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Once I Was a Navyman
by E.A. Hughes, FTCM
(SS), USN (Retired)
Hughes235@aol.com
I like the Navy. I like standing
on deck during a long voyage with sea spray in my face and ocean winds
whipping in from everywhere - The feel of the giant steel ship beneath me,
it's engines driving against the sea is almost beyond understanding - It’s
immense power makes the Navyman feel so insignificant but yet proud to be
a small part of this ship - A small part of Her mission.
I like the Navy. I like the sound
of taps over the ships announcing system, the ringing of the ships bell,
the foghorns and strong laughter of Navy men at work. I like the ships of
the Navy - nervous darting destroyers, sleek proud cruisers, majestic
battle ships, steady solid carriers and silent hidden submarines. I like
the workhorse tugboats with their proud Indian names: Iroquois, Apache,
Kiawah and Sioux - each stealthy powerful tug safely guiding the warships
to safe deep waters from all harbors.
I like the historic names of other
proud Navy Ships: Midway, Hornet, Princeton, Sea Wolf and Saratoga. The
Ozark, Hunley, William R. Rush and Turner, the, Missouri, Wichita, Iowa,
Arizona and Manchester, as well as The Sullivan’s, Enterprise, Tecumseh,
Cole and Nautilus too- all majestic ships of the line - Each ship
commanding the respect of all Navymen that have known Her - or were
privileged to be a part of Her crew.
I like the bounce of Navy music
and the tempo of a Navy Band, "Liberty Whites", “13 Button Blues”, the
rare 72 hour liberty and the spice scent of a foreign port - I like
shipmates I've sailed with, worked with, served with or have known: The
Gunners Mate from the Iowa cornfields; a Sonarman from the Colorado
mountain country; a pal from Cairo, Alabama; an Italian from near Boston;
some boogie boarders of California; and of course, a drawling friendly
Oklahoma lad that hailed from Muskogee; and a very congenial Engineman
from the Tennessee hills.
From all parts of the land they
came - farms of the Midwest, small towns of New England - the red clay
area and small towns of the South - the mountain and high prairie towns of
the West - the beachfront towns of the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Gulf
- All are American; all are comrades in arms - All are men of the sea and
all are men of honor.
I like the adventure in my heart
when the ship puts out to sea, and I like the electric thrill of sailing
home again, with the waving hands of welcome from family and friends,
waiting on shore - The extended time at sea drags; the going is rough on
occasion. But there's the companionship of robust Navy laughter, the
devil-may-care philosophy of the sea. This helps the Navyman - The
remembrances of past shipmates fill the mind and restore the memory with
images of other ships, other ports, and other cruises long past. Some
memories are good, some are not so good, but all are etched in the mind of
the Navyman - and most will be there forever.
After a day of work, there is the
serenity of the sea at dusk. As white caps dance on the ocean waves, the
sunset creates flaming clouds that float in folds over the horizon - as if
painted there by a master. The darkness follows soon and is mysterious.
The ship’s wake in darkness has a hypnotic effect, with foamy white froth
and luminescence that forms never ending patterns in the turbulent waters
- I like the lights of the ship in darkness - the masthead lights, the red
and green sidelights and stern lights. They cut through the night and
appear as a mirror of stars in darkness - There are rough stormy nights,
and calm, quiet, still nights where the quiet of the mid-watch allows the
ghosts of all the Sailors of the world to stand with you. They are
abundant and unreachable, but ever apparent - And there is always the
aroma of fresh coffee from the galley.
I like the legends of the Navy and
the Navymen that created those legends. I like the proud names of Navy
Heroes: Halsey, Nimitz, Beach, Farragut, John McCain, Rickover and John
Paul Jones. A man can find much in the Navy - comrades in arms, pride in
his country - A man can find himself and can revel in this experience.
In years to come, when the Sailor is home
from the sea, he will still recall with fondness the ocean spray on his
face when the sea is angry - There will come a faint aroma of fresh paint
in his nostrils, the echo of hearty laughter of the seafaring men who once
were close companions - Now landlocked, he will grow wistful of his Navy
days, when the seas were the largest part of him and a new port of call
was always just over the horizon.
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