 1970): outlined procedures for junior personnel to make suggestions to CNO.
• Z-gram 55 (4 November 1970): established pilot program for improving Navy human resources management.
• Z-gram 56 (9 November 1970): established a program similar to Z-16 for officers desiring a duty swap with a similarly qualified officer on another ship or home port.
• Z-gram 57 (10 November 1970): eliminated a broad spectrum of selectively enforced regulations and specified relaxed interpretations of others related to grooming standards and wearing of uniforms, so the vast majority of sailors would not be penalized by policies designed to constrain a few abusing the trust and confidence of less stringent rules.
• Z-gram 58 (14 November 1970): required ships’ stores afloat to accept checks in payment for purchases.
• Z-gram 59 (14 November 1970): established a program for officers to spend a year of independent research and study for professional development in areas mutually beneficial to the officer and the Navy.
• Z-gram 60 (18 November 1970): encouraged all major naval installations to install a recording answering device on one telephone to receive suggestions.
• Z-gram 61 (19 November 1970): Authorized warrant officers and senior petty officers afloat to serve as communications watch officers and registered publications custodians.
• Z-gram 62 (27 November 1970): established a Naval War College forum to discuss improved naval personnel policies and present their views to CNO and Secretary of the Navy.
• Z-gram 63 (30 November 1970): reduced by 25% the number of publications to be maintained by ships.
• Z-gram 64 (3 December 1970): encouraged commanding officers to increase the opportunities for junior officers to practice ship handling.
• Z-gram 65 (5 December 1970): listed incentives for officers to volunteer for duty in Vietnam.
• Z-gram 66 (17 December 1970): directed every navy facility to appoint a minority group officer or senior petty officer as a minority affairs assistant to the commanding officer.
• Z-gram 67 (22 December 1970): streamlined required inspection procedures to reduce the amount of time required for preparation and execution.
• Z-gram 68 (23 December 1970): expanded the civilian clothing privilege explored in Z-gram 5 to all petty officers on all ships.
• Z-gram 69 (28 December 1970): eliminated command of a deep draft ship from the requirements for promotion to admiral.
• Z-gram 70 (21 January 1971): clarified grooming standards and working uniform regulations addressed by Z-gram 57 to reflect contemporary hair styles and allow wearing working uniforms while commuting between the base and off-base housing.

The majority of the Admiral’s Z-grams addressed retention and advancement programs and had very little effect on the daily operations of the entire Navy.  The following six Z-grams began a transformation of the Navy that is still ongoing.

The message regarding grooming standards is viewed as the one that almost broke the Navy disciplinary system or as freeing of the serfs by the Magna Charta.  There was the cadre of career sailors who saw Navy traditions, routine, and their authority being thrown in the garbage chute.  The other side of the coin saw eccentric beards and mustachios, collar length hair greased and piled under uniform headwear.  I remember one “sea lawyer” who had the pertinent Z-grams laminated and carried them around in his pocket and would try to interpret them in his favor.

I don’t remember when civilian clothing privileges were extended to all hands.  The civilian clothing aboard ship where there was barely enough room for required uniform items taxed the system.  The result of this was sailors civilian clothing was better cared for than uniforms.

On July 30, 1970, Z-gram number four established a test program to permit First Class Petty Officers to keep civilian clothing aboard ship for wearing on liberty.   This action got the average sailors attention.  Twenty-four days later Z-gram number twelve authorized the wearing of civilian clothing aboard shore stations during non-working hours.

The Admiral, during his travels to Naval Stations and afloat units, made it a practice to conduct question and answer sessions with members of the crew.  Z-gram seventeen seems to be a knee-jerk reaction to the question, “Why doesn’t the Navy Exchange cash checks for more than twenty-five dollars. The Z-gram raised it to fifty dollars in one fell swoop.

Z-gram fifty-one started the ball rolling for the myriad pins and devices authorized for wear on the uniform today by establishing a breast insignia for Officers in Charge of brown-water navy boats.

On November 10, 1970, Z-gram fifty-seven eliminated a broad spectrum of selectively enforced regulations and specified relaxed interpretations of others related to grooming standards and wearing of uniforms, so the vast majority of sailors would not be penalized by policies designed to constrain a few abusing the trust and confidence of less stringent rules.

On December 23, 1970, barely five months’ after Z-gram number four authorized a test program regarding civilian clothing aboard ship, Z-gram sixty-eight expanded the civilian clothing privilege to all Petty Officers on all ships.

On January 21, 1971, Z-gram Seventy clarified grooming standards and working uniform regulations addressed by Z-gram 57 to reflect contemporary hair styles and allow wearing working uniforms while commuting between the base and off-base housing.  Now you see sailors in working uniform everywhere.

I heard a Force Master Chief expound on Admiral Zumwalt’s programs and say that the Admiral was right.  He just did not get the full support of the chain of command in implementing the Z-grams.  Many Commanders, Officer’s and Chief Petty Officers were flummoxed by the rapid change. Many agreed that some of the changes were good, but they came too fast.  Instead of telling Commanding of the changes he desired and gradually implement, Zumwalt broadcast them to everyone.  Before CO’s could assess the situation the crew was “running amok with their own interpretations of the XZ-grams.”  Many seniors tried to maintain the traditions and routines. Others just shrugged, turned their backs and a blind eye to what was happening.

Is the Navy better or worse off for his tenure as the Chief of Navy Operations?  Each of us who was there has an opinion, the one term sailor who got over on his LPO or Chief by growing a beard and thumbing his nose at custom.  And then there were the Officers, Chief, and LDO’s who had to interpret new rules and live through watching the Navy change before their eyes.

