THE WATCH
Aye mates, for many years this Sailor
stood the watch.
While some of us lay about our bunk
at night
This Sailor stood the watch.
While some of us were attending schools
This Sailor stood the watch.
and, yes even before many of us were
born
This Sailor stood the watch.
As our families watched the storm clouds
of war
brewing on the horizons of history,
He stood the watch.
This Sailor looked ashore and saw his
family
often needing his guidance but he knew
he must stay
Because he had the watch.
For over 20 years he stood the watch
so that we and
our fellow countrymen could sleep
soundly,
in safety, knowing that a Sailor would
stand the watch.
Today we are here to say the watch
stands
relieved,
relieved by those you have led, guided
and trained.
CHIEF PINA
YOU STAND RELIEVED, WE HAVE THE WATCH
BOATSWAIN STAND BY TO PIPE OVER THE
SIDE
"SHIPMATE GOING ASHORE"
"FAIR WINDS AND FOLLOWING SEAS"
Memorial Day 1985
Retirement Ceremony aboard USS
MASSACHUSETTS (BB-59).
A very proud, yet very sad day in my
life.
I've received numerous honors
and awards
during
my naval career,
but the greatest honor was the
opportunity
to wear the uniform of a
Chief
Petty Officer.
BUC Dick
Peters, USN, presents me with a
shadow box
including a flag flown from the USS
CONSTITUTION.
SIDE BOYS AND PIPING THE SIDE
Side boys and piping the side is a heritage
from the British Navy. It originated in the time of sail,
when captains visited one another at sea and
were hoisted on board in net baskets if the weather
was too rough to permit the use of gang
ways.
The officer-of-the-deck ordinarily summoned
from the crew several hands to assist the
visitor in making a landing on deck.
Thus, there came about the custom of having
"side boys" to meet officers.
The use of "side boys" in today's Navy is
strictly ceremonial.
MY FIRST MATE
My high school
sweetheart Carol, and
wife since 1961,
was duly recognized for her faithful
service by
CAPT MICHAEL A. ROSE, U.S. Navy
The Citation Read as follows:
KNOW YE, THAT
CAROL J. PINA
WIFE OF
CHIEF NAVY CAREER COUNSELOR ERNEST L. PINA, U.S. NAVY
HAVING COMPLETED HER TOUR OF DUTY AS
A NAVY WIFE,
IS AS OF THIS DATE, NO LONGER OBLIGATED
TO SPEND NIGHTS ALONE
DUE TO NAVAL DUTIES OF HER SPOUSE.
BE IT KNOWN, THAT SHE BE HELD IN
HIGHEST
ESTEEM AS A TRUE AND DEVOTED
NAVY WIFE. SHE IS HEREBY
TRANSFERRED
TO THE RETIRED LIST WITH THE
RANK OF NAVY WIFE RETIRED.
GIVEN UNDER MY HAND ABOARD USS
MASSACHUSETTS
(BB-59), FALL RIVER,
MASSACHUSETTS THIS 30TH DAY OF MAY IN
THE YEAR OF OUR LORD
NINETEEN HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE
/s/ CAPTAIN M.A. ROSE, U.S. NAVY
Commanding Officer
THE CHIEF PETTY OFFICER RETIREMENT CREED
You have on this day, experienced that
which
comes
to all of us who serve on active duty in
"OUR NAVY"
I say "OUR NAVY" because your departure from
active duty in no way terminates your
relationship.
By law and tradition, U.S. Navy Retirees are
always on
the rolls ever ready to lend their service
when the need arises.
The respect that you earned as "The Chief"
was based on the same attributes
that you will now carry into retirement.
You should have no regrets.
Do not view your retirement as an end of an
era
but rather as orders to a new
and challenging assignment,
to a form of indepedent duty.
Remember well that you have been, and will
always be,
an accepted member
of the most exclusive of all fraternities
-
that of the U.S. Navy Chief Petty Officers.
The active duty Chiefs salute you,
your retired Chiefs welcome you.
I wish you the traditional
"Fair Winds and Following Seas."
"A TRIBUTE TO THE NAVY WIFE"
The good Lord was creating a model of
a Navy wife, and was into his sixth day of overtime when
an angel appeared. She said, "Lord,
you seem to be having a lot of trouble with this one.
What is wrong with the standard model?
