by Chuck
Before they started the insane practice of billeting Waves on the upper deck of our barracks, we were always on the lookout for stray women. Heck, we were young sailors and seldom interested in anything else. The structure the Navy demanded was necessarily tolerated, but we were to a man, devoted to doing our job the best we could, and looking for women and partying. It was almost like a virus, always with us. Most of us cared for little else. Still, we were young, quick and in possession of talents and spirit totally unrealized and untapped by the Navy as the following two incidents clearly illustrate.
We were all lined up in front of our cubes for a Captains inspection. Maybe it was a new Skipper coming aboard. I barely remember. What I will never forget is the action and palaver going on in the cubes before and after the Captain’s eyeballs left each cube. Our cubes were formed by two double bunks surrounded by multiple lockers in an open space measuring about 50’ wide and 150’ long. Along the top and bottom walls were multiple windows, about one for each cube. The inspecting party had a view up and down the space between the opposite cubes of sailors in their dress blues standing at attention, awaiting inspection. From their point of view it couldn’t be noticed that there were a lot less sailors than supposed to be standing in front of their cubes. If they could have viewed us straight on it would have been obvious, but from the flank impossible to see anything but a sea of blues and dixicups all lined up down the hallway. I was taking my turn standing at attention when I heard one of my bunkmates open the window. I turned to see a young girl walking down the sidewalk by the barracks. “Hey. How are you Honey?” said one of the sailors half out of the window.
“Hi,” she replied. “I’m looking for Mike Thompson. Is he anywhere around?”
She was good looking and wore a blouse tied at the middle with pedal pushers that showed off her figure. Her sandy shaded hair was thrown back in a pony tail. Her pedal pushers were laced with sew on patches. Peace symbols and flowers in style in the early ‘60s. Hell. It was the early 60s.
“Well yeah. He’s in here somewhere. Come on in and we’ll look for him.”
At that he pulled her in through the open window.
“Have a seat for a while Hon., he whispered. “We’re in the middle of an inspection. As soon as its over we’ll look for Mike. Where you from?”
“Oh, I just drove down from L.A. I met Mike in a club and he told me he would show me around if I wanted to see San Diego. So just in town for a couple of days.”
Their conversation grew quieter and within another 5 minutes I heard muffled moans and turned to advise our two lovebirds between the sheets that they had about 5 more minutes.
“Hey man, they are two cubes down.”
“While getting dressed and straightening up the bunk she asked him if it would be ok if she stayed in the barracks till the inspection was over.”
“No Baby. You got to go, but we’ll look for Mike after the inspection.” and out the window she went and he and the other two cubemates joined me, smartly at attention as the Captain’s party approached. The Captain bounced a quarter on one of our bunks and smiled approvingly.
Yeah. It was the 60s.
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Before they started the insane practice of billeting Waves on the upper deck of our barracks, we were always on the lookout for stray women. Heck, we were young sailors and seldom interested in anything else. The structure the Navy demanded was necessarily tolerated, but we were to a man, devoted to doing our job the best we could, and looking for women and partying. It was almost like a virus, always with us. Most of us cared for little else. Still, we were young, quick and in possession of talents and spirit totally unrealized and untapped by the Navy as the following two incidents clearly illustrate.
We were all lined up in front of our cubes for a Captains inspection. Maybe it was a new Skipper coming aboard. I barely remember. What I will never forget is the action and palaver going on in the cubes before and after the Captain’s eyeballs left each cube. Our cubes were formed by two double bunks surrounded by multiple lockers in an open space measuring about 50’ wide and 150’ long. Along the top and bottom walls were multiple windows, about one for each cube. The inspecting party had a view up and down the space between the opposite cubes of sailors in their dress blues standing at attention, awaiting inspection. From their point of view it couldn’t be noticed that there were a lot less sailors than supposed to be standing in front of their cubes. If they could have viewed us straight on it would have been obvious, but from the flank impossible to see anything but a sea of blues and dixicups all lined up down the hallway. I was taking my turn standing at attention when I heard one of my bunkmates open the window. I turned to see a young girl walking down the sidewalk by the barracks. “Hey. How are you Honey?” said one of the sailors half out of the window.
“Hi,” she replied. “I’m looking for Mike Thompson. Is he anywhere around?”
She was good looking and wore a blouse tied at the middle with pedal pushers that showed off her figure. Her sandy shaded hair was thrown back in a pony tail. Her pedal pushers were laced with sew on patches. Peace symbols and flowers in style in the early ‘60s. Hell. It was the early 60s.
“Well yeah. He’s in here somewhere. Come on in and we’ll look for him.”
At that he pulled her in through the open window.
“Have a seat for a while Hon., he whispered. “We’re in the middle of an inspection. As soon as its over we’ll look for Mike. Where you from?”
“Oh, I just drove down from L.A. I met Mike in a club and he told me he would show me around if I wanted to see San Diego. So just in town for a couple of days.”
Their conversation grew quieter and within another 5 minutes I heard muffled moans and turned to advise our two lovebirds between the sheets that they had about 5 more minutes.
“Hey man, they are two cubes down.”
“While getting dressed and straightening up the bunk she asked him if it would be ok if she stayed in the barracks till the inspection was over.”
“No Baby. You got to go, but we’ll look for Mike after the inspection.” and out the window she went and he and the other two cubemates joined me, smartly at attention as the Captain’s party approached. The Captain bounced a quarter on one of our bunks and smiled approvingly.
Yeah. It was the 60s.
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