Admiral Zumwalt was dedicated to, in his words, “making it fun to go down to the sea in ships again.” But just because you can change something, doesn’t always mean you should.  Too rapid change often has far-reaching and unforeseen consequences.

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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.

The Surabayan Liberty Incident

By: David ‘Mac’ McAllister

As I stood in the log room staring at the shit growing in the Petri dish the HMC just brought in, wondering if we even had enough Calcium Hypochlorite on board to make what passed for potable water here safe to drink, I was concerned about a far greater potential catastrophe. Berthed at a shallow water pier meant that at low tide the ship could settle into the mud, fouling cooling water sea chests for the ships service generators. I thought: “If the world had armpits one of them must be here – Surabaya, Indonesia”.

It was August 1977 and the 7th fleet flagship had just arrived for a two-day protocol visit following ops with the Indonesian Navy. For those not familiar with flagship ops, protocol visits were a show the flag event jammed with various activities including receptions hosted by the Admiral or local dignitaries. On this occasion in addition to civic action projects, ship tours and athletic contests the staff and ship’s company officers would be hosted at a reception on the pier by the Admiral of the Indonesian Armada. These receptions were noted for being “Command Performances” or mandatory attendance; losing electrical power would be an intolerable event.

My Division Officer, a recently promoted CWO4, had assumed a somewhat caretaker attitude leaving the business of running “M” division up to me. As he breezed through the log room in his liberty regalia, peered into the Petri dish wishing me “Lot’s of luck on that Chief”, he was obviously heading ashore to get ready for the afternoon reception.

After multiple chlorination’s, ensuring that the generator sea chests were rigged with steam blowouts and the duty section was well settled into auxiliary steaming, I set out to find a little of Surabaya myself. Jumping into a cab all I said was Bin tang, within minutes I was walking into a combination bar/skivvy house. To my surprise half of “M” Div, including CWO4, was there and already well underway. In addition to the girls the entertainment consisted of shooters of Batavia rum chased with bottles of Bin tang beer.

As is customary, I immediately ordered a round. CWO4, not at all bashful in the face of booze, tossed his shot of rum back just as someone proposed a toast to his recent promotion. Without missing a beat he spit the rum back into the shot glass, hoisted it and joined the toast to his own good fortune. After a few such rounds the hour drew near for both low tide and the Admirals reception. Wanting to be around during low tide, I shared a cab back to the ship with CWO4.

Emerging from the cab onto the awning rigged pier we noted that the tide had ebbed. The ship was breasted off the pier by camels and that distance was now a mud flat barely covered with water. Parting ways at the Quarter Deck CWO4 set off, with a definite bit of left rudder in his gait, to shift into his glad rags while I went below to check on the generators and the watch.

CWO4’s glad rags for this gala event would be Protocol Tropical White Long consisting of: tropical white short sleeved shirt, long white pants, white shoes, and gold cumber bun with miniature medals. Not as bad as it sounds, the uniform looked remarkably sharp on a slim profile. However, the years had not been so kind to CWO4 and what, at one time, could have been perhaps a barrel chest had gravitated to the south and east. This gave him a unique shape similar to Baby Huey; needless to say, rigging out in this particular uniform was a lesson in stress testing of both body and fabric.

Leaving the ship in the normal fashion is usually a painless ceremony consisting of a salute to the OOD, requesting permission to leave the ship, a 90° turn to face the ensign flying at the fantail, another salute, another 90° turn and you are on your way down the brow. CWO4 decked out in his sartorial splendor, stood before the OOD saluted and made the proper request. I don’t know whether it was the brand new leather soled and heeled white shoes from Hong Kong, the hot Sun, something slick on the brow, the shots of Batavia rum, bottles, and bottles of Bin tang beer or a combination of all of the above; what happened next can only be described as a cross between Mary Lou Retton gymnastics and Greg Louganis high diving. CWO4’s next ninety turned into a 270° pirouette culminating in a headlong death-defying plunge over the brow; although to his credit, CWO4 did get off a salute to the ensign as he passed the appropriate 90° mark. In opposition to the laws of gravity, he landed like a dart head first in the mud below clear up to the gold cummerbund; little fat legs flailing about as if in answer to some mental backing bell his brain had rung up in order to extricate him from this unintentional grounding.

Well not to ponder a point, the flying squad was called away and CWO4 was shortly extracted unscathed from the mud below and brought back aboard; naturally by way of the, by now, dignitary infested pier. Let it not be said that the Indonesians do not have a sense of humor; for although initially appalled, they did consider the incident entertaining and awarded CWO4 a grade of 10 for form and style, 9 for execution and perseverance under pressure however only a 1 for timing and decorum.

The next morning CWO4 sat in the log room; the Chief Engineer entered. In a sarcastic tone, as only an Academy puke is capable of whined, “And what have you to say for yourself this morning”.

Without missing a lick CWO4 looked at him through terribly bloodshot eyes and said “Better than twenty-six in; they don’t make W5’s”.

Without another peep the Engineer went into his office and slammed the door, and you ask me why I became a Warrant!?!

Yesterday I wrote of the grounding and surrender of the frigate Philadelphia and the actions taken to deny the enemy of her use as a warship or a propaganda symbol. Today we have the story of USS Pueblo told by Pat Dingle, who was there as part of the response to Pueblo’s capture.

