another funny Navy story

[micmacman]

so i served aboard the USS Alabama SSBN 731 , a Trident Submarine , we never went to ports due to the nature of our weapons , so it was a big deal when we went to Pearl Harbor to Re-cert Mk48 torpedo

due to the draft we pulled we had to be tugged in dragging bottom and moored at Ford Island across from the Arizona memorial , at the time Ford Island was a landing strip and officers housing , we were to be ferried on and off the island by shuttle boat for shore duty , the ferry dock was on the other side of the island , we were told in no uncertain terms not to short cut through the center to get back to the boat

so a bunch of us , drunk made the last ferry back to the island , we decided we were too drunk to walk all the extra way around the island back to the boat , so across the airstrip we preceded , we just reach the center of the air strip and then the flood lights hit us , it was as if it were day time , if we went backward there was no cover so we scattered and ran for the officers housing

in retro spec shore patrol was waiting for us as they knew the last shuttle boat just poured us off the boat , so about 10 or 12 off us being chased through the officers housing by shore patrol , they were coming from both directions , i went up a tree , my buddy hid in a bush , any idea how hard it is to calm your breathing after a sprint ?

so now they are getting close , i could hear the family inside the house laughing as they watched the clown car rodeo unfold in their neighborhood , but i remember thinking if they are laughing their not narcing , boom they got Halverson , the bushs proved to be a poor choice , more laughter from inside the house prompted some chuckles from SP

they moved on not paying attention to the trees , i jumped down , threw op the double thumbs at the window , BOL from within the house ensued and i was off , all in all they had a 50% capture rate , as i left the boat heading back to Waikiki Halverson was standing petty officer of the deck watch , shore leave cancelled for the duration

[HOOKED ON HISTORY]

so i served aboard the USS Alabama SSBN 731 , a Trident Submarine , we never went to ports due to the nature of our weapons , so it was a big deal when we went to Pearl Harbor to Re-cert Mk48 torpedo

I met a Navy vet the other day who shared his story as t why he got out early for that very reason. The "it's not just a job it's an adventure" does not apply to subs. At least not the liberty / port of call adventure part.

[jamie5070]

I was on the Carl Vinson. Weapons and reactors kept us anchored off shore while they ran liberty boats, in and out. Officers first followed by senior enlisted. By the time we made it ashore, there were 2000+ sailors already there.
As a side story, My dad was stationed in Hawaii in '67. We lived in WW11 base housing on Ford Island until my folks bought a house. I remember the lines waiting to catch the ferry across as well as playing along the shore, by battleship row.

[Striker62]

I was stationed at NAS Barbers Point HI in 1983 and the squadrons routinely participated in RIMPACs with Japanese Navy counterparts. One of their officers stated he wanted to visit the Arizona Memorial and needed directions to get there. A squadron chief responded quite angrily “right where you sank it”. It was a very awkward moment.

I also visited Hiroshima in 1987 with the USS Ranger and probably had similar feelings as an American visitor.

[usabaker]

Ohhh yeah, police chases...

Mississippi 1978 someplace between Biloxi and Gulfport: I was at the time stationed in Gulfport, Mississippi at the US Navy Seabee base. It was Sunday, and although I normally restrained from going off base to drink on Sundays, I would indulge in partying this particular Sunday at the relentless urging of one of my unit buddies. My buddy, a young farm-raised southern boy, whose name I can’t remember as 46 years have passed and as hard as I try, names from that long ago seem to elude me, badgered me all morning to go with him to the “Cave.” The Cave was a nightclub, or the proper term in those days would be DISCO.

The Cave was located in Biloxi, about 13 miles from our base in Gulfport, and was, for whatever reason the drinking place of choice for us when we were not terrorizing the flyboys in their enlisted men's club at Keesler Air Force Base, besides, there was allot of local tail at the Cave that you didn’t find at Keesler. It would be past 9:00 pm before we would get to the Cave. There weren’t nearly as many people at the Cave this night which was not surprising since it was a Sunday. My buddy was not scoring as he thought he would be, so shortly after a couple of beers, a discussion ensued about who could out-drink who, of course, lead to a waitress setting up 5 shot glasses in front of each of us and watching as to very young and very dumb Seabees drink shot after shot until one, him, said enough not because he outdrank me but because he ran out of money, my funds were also dwindling at this point so I agreed that the challenge could wait for another day, by the end of the night I would be down to my last ten dollars.

