Any way, I was thinking back. PAYDAYS.......... God I could hardly wait, time to hit the beach. Head to my locker, change clothes, heading to the quaterdeck, stoped amidships by johnny and pop Jones. Hey bill want to shoot some dice? Well I've got a few minutes, what the hell. Down to the engine room we go. Well it's twenty minutes later. Up the ladder I go. BROKE Johnny and Pops are a lot richer, and I'm looking for someone to loan me some MPC ( five for seven and so on ) I can't ever remember to many day's that I ever climbed that ladder with any money. I can even remember telling those guy's that I wanted them to roll the dice out of a cup. I never knew anyone so lucky. Even so, I sure hope those guys are still with us. Oh yea, I sure hope I didn't leave oweing any of you guys any money.....If I did I do ask for forgiveness. Bill
BILL, I CAN REMEMBER SHOOTING DICE WITH SOME MINDIV 111 GUYS AND I LOST MY SHOES, BLUES PEA COAT AND CIGs & LIGHTER. I MUST HAVE WON SOME OF YOUR MONEY BECAUSE I HIT JONES AND GONZALES PRETTY HARD COMING OUT OF HONG KONG IN 64, FWD ENGINE ROOM AGAINST THE FWD BULKHEAD ON A BLANKET. THANKS FOR JOGGING MY MEMORY...MAC
Jimmy Choat and I had been tipping several hundred one afternoon, and decided to take a walk in the countryside. While tiptoeing through the walk down Yatakicho we noticed some of the fine Orange Trees needed trimming. Now Choat was a large man with rumored strength, and my idea if snapping off unsightly branches was met with gaffaws.
Jimmy thought that the trimming should begin about 11 inches off the ground.
Now we had company in the two debutants that had left the ball to help us with the needed liquid fuel to do this work. We got right too it, and were in the midst of our tenth or twelveth "trimming" when the Shore Patrol happened along.
Well Choat was not impressed with their obsevation, and summery- of our masterfull trimming. They in turn thought we should see an expert in the tree trimming business.
Jimmy and I did not believe the Shore Patrol Officer would be able, from his point in India Basin, to properly judge tree trimming; and told these gentlemen that,(or words to that effect.)
These gentlemen insisted that we see this tree expert, and because we seemed to be wavering a bit, helped us into thier jeep, and put us in seat belts-- or was it handcuffs--it has been a long time, and my vision was a little blurred, but I swear it was handcuffs. Yes now I remember because Choat was handcuffed from the back, and broke them in half in front of the Tree Specialist (Shore Patrol Officer) now this seemed to panic the bluejackets with the SP on the sleeve, and they soon placed us in a very stark holding pen. The rascals left us there until morning. Colder than Billy Hell!!
At Captains Mast Jimmy was warned that he could lose his crow for trimming trees and got 30 days restriction, and I had to go see that Marines on bread and water for three days.
Terry Dreschler and Bob Duensing escorted me to the Brig, and when one of the Jarr-heads got smart with me, Bob Duensing let him have it with both barrels.
Terry and Bob are both gone now, and if there is that better place I hope that I am able to thank them for sticking up for a pretty scared kid.
I still don't drink water. Jim Thynne
I remember New Year's Eve 1963 and I was (as usual) on restriction. Brittan and Couch felt sorry for me so they sneaked a tombstone of Sake on board, and we hoisted a few. They left for "unrestricted parties" elsewhere and left me with that tombstone, in after steering.
Mr. Burke had the watch, and as I proceeded to make history out of the vintage bottle of rice wine (a fine vintage-two or three weeks old) I proceeded to the quarterdeck to see if anyone had made a complete fool of themself yet.
No such luck, but I was quick to remedy that situation and make a complete ass of myself, I managed to awaken the officer of the day.
Mr. Burke mentioned that one should probably find coffee and a bunk, but in my wisdom, I proceeded to lecture him in the finer arts of sailoring. He threatened me with courts martial, so after a great deal of thought (several quick seconds) I went below and somehow found my bunk.
In the spirit of New Years Eve, I never heard a peep from Mr. Burke, or anyone else......WHEW!!!!! Jim Thynne
Signalman 1st class Aud was sitting in the captains chair skylarking and B.S.ing when he noticed over his shoulder the Captain. He then turned to the quartermaster (Marvin Grisso ) and reported-----Checked the captains chair --Chair in good working order, and then dismounted.----------This made the 1960 Readers Digest (humor in Uniform, Jim Thynne
In 1964, we were steaming in formation with 5 other MSCs on the open sea. A beautiful warm clear day. The Phoebe, second in line, directly behind the lead ship. Several hundred yards behind and to port was our squadron commander, a fiery little Irishman with a red beard and temper to match. Ken Sargent and I were on watch in the pilot house. He was on the throttles and I had the helm.
Mr. Haskell, the XO, was on the Bridge. He yelled down the voice tube that Mr. ?? was taking the con. Mr. ?? then said that he had the con. One minute later, he ordered left full rudder. I leaned out the door and looked all around and back to port, the squadron commander's ship was clearly visible, none of the other ships were maneuvering. I yelled up the voice tube, "Mr. ??, are you sure you want left full rudder?" He said,"YES I DO." I asked him again. He said, "DAMN IT, I GAVE YOU AN ORDER...DO IT ! "I said left full rudder," and I told Sargent to write in the log book, the time and that I questioned the order twice. We both signed it.