Full Steam Ahead

Rescue The USS Pueblo

By: Pat Dingle

The 12 months between April 1967 and April 1968 were the best of times and the worst of times of my four years in the Navy. It started with a murder and narcotics undercover assignment in Las Vegas while home from the Yorktown’s second full 10/11-month tour in the Gulf of Tonkin. My week long leave turned into a month assigned to the LV police, having been recruited by a detective who, as it turned out later, was also in the Chicago mafia. After a very narrow escape from getting knocked off myself, I returned to Long Beach and the Yorktown. I was an RD3 and among the senior in OI div. and there’s nothing more useless to the Navy then a radarman in port. This time they did something about that. I was recruited by the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) to be the first “Nark” in a pilot program to combat civilians selling dope to sailors. This was the best of times. Here I am, a 20-year-old sailor packing a gun, going all over the southern California map in civvies of the era on my motorcycle or ‘55 Chevy depending on my target, like a kid in a candy store only I couldn’t/wouldn’t ingest the candy. I’d only return to the Yorktown near paydays and the Captain would personally arrange for me to be paid (He once told the Disbursing Officer to pay me whatever I wanted. I had to think hard for a minute about that temptation but then requested my regular pay) I had a room on base or at a bad guy’s pad. The Navy’s only request was for me to call every day or two to say I was alive and to come into ONI’s headquarters once a week or so and tell them what I was doing. Finally, it’s the Navy I thought I had joined over three years ago and that misunderstanding was rudely corrected on the first day of boot camp. All good things must come to an end and my end with ONI came after a bad guy’s house was shot up and ONI thought things were too hot for me to continue so they returned me bruised but not broken to the Yorktown just as she deployed back to Westpac and Vietnam waters. It would be the last time for the USS Yorktown and me. It was early January 1968. The worst of times.

Our four destroyers formed up with us the day we left Long Beach. The following day we steamed off San Diego as our air squadrons landed aboard and we then steamed westward. There were about five of us Third Class Petty Officers who were equal in seniority in CIC and several Second Class and First Class P.O.’s who were also making their second deployment with us. A new Senior Chief joined two others and of course there was a complete turnover of the seven or eight officers in OI div. Captain Bennett was still in command of the Yorktown and I don’t recall who the new Admiral was, too far over my pay grade. There were a number of new RD3’s and a shit load of new seamen, many who were reserves. I was a short timer due to be discharged in a few months and truth be told these many decades later, it showed. There was a clash between the new Senior Chief and me. Again, truth be told now, he won. I trained the new guys on the operation of CIC as did the other salty petty officers but coming off nearly a year as the lone ranger it didn’t come easy. The Yorktown drilled nearly every day as we steamed to Pearl for a few days of liberty then on to Japan, with more drills along the way and UNREP’s, to replenish stores but I don’t really recall any of this, done it too many times and the drills were ingrained as were Pearl and ports in Japan. The thrill was gone. It was January 23 and we were approaching the southern Japanese Islands when the message came in to us. The USS Pueblo is under attack by North Koreans.

I can’t begin to describe what we felt upon hearing that the North Koreans were attacking one of our ships but I’ll try. It was outrage to the max. NOBODY FUCKS WITH ONE OF OUR SHIPS AND LIVES. The Yorktown and her escorts were ordered to make best speed to the Pueblo’s location, about 15-20 hours away, and rescue her and the crew. Capt. Bennett first ordered the destroyers to come alongside for an underway replenishment to top off as we changed course to the Sea of Japan. Unrep done, we made 32 knots throughout the cold night, passing through the Tsushima Straits with our radars turned off. That had never happened before during my years aboard. The reason was we didn’t want the enemy to pick up our radar signals and know we were coming. CIC went to GQ stations and that’s about the time a few strange things happened. Our orders from the Commander Pacific Fleet, Pearl Harbor were left out in the open for all of us in CIC to read. I’ll never forget them. The first read “Attack anything communist”. The second thing was, morale shot sky high throughout the ship. Guys in the passageways, strangers, were giving high-fives. The crew was so pumped, we’re on our way full speed to kick ass. The ship was vibrating from making all those knots and so were we. I guess it helped knowing we were the closest military response and closing. The Yorktown was steaming at best speed to the sound of the guns. I’m sure it was the same aboard the destroyers. None of us could wait to get to the North Korean coast and kill those fucking commie bastards messing with the Pueblo. We didn’t know she’d been captured.

During that first night in route word came in that the Pueblo had been boarded and taken to the Port of Wonsan. Our orders were to steam to an area close off that port. The order to shoot still stood. To a man we were ready to do battle. As we approached our destination more orders started coming in, “Only shoot if you can clearly identify your target”, a few hours later, on station, “Don’t shoot unless you’re attacked”. The word going around was we’re going to use our Marine detachment and a voluntary force of sailors to storm ashore and find the Pueblo’s crew. I looked high and low as did my shipmates for the guy with the clipboard taking names. Morale was still very high as was the outrage. More destroyers joined up with us. Every time a new American ship arrived we thought that’s it, we have enough now, lets go in. Everyone was asking what are we waiting for? I kept thinking of the captured crew and what must be happening to them. The weather and my Chief didn’t help matters. Like I said, we clashed when he first came aboard a month or two ago. We were prepared for the South China Sea and pea coats worked for liberty in Japan during the winter but this fucking freezing weather was something I’ve never experienced before. None of us had. We had foul weather gear of course but that had the same warming effect as a t-shirt. CIC is always air conditioned. We turned it off. There’s fucking SNOW on the flight deck most days. My Chief wanted me to have a very responsible position during this time of conflict, away from CIC and him, so he put me in charge of the lookouts up on the open 07 deck. Now remember, there were blizzards nearly every day, you couldn’t see the end of the flight deck. The slow burn I felt helped but not very damn much. My section stood watch 7 on, 5 off, 5 on, 7 off 24/7 for what turned out to be several months. I relieved one lookout at a time to go down below to CIC to warm up and get a cup of coffee. When all four had a break I went down to CIC and got the latest intelligence reports. The Yorktown and task-group steamed back and forth off the Port of Wonsan.

