New Homeport Island

by Robert Lyon

  Out at the pier the pier sentry steps out of his booth and lights a cigarette. The crew is leaving the ship for the day with the exception of the duty section. The pier sentry is hoping one of his friends will bring him back a pizza. But the night life out on the town rarely affords the chance to squeeze in a pizza run for someone on duty.

  Pulling off the base in your car is time consuming; it’s a rush hour and a thirty minute wait to get off base. Radio’s blaring and the occasional shaken fist or impromptu dance party at parked cars. Back in sunny San Diego this lead to often lead

  to a precession to the nearest party spot, but here in Everett days without rain were few and far between.

  The local bars empty their tills and brace for an onslaught of potentially under aged and under paid service members. Back street innuendo from wanna be bad asses, shoving fights complete with hair pulling and the occasional ‘oh shit these two are for real’ are on tonight’s menu as well as a sultry come on from a young female service member…some of the males as well.

  I found myself in the Casbah a good bar for finding a one night stand, there wouldn’t be many squids there some sailors assumed on account of the name that it must be a gay bar. I far as I was concerned it just meant more fish in the sea for me. I sat drinking a Corona complete with the slice of lime; I drank there regularly so they kept it in stock. I watched the women come and go as the night passes looking for an attractive one showing those symptoms of hormone imbalance or sexual arousal, which unfortunately included a degree of confrontation. But so long as the confrontation was directed at her female companions it was

  ‘all good’.

  As I sat chain smoking and nursing my beer, I noticed

  Athena Williams stroll in with Amber Dallon and a few other girls from the crew. Girls night out and I had a front row seat. I walked over to the juke box, as a regular I knew it usually didn’t work because the bartender had a cut out switch and she only like country music, but she could handle the eighties music and that’s what I tended to play.

  The room was kept dim and I moved through the swirls of smoke back to my table undetected, the light above my table is burnt out and that is why I sit there. From across the room I watch the girls settle in and relax as the juke box plays ‘In the

  Mood by Robert Plant’ the bartender shoots me a look and signals just this one. I made sure I blended in as the girls get their drinks and find myself slightly startled as Charlie

  McCready says at an elevated volume, “Oh I know…isn’t he?” flowed by laughter. I thought to myself ‘this is going to be funny.’ Justina Mier said, “Did you meet that ensign?” Athena replied, “Selinas?” Justina said, “ya…what a douchebag. He was in senior chief Rickly ass about Freon we couldn’t account for.”

  Jennifer Hennely said, “Same guy crapped on me about an eductor we lost.” Jamie Russ added, “And I didn’t know how to operate the remote valve station…neither did Culd.” Jamie glanced over at me and said, “I think that guys looking at us.”

  The girls responded, “Which one and how’s my hair?” and laughed. Justina said, “Oh shit I know that one.” Athena called over, “hey you wanna buy us some drinks?” I glanced around and she replied, “Ya, you...get over here.” I went over and sat down and Athena said, “Oh shit Rob I didn’t realize it was you…buy us some drinks and get the hell out of here.” I laughed and replied, “If you really get drunk on one drink then we’ll do that.” Charlie interjected, “That isn’t what she said.” and

  Athena looked around and said, “Ya I did…didn’t I?” I said I’d get the drinks.

  As I passed around a myriad of bizarre mixed drinks

  Tammy Melad said, “I guess you really are trying to get laid, huh Rob?” someone blurted out, “Oh, he’s getting laid.” I laughed and sat down. Justina asked, “So, did you meet that ensign…Selinas?” I replied, “Ya he chewed Hudlow’s ass for not knowing how to do a PMS check he’s supposedly been doing for two years on the Low Pressure Air Compressor.”

  Charlie retorted, “Oh and you do?” I replied dismissively, “Ya, I

  do.” Athena said, “So how’s tricks Rob?” as she took a sip from her blue concoction. I smiled and winked.