The ship leaned over, it seemed like we were at left full rudder forever, although it was just minutes. We could see the other ship moving up and we were on a collision course. The little Irishman was eyeballing the Phoebe. Then we heard someone running to the bridge.
Mr. Haskell screamed, "I HAVE THE CON, RIGHT FULL RUDDER!" I spun the wheel and we laid over quickly to starboard. You could hear deck gear and equipment crashing. We heard Mr. Haskell on the bridge screaming, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?" Mr ?? was mute. Then we were alongside of the other C Boat at roughly 50 yards...collision avoided, barely!
The little Irishman had his amplified megaphone on and we clearly heard every word. " WHAT IN THE G.D. HELL ARE YOU ASSHOLES DOING? SOMEONE'S ASS WILL BE IN THE MEAT GRINDER!!!"
When we were relieved, we were told that Mr. ?? would be sitting in the Captain's chair for his entire 4 hours on the bridge and remain silent from that day forward. If Mr. Haskell went below for any reason, Greene, QM3, had the deck and the con. On our next watch, we heard Mr. ?? on the voice tube and then Greene said Mr ?? SIT!!!
Johnson,DC3, was on the helm. I was working on some electrical gear in the pilot house. Every 3 or 4 minutes he was directed to change course...just a few degrees. This went on for hours. Johnson was bitching and moaning pretty loudly, "can't those guys keep this thing on course."
After his watch, Mr. Haskell called him up to the bridge. He asked Johnson if he thought it was so easy then he could take over for the next 4 hours. Johnson said he had never done it before, but he would give it a try. Johnson took charge for 4 hours, TWO course changes...as opposed to 30+ on the preceding watch. No one ever bothered Johnson after that.
I was a salty sailor when I came aboard the Phoebe. I had heard about all the little tricks, so no one could get me with the lengths of waterline, relative bearing grease or the mail bouy. I had been aboard a couple of years, and had played these tricks on some new guys. I thought I was all knowing.
We were underway, and the sonar was acting up. EM1 Nick, myself and STG2 Larry Jarrell were in lower sonar,just below engineering berthing, looking for the problem, when Larry says "I see the problem right here." Nick says he sees it too. So Gary goes to get a new tube for the pie section of the sonar. When I got to the storekeeper and asked for a "fallopian tube" for the sonar, he sent me to the ET for the spare tube. Of course the ET was "delighted" to inform me of my error. I guess we can all be had and humbled after all!
Gary Lambert EMCM Retired
I remember it being an early afternoon with a cloudy overcast sky and a promise of rain. Nothing much going on and I was thinking about a good hiding spot, figuring out of site was out of mind. Thought I would take a nap. I damned near made it to the pig locker when BM2 Speedy Gonzales spotted me and volunteered me to help tie up the USS Epping Forest, AKA Epping Maru, which was returning from sea.
So off I go... and returned a couple hours later. I had to stay behind to gather up the heaving lines and help secure the gang-ways. Returning to the Phoebe,there was Speedy, on the Quarter Deck waiting for me. He was hopping up and down and madder than a wet hen. Roberts !!!
Where you bean?
Now Speedy had a Puerto Rican accent that just about drove me crazy, but I loved to imitate it and would spend hours doing it. If I didn't watch my self, I'd start talking like him without thinking about it. I told him that I had to stay behind and help put everything away and clean up. Three times I told him. He didn't believe me.
He put me on report and I received an immediate Captain's Mast that afternoon. In the pilot house there was quite a gathering, with me in the middle, facing Captain Campbell. BM1 Buck Rogers was at my side and whispered, "They got your butt this time smart ass." I didn't say a word.
The Skipper read off the charges that Speedy had written up. Among other things,he claimed that I had told him to screw himself. The Skipper asked me how I pleaded. I told him that's not what happened at all.
After telling my story to Speedy three times and he still didn't believe me. I said it was better telling him to get screwed than saying I was out screwing termites in a saw dust factory ...with Speedy, there was always something lost in the translation.
Everyone there just lost it, they were all laughing and the Skipper was holding his sides and roared, "Red, get the hell out of here."
Marvin "Red" Roberts
The Chief and I were standing on the fantail, near the main engine room hatch. The Chief had his whites on,all ready to go on liberty, as soon as we tied up. DeAmicis had been degreasing the engines with trichlorothene and walked by with a bucket full of black slop. I was talking with the Chief and he was leaning over the rail breathing in the fresh air when DeAmicis tossed the bucket full of slop off the starboard bow! It hit the Chief right in the face and ran down his uniform, ruined the whole uniform, including the white shoes. The Chief didn't know what the hell happened until DeAmicis came down the ladder from the quarterdeck smiling and whistling, swinging the bucket. The Chief looked up at DeAmicis and flew into a rage....DeAmicis saw the Wrath of God in the Chief's face, he turned white as a ghost, I thought he had shit his pants. The Chief grabbed him by the back of the neck, as he hit the fantail, swearing and kicking DeAmicis in the ass, all the way to the stern. I ran to the port side laughing and choking till I thought I would die!!!
About 20 minutes later, as we were tying up, the Chief came out on deck with a totally clean uniform, walked off the ship without a word....on liberty!! (talk about McHale's Navy, that was it!!)
Submitted by Perry Clifford