To say the situation was tense would be an understatement. The North Koreans had an air base five minutes away making us an immediate target if war breaks out. Attacking the Pueblo, we thought it had. We didn’t know what kind of Navy they had other than enough of a Navy to overcome one of our ships. During that first few days, word was the Enterprise, Ranger, and one other attack carrier were ordered up from Vietnam. We’d cling to any rumor that offered hope that we’ll go in and attack. Moral was still very high as a result. I understood the carriers are underway to Korea, then the Tet Offense began and they were ordered back to Nam. More ships arrive and take station with us. What the hell are we waiting for? Nobody knew and the rumors seem to become downgraded each long day, less action orientated, but in our heart of hearts we knew they were just rumors anyway. But for now that’s all we had. The forward and aft lookouts and I were allowed to move up to the enclosed 010 level located just under the radar antennas for humanitarian reasons. It was that or suffer frostbite. The 010 remained unchanged from 1943 when the Yorktown was built. It wasn’t anything more than a small space made of thick bullet proof steel with four slit portholes. It was the highest enclosed space on the island above the flight deck and just as cold as the flight deck but it protected from the wind and blowing snow. We found a small electric heater somewhere and used that to take turns warming our hands through the gloves. Turn’s up, hands froze. This sucked. I had this tiny taste of understanding the hardships our ground troops went through during the Korean War after a month or so on the 07 and 010. My respects gentlemen.

I would go down the many ladders to CIC for hot coffee and the scuttlebutt, one was hot, one cold. The focus during this stage was all eyes on the jet bases and anything on the waters in between us and those commie bastards. We had our small detachment of A-4 Skyhawks ready to launch and our two 5 inch guns were manned 24/7 but we really depended on all the destroyers to protect the Yorktown during an attack. During my nearly four years aboard I’ve seen our guns’ fire once, off California, never came close to hitting the towed target sled. After learning all there was, I’d carry hot cups of coffee in a box up to my guys. It was always cold in the time it took to climb up there and I climbed ladders like a monkey back then. During those days of blowing snow the only duty we’d do is respond over the sound powered phones “Forward eye”, “Aft eye” every half hour when CIC asked for a report-in from us and the bridge. The rest of the time we’d just sit on the deck leaning back against the bulkhead and swap sea stories. As I was the one with two tours and E-4, I’d run my mouth more than the seamen boots on duty. I tried to regale them with exploits of on the beach, what’s it’s like in the Gulf of Tonkin, how important it is to pay strict attention to your scopes as lives depend on it etc. And of course the jokes of the day. Those were repeated so much we all had our responses down pat, no pun intended. Today I can only recall one of those guys. He was a reserve collage kid and total introvert in his late teens. He never said a word. He’d just sit there with his hood pulled tight over his head looking out with those wide blue eyes like an owl. Now and then I’d fuck with him by telling some stories of dangerous areas in Hong Kong or Subic. When I realized this kid can’t cut it I left him alone. Swashbuckler he ain’t and within a few months he was flown home as a mental. I know that happened to three or four guys in CIC during our first two tours too. I understand today but didn’t back then, I lived for adventure the Navy provided. The capture of the USS Pueblo changed that mindset for me.

The USS Yorktown remained the command ship as the task force steamed back and forth in a fifty-mile-long figure eight and in about the same miles from shore. Moral aboard began to plummet in the third week of this clusterfuck. The only thing we knew for sure was the commies had our ship and crew a few minutes over the horizon. Even the top secret messages from Pearl dried up, meaning they weren’t being given out any more for everyone in OI to read, just the select few. We were getting daily updates on the 7th Fleet’s actions taken because of the Tet Offence still underway but that had little or no meaning to us. Our fight’s here but “they” won’t let us fight. Then we read the orders, the USS Enterprise and several other attack carriers are, for the second time, steaming north to join with us off North Korea. Moral had been going up and down like a yo-yo and this news shot it up like a rocket. They’re not coming unless this is it. Again high-fives, the crew’s pumped, we’re going in for sure this time. Even the weather improved. Still fucking freezing but no blowing snow, just heavy wet fog. I took the lookouts down below to the exposed 07 for a change of pace over the next week and that helped matters. Any change helped matters. OI division was at GQ for a month now and would stay there for another month. I don’t know about the other divisions.

