New Homeport Island (10 page)

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 dead 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 realization 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.
Upon the word from the bridge, “Shift colors. Underway.”
 the tension of the ship eased we were to be underway for a week