The Lord replied, "have you seen the
specs on this order? She has to be completely independent,
possess the qualities of both father and
mother,
be a perfect hostess to 4 or 40 with an hour's
notice, run on black coffee, handle every
emergency imaginable without a BuPers Manual,
be able to carry on cheerfully, even if she
is pregnant and has the flu, and she must be willing
to move to a new location 10 times in 17
years,
have a kiss that can heal anything from a child's
torn valentine, and have the patience of a
Saint when waiting for the ship to come in.
And, oh yes, she must have six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head, "Six pairs of hands? No way!"
The Lord continued, "Don't worry, we
will create other Navy wives to help her. And we will give
her an unusually strong heart so it can swell
with pride in her husband's achievements, sustain
the pain of separations, beat soundly when
it is overworked and tired, and be large enough to say,
‘I understand' when she doesn't and say ‘I
love you'. Regardless."
"Lord," said the angel, touching his
arm gently, "go to bed and get some rest.
You can finish this tomorrow."
"I can't stop now," the Lord
said.
"I am so close to creating something unique.
Already this model heals herself when she
is sick, can put up six unexpected guests
for the weekend, wave goodbye to her husband
from a pier, or runway,
and understand why it's important that he
leaves."
The angel circled the model of the
Navy
wife, looked at it closely and sighed, "it looks fine,
but it's so soft." She might look soft,"
replied the Lord, "But she has the strength of a lion.
You would not believe what she can endure."
"Can she think?," asked the angel.
The
Lord replied, "Can she think?
Why she can convert 1400 to 2:00 P.M."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran
it's finger across the cheek of the Lord's creation.
"There's a leak," the angel announced.
"Something is wrong with the construction.
I am not surprised that it has cracked.
You are trying to put too much into this model."
The Lord looked offended at the
angel's
lack of confidence.
"What you see is not a leak, he said.
"It is a tear."
"A tear? What is it there for?" asked the angel.
The Lord replied, "It is for joy,
sadness,
pain, disappointment, loneliness, pride and a dedication
to all the values that she and her husband
hold dear."
"You are a genius!" exclaimed the angel.
The Lord looked puzzled and replied, "I didn't put it there."
NAVY WIVES PRAYER
Dear Lord
Give me the greatness of heart to see,
the difference between duty and his love for
me.
Give me the understanding so that I may
know,
when duty calls him, he must go.
And Lord, when he's in a foreign land,
keep him safe in your loving hand.
Please stay with me and keep me strong.
Give me a task to do each day,
to fill the time when he's away.
And Lord, when he goes out to sea,
please bring him safely home to me.
Amen
THE FIVE MOST DANGEROUS THINGS IN THE NAVY
A Seaman saying "I learned this in boot camp..."
A Petty Officer saying "Trust me, Sir..."
An Ensign saying "Based on my experience..."
A Lieutenant Commander saying "I was just thinking..."
A Chief chuckling "Watch this shit..."
CHIEFS INITIATION
The initiation was held Thursday
night
into Friday morning.
I'm not even going to go into the amount of
shit I was covered in for that
period of time, but let's just say I still
can't get the sardine and fish oil
smell out of my skin or the taste of octopus
tentacles out of my mouth.
Anyway, I wanted to let you know that the
149
CPO's onboard CONNIE voted
me to be the LAST initiated Chief in
CONSTELLATION's
42 year history (we decom in 2003).
I was the first one into the initiation
process...and
the last to leave
(my knees are scarred, had a little
hypothermia,
and only puked three times!).
The CO came down at the end of the
ceremony.
As all my fellow selects were
already done with the judge and showering,
I was still in the "slug"
position getting abused by the entire carrier
chief's mess.
Our hard core engineering Master Chief told
me to get up and go tell the Skipper,
"Sir, you need to take those Eagles off or
get the hell out of here...
this is a chief petty officer function and
ZEROS are not welcome."
After all the crap I'd already been through, that's exactly what I did.
The CO looked at me, glared and said,
"Chief
select BURKE, you need to
stand down. This is MY ship and I'm
giving you a direct order to
retract your statement. I'm not going
ANYWHERE."
MMCM then handed me a pair of scissors and
said, "Cut the Mother Fu___rs
off if you have any balls at all!"