  The following morning on the ship the word was passed,

  “Quarters Quarters all hands to Quarters for muster instruction and inspection.” I stood at morning quarters with a slight buzz and a big grin. Ens. Clarkson conducted quarters reading from the Plan of the day as to the upcoming circus fiasco we would find ourselves trapped in. We were told the captain was coming to our morning muster but he had other stops to make as well.

  As we waited GSE3 Gabriel Nosion told us a story about the sticky rice people. He himself was Filipino, the sea serpent people. He had a tattoo of an angel fighting a sea serpent on the back of a sea turtle. He said it was the sticky rice people that taught him how to ripen fruit with a bag of rice. His stories were comical and put everyone at ease. And when he spoke Tagalog it mesmerized us. Gabriel said, “Sa lahat ng mga dagat may mga lamang ang aming pangalan at walang iba. Sumakay namin ang mga wave hanggang sa susunod na tide at mananatiling namin sailors kahit na matapos namin ang namatay.”

  Gsm2 Scott Strutszer cocked his head with a day dream look and said, “Ahh..” Everyone waited for Strutszer to say something more, or at least move and he just stood there in a cloud. Gabriel eventually pointed at him while looking at Chief

  Pete and said, “Ya…that too.”

  When the captain stepped in he struck a stance and said,

  “Okay…” as he rubbed his hands together, “there are a few things to announce.” As the captain glanced around the room he did a double take when he saw Strutser. He said with a flutter in his voice, “What’s wrong with him?” pointing at Scott.

  Everyone shrugged and Shrotz said, “He’s just that way.”

  Artimus replied, “Whoever is sucking his dick down there had

  better be a girl.” Gillis was standing beside Strutszer and stepped aside, the captains view was obstructed because they were standing at the island table on the damage control side of central control station and the captain was still over by the

  EOOW chair on the console side.

  The captain stood there with us waiting for the apparent low grade seizure to end when Strutszer finally said, “Say something else.” Artimus responded, “Okay, simple version for you guys, just do what we tell you to.” Which startled Strutszer and he straighten his glasses as he blushed. Artimus called

  Clarkson and the chiefs over to him and with a brief pow wow they dismissed E-5 and below and within five minutes recalled

  Strutszer and Gillis since they had the highest rank in the forward engine room and were lacking an E-6.

  To compensate for the bad results to the ongoing inspection the plan was to appear to have no plan and develop one ‘on the fly’. They discussed the discrepancies that would be found as the inspection continued and how to appear to be caught unaware. Captain Artimus complimented them for being so far ahead of him in his own plan, and asked them to start developing a rebuttal or ‘come back’ when the hit lists were reviewed. As he left the space he asked Strutszer to get his prescription check and Strutzser replied, “I can still see okay… they only have to give me new glasses about every two years; and my eyes are getting better.” Artimus smiled and responded,

  “Glad to hear it, but that isn’t what I was talking about.”

  Artimus meet with Momus in the captains in port stateroom. Artimus said, “This part of the inspection cycle is mostly engineering. And…we don’t stand a chance, I would trust those monkey’s with a jar of peanut butter they would be sure to choke themselves.” Mormus laughed and asked, “What

  about the smart ones?” Artimus replied, “They have, or are soon to desert.”

  As the inspectors arrived at about ten in the morning they appeared well rested and in a positive mood, the crew however was demoralized. By navy standards that destroyer had been left for d
ead and over taken by chimpanzees. Within the Navy our reputations were already dead, the navy detailers writing orders for transfers and new duty stations would not send us anyone that had any measure of hope to accomplish anything at all within their service. We needed a change of the tides. Bad news travel fast and worser news travels almost at the speed it happened at. The inspection team had met with the squadron commander and there was an offer of concession, “The ship,

  USS Paul F Foster; Concedes it is not yet ready for its C.A.R.T.

  2 Assessment. The ships goal oriented demeanor has struck inconsistency in its methods between the Navy’s ideal and the safe functionality of a Spruance class destroyer. The ship will enter an intensive training period to bring itself back on course with Navy principles and conduct. Further, the Afloat Training

  Group and all commands involved are issued an apology from the captain and his crew for obstructing the timely completion of the Navy’s mission.”