It was one of those moments that stays with you for the remainder of your life. It was mid-day, visibility about 5,000 yards then a wall of fog you couldn’t see your outstretched hand in. Our surface radar was reporting the CPA (closest point of approach) every few minutes, she’s minutes out and I’m on duty up on the 07.  The USS Enterprise came bow first out of the fog on our forward starboard side and kept coming, sliding past us about 4,000 yards out. Jesus H. Christ, I’ve never seen a ship that big. And as a carrier sailor I thought the Yorktown was huge. I’d seen photos of the Enterprise of course and her box like superstructure signature. But seeing her coming out of the fog like that was surreal. I took one of the binoculars away from a lookout and looking higher than our 07, focused on her attack aircraft on the flight deck, starboard side, couldn’t see her port side. I couldn’t take my eyes away but the relative speed of two ships passing in the fog did within a few moments. Moments that would forever more be with me. I never saw the USS Enterprise again.     The Enterprise and the other attack carrier that came, can’t now recall, let’s call it the fog of war, with their escorts are on the scene with us. I knew it’s for real, payback time. No more waiting, slash and burn upon landing, we’re going to get our Pueblo and crew back. Why else would they send the two other carriers and ships? It’s High Noon right? Moral aboard the Yorktown now peaked, every man aboard was convinced the waiting was over. The weeks of freezing throughout every compartment forgotten. Our blood’s up as is our fighting spirit, it’s only a matter of hours or days at most. This is why we drilled, why we had two full tours in the Gulf of Tonkin. I’m in CIC more than my duty station up topside. I have to know from the vast number of Intel sources there, that and I’m one of the most experienced on any station. I belong with my shipmates, not the boots on lookout. Besides, we can’t see shit past a matter of yards. Such was my attitude, the new Chief had one too. Whenever he left the Chief’s mess to drop in CIC and caught me in there he’d chew my ass. I’d reply just getting coffee for my guys Chief. He couldn’t bust me for that but we both knew, everyone knew. The cat and mouse game played out 24/7 and I’m no fucking mouse. I’m a 20-year-old war seasoned salty sailor wanting to do what I’m trained for. Our other Chief, a great guy I respected named Sorrel made Chief after two years with us. He’d try to help me with my frustration and I appreciated that but after serving as the lone ranger with ONI and my natural nature, well it was hard. I didn’t act ignorant or do anything a good E4 doesn’t do to circumvent his Chief, it’s only natural to forget the Chief was once an E-4 and knows what I’m thinking and doing before I do. Thinking of nothing but the Pueblo’s crew, the fucking Chief, the fucking freezing weather, the fucking waiting weeks for the fight, the fucking Navy that just extended this short timer’s enlistment, it was a perfect storm for this fucking fighting PO-3 as well as most of my shipmates. Attack the bastards and we’re OK with all this and a lot more. It was the perfect storm about to get worse.

It wasn’t long, perhaps a week, before the USS Enterprise and the other carrier or two and their ships left for Nam. We’re alone again, the Yorktown and a number of destroyers, steaming in that goddamn fifty-mile figure eight off shore. This is where we came in over a month ago. I don’t have the words to describe the betrayal I, we, felt. How could the United States do this to the Pueblo’s crew? It was incomprehensible. It was unforgiveable. My shipmates felt so too. It was so fucked I quit. Truth is I have no memory whatsoever of the next few months. I know from old shipmates in recent years that we steamed off North Korea for a few weeks more, did another stint in the Gulf of Tonkin, made port in Subic and I have absolutely no memory of any of that. Fuck it. The only thing I recall is in mid-April something happened to a propeller shaft while steaming in the Gulf and the joke going around was that we’d hit a rock. I was due for discharge on April 24th, the day before my twenty first birthday, but had been extended like so many others. We had to make way to Yokosuka for dry dock repairs but I didn’t give a shit. It was the worst of times.

My next and last story picks up from there with an ending you can’t make up and one that’s never left me if triggered by a certain song of the era. Fast forward a few months and due to my experiences in the Navy, taking off alone to parts unknown in foreign lands described in prior stories, ONI, hearing men die in CIC, all that my Navy was in 1964-68, all three years eleven months and three weeks, a kiddie cruiser. I became a street cop, one of a handful, in the blue collar ghetto mobbed up end of Las Vegas in time for the start of riots, black panthers, SDS, snipers and ambushes. Burning of draft cards, something I never had, wasn’t old enough. I found my fight after all. It was the best of times.

PS   I followed the Pueblo’s story over the years the same as all of you and we know the reason why it happened, The Rat-Bastard Traitor Walker Family and the USSR’s need for an updated U.S. Navy cryptograph machine. Any thoughts on this “Incident?”

Stephen Decatur and USS Philadelphia

By:  Garland Davis

On November 14, 1798, USS Philadelphia was laid down in that city at the same shipyard that built the USS Constitution.  She was a 1240 ton, 36-gun sailing frigate and the second United States Navy vessel to be named Philadelphia.  Originally named City of Philadelphia, she was built for the Navy by citizens of the city.  Funding for Philadelphia’s construction came as the result of a funding drive which raised more than $100,000 in June 1798. The frigate was launched on November 28, 1799, and commissioned on April 5, 1800, with Captain Stephen Decatur in command.

Philadelphia was initially assigned to the West Indies to serve in the Quasi-War with France. She arrived in Guadeloupe Station in May of 1800 relieving the frigate Constellation. During this cruise, Philadelphia captured five armed French Vessels and recaptured six American merchant ships that had fallen into French hands.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The Quasi-War with France: On February 6, 1778, during the Revolutionary War, the United States, and France entered into a Treaty of Alliance signed by Benjamin Franklin, the Comte de Vergennes and others. Also known as the Franco-American Alliance, it set up a military alliance between the two nations and aided the Americans in their cause against the British.

In 1793, war between England and France broke out. A year later, John Jay negotiated a treaty with Great Britain that increased trade between the nations, resolved several points of contention between the nations and averted war. The French and Americans were already at odds over the United States’ refusal to continue paying its debt to France in the wake of the French Revolution. The Americans believed the debt was payable to the monarchy of France, not the Republic. While the Jay Treaty resolved issues with Britain, it created new tensions with France. END NOTE

After returning home in March 1800, Philadelphia was ordered to prepare for a one-year cruise to the Mediterranean as part of a squadron commanded by Commodore Richard Dale.  The squadron arrived at Gibraltar on July 1, 1800.  Philadelphia was directed to cruise the Straits and blockade the coast of Tripoli, the Pasha having threatened to wage war on the United States.

In April 1802, Philadelphia departed Gibraltar for the United States, arriving in mid-July.  Laid up in ordinary until May 21, 1803, she recommissioned and sailed for the Mediterranean on July 28.  She arrived in Gibraltar on August 24 with Captain William Bainbridge in command.  Two days later she captured the 24 gun Moroccan ship Mirboka and recaptured the American brig Celia and brought them into Gibraltar.

