In the Presence of Greatness

Having just finished my crewmember preflight, I was climbing into the aircraft one day for a routine mission off the coast when the ordinance man who was loading our depth charges and sonobouys casually asked me if I would like to live “on the beach” with him and a couple of other guys from the squadron. “Not sure, Russ, but I’ll think about it.”
“Ok. Have a good flight. Its a party out there man. Join us. We need someone to share the rent. You won’t regret it. Lots more fun than living in the barracks.” he said.
I wound up sharing a trailer with a another ordinance man from our squadron named Fred about 10 miles down the coast from North Island in Imperial Beach. Russ lived with a Warrant Officer in the adjacent trailer. Oh we did party. We prowled the local bars, preying on Westpac widows and anything else we could scare up in IB, sometimes closing the bar down at 2am when we struck out, sitting on the doorstep till they opened up again at 6am. Those two trailers were always rocking.
One night Fred and I were entertaining a couple of ladies in our trailer when Russ pokes his head in the door.
“Russ! You have the duty today. What the hell are you doing here Man?”
“Came to party my Man. No sweat. Just for a little while and I’ll be back before I’m missed.”
That is something I would never have done. The penalty is too great. Courtmartial and brig time for abandoning a watch. Major NO-NO. Our squadron enlisted were pretty wild. Three were currently guests of the Marine Corps for yelling insults at the Admiral as he was passing by on the adjacent golf course. And our squadron leading Chief was a hound dog; always after us. He had a mission from the new Captain to straighten us out. In short, he was a pit bull babysitter. He was all over us.We couldn’t even jump out the barracks windows anymore without him chewing on us for it. No way it made any sense to be off base on a duty day, but there he was. We got plowed that night, as usual. Russ passed out on the floor and Fred and I and our ladies retired to get some snuggles and sleep. Next days muster was at 0800.
“For shit sake. Russ is still passed out Fred.” I yelled pulling on my dungarees.
“Go on Chuck. I’ll get him awake.”
I took off for the base. Parked in the lot across from the barracks.
The Leading Chief was pacing back and forth outside of the front door. I squared my hat and checked my shirt buttons as I approached.
“Where’s Ackerson? You seen Ackerson?”
“No Master Chief. He had the duty last night. Have you looked in his bunk?.
“Of course I looked in his bunk Michael. What the hell do you think I’m doing out here? He’s not there!”
“Well, maybe he went to chow Chief.”
“Chow hell. Chow has been over for 45 minutes. Where is he?”
“Dunno Chief” I replied casually as I could walking past him into the building.
As soon as I was around the corner I hi-tailed it out the back door, across the field behind the barracks row and down to the main gate. I spotted Russ’s car in line waiting for the gate guard to pass him through.
He waved smiling out the window as I ran up to the car. He was still wearing his civvies.
“Russ! Chief Bannister is standing in front of the barracks waiting for you to show Man. “
“Hmmm”, he replied, scratching his chin.
“Ok. Thanks.” was his only response.
I ran back to the barracks and joined the gathering crew of sailors waiting to see what was going to happen. I knew what would happen if Russ rolled up to the barracks in his civvies. What did happen next was beyond belief and bordered on the edge of insanity. It was like it came from outer space. Something so out of the ordinary and foreign to sailors so used to the structured obedience of Navy life. Russ showed us a side of him til then hidden, which only lurked in the dark corners of quick and independent thinking; a rebellious part of his nature that only emerged in men within sight of the horrific. In battle timid men have thrown themselves on hand grenades to save their comrades; an action that not even they knew existed within their souls til the moment. Others fought with a ferocity never before experienced in the face of adversity. In the following moments Russ showed us what few of us realized we were capable of. He showed us how to survive in the face of overwhelming odds.
The front door of the barracks swung open and Russ stepped out, in full working uniform, hat on the back of his head, stretching and yawning, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. All of us were struck silent as the Chief turned to confront him.
“Where have you been! You had the Duty and were supposed to be in either your bunk or in the hangar. Where were you last night?”
Russ feigned total surprise at the Chief’s affront.
“I was in the barracks all night Chief. I just got up.”
“You weren’t in your bunk! Your bunk is fully made and hasn’t been slept in!”, the Chief yelled.
“No Chief. I slept in Kowalski’s bunk last night. I was tired after my watch and layed down with my clothes on. When I put my arm under my pillow something smeared my arm. Someone shit under my pillow Chief.”
“What! the chief was red in the face leaning into Russ’s dimunitive defense.”
“No shit Chief. I cleaned myself up and went to sleep in Kowalski’s bunk ‘cause I knew he is on leave.”
“Bullshit! the chief thundered as he barrled by Russ and through the doors.
All of us followed as the Chief charged down the hallway to Russ’s bunk. He lifted the pillow and there smeared on white sheets and dangling from the pillowcase was indeed a load of excretment. We couldn’t contain ourselves. Our legs gave out on some of us and collapsed in uncrontrolled laughter. One of us managed to get out: “No shit Chief?. Didn’t he really mean to say ‘Yes shit Chief’. Russ was standing there facing the chief and not cracking a smile. The Chief grew beet red to the point of losing it; like a ship crippled by straffing gunfire, a mighty squarerigger dismasted by chainshot from a full broadside. He stood there, shaking, fists clenched, staring into Russ’s worrisome and humble look, glanced at us rolling around on the floor and stormed out; a pipsqueek in the presence of greatness.