Well, what followed next made history, as I
became the only enlisted sailor on board
CONSTELLATION to cut both CNT collars
with Eagles off of the skipper
while at sea. 149 chief petty officers
reacted with loud cheers (sounded like
thunderdome on the 7th deck armory level).
The CO just glared and walked out of the room.
After that, we took showers and waited 4
hours
until our pinning ceremony.
I didn't know if the "old man" was pissed
or just toying with me. Several senior
and master chiefs approached me and said they
had NEVER
seen this happen in their 25 plus years of
naval service.
30 minutes prior to pinning on the flight
deck,
the Skipper approached me
and said he wanted to see me in his cabin
directly after the ceremony.
Of course, I obliged...he called me to
attention
"on the carpet", walked
straight up to me with his mutilated CNT shirt
(collars cut off) and
handed it to me on a hangar. In the
front pocket were his
eagles, a CO's coin, and a hand written letter
reading:
"Congratulations on being the LAST Chief to
ever be initiated on America's Flagship.
I will never forget you. Wherever you
go, whatever you do...Just know that I am a
phone call away if you ever need
ANYTHING.
Keep your integrity, stick to your
guns if you're RIGHT, and always put your
troops before you."
He then shook my hand and had a picture taken with him.
It was a huge day...well worth all the crap of the last 44 days.
The uniform will be worn with pride and
honor...to
represent those that came
before, inspire those who serve now, and
provide
a light for you in the future.
EMC(SW/AV) Jim Burke, USN
USS
CONSTELLATION (CV-64)
NAVY CHIEF.....NAVY PRIDE
UNITED STATES NAVY CHIEF PETTY OFFICER CREED
During the course of this day, you have
been
caused to suffer indignities, to experience
humiliation. This you have accomplished
with rare good grace and, therefore, I now
believe it fitting to explain to you why this
was done. There was no intent, and no
desire, to demean you nor to insult you.
Pointless as it may have seemed to you, there
was a time-honored and valid reason behind
every single deed, every single barb.
By experience, by performance and by
testing,
you have been this day advanced to
Chief Petty Officer in the United States Navy
- and only in the United States Navy does
E-7 carry unique responsibilities no other
armed force throughout the world carries,
nor which grants privileges to its enlisted
personnel comparable to the privileges and
responsibilities you are now bound to observe
and are expected to fulfill.
Your entire way of life has now been
changed.
More will be expected of you; more will
be demanded of you. Not because you
are an E-7, but because you are now a Chief
Petty Officer. You have not merely been
promoted one pay grade. You have joined an
exclusive fraternity - and, as in all
fraternities,
you have a responsibility to your
brothers - even as they have a responsibility
to you.
Always bear in mind that no other armed
force
has a rate or rank equivalent to that of
the United States Navy. Granted, that
all armed forces have two classes of service:
enlisted and commissioned; however, the United
States Navy has the distinction of
having four (i.e., Enlisted, Bureau appointed
CPO, Bureau appointed Warrant and
Commissioned). This is why you can
maintain
with pride your feeling of superiority
once you have attained the position of E-7
in the United States Navy.
These privileges, these responsibilities do
not appear in print. They have no official
standing. They cannot be referred to
by name, number or file. They exist because for
over 200 years the Chiefs before you have
freely accepted responsibility beyond the call
of printed assignment and have, by their
actions
and performance, commanded the
respect of their seniors a well as their
juniors.
It is now required that you be a fountain
of
wisdom, the ambassador of good will, the
authority in personnel relations as well as
technical application. "Ask the Chief" is a
household phrase, both in and out of the
Navy.
You are now the "Chief"!
The exalted position that you have now
achieved
- and the word exalted is used
advisedly - exists because of the attitude
and performance of the Chiefs before you.
It shall exist only as long as your
compatriots
maintain these standards.
So this, then, is why you were caused to
experience
these things. You were subjected
to humuliation to prove to you that humility
is a good, a great, a necessary attribute
which cannot mar you, in fact, it strenghtens
you and, in your future as a Chief
Petty Officer, you will be caused to suffer
indignities, to experience humiliation
far beyond those imposed upon you today.
Bear them with the dignity, and
with the same good grace, which you bore these
today.
It is our intention to prove these facts to
you. It is our intention that you will never
forget this day. It is our intention
to test you, to try you, and to accept you. Your
performance today has assured us that you
will wear your hat with aplomb, as did
your brothers in arms before you.
