Kevin LaCroix
Adventurist
My recruiter lied.
A week where we had blank flanges, aka breaded veal cutlets, for breakfast, lunch and supper.
A week where we had blank flanges, aka breaded veal cutlets, for breakfast, lunch and supper.
Memories of Military Life. Good, Bad or other, the funnier the better
- Thread starter Kevin LaCroix
- Start date
The best one that immediately pops into my mind was my Division Officer straight out of Canoe U. (Naval Academy) getting his picture in our cruise book all decked out in a kapok life jacket, old school army helmet and a boat hook waiting for us to go alongside the "mail buoy".
For the uninitiated, "mail buoy watch" is a form of hazing. Some how this moron that was going to "fix" the Navy, wasn't smart enough to think through an aircraft carrier steaming through the Mediterranean Sea and him reaching out with a boat hook to snag the "mail buoy" was a ploy.
For the uninitiated, "mail buoy watch" is a form of hazing. Some how this moron that was going to "fix" the Navy, wasn't smart enough to think through an aircraft carrier steaming through the Mediterranean Sea and him reaching out with a boat hook to snag the "mail buoy" was a ploy.
....and today he is the Chief of Naval Operations.
One morning somewhere between Australia and the Phillipines we awoke to the smell of steak and lobster.
Being haze gray and underway with an embarked Battalion of Marines (2/5 to be exact), my job as a Weapons Company Corpsman involved a lot of rack time as we had no real job underway as "ship riders" aka passengers on a Navy warship, USS Essex LHD-2. Daily routine was sleep/eat/PT/eat/sleep/eat or something like that. Rinse and repeat.
So we knew the routine onboard ship well enough to know that "surf and turf" was only served on special occasions. So my Platoon dressed quickly and hauled ass to the mess decks because there had to be a mistake, no damn way we were going to miss out on the cooks screw up.
So we had steak and crab legs and lobster for breakfast. No shit. It was an epic display of sport eating as we gorged on Opilio crab and lobster tails.
Debauched, we straggled back to the berthing for a game of spades followed by rack ops. Lunch time rolled around and well, nobody eats like grunts so we made our way back to the mess decks.
Son of a gun. Still serving surf and turf. The whole ship reeked of steamy lobster tails and crab legs. Clearly, there was a BIG screwup and no doubt some stupid cook had mistakenly gotten into the special reefer where they stashed the Commodore's chow. So we f'd up that galley. Again. More sport eating, this time gorging on as much steak as we could stand and chasing it down with baked potatoes and butter.
Feeling like the Michelin Men, we rolled back down to the berthing, this time skipping the spades tournament and going straight into food coma mode. Lights out, we slept through dinner. Taps, taps, maintain silence throughout the ship. Taps.
I wake up around midnight for a head call. The berthing smells like feet, huevos, and butt. Ding! Somebody flips the lights on in the berthing. Grumbles and groans. Time for Midrats.
After throwing boots and anything else within reach at the light switch operator, the Platoon is up and on the move again. The ship is deserted at night and we move quickly to the mess decks unimpeded by the usual daytime traffic in the ladderwells and passageways.
WTH? Still serving surf and turf. Well, what do you do? You hurry up and load your trays before they run out that's what! This time there’s shrimp so it’s more sport eating and back to the berthing to finish out the night.
Reveille reveille. All hands heave out and trice up. We're up again and morning routine means the three S's followed by PT on the flight deck. Get some. And time to eat again.
Surf and turf. WHAT? The mess decks are abuzz with hushed commentary... The cooks are going to get their asses beat if they don't cook something else... The balloon has really gone up, NFW way they'd be feeding us like this unless we were all going to die soon...
We’d been in “River City” (no comms with the outside world) for over a month so anything was possible... like mushrooms kept in the dark.
Mutiny was being openly discussed and then the 1MC came on... "Now hear this, this is the Captain. A main reefer has gone offline that was filled with steaks and seafood and due to the attacks on 9/11/2001 we will not be returning to port until all supplies are exhausted. Our orders are to remain at sea for another month. So enjoy your surf and turf gentlemen".
Surf and turf went on for 4 days and nights. I still hate lobster - especially the smell - to this day
Being haze gray and underway with an embarked Battalion of Marines (2/5 to be exact), my job as a Weapons Company Corpsman involved a lot of rack time as we had no real job underway as "ship riders" aka passengers on a Navy warship, USS Essex LHD-2. Daily routine was sleep/eat/PT/eat/sleep/eat or something like that. Rinse and repeat.
So we knew the routine onboard ship well enough to know that "surf and turf" was only served on special occasions. So my Platoon dressed quickly and hauled ass to the mess decks because there had to be a mistake, no damn way we were going to miss out on the cooks screw up.