During this period, known as the First Barbary War Philadelphia while giving chase upon a pirate ship ran aground on an uncharted reef two miles off Tripoli Harbor.  Captain Bainbridge tried to refloat her by laying the sails aback, casting off the three bow anchors and shifting the guns aft. A strong wind and rising waves only drove her further aground.  They next dumped many of her cannon, casks of water, and other heavy articles in an attempt to lighten Philadelphia.  These attempts failed. They then sawed off the foremast in a desperate attempt to lighten her enough to refloat.  This also failed and Bainbridge, in order not to resupply the pirates, ordered holes drilled in the ship’s bottom, gunpowder dampened, sheets set afire, and all other weapons were thrown overboard before surrendering.  Philadelphia’s officers and crew became slaves of the Pasha.

Philadelphia was refloated by her captors.  She was too great a prize to be allowed to remain in the hands of the Tripolitanians.  A decision was made to recapture or destroy her.  The U.S. had captured a Tripolitanian ship Mastico, which was renamed Intrepid and re-rigged with short masts and triangular sails so as to look like local ships.  On February 16, 1804, Intrepid embarked Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, Jr. and a volunteer party of officers and men tasked with boarding and recapturing Philadelphia.  After determining that Philadelphia was unseaworthy, Decatur and his boarding party burned her where she lay in Tripoli Harbor.

Admiral Horatio Nelson of Trafalgar fame, known as a man of action and bravery, called Lieutenant Decatur’s action “the most bold and daring act of the age.”

Philadelphia’s anchor was returned to the United States on April 7, 1871, when the Pasha presented it to the captain of the visiting American sloop USS Guerriere.

A Sailor You Be

By Noel Payne

Have you felt the salt spray, upon your face?

Have you seen the porpoise at the bow, keeping pace?

Have you viewed sea birds, above the wake in flight?

Have you fixed on a star, at sunset burning bright?

Has there been a time, to save a shipmate?

Has the roll of the deck, ever kept you awake?

Has the vastness of the sea, left you feeling alone?

Has a foreign port, made you wish you were home?

If you have weighed anchor, from calm shelter.

If you have crossed the equator, at noon time swelter.

If you have stood your watch, on a pitching deck.

If you have made landfall, on the horizon a speck.

When you have secured the deck, for the night to turn in.

When you have mustered at sunrise, seen a new day begin.

When you have dogged down hatches, in a mountainous sea.

When you have known all these things, a sailor you be.

Grannyisms

By: Garland Davis

My Granny was born and grew up in the Valley of the Yadkin River in the 1870’s. North Carolina was in the throes of Reconstruction. She used stories of the Klu Klux Klan (her pronunciation) to scare young boys into good behavior. Life in the Yadkin Valley was primitive, not very removed from that of the pioneer Daniel Boone who moved from Yadkin to Kentucky a century before because it was getting too crowded.  Someone built a cabin about a half mile from his.  My Granny was a strong woman who bore six girls and three boys between 1892 and 1910. Most of her life was lived in log houses, some with dirt floors. Families lived on that which they could grow, hunt or trade for. My Granny was a resilient woman who knew how to make do with whatever was available.

Her father and mother (my great grandfather and grandmother) never married. They lived their lives in two log cabins across a wagon road from each other. My great grandfather was half Cherokee Indian and my great-great-grandmother forbade my great grandmother form marrying an Indian. I learned, many years later, that she considered illegitimacy a stigma. (I can hear her now telling me, “Go to the woods and get me a switch to stripe your butt with for telling the world you’re a bastard. It ain’t nobody else’s business.”) I always knew that I was her favorite grandchild. She always favored me, but I never knew why. I was her only illegitimate grandchild and I think she tried to protect me.

She learned plants and their uses as food and medicines from her pioneer mother and her Indian father. She often came in from the woods with plants and roots that she hung around the porch eaves to dry. My aunts often brought her things they collected in the woods. Relatives and friends came to her for potions and poultices to treat real or imagined ills.

She dipped snuff and before she lost her teeth chewed Virginia Twist tobacco. Raw tobacco was twisted into a curl and cut off to smoke or chew. I remember finding a burlap bag of twists after her death. Some of them were probably thirty years old. Aged perfectly and naturally, without chemicals. We shaved it off and rolled it into cigarettes. My friends and I smoked for almost a year on that tobacco.

She always had advice to give, which she did freely whether you wanted it or not especially if you were a young boy. She also bossed everyone who would listen around. As a boy, I considered her to be a fount of wisdom. She was forever telling us items of folk lore. I call these Grannyisms. I unbelieving of many things she told us and tested many of them.

Toads: My brother and I were tormenting a toad by poking its butt to make it hop. Granny, upon seeing this, said, “You young’uns be keerful, if you kill that hop toad, it will cause the cows to go dry.” We had to milk the two cows. This piece of wisdom didn’t work! We murdered hop toads for weeks trying to dry those damn cows.

Snakes: She always told us, “If you kill a snake, hang it on the limb of a tree or on a fence rail and it will rain in the next ten days. This one always seemed to work. I was an adult before I realized that North Carolina had a temperate climate. It usually rained within ten days anyway. She also told us that if you kill a snake, its mate is nearby. I spent many hours searching for “that other” snake. It was years later before I realized that snakes do not run in pairs.