We take a deep, sincere pleasure in
clasping
your hand, and accepting you as a
Chief Petty Officer in the United States Navy.
THE CHIEF PETTY OFFICER'S PLEDGE
I AM A CHIEF PETTY OFFICER
IN THE UNITED STATED NAVY...
I serve my country and her people with pride and honor.
I seek no special favors.
I make things happen, and do the best I can do.
I am charged with a leadership role like no other in the world.
I develop junior officers and mold my sailors.
I acknowledge full responsibility for the actions of my sailors
because these sailors are the seeds of future Chief Petty Officers.
I live by the Navy's core values of honor, courage and committment.
I set the example.
I establish the standards of performance.
My sailors are students and I am their teacher.
I guide and influence the lives of these young men and women.
In the final analysis, I will determine the quality of these sailors.
They look up to me because I treat them with dignity and respect.
Because they need a leader, I am there for them.
After all...
I AM A CHIEF PETTY OFFICER
IN THE UNITED STATES NAVY
OLD CHIEFS
One thing we weren't aware of at the time,
but became evident as life wore on,
was that we learned true leadership from the
finest examples any lad was ever given,
Chief Petty Officers.
They were crusty bastards who had done it
all
and had been forged into men who
had been time tested over more years than
a lot of us had time on the planet.
The ones I remember wore hydraulic oil
stained
hats with scratched and dinged-up insignia,
faded shirts, some with a Bull Durham tag
dangling out of their right-hand pocket or a pipe and
tobacco reloads in a worn leather pouch in
their hip pockets, and a Zippo that had been everywhere.
Some of them came with tattoos on their
forearms
that would force them to keep their cuffs
buttoned at a Methodist picnic. Most
of them were as tough as a boarding house steak.
A quality required to survive the life they
lived. They were and always will be,
a breed apart from all other residents of
Mother Earth.
They took eighteen year-old idiots and
hammered
the stupid bastards into sailors.
You knew instinctively it had to be hell on
earth to have been born a Chief's kid.
God should have been given all sons born to
Chiefs a return option.
A chief didn't have to command
respect.
He got it because there was nothing
else you could give him. They were God's
designated hitters on earth.
We had Chiefs with fully loaded Submarine
Combat
Patrol Pins in my day...
hard-core bastards, who found nothing out
of place with the use of the word
'Japs' to refer to the little sons of Nippon
they had littered the floor of the
Pacific with, as payback for a little December
7th tea party they gave us in 1941.
As late as 1970 you could still hear a
Chief
Petty Officer screaming at you in bootcamp to
listen to him, because if you didn't, the
damn gooks would kill us.
They taught me in those days, 'insensitivity'
was not a word in a sailors lexicon.
They remembered lost mates and still cursed
the cause of their loss...and they were expert in
choosing descriptive adjectives and
nouns, none of which their mothers would have endorsed.
At the rare times you saw a Chief topside
in
dress canvas, you saw rows of hard-earned
worn and faded ribbons over his pocket.
"Hey Chief, what's that one and that one?"
"Oh hell kid, I think it was the time I fell
out of a hookers bed, I can't remember.
There was a war on. They gave them to
us to keep track of the campaigns we had
in country. We got our news from AFVN
and Stars and Stripes.
To be honest, we just took their word for
it.
Hell son, you couldn't pronounce most of
the
names of the villages we went.
They're all gee-dunk. Listen kid,
ribbons
don't make you a Sailor.
The purple one on top? Ok, I do remember
earning
that one.
We knew who the heroes were and in the final
analysis that's all that matters.
Many nights we sat in the after mess deck
wrapping
ourselves around cups of coffee
and listening to their stories. They
were lighthearted stories about warm beer shared
with their running mates in corrugated metal
hooches at rear base landing zones,
where the only furniture was a few packing
crates and a couple of Coleman lamps.
Standing in line at a Philippine cathouse
or spending three hours soaking in a tub in
Bangkok, smoking cigars and getting
loaded.
It was our history.
And we dreamed of being just like them because they were our heroes.
When they accepted you as their shipmate,
it
was the highest honor you would ever
receive in your life. At least if was
clearly that for me.
They were not men given to the prerogatives
of their position.
You would find them with their sleeves rolled
up,
shoulder-to-shoulder with you in a stores
loading party.