So we had steak and crab legs and lobster for breakfast. No shit. It was an epic display of sport eating as we gorged on Opilio crab and lobster tails.
Debauched, we straggled back to the berthing for a game of spades followed by rack ops. Lunch time rolled around and well, nobody eats like grunts so we made our way back to the mess decks.
Son of a gun. Still serving surf and turf. The whole ship reeked of steamy lobster tails and crab legs. Clearly, there was a BIG screwup and no doubt some stupid cook had mistakenly gotten into the special reefer where they stashed the Commodore's chow. So we f'd up that galley. Again. More sport eating, this time gorging on as much steak as we could stand and chasing it down with baked potatoes and butter.
Feeling like the Michelin Men, we rolled back down to the berthing, this time skipping the spades tournament and going straight into food coma mode. Lights out, we slept through dinner. Taps, taps, maintain silence throughout the ship. Taps.
I wake up around midnight for a head call. The berthing smells like feet, huevos, and butt. Ding! Somebody flips the lights on in the berthing. Grumbles and groans. Time for Midrats.
After throwing boots and anything else within reach at the light switch operator, the Platoon is up and on the move again. The ship is deserted at night and we move quickly to the mess decks unimpeded by the usual daytime traffic in the ladderwells and passageways.
WTH? Still serving surf and turf. Well, what do you do? You hurry up and load your trays before they run out that's what! This time there’s shrimp so it’s more sport eating and back to the berthing to finish out the night.
Reveille reveille. All hands heave out and trice up. We're up again and morning routine means the three S's followed by PT on the flight deck. Get some. And time to eat again.
Surf and turf. WHAT? The mess decks are abuzz with hushed commentary... The cooks are going to get their asses beat if they don't cook something else... The balloon has really gone up, NFW way they'd be feeding us like this unless we were all going to die soon...
We’d been in “River City” (no comms with the outside world) for over a month so anything was possible... like mushrooms kept in the dark.
Mutiny was being openly discussed and then the 1MC came on... "Now hear this, this is the Captain. A main reefer has gone offline that was filled with steaks and seafood and due to the attacks on 9/11/2001 we will not be returning to port until all supplies are exhausted. Our orders are to remain at sea for another month. So enjoy your surf and turf gentlemen".
Surf and turf went on for 4 days and nights. I still hate lobster - especially the smell - to this day
Lobster = cock roach of the sea.
My brother embarked on the carrier USS Independence with us for a "Tiger Cruise" from Norfolk, VA to St Thomas US Virgin Islands. (A tiger cruise is when the Navy let male dependents/blood relatives ride the ship for the first or last week or so of a deployment, my understanding is that females are also allowed these days).
Anyway, my brother Brad checked aboard, I showed him where our berthing compartment was, my engine room, and the mess decks were, after that he was on his own. That kid went into spaces on the ship that I never saw in my 7.5 years on board. The second day that Brad was on board he comes down to the engine room to see me. He asks me why I eat on the mess decks, and goes on to tell me that he found a place that serves better food and it's on real plates instead of a tray. I realized that he's talking about the officer's Wardroom. I asked him if anyone asked him who he was or who his sponsor was. He said "nope", all they asked is what he wanted to eat.
That kid ate exceptionally well for the remainder of the week that he was on board!
My brother embarked on the carrier USS Independence with us for a "Tiger Cruise" from Norfolk, VA to St Thomas US Virgin Islands. (A tiger cruise is when the Navy let male dependents/blood relatives ride the ship for the first or last week or so of a deployment, my understanding is that females are also allowed these days).
Anyway, my brother Brad checked aboard, I showed him where our berthing compartment was, my engine room, and the mess decks were, after that he was on his own. That kid went into spaces on the ship that I never saw in my 7.5 years on board. The second day that Brad was on board he comes down to the engine room to see me. He asks me why I eat on the mess decks, and goes on to tell me that he found a place that serves better food and it's on real plates instead of a tray. I realized that he's talking about the officer's Wardroom. I asked him if anyone asked him who he was or who his sponsor was. He said "nope", all they asked is what he wanted to eat.
That kid ate exceptionally well for the remainder of the week that he was on board!
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jscusmcvet
Adventurist
In my last little bit with 2/2, I shared a room with 2 other NCO's, Scott and Dennis. We are Still good friends to this day. Dennis (DC) is my kids godfather and I am his kids as well. DC is known to be a grumpy fellow with a very dry sense of humor. He and our company gunny, GySgt Van Meter, did not get along. Oil and water. DC is a big guy, maybe 6'3" and at that time about 225. Over time the battle between gunny and DC went back and forth. We never knew what was next. DC passed down time by sketching cartoons of everyone.
