Sunday, April 01, 2007

I Was a Sailor Once!

We received this in an email this morning and it immediately struck our "nostalgic nerve".

Without further ado, enjoy:
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sent by an old shipmate
SAM - the old GEEZER from WEEZER

I Was a Sailor Once!

Sharing a glimpse of the life I so dearly loved...

I liked standing on the bridge wing at sunrise with salt spray in my face and clean ocean winds whipping in from the four quarters of the globe. I liked the sounds of the Navy - the piercing trill of the boatswain's pipe, the syncopated clangor of the ship's bell on the quarterdeck, harsh, and the strong language and laughter of sailors at work. I liked Navy vessels -- plodding fleet auxiliaries and amphibs, sleek submarines and steady solid aircraft carriers.

I liked the proud names of Navy ships: Midway, Lexington, Saratoga, Coral Sea, Antietam, Valley Forge - - memorials of great battles won and tribulations overcome.

I liked the lean angular names of Navy "tin-cans" and escorts, mementos of heroes who went before us.

And the others - - San Jose, San Diego, Los Angeles, St. Paul, Chicago, Oklahoma City, named for our cities.

I liked the tempo of a Navy band.

I liked liberty call and the spicy scent of a foreign port.

I even liked the never ending paperwork and all hands working parties as my ship filled herself with the multitude of supplies, both mundane and to cut ties to the land and carry out her mission anywhere on the globe where there was water to float her.

I liked sailors, officers and enlisted men from all parts of the land, farms of the Midwest, small towns of New England, from the big cities, the mountains and the prairies, from all walks of life. I trusted and depended on them as they trusted and depended on me -- for professional competence, for comradeship, for strength and courage. In a word, they were "shipmates"; then and forever.

I liked the surge of adventure in my heart, when the word was passed: ''Now Hear This'' "Now station the special sea and anchor detail - all hands to quarters for leaving port," and I liked the infectious thrill of sighting home again, with the waving hands of welcome from family and friends waiting pier side. The work was hard and dangerous; the going rough at times; the parting from loved ones painful, but the companionship of robust Navy laughter, the "all for one and one for all" philosophy of the sea was ever present.

I liked the fierce and dangerous activity on the flight deck of aircraft carriers, earlier named for battles won but sadly now named for politicians. Enterprise, Independence, Boxer, Princeton and oh so many more, some lost in battle, and sadly many scrapped.

I liked the names of the aircraft and helicopters; Skyraider, Intruder, Sea King, Phantom, Skyhawk, Demon, Skywarrior, Corsair, and many more that bring to mind offensive and defensive orders of battle.

I liked the excitement of an alongside replenishment as my ship slid in alongside the oilier and the cry of "Standby to receive shot lines" prefaced the hard work of rigging span wires and fuel hoses echoed across the narrow gap of water between the ships. And welcomed the mail and fresh milk, fruit and vegetables that sometimes accompanied the fuel.

I liked the serenity of the sea after a day of hard ship's work, as flying fish flitted across the wave tops and sunset gave way to night.

I liked the feel of the Navy in darkness - the masthead and range lights, the red and green navigation lights and stern light, the pulsating phosphorescence of radar repeaters - they cut through the dusk and joined with the mirror of stars overhead. And I liked drifting off to sleep lulled by the myriad noises large and small that told me that my ship was alive and well, and that my shipmates on watch would keep me safe.

I liked quiet mid-watches with the aroma of strong coffee -- the lifeblood of the Navy permeating everywhere.

And I liked hectic watches when the exacting minuet of haze-gray shapes racing at flank speed kept all hands on a razor edge of alertness.

I liked the sudden electricity of "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations," followed by the hurried clamor of running feet on ladders and the resounding thump of watertight doors as the ship transformed herself in a few brief seconds from a peaceful workplace to a weapon of war -- ready for anything.

And I liked the sight of space-age equipment manned by youngsters clad in dungarees and sound-powered phones that their grandfathers would still recognize.

I liked the traditions of the Navy and the men and now women who made them. I liked the proud names of Navy heroes: Halsey, Nimitz, Perry, Farragut, John Paul Jones and Burke.

A sailor could find much in the Navy: comrades-in-arms, pride in self and country, mastery of the seaman's trade. An adolescent could find adulthood.

In years to come, when sailors are home from the sea, we still remember with fondness and respect the ocean in all its moods - the impossible shimmering mirror calm and the storm-tossed green water surging over the bow. And then there will come again a faint whiff of stack gas, a faint echo of engine and rudder orders, a vision of the bright bunting of signal flags snapping at the yardarm, a refrain of hearty laughter in the wardroom and chief's quarters and mess decks.

Gone ashore for good we grow humble about our Navy days, when the seas were a part of us and a new port of call was ever over the horizon.

Remembering this, WE stand taller and say, I WAS A SAILOR ONCE."




















Why I quit being a sailor!


Clint Joyce

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Thank you Clint, for writing this and thank you Sam [the old GEEZER from WEEZER] for passing it along.

My only addition would be those sterling moments Clint alluded to when he wrote, "...the serenity of the sea after a day of hard ship's work, as flying fish flitted across the wave tops and sunset gave way to night...".

We remember with great fondness the way men would collect on the fantail after evening chow, not in groups, not to talk, usually with a coffee mug in hand, and filled with steaming java, perhaps with a smoke. Some would sit on the bitts, or some handy equipment, the rest would stand. Some would stare at the foaming wake, others off to either side. But they were alone with the sea. It is a special relationship, found nowhere else but at sea. Each man used it for whatever suited his purpose there, be it introspection, prayer, contemplation, or whatever, but it was a very special time. After 5 to 20 minutes, we would wander off, one by one, to resume our routines of life on board a Naval ship at sea.

This may have been an unwritten tradition passed down at least from the British sailing Navy, maybe from farther back. Some of the better fiction writers about the Napoleonic era of the Royal Navy (Patrick O'Brien, Julian Stockwin, etc.) make small reference to the evening gathering on the foredeck/fo'c's'le, at first quietly, then later for entertainment, such as singing and dancing to sea chanties, and the telling of sea stories. Because the quarterdeck on a sailing ship was aft, and was the sole province of the Captain, and officers and crew on watch stations there, the men went forward. Now, with the quarterdeck having new meaning, and the fantail not having significance to the conning of the ship, the traditional gathering has moved aft.

We miss that now that we are ashore.

VN Vets

"With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan--to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations." -- President Abraham Lincoln

"Without a decisive naval force we can do nothing definitive, and with it, everything honorable and glorious." --President George Washington

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