  Chapter Three

  Helping an Angel

  We were pier side moored to the starboard side which in this case means bow out. The inspectors had left the ship and in their wake was disillusionment and despair. Winter had fallen away and warmer weather would greet us every morning as spring approached. We were a co-ed crew and hormone changes

  came with the season change, and love was in the air…well, lust was in the air.

  The warmth poured into the ship in the morning, the women were perfumed and the men were hungry. As we were greeted by squadron staff for intensive training and instruction;

  E-4 and below were sullen. The instruction had been: ‘work assignments will be verified as assigned to an appropriately knowledgeable person; and for E-5 and above there would be classes and seminars, taking not less than two hours of the workday’. The simple translation for E-4 and below was: “You will be working under chiefs and officers from squadron staff and your normal superiors will be sleeping in classes all day.

  Leading to those E-5 and above asserting they alone now know how to do the job, anyone else, E-4 and below for example, are just in the way. But hey…it’s the navy, just don’t re-enlist.”

  The captain called an all hands meeting in the helo-hangar.

  He announced to the crew, “Thank you, for all the fine work you’ve been doing I know your all working real hard and have your classes except for the E-4 and below. I would really like to see them apply themselves as well, and get some rank on their sleeves but that just hasn’t happened yet. From my meetings

  I’ve learned it’s the junior ranks we expect to get in there and do the actual physical labor and I was looking for any input at all I may get to help make that happen. It’s been suggested that working hours for them be extended, since they don’t have to do the classes.” There was a grown from the crowd and not one but all the first class petty officers looked around with profound concern. Hudlow held his hand up in the captain’s direction shaking his hand as if trying to stop a car as he looked around with full blown paranoia, once he saw EN3 Mier starting to cry and blurted out, “Sir, those…those things we said were just for

  your ears.” and with that we were done. I cried out, “E-4 and below dismissed resume your normal workday.” and we left the helo-hangar.

  Senior Chief Johann said, “See that is exactly what we are talking about.” To which GSE2 Ballen replied, “That’s right senior a good workmen, like us, always blames their tools!”

  GSCS Johann said, “Damn it, Ballen I told you there’s a way this is done and if you want to join them then go right the fuck ahead and do it!” Ballen responded, “Those guys are the ones doing the work all day while these bitches are sleeping in these

  ‘classes’ and I wouldn’t even call it a class, it’s two to four hours of looking for a scapegoat.” Artimus looked at Ballen and asked, “I’m asking you now, Have I been misinformed?” Ballen replied, “Yes sir.” Artimus said, “I don’t see how that help us much, but I now just want to speak with E-7 and above.” OS1

  Worksen interjected, “but, we didn’t say anything…he’s an E-5.

  Sir, the first classes have plenty to contribute.” The Captain slowly nodded three times and said, “I’ll hear that through your chiefs. Now E-6 and below you are dismissed.”

  Bobby Ballen left the helo-hanger red faced an unhealthy mixture of embarrassment and rage. As he left in a precession of blue shirts he asked while looking down, “You really just going to try and blame them?” ET2 Graw responded, “You saw what they just did, Ballen. How the fuck are we supposed to get anything done?”

  The captain watched them leave the helo-hanger and said to master chief Hauldbalm, “Those guys sure sound like a bunch of pissed off captains don’t they?” The master chief responded,

  “Yes sir they do, I saw who it was that called for the thirds and below to walk off and I’ll talk to him.” The captain shook his hand at the Master Chief and said, “That won’t be necessary, I

  know where he’s coming from.” The captain paused and scratched his chin, a posture the CMC had never seen before from him and he then asked, “Ah…command master chief...tell me, if you can, how those E-5 and E-6 could possibly get anything done without the thirds and seamen.” Hauldbalm replied, “Without the chain of command we are dead in the water sir, so I do see what you mean.” The captain sighed and said, “I don’t think you do master chief. Did you still work after

  E-5, or was it all delegation?” The Master chief responded,

  “I’m one year from retirement, the navy hasn’t made any damn sense to me at all since all this sexual harassment ‘tail hook’ shit started sir. You just tell me what you want me to say…” and he paused regaining his composure he continued with a sigh, “and

  I’ll say it.”