One Friday afternoon, after being in the field all week (where DC had time to do some sketches) We had field day and the subsequent room inspection. When gunny arrived in our hatch he zeroed right in on the sketchbook that DC left sitting open on his rack. Gunny figured he had finally nailed DC on not being ready for something. He jumped in DC's face (like only an USMC gunny can) and screamed, "Carroll, what the fuck is this!" He was in full on DI mode, red face, veins popping, the whole thing.
DC replied... "Well gunny, that is a drawing of you, with an axe in your head"... DC said in that dry sarcastic voice. I could not tell if the gunny was about to explode in rage or in laughter, but he dropped the sketchbook and walked out of our room... and never said another thing about it. He and DC got a long a little better after that... I think gunny was not sure if DC had ideas of making the picture true (DC can be scary) or if he truly enjoyed the humor.
My favorite quote from DC came after we got out. He went to Mortuary Science school because, in his words, "The dead are the only people I can stand to be around"
One Friday afternoon, after being in the field all week (where DC had time to do some sketches) We had field day and the subsequent room inspection. When gunny arrived in our hatch he zeroed right in on the sketchbook that DC left sitting open on his rack. Gunny figured he had finally nailed DC on not being ready for something. He jumped in DC's face (like only an USMC gunny can) and screamed, "Carroll, what the fuck is this!" He was in full on DI mode, red face, veins popping, the whole thing.
DC replied... "Well gunny, that is a drawing of you, with an axe in your head"... DC said in that dry sarcastic voice. I could not tell if the gunny was about to explode in rage or in laughter, but he dropped the sketchbook and walked out of our room... and never said another thing about it. He and DC got a long a little better after that... I think gunny was not sure if DC had ideas of making the picture true (DC can be scary) or if he truly enjoyed the humor.
My favorite quote from DC came after we got out. He went to Mortuary Science school because, in his words, "The dead are the only people I can stand to be around"
My Division Officer was in a heated discussion with another Ensign when I happened along...my DivO saw me and called me over to his discussion and proceeded to ask me if sex was work or pleasure...my response was "it must be pleasure because if it was work you'd have me doing it for you".
<didn't really happen, but you never let the truth get in the way of a good sea story!>
<didn't really happen, but you never let the truth get in the way of a good sea story!>
Kevin LaCroix
Adventurist
At my first command, a Spruance class destroyer, I struck for engineering, as I was in Deck Div, and the ship needed another Machinery Repairman. I had been a machinist before the navy. My new Division Officer did not like me. Not uncommon for people not to like me. We were just back from the Med and had not gotten a fresh supply of non-rates(E1-E3's) so some of us were asked to do another 30 mess cranking. I foolishly agreed, but the supply office had me supervise the mess and dishwashers. Anyway as my 30 was soon ending, I reminded the DO. As I stated earlier, he did not like me. I had passed my E-4 exams, but was 3rd selection, my DO would not let me be frocked. On my 29th day, and no word on my replacement, I went to my department head, the Chief Engineer(ChEng) and asked if my DO had talked to him about my replacement as I was now officially an E-4(getting paid). This did not set well with the ChEng. He called the DO and my Senior Petty Officer to a meeting and wanted to know why one of his Petty Officer was in the mess. The ChEng as me to work the weekend, as it was Friday. My DO never spoke to me again. He was off the ship 3 months later. He learned do not piss of, or on, a Petty Officer.
jscusmcvet
Adventurist
And that is victory all in itself!
F250inTX
Adventurist
First Bunker Watch in Da Nang myself and my best buddy Johanie our first night. We were warned / told about some big banana rats by the guys we relieved. Big Bad Marines we were not skeered. Midnight and I wanted my turn to sleep and Johanie decided to sit outside the hatch. I turned lights out and boom a bunch of green eyes starring at me. Jumped up turned on light and called Johanie he came in. I told him and he did not believe me. So I slept my 2 hrs with light on. His turn... turned out lights and they were immediately back. This time I was in there too. So I grabbed my useless green issued flashlight. He turned the lights out... as soon as he did we saw their eyes... turned on my light and nothing... WTF? Long story short... the green eyes were actually the knobs on all the radios on the shelf Of course we never told anybody. Good times in bad situation 
Of course we never told anybody. Good times in bad situation 
Andy G
Adventurist
Last week of Coast Guard bootcamp...3 days before graduation...about 15 of us formed up in back of the squad bay to march somewhere (no recollection where). We decided to screw around and march like the North Korean military does.
That was fine for about 30 seconds until we heard laughing but couldn't tell where it was coming from. So, like all good men and women in the military...we decided to keep doing it.
For another 30 seconds. Until the Company Commander yelled (as they all do) at the top of his lungs "What in the living holy mother of f$*%&#g he!! are you doing!??!", and proceeded to beat us for the next 15 minutes.