Phase of the Moon: She swore on planting by the “moon.” She would rave at my mom and dad about planting the garden at the wrong time of the moon. I deliberately planted seeds at the “wrong” time and would show her my crops and say, “see it doesn’t matter.” She always replied, “If you had planted at the right time of the moon, them ‘maters would have been better.” You couldn’t win this argument.

Painters: As a little boy, she scared the crap out of me by telling me to stay in at night because a “black painter” would get and eat me. My mom also used the term “painter.” I didn’t know what they were talking about, but I was wary of the night. We had a neighbor who was a house painter. I imagined a mean black man with a bucket of paint and a brush who ate little boys. Again it was years later that I realized she was saying panther. For many years, there have been rumors of Black “Painters” (Panthers) in North Carolina, although none have been killed or captured.

Laxatives: She believed that to maintain good health a person needed to take a laxative periodically. She also believed that when little boys got into mischief, a laxative was needed to, in her words, “Work the meanness out of them.” Laxatives were applied to me frequently. It actually worked! After a purging, one didn’t have the strength left to get into any mischief or anything else.

Witchcraft: I cannot explain this one. As a young boy, I had numerous warts on my hands and fingers. My mom had taken me to the doctor but his solutions didn’t work. My Granny told her, “The next time we go to Yadkin, I am going to take him to a woman I know who can witch warts and get her to witch them warts off.” I think I was about four, I remember her taking me by the hand and leading me on a footpath through the woods to a dreary old log cabin. It seemed we went a long distance, but then again maybe not so far, I was just a little boy. There was an old lady there. My Granny told her she wanted to get the warts took off my hands. She gave the woman a burlap sack that she had brought with her. Payment for her services, I surmise. The woman took a string from a mop that was leaning upside down against the cabin. She sat me on the stoop of the house and hung the mop string around my neck. She then took my hands and touched each wart. She removed the string and tied a knot in it for each wart and hung it back around my neck. She took the string and carried it into the woods. A short time later she came back and told me that the spirit of the warts was in that string and soon the warts would leave to go look for their spirits. She said if I ever looked for or found the string, all the warts would return. Soon afterward all my warts disappeared, except for one on the second knuckle of my ring finger. I guess she miscounted and missed that one. I have had it all my life.

I don’t know how old I was when Granny caught me giving a lot of attention to my private parts. She called me a dirty little boy and I got a switching. She also told me that if I continued to do that, it would stunt my growth. I thought about that for a couple of days and that was when I decided to forgo a basketball career.

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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.

A Sailor Died Today

I have seen this poem around as “A Soldier Died Today” and as “A Veteran Died Today.”  I took an author’s license to change it to “A Sailor Died Today.”

He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the FRA,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And ‘tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we’ll hear his tales no longer,
For ol’ Joe has passed away,
And the world’s a little poorer
For a Sailor died today.

He won’t be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won’t note his passing,
‘Tho a Sailor died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell their life stories
From the time that they were young,
But the passing of a Sailor
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician’s stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Sailor,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Sailor
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Sailor,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Sailor,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his likes again.

For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Sailor’s part,
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he’s here to hear the praise,
Then, at least, let’s give him homage
At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:

“OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SAILOR DIED TODAY.”

Yesterday I wrote of inspections.  The following is the story of an inspection by my shipmate Pat Dingle.

“Pure Sex Sir”

By: Pat Dingle

I guess it all started in boot camp. It was the one thing all of us teenagers had in common. None of us knew how to clean anything, let alone do it the Navy way. Our training started on day one with the words “The right way, the wrong way and the Navy way” We learned the Navy way. I could clean a head better than I could tie a knot but then I had countless hours practicing one and rope exposure of only an hour or two. We assured ourselves that things will be much better when we get out of this chicken-shit outfit and into the real Navy. And in my case it was much better. The OI division head aboard the Yorktown was smaller than the one I cleaned in boot camp.

As an E-2 then E-3 those first two years aboard taught me to clean every compartment the OI division was responsible for. My teachers were 3rd classes and above and we new guys considered them pricks (until we made Petty Officer) but it was always a team effort and really no sweat. The only real advantage came from the fact CIC was never cleaned while we were at sea. First, it was too dark in there and second we couldn’t have any distractions while on duty. The downside was coming in port and turning on the overhead lights. The rubber coated deck would have gagged a maggot. Spilled coffee like layers of varnish, cigarette butts, ground in candy bars and things never identified, nor would you want to.

There was one space I was assigned to however that I really called my own. It was the passageway outside the starboard entrance to CIC. It was small, dog-legged, and not well traveled. The deck was linoleum, the bulkhead painted gray. There were overhead wires, cables, and a host of other objects I had no clue as to what they were. I had no need to know, I just cleaned them. The brass compartment label over the door leading into CIC read “Combat Intelligence Center”, a term left over from World War Two. I loved this space to clean as mine and mine alone. While on my hands and knees scrubbing and waxing the deck the other radarmen were very careful to step lightly or on paper I’d lay down. The Admiral’s jarhead orderlies would step anywhere like I was invisible as would a number of his staff officers. A common practice among the brass I guess. The Admiral himself walked through a few times while I’m working and as I recall was very courteous. So were all ensigns.

While preparing for an inspection by our division officer one day, I decided to make my space really mine. The only colors in there were baby shit yellow decks and the Navy gray we all love to this day. My space lacked pizzazz, color, something that would set it apart from all the other spaces aboard ship. In other words, it sucked. So I went out and found some paint and painted an eye bolt sticking out right at eye level bright, bright red. Boy did it stick out now. When my Chief, Division Officer, and a First Class with a clipboard came through later that day I snapped to attention, identified my space and reported ready for inspection Sir. Normally they would nod and keep on walking, tiny space, nothing to see. Not this time. As the 1st class screwed up his face and the Chief glared at me, the officer, Lt somebody, just stared at the bright red eye bolt sticking out like a stop sign. He then turned to me and dryly asked, “What’s this”? I replied “Pure Sex, Sir”……… Found out later I received a 4.0 on the inspection of “Mine and mine alone space aboard the USS Yorktown”.