"Hey Chief, no need for you to be out here
tossin' crates in the rain, we can get all
this crap aboard." "Son, the term 'All
hands' means all hands."
"Yeah Chief, but you're no damn kid anymore,
you old fart."
"Shipmate, when I'm eighty-five, parked in
the old Sailors' home in Gulfport, I'll still
be able to kick your worthless butt from here
to fifty feet past the screw guards
along with six of your closest friends."
And he probably wasn't bullshitting.
They trained us. Not only us, but
hundreds
more just like us. If it wasn't for
Chief Petty Officers, there wouldn't be any
U.S. Naval Force.
There wasn't any fairy godmother who lived
in a hollow tree in the enchanted forest
who could wave her magic wand and create a
Chief Petty Officer.
They were born as hotsacking seamen and
matured
like good whiskey
in steel hulls and steaming jungles over many
years.
Nothing a nineteen year-old jaybird could
cook
up was original to these old saltwater owls.
They had seen E-3 jerks come and go for so
many years, they could read you like a book.
"Son, I know what you are thinking.
Just
one word of advice. DON'T.
It won't be worth it." "Aye, Chief."
Chiefs aren't the kind of guys you thank.
Monkeys at the zoo don't spend a lot of time
thanking the guy who makes them do tricks
for peanuts.
Appreciation of what they did and who they
were, comes with long distance retrospect.
No young lad takes time to recognize the worth
of his leadership.
That comes later when you have experienced
poor leadership or let's say, when you have
the maturity to recognize what leaders
should be, you find that
Chiefs are the standard by which you measure
all others.
They had no Academy rings to get scratched
up. They butchered the King's English.
They had become educated at the other end
of an anchor chain from Copenhagen to Singapore.
They had given their entire lives to the
United
States Navy.
In the progression of the nobility of
employment,
CPO heads the list.
So, when we ultimately get our final duty
station
assignments and we get to wherever
the big CNO in the sky assigns us. If
we are lucky, Marines will be guarding the
streets. I don't know about that Marine
propaganda bullshit, but there will be
an old Chief in an oil-stained hat, a cigar
stub clenched in his teeth and a coffee
cup that looks like it contains oil, standing
at the brow to assign us our bunks
and tell us where to stow our gear...And we
will all be young again and the
damn coffee will float a rock.
Life fixes it so that by the time a stupid
kid grows old enough and smart enough
to recognize who he should have thanked along
the way, he no longer can.
If I could, I would thank my old
Chief.
If you only knew what you succeeded
in pounding in this thick skull, you would
be amazed.
So thanks you old casehardened unsalvageable son-of-a-bitches.
Save me a rack in the berthing compartment.
Compliments of LTJG ROBERT B. KITT [CAPT, USN-RET] - USS K.D. BAILEY (DD-713) - (1947)
REFLECTIONS OF A BLACKSHOE
I like 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--the ship
beneath me feeling like a living thing
as her engines drive her through the sea.
I like the sounds of the Navy--the piercing
trill of the boatswains pipe,
the syncopated clangor of the ship's bell
on the quarterdeck, the harsh
squawk of the 1MC and the strong language
and laughter of sailors at work.
I like the vessels of the Navy--nervous
darting
destroyers, plodding fleet auxiliaries,
sleek submarines and steady solid
carriers.
I like the proud sonorous names of Navy
capital ships: Midway, Lexington,
Saratoga,
Coral Sea - memorials of great battles won.
I like the lean, angular names of Navy
'tin-cans':
Barney, Dahlgren, Mullinex, McCoy--
mementos of heroes who went before us.
I like the tempo of a Navy band blaring
through the topside speakers as we pull away
from the oiler after refueling at sea.
I like liberty call and the spicy
scent
of a foreign port. I even like all-hands working
parties as my ship fills herself with the
multitude of supplies both mundane and
exotic which she needs to cut her ties to
the land and carry out her mission
anywhere on the globe where there is water
to float her.
I like sailors, men from all parts of the
land,
farms of the Midwest, small towns of
New England, from the cities, the mountains
and the prairies, from all walks of life.
I trust and depend on them as they trust and
depend on me -
for professional competence, for comradeship,
for courage.
In a word, they are "shipmates."
I like the surge of adventure in my heart
when
the word is passed:
"Now station and special sea and anchor detail
- all hands to quarters for leaving port",
and I like the infectious thrill of sighting
home again, with the waving
hands of welcome from family and friends
waiting
pierside.