  Artimus pated Hauldbalm on the shoulder, “You’ve earned that retirement. Tell these chiefs I don’t expected E-5 and above to think they have made captain or that they are above working” and Artimus walked off. After the captain was at a safe distance

  Hauldbalm turned to the remaining chiefs there and one of the chiefs blurted out, “What the hell does he expect us to do?” The

  Master Chief said, “You heard him right…” The chiefs noded,

  “most of you were no better than a second class if not a seamen when I put on anchors for the first time. The one with zero stars on it…and I’m tellin’ you bastards to get to work or get your bitches to do it for you.” and with that the master chief walked away.

  Chief Carl uttered, “I’m close to retirement but not that close…I am however now closer to being an I.T. then a G.S.M.

  Shore duty…computers have been my thing for a while.” Rickly said, “Some of those guys don’t expect to have to ever work again, and the shit they’ve been talking about some of the E-4

  and below I know is bullshit. I guess the command doesn’t think anything of me either, I signal them that the guy talking is actually the skate…they just don’t get it.”

  Over the 1MC from the bridge the captain called out, “If I could have your attention please…this is the captain. Something we did get to in our meeting on the flight deck is we have an upcoming mission we will be getting underway for…ah, tomorrow. I look forward to the time we will be spending together under what looks to be fair to mild seas. I expect we will work out any kinks during this time.” after the captain spoke there was a brief delay followed by Mr. Mormus adding,

  “That is all.”

  For the rest of the day the First classes would sit at a distance trying to goat the thirds and the seamen into lashing out in violence while they were still on the ship and had the support of the other first classes. They wouldn’t have any help at all out on the town that night, they tried to imply the underway period was going to be rough on the low ranking since it had been revealed to everyone that at Second class petty officer and above you were longer expected to actually work…the captain said it himself. This led to multiple counts of ‘deck plate discipline’ and the rea
lization of many that it doesn’t follow rank, righteous indignation affords it’s victim a strength…it is easier to strike cleaner and harder when you know you are right. Guilt robs its victim of strength and is a defeat in itself.

  That day…that reality was proved. Several chiefs returned to the chief’s mess bloody at the nose, first classes retreated to any area of the ship that would not result in an ass beating for them in particular. At the end of the day they fought their way through their berthings or waited for someone to check that the coast was clear. The captain watched the ships brow as the crew

  departed. Mr. Mormus joined him on the bridge wing Artimus looked over at him and asked, “You sure this bridge wing can hold both of our weights?...damn near lost the ship today.”

  Mormus looked at the brow and said, “I’m just hoping to make it to my car.”

  The following day the first classes at quarters issued an apology and stated they had made the mistake of including the second classes with them and understood that it detracted from them so much that the ‘little rebellion’ was absolutely necessary.

  The reply was actually issued from the division officers; they had had a meeting at the captain’s house that night and reviewed the actual performance roles of those in their divisions. The division officers warned the first classes to stay the hell out of their way and out of our way as well.

  The rest of the day the ‘elitists’ as they had been labeled by several junior officers walked about the ship tending to what duties they could knowing an ass kicking might be right around the corner, and the chief petty officers didn’t leave the mess except for the CMC looking to make sure no one was still homicidal, and trying to make peace. That attention worked for some of the E-4 and below, with a few empty promises and platitudes, and with that the ‘little rebellion’ was renamed ‘dirty laundry day’ it seems the majority of merit the first class petty officers were using to make their stance had actually been the accomplishments of the E-4 and below. The E-5 were now to be their scapegoats but the thirds and below wouldn’t accept that either, the chain of command turned upside down and authority rested solely on those with the ability to affect actual results rather than excuses.