He was standing on the roof, watching us the entire time.
It was a very rough rest of the day, as he made us march like that everywhere we went...which of course led to more beatings every time any other CC spotted us.
That was fine for about 30 seconds until we heard laughing but couldn't tell where it was coming from. So, like all good men and women in the military...we decided to keep doing it.
For another 30 seconds. Until the Company Commander yelled (as they all do) at the top of his lungs "What in the living holy mother of f$*%&#g he!! are you doing!??!", and proceeded to beat us for the next 15 minutes.
He was standing on the roof, watching us the entire time.
It was a very rough rest of the day, as he made us march like that everywhere we went...which of course led to more beatings every time any other CC spotted us.
I managed to get Bluenose, (both Arctic and Antarctic Circles), Shellback, and the Date Line in my career. I was an E-6 when I final made Shellback....this was back in the good old days when there was a REAL initiation...needless to say I took some abuse from my lower ranking guys that were already Shellback's.
travis.diller
Adventurist
The PFM (Pure Freakin' Magic) comments in another thread reminded me of another sea story (we were actually tied up at the dock at the time though).
We were coming out of the shipyard after a minor overhaul that included cleaning all of the tubes on the evaporators (they make fresh water from sea water, giant heat exchangers under a vacuum, heated salt water gets pumped into a vacuum chamber, some of it flashes into steam and is then condensed, recovered and sent to the fresh water tanks for the crew or feed water tanks for the boilers).
Anyway, my crew and I had figured out how to make the evaporators produce at least 110% of rated capacity (70,000 gallons per day) before we went into overhaul. I was guessing I could get 120% with clean tubes in all of the heat exchangers.
With the shipyard engineers on board running the show, the engineer running my evaporators couldn't make water to save his life. I kept telling him he needed to cut in a 1/4 turn on the brine water recirculating valve...which makes no sense (PFM), by cutting in brine I was adding extra salty water (brine) that was the discharge from the plant after we had pulled some of the water out of it to the feed water going into the flash chambers. In a nutshell, I was adding salt to salt water to make more fresh water...I don't know why it worked but it did...Pure freakin' magic!
The engineer finally left my engine room to go pout or something, I had my evaporator watch go cut in the brine recirc and we sat back and waited. We didn't have a full hour the first time we were able to check fresh water production, but the numbers looked good. A little over two hours later the engineer comes back down to the engine room. He takes a look at the logs, sees that production is over rated capacity and water quality is perfect. We sit there for another hour, get another set of readings, still good. Finally he looks at me and tells me he knew he could get it working.
My evap watch and I could hardly stand it as we led him to the lower level and asked him to check the brine recirc valve. I thought the dude was going to cry. He and I actually became pretty good friends after that.
We were coming out of the shipyard after a minor overhaul that included cleaning all of the tubes on the evaporators (they make fresh water from sea water, giant heat exchangers under a vacuum, heated salt water gets pumped into a vacuum chamber, some of it flashes into steam and is then condensed, recovered and sent to the fresh water tanks for the crew or feed water tanks for the boilers).
Anyway, my crew and I had figured out how to make the evaporators produce at least 110% of rated capacity (70,000 gallons per day) before we went into overhaul. I was guessing I could get 120% with clean tubes in all of the heat exchangers.
With the shipyard engineers on board running the show, the engineer running my evaporators couldn't make water to save his life. I kept telling him he needed to cut in a 1/4 turn on the brine water recirculating valve...which makes no sense (PFM), by cutting in brine I was adding extra salty water (brine) that was the discharge from the plant after we had pulled some of the water out of it to the feed water going into the flash chambers. In a nutshell, I was adding salt to salt water to make more fresh water...I don't know why it worked but it did...Pure freakin' magic!
The engineer finally left my engine room to go pout or something, I had my evaporator watch go cut in the brine recirc and we sat back and waited. We didn't have a full hour the first time we were able to check fresh water production, but the numbers looked good. A little over two hours later the engineer comes back down to the engine room. He takes a look at the logs, sees that production is over rated capacity and water quality is perfect. We sit there for another hour, get another set of readings, still good. Finally he looks at me and tells me he knew he could get it working.
My evap watch and I could hardly stand it as we led him to the lower level and asked him to check the brine recirc valve. I thought the dude was going to cry. He and I actually became pretty good friends after that.
BushHead
Adventurist
Yea.. saltwater is weird... Engineer should have known that. While technically salt water takes longer to boil, salt water absorbs heat faster, so at a certain point ( I think 20% salt heats 25% faster iirc) it would be faster. Saltwater is 3.5% salinity ( I think) adding Brine increased the salinity significantly allowing faster production... or something... brain is kinda slow these days...