Periscope Liberty
LaMad!! As you can tell, liberty ports for a nuke sub were very limited. This is because of people's fear of nuclear power. Various political factions abroad would seize upon that fear and do their level best to promote riots and protest marches against a nuke coming into port. The diesel-electric submarines had no such trash to put up with, and as a result, liberty ports were plentiful and fun. A nuke would stay submerged for very long periods of time, and just to break up the monotony, we'd take a look through the periscope sometimes when at periscope depth. Just to glimpse the real world above. We just happened to be just off the coast of a country that spoke a language very much like Polish (but not), and not doing very much at the time so I decided to request periscope liberty. Put on your Imagination Hat.
I stood there, with my arms draped over the handles in typical submariner
fashion, and peered through the eyepiece of Number Two Scope.
It was the dead of night, black as the Ace Of Spades, black water, and
a bright full moon. It began snowing into the ocean with not a
breeze. Each crystalline flake glowed as a white ember until it
extinguished into the calm black water as I spun round and round with
the scope. I flipped a switch and transferred the images to all
of the monitors in Control. A hush came over all of the watchstanders
as I slowly turned with the scope. We'd never seen anything quite
like it before. |
Making Chief Petty Officer at La Madelena, Sardinia
The United States Navy has a certain propensity and predilection towards uprooting it's personnel every three years, handing out orders, and off one goes with only a destination printed on those orders. It's up to the individual to determine just where that destination is, and place his trust in land-based Personnelmen in providing transportation to that "new command". So here I was, just getting off Instructor Duty (still laughing as I turned in my Super Whompadyne hush-hush Top Security Burn-Yer-Eyes-Out security badge - remember?), with orders to the USS Lapon (SSN-661) in hand. To meet her in LaMadelena, Sardenia. Where ever that was. Leaving my family behind, I flew off to Rome. Their airport (which is ALL I got to SEE of Rome), was strange. Police strolling around with drawn machine pistols...people using pay phones and inserting large slugs into them every few minutes as they spoke...a different kind of place. Then I was aboard a tiny shake-your-teeth-loose airplane and off to this mysterious place called Sardenia. As it turned out, Sardenia is a very large island in the Mediteranean Sea just off the coast of Italy. It has no water. Water is shipped in small waxed cardboard containers and costs a fortune. Their markets have three prices for everything. It depends on who you are as to how much you pay. Bananas had cost me a dollar apiece. No Asian bartering system here at all. They do have nice Fire Coral jewelry there. For the single guys, it also has no women - only the marrying kind. A very nice liberty port. And the only one Lapon returned to time and again for the entire Med Run. Wonderful. Anyway, here I arrive at my new boat, only to discover that I'm out of uniform! In no uncertain terms. I had been selected for Chief Petty Officer, it seemed. Finally. After all of those pna's...(passed the test - not advanced due to rate quotas). My "sponser" was John P. Stams RMC(SS), who took this picture of my very first set of khakis. Unfortunately, I disremember who my shipmate with the beard is.
Out of long habit, I selected one place to "hang out". It's a good habit, for you get to know the local people much better that way. In this case, it was a pizzeria in the town of Palau. The couple who ran it spoke very good english, were about my age, and were personable and friendly. Prior to my chief's initiation (which I cannot nor will not go into, because it's a Chief thing), I was given a list of items to bring along to the initiation. I will say this - I was the ONLY submariner amongst all of the chiefs being initiated there in LaMad. Think about that - Lock And Load comes to mind...<grin> Don't bother emailing for that one - only other Chiefs know what that means.
Palau is a dead place as far as liberty is concerned. Except for
one week out of the entire year. Today's Special K-mart Shoppers,
for one week only! Yachts from all over the Mediteranean anchor
off the beach at Palau, and everyone turns it into a topless-type beach.
And that's ALL there was to it. After that week is up, back to normal
desolation again. My "sponsor", Chief Stams (RMC), and all others really had me going. Several times I was ready to tell them to forget it, and I'd revert back to First Class - and I meant it. They really did give me the business. I drove Stams crazy, of course. I take things literally. Here I was with this list of items. On that list was a set of rat guards. These are metal discs that are placed around mooring lines to prevent vermin from boarding a vessel. I'm very resourceful and an expert at cumshaw (DBFer, don't forget). So I had a difficult time getting the rat guards that I borrowed from a nearby skimmer down the hatch. Chief Stams came along, saw that, and lost it! He had to explain to me that all that was necessary was a pair of cardboard cutouts to fit around my thighs (don't ask, okay ?<smile>). Amongst other things that was required was a miniskirt. DBFer John actually obtained this! I went back to Palau, and my pizzeria friend had his wife go around with me to all of the local merchants, explaining, in Italian, just why this six-foot four inch 250 pound sailor needed a miniskirt to fit him. Without telling anyone, including this helpful wife, that this was for an initiation. What a blast! I can't remember when I laughed so hard and for so long - you should have seen the looks on the faces of those merchants! The initiation is an event that no Chief ever forgets. Ever. Never. It brings home what a Chief Petty Officer is all about. There's a lot of pride there. When I took over a division on a submarine tender, I saw, first hand, a guy wearing a Chief's uniform that had actually refused his initiation! He wasn't a Chief... |
