Appropos FbL's post on visiting a Navy Aircraft Carrier... a story of mis-spent youth.
When I was young and full of vinegar, living in Philadelphia, the Naval Shipyards were still open and we would get all sorts of ships in for small repairs or even long term dry dock for overhauls.
Of course, whenever these were in town, we would get an influx of sailors to the clubs and other locales. Out of these sailors, there were usually two approaches to trying to meet women: 1) bragging about being on this or that ship and their rank/position or 2) trying to hide the fact that they were sailors.
The last part was due to the knowledge that some girls would not date them or even talk to them because they were "short timers" in the area. And, whatever they say about modern morality, women still want to get married or, at least, a long term relationship. Sailors on shore leave were not good bets (unless their ship was in dry dock for two years for major overhaul, but even then it was dependent on them not being transferred to another ship or to a land base somewhere else in the US when their "sea cruise" period was over or, you know, the sailor not being married).
One evening, a group of friends and I were at a local club. The USS Constellation was in dry dock for major overhaul the last two years. However, she was at the end of her repairs and they were starting to test the catapults and other gear in order to take on her squadrons when she sailed down Norfolk way. So, a number of new youngmen had come to town to prepare for receiving them.
Our group was approached by several young men with deep tans overlayed by fading sun burns. They had "regulation hair cuts". Now, in the Navy, "regulation" isn't exactly the same as Army or Marines. High and tights are rarely seen. So, if you didn't know, you could possibly mistake the hair cuts as nothing more than "clean cut". Of course, it was 19__ and everything was all about the "grunge". Thus, regulation cuts stood out like a sore thumb. Still, you could pass yourself off as a civilian. From a distance, at least.
One of the youngmen asked me to dance. It was a nice slow song so we had plenty of opportunity to talk. I asked him how he got his sun burn. He said that he got it while he was working. I asked what his position was. He said he did welding. I said, "Oh, so are you a Hull Tech?" He said, "No," and started looking over my shoulder. I asked, "Air Maintenance or Mechanic's Mate?" He just shook his head.
"Well," I was perplexed. I'd never had anyone NOT tell me what their position was. I was certain, though, unless they were welding some top secret weapon on the ship, just telling me his classification or rank was not any sort of violation in peace time. "You ARE from the USS Constellation, right?"
Finally, he replied, "Yes, how did you know I was in the Navy?"
I said, "Well, there's that suntan/sunburn you're wearing."
"Yeah, but anybody could have that. We're an hour from the shore." I could tell he was really in earnest to get an answer about what had given him away as a "sailor".
"Your hair cut." I pointed to his ear. "It's not quite touching, you know."
He shook his head, "Half the guys in here have short hair cuts." True, we were in a country and western dance club so it was a little more "conservative". Then again, half the guys in there were "transplants" from other states brought here by the wonderful travel planners of the United States Navy. When I advanced that idea, he shook his head again. "No. You knew I was on the Constellation specifically." There were, after all, at least three other ships being repaired, two being dismantled for scrap iron and an untold number already or in the process of being mothballed.
Okay. The truth of the matter was, I was trying not to tell him how I knew what he did and what ship he was from because, well, it would be impolite.
He could not let it go. In fact, he was certain that one of this buddies had deliberately blown his cover for the sole purpose of doing him in so he wouldn't hook up with a girl that night when his buddy couldn't either. Everybody who was anybody knew that the Connie was due to embark in less than sixty days. Thus, girls with boyfriends were either breaking up or having long sad good byes or getting married as fast as possible. Wives were leaving town and going back to home base. Any sailor without a girlfriend just had his odds of meeting, dating or otherwise hooking up with a girl from town move from 50-50 to 1 in 1,000,000.
It was one of the reasons why these guys had tried to play off their "employment status" in the first place. This one was not going to be satisfied. In fact, he wanted to go start a fight with his friends who were staring at us expectantly. Which he interpreted as having to do with the give away of his "secret identity".
Finally, realizing that my reticense was about to start a bar room brawl, I gave in. "One: you have a sunburned sun tan. Two: you have a regulation hair cut. Three: you have a Texas or Oklahoma accent in a place crawling with Jersey guidos. Four:..." the music stopped helpfully at this moment, "four: the only guys I know who smell like they bathed in Old Spice and JP5 and are wearing clothes they stored in a gym locker for six months are sailors off an air craft carrier."
Needless to say, I did not get invited for a second dance, bought a drink nor thanked for my open honesty.
I take umbridge at the Guidos from New Jersey reference. Then again we didn't hang out in Philly, not with Wildwood, Sea Side, and the Point available.
We transplants made our own little community. The natives of the area just came to check out the wild life.
Besides that, don't make me tell stories about "youse guys", too. ;)
BTW, you did *not* see those helicopters flying below 500 feet along the shore, checking for marauding horseshoe crabs...
The only branch of the military that I did not have an opportunity to enjoy the company of to any great extent were the Marines. I have discovered that there are certain environs and times that are not conducive to a leisurely nor academic study of such specimens.