The work is 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 is ever present.
I like the serenity of the sea after a day
of hard ship's work, as flying fish flit across
the wave tops and sunset gives way to
night. I like the feel of the Navy in darkness--the
masthead lights, the red and green navigation
lights and stern light, the pulsating
phrosphorescence of radar repeaters--they
cut through the dusk
and join with the mirror of stars overhead.
And I like drifting off to sleep lulled by
the myriad noises large and small that
tell me that my ship is alive and well,
and that my shipmates on watch will keep me safe.
I like quiet midwatches with the aroma of
strong
coffee--the lifeblood of the Navy--permeating
everywhere. And I like the hectic
watches when the exacting minuet of haze gray shapes
racing at flank speed keeps all hands
on a razor edge of alertness.
I like 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 transforms
herself
in a few brief seconds
from a peaceful workplace to a weapon of
war--ready
for anything.
And I like the sight of space-age equipment
manned by youngsters clad in dungarees
and sound-powered
phones that their grandfathers would still recognize.
I like the traditions of the Navy and the
men
and women who made them.
I like the proud names of Navy heroes:
Halsey, Perry, Farragut, John Paul Jones.
A sailor can find much in the Navy:
comrades-in-arms, pride in self and country,
mastery of the seaman's trade. An
adolescent
can find adulthood.
In years to come, when sailors are home
from
the sea, they will 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 messdecks.
Gone ashore for good they will grow wistful
about their Navy days, when the seas
belonged to them and a new port of call was
ever over the horizon.
Remembering this, they will stand taller and
say:
"I WAS A SAILOR ONCE.
I WAS PART OF THE NAVY
BUT THE NAVY WILL ALWAYS
BE PART OF ME."
THE CHIEF
The Chief noticed a new Seaman one day and barked at
him to get over here.
"What
is your name?" was the first thing the Chief asked the new guy.
"John,"
the new guy replied.
The
Chief scrowled, "Look, I don't know what kind of bleeding heart,
liberal pansy ass
stuff they're teaching Sailors in bootcamp today, but I don't call
anyone by their first name.
It breaks down familiarity and that leads to a breakdown in
authority. I refer to my Sailors by
their last name only - Smith, Jones, Baker - that's all. I am to
be referred to only as Chief. Do I
make myself clear?"
"Aye,
aye, Chief!"
"Good!
Now that we got that straight, what is your last namd?"
The
new guy sighed and said, "Darling. My name is John Darling,
Chief!"
"OK, John, the next thing I want to
tell you is..."
USS CONSTITUTION GETS UNDERWAY
The USS
CONSTITUTION, fires its guns in salute while underway in
Massachusetts
Bay,
escorted by the frigate USS
HALYBURTON (FFG-40)
(center),
and the USS
RAMAGE (DDG-61)
(right), as the Navy's "BlueAngels" pass overhead.
Commissioned on Oct. 21, 1797,
CONSTITUTION
set sail unassisted for the first
time in 116 years on July 21,
1997.
U.S. Navy photo by JO2 Todd Stevens, USN.
THE CHIEF AND
THE GUNNY
An old Navy Chief and an old
Marine Gunny were sitting at the VFW
arguing about who had the tougher career.
"I did 30 years in the Corps,"
the Marine declared proudly. "I fought in three of my country's
wars.
Fresh out of boot camp I hit the beach at Okinawa, clawed my way up the
blood-soaked sand,
and eventually took out an entire enemy machine gun nest with a single
grenade."
He continued, "As a sergeant, I
fought in Korea alongside General Macarthur. We pushed the
enemy inch by bloody inch all the way to the Chinese border, always
under a barrage of artillery and small arms fire."
He further stated, "Finally, as
a gunnery sergeant, I did three consecutive combat tours in
Vietnam. We humped through the mud and razor grass for 14 hours a
day, plagued by
rain and mosquitoes, ducking under sniper fire by day and mortar fire
all night.
In a fire fight, we'd fire until our arms ached and our guns were empty,
then we charged the enemy with bayonets."
'Ah', said the Chief with a
dismissive wave of his hand. 'Lucky bastart, all shore duty, huh?'
THE K.D. BAILEY DD-713
by
Bailey plank owner Frank Olender
