I've been in a mood to write:

[SparrowHawk62]

First let me thank all of you who have offered prasie for my last bit of writting I submitted. Don't know what it is lately but I've been a mood to write. One of the easier things for me to write about are my days in the canoe culb. So for your comments, here's another:


The Chief

A short, chubby, feller with a greased back military haircut. His tired stature, clad in a well worn uniform of kaki. His collar insignias tarnished from years of wear. He wears no name tag, his first name is reserved for his wife and the crew calls him "Chief." Powerful arms and hands hang from his frame, scared from steam, grease, and endless work of days long past. Two large feet in his size eleven's, the ones he threatens to "Put where the sun don't shine!" His head, filled with sea stories, and the knowledge of how to get the job done without the book. Hard at work he never misses a beat, while gulping down a swig of coffee from his lifer mug. The mug a gift from Noah and the first cruise he made with him. At least that's what we tease him. Fearful only of God, for no man can equal him. Kind to a boot seaman, tough as a deck plate to a boot zero. Able to instill wisdom just with a stare. He's happy out to sea, respectful of Neptune and aware of the punishment the frothy blue can hold. On the beach, he can hold his own, both in liquor and a fist fight. In Liberty Whites, he's an impressive sight. A bread board from pocket to collar, not a one without some kind of device. Hash marks to the elbow, he's sailed since Moby Dick was a minnow! A leader, someone to emulate, to learn from and to give a great deal of respect to. Years later when memory allows, we will remember the man we simply called "Chief."

[Jerry D]

Great Story I knew some AirForce E-9's "Chiefs" that matched this description from the Air Force POV.

[Boats]

I admire the old salts as well. Some are polished and honed like precious stones. Other's have been beaten into submission but have no other home. The Chief's are the backbone of the Navy and they have put in the time and effort to make the Navy and its working class personnel what they are today.

The Chiefs always have time for their guys and they know how to ream out an ass when its out of line.

Some are jerks but the majority really care about their service and what it means to be a professional sailor. I wanted to make Chief and would have but after 12 years the new Navy was just a little more than I could handle.

The Navy is its best at war time - all the formalities are tossed out the window and the main goal is to get the job done - not all the piss ass crap that comes back during peace time.

On the line I recall 16 and 18 hours days for weeks before we have a break and the storms that we would get in and out of. Small in port breaks and a 3-day pass would all you would need for another 6 months at sea.

The salt water spray and the ship's constant motion through the water still linger's in my mind. Aircraft constantly taking off and upreps every three days. Always something to do and you never really got bored. Chow wasn't too bad but I've never been a picky eater.

I miss the old camaraderie and the stunts we used to pull. The old salts would resurrect old war stories and you'd sit there and listen to them hoping someday to have your own stories to pass on. Many are lost to the ages now and a few of us keep in contact once in awhile. We are now the old Navy and the old school and new ones have taken our place and will record their own history and stories to pass on. But the water will always be there and that keeps a bond for all sailors to reflect on.

Yeah I miss the beautifaul blue waters around Hawaii. I loved Pearl, that was my last duty station, I retired out of Pearl. I miss walking around the outside of the ship and seeing the ocean pass, and seeing the wake of the ship. I used to get such a calm feeling doing that. But man the ocean sure could reak havoc when it was bad weather.