In short, Marines getting liberty off a six month cruise was kind of like experiencing the "Running of the Bulls".
Beyond that, I can't say I recall any helicopters taking low passes over the beach. However, there was this little building out near Moorestown that passed as a "Naval Air Station". I believe it's purpose was more like a radar station. About the third day of driving by the little gunmetal grey building with its big antennae rotating, I was really wondering what its purpose was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a cornfield surrounded by some nice big Jersey Pines.
As I rolled up to the stop sign, bee-bopping to some Poison, a jet fighter came screaming over the pines and down towards the little building before pulling up sharply and screaming away. I was right next to the building when it happened and I just about had to go home and change my pants.
Apparently, this little building was a sort of "way point" for the fighters who would then turn out towards the ocean. Just as apparently, they liked to screw with the crew and act like they were dive bombing it once in awhile
It doesn't mean I love you less baby.
@Fish, you make reference to the "Point", which one, Cape May Point, Somers Point or Point Pleasant?
@Kat, you talk of a rodeo, could you be talking about Cowtown? There are many things similar to the Moorestown Facility, one was south in Cape May County along Route 9. Now, they had a small Cold War Navy Base, it changed to Air National Guard, then became a combined base with the Coast Guard. This was an active duty "hot base". At the fall of the Soviet Union, everything chilled out to a regular status. Then came 9/11. This one base became white hot, quick. It is located, equal distance between the Pentagon and the World Trade Center. On that Tuesday, I was out for breakfast with some vets on that day, a customer came in and said a plane hit the Trade Center. One customer said, "You mean a little one." Reply, "No..." That was all I heard, I was already getting out of there. The rest of the vets followed suit. We all went to our individual homes, nothing was said. We biked home, about a mile. I walked in my house, my phone started to ring. I answered, a person I knew worked with the FAA, we both came from the same Military background. He was a master at understatement. He said, "Grumpy, it's bad, stay home!" Those 5 words was the total call. Kat, people don't realize everything that is here.
Thanks,
Grumpy
I learned all sorts of interesting naval terms. Like "call the ball". I learned the difference between a destroyer, an escort, a supply ship and various other interesting things. I remember, the last time I was there, looking at the desicated hull of the USS Forrestal (I believe) that was being decommisioned and sold for scrap metal to the Japanese to make razors (I believe that was the rumor). I thought: how ironic, that.
I had the opportunity to go aboard the Constellation on Family Day. We had "adopted" a youngman from Tennessee. We got a special tour including going up to the conning tower and sitting in the captain's chair.
I will admit that the height, was indeed, astonishing.
Other days, driving to work up I-95 pass the shipyard, as Her embarkation approached, we could watch the Connie catapulting big orange wheeled weights off the deck into the Delaware. I admit, though, on a foggy night, driving by the shipyard with its many shrouded ships was like driving by ghost ships.
The Connie was the last major ship to be overhauled at the shipyard. I recall also going to a few house parties on the base. I know exactly the conditions of the housing at that time. I remember being completely and unuterrably shocked. The linoleum was old, peeling and yellow. The side walks were cracked and growing grass. The foundations and walls were also cracked. The tile was hideous 70's avacado and yellow with mold. The play ground was barren, scattered with weeds and alternating brown patches without a blade of grass.
In all, it was very sad. It was a statement of the BRCA and that the last people posted here were living in ghetto project like squalor, courtesy of the United States.
Point Pleasant. The Tike Bar on the beach with fake palm trees. Well they weren't fake, just new ones had to be planted every year.
That little gray building was a training command for the Aegis systems. There was an entire Aegis superstructure built in a field at Moorestown, I know because i worked with the Bata Link comm systems between it and the P-3 Orions I flew on. It's still there, btw. out standing in it's field, so to say.....
And i NEVER wore Old Spice. My father did, and I shun it to this day ;) I prefer Lilac Vegetal, FWIW.....
Obsession was popular along with aqua velva and Lagerfeld Photo.
Well, time to go back to sleep,
Grumpy 2:49.00
Ahhhh, yes, the USS Moorestown -- we called it the Cornfield Cruiser.
What you saw was a simulation run -- jets flew specific airspeed flight profiles and we flew a month's worth of different altitude and maneuvering profiles with both OH-6As and AH-1Fs. They crunched the numbers together, jiggered the parameters and voila! -- Aegis pre-programmed countermeasures for sea-skimming anti-ship missiles, cruise missiles *and* ballistic missiles.
We got a nice plaque out of the deal and an invitation to see the results from the PM.
One of the reasons there are so many colognes, after shaves, perfumes, toilet waters,etc is that everyone's body chemistry is different. What smells good or bad on one body can be completely different on the next body.
Old Spice may be cliche, but on the right Sailor.............
Well, you learn something new every day! You know, also apropos FbL's post, its amazing what you get used to after awhile. I drove by that thing everyday for two years on the way to work and back. Eventually, the screaming jets became background noise that was just annoying because it drowned out the music.
But, there was always some new kid in town to share the experience with. ;)