Bring back memories guys? What was the space you called your own?

By:  Garland Davis

I was thinking this morning about all the hours of my life that were spent preparing for inspections.  Inspection is ingrained in a sailor from almost the first moment of Boot Camp.  There are white hat inspections, skivvy shirt inspections, gig line inspections, bunk inspections, locker inspections, sea bag inspections, laundry inspections, shoe shine inspections, zone inspections, Captain’s inspections, XO’s messing and berthing inspections, not to mention having my rectum inspected before I was permitted into the swimming pool at NTC San Diego.  A few other times I was subjected to an embarrassing and demeaning “Short Arms” inspection.  If you don’t know what that is, ask an old sailor, he will explain.

And of course, before I forget, not only were we subjected to inspections, there were numerous pre-inspections by each level of the chain-of-command.  For instance, if an Admirals visit is scheduled, spaces will be pre-inspected by the Section Leader, the LPO, the Division Chief, the Department Chief, the Division Officer, the Department Head, the XO, and the CO for weeks before the Admiral arrives.  Also, at least, two personnel inspections will be held, just to make sure the sailors are presentable in case the Admiral’s gaze happens to fall upon one of the crew.

How many times has one gone through this inspection drill, only to have the Admiral spend time in the Wardroom with the officers drinking coffee and then leave the ship without even a perfunctory walk through?

I remember the mantra on the FF’s, “If the Engineers are having an inspection, the entire ship is being inspected.”  I have seen all ships work put on hold to field day the entire ship because PEB, Ney Award, Medical, Weapons, Operations, and etc., inspectors are going to be aboard.  I still fail to see how the cleanliness of the Signal Bridge was going to affect the outcome of a PEB or Ney inspection.  Someone was always being inspected.  I have spent many evenings aboard, doing paperwork, to catch up on work that I should have been able to do during the normal work day instead of supervising a field day preparing for a 3M inspection

When I was in Midway, there was a pre-ordained route for showing off the ship to VIP’s.  To prepare for a visit, the route was cleaned, buffed and shined enough to dazzle any viewer.  The rest of the ship could look less like numerous hours had been wasted preparing it for inspection and no one seemed to care.  I remember when Admiral Brown was assigned as Battle Group Commander and was being given a tour of the ship.  The Admiral had once commanded the Midway so he understood the drill.  The after Galley and Mess Decks were on the tour route and, of course, we had everything sparkling.  I was standing by with the Food Service Officer when the official Party came through.  As we moved forward, the Supply Officer stopped them at the display of our Ney Award Plaque.  The Admiral congratulated the FSO and me.

The party was milling around and Admiral Brown leaned over and said to me, “You’ve got an excellent operation Chief, but tell me,” and pointing to the passage leading to the garbage storage room asked, “Is it still as fucked up in there as I remember?”

You could have cut the sudden silence with a knife.  I replied, “Probably worse Admiral.”

He slapped me on the back, laughed and said, “Then we won’t go that way.”  He said to the others, “You want the truth, ask a Chief.”

That was one of the things I loved about the Airdale Navy.  They were mission oriented.  Their primary mission was to “launch aircraft.”  Once that was accomplished, the primary mission suddenly changed to “recover aircraft.”  There wasn’t the continuous pressure to “Jump through hoops” to satisfy some inspector with a checklist.

In my first ship, USS Vesuvius, often Friday afternoons were devoted to Captain’s Upper and Lower Deck inspections.  During the three hours between thirteen and sixteen hundred, the CO actually inspected the ship.  Personnel Inspections were conducted at 0800 on Saturday mornings, inport. Personnel Inspections were also conducted in ranks on the quarterdeck five minutes before the scheduled departure of the liberty boat.  When the ship was inport, all hands were required to wear the Uniform of the Day, undress blues or undress whites, during non-working hours.

After leaving the Vesuvius, I went to a three-year tour in Yokohama, Japan.  By the time I returned to the fleet things like weekly inspections and shifting into the Uniform of the Day had been relegated to the dustbin of history due to the Viet Nam War and the tempo of operations. The subsequent changes to shipboard routine and the authorizing of civilian clothing for liberty and storage aboard by Admiral Elmo Zumwalt and the constant churning of the seabag precluded a return to prewar shipboard practices.

Talking with fellow retirees who either work for the Navy of for Navy contractors, the modern day sailor’s primary function is to prepare for one inspection or another.  I don’t know how much emphasis is given to learning and ability.

Perhaps, if the Navy returned to the concept of professional Petty Officers and Chiefs who were knowledgeable and proficient in their rating specialty and leave the touchy-feely programs to the officers we wouldn’t have ships aground on reefs, broken down in foreign ports, or unable to sail or meet commitments.

As much as I hate to say it, it seems as if the civilian manned MSC auxiliary fleet is the only branch of the Navy that is fulfilling their mission requirements.  Perhaps, they are not as hampered by the necessity of preparing for myriad meaningless inspections.

Now, I am not saying that inspections are unnecessary, but why can’t everything be inspected in one or two inspections instead of a myriad of continuing inspections.  Perhaps if Officers and crews were permitted to do their jobs, perform sensible drills aimed at gaining proficiency in fighting the ship, the fleet would be better served in that endeavor instead of striving to satisfy a check off box on a meaningless inspection.

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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.