While I sat at the table nursing the last beer I planned to purchase that night, my buddy danced the night way with a woman that, as near as I could tell through my slightly blurred beer goggles was just short of Neanderthal, he, however, thought he had landed Goddess Athena herself. Lucky for him this night, and that’s a whole other story, he would not “get lucky” and score. This would be of use numerous times in the future in ribbing him to get a laugh at his expense.

Broke, drunk, and skank-free, we wandered out of the Cave somewhere around 1:30ish AM Monday morning, some 6 hours before muster. Being broke left very few alternative ways to travel the 13 miles back to base, walk or hitchhike, both would be the answer.

In the 70’s it was still illegal to hitchhike in Mississippi, and those ‘good ol boys’ troopers lived to catch a couple of drunk Seabees wandering down hwy 90 hitchhiking. Getting arrested and tossed in the cage for a night was not an option that was open for me as having that happen would mean I would miss muster, be subject to a court marshal as I had seen happen to others, and a lot of other very bad military things to happen to me. So when hitchhiking, you just had to be sure that when you stuck out your thumb, no state trooper was where he could see you.

This works fine until you have a buddy who’s drunk and thinks the wrong thing to do is funny. The first three or four were uneventful, that lack of traffic plus the time of day made it hard to get a ride, after all would you pick up to guys wandering down the highway at 1:30am? Walking side by side down the highway, I looked over my shoulder and saw vehicle lights coming our way, I wait and could see that what was coming was a police car. I told my drunken buddy “it’s a cop car!” and at that point, he not only stuck his thumb out, he jumped out toward the police car as it was passing us. I knew as soon as I saw the brake lights come on we were in trouble. As luck would have it we were walking next to a 3 or 4 foot chain link fence that ran the length of a military retirement home or something of that sort, whatever it was it was government property and I grabbed my buddy and nearly tossed him over the fence once over the fence I dragged him under a large weeping willow tree that was about 50 or 60 yards from the fence. By the time the police officer got his car to where he could have seen us we were under the willow branches and out of site. Soon another police car came and blocked the entrance to the compound. The officers were ordering us to come out and looking around the only way out I could see would be to low crawl at an angle relative to the two police cars toward the buildings at our right. I told my buddy that we needed to low crawl toward the corner of ‘that’ building at an angle using the tree to hide us. We would be exposed at one point but should be okay I thought, if the idiot with me did as I told him.

Low crawling, a technique taught to us by an ornery drill sergeant who would yell expletives at us while running back and forth pushing our asses and faces into the mud would prove to be useful training this night. Our low crawl would take out over the grass, down a curb across the asphalt of a road, up a curb across another 30 yards of grass to the corner of the building were we ducked into the shadows and peeked out to see if we had been spotted. Running to the back of the building that through a hedge of bushes we ran in to a tall chain link fence with barbed wire at the top, we could see, or at least I could see, that the fences lead down to the highway. We followed it but when we got near the end we could see that the police had stationed yet another car within view of where we would come out. There would be no way to escape should we continue that route. So we ran back up the fence line until we came to a point in the fence where it intersected a residential street.

Removing my jacket and placing it in my mouth, I scaled up the fence and threw my jacket over the barbed wire and shimmied over, I instructed my ‘buddy’ to do the same. A dog barking I feared would give us away so I urged my ‘buddy’ along with a few expletives as well. As far as I know my jacket may still remain at the top of that fence today. We ran down the street until we hit an intersection that led to the highway, making sure we could not be seen by the police, we crossed the highway to the beach. Walking along the water’s edge so that we were far enough from the highway we would not be seen, my ‘buddy’ collapsed into the sand and didn’t want to move. It was only because of my threats that I would push on without him did he follow me, I was mad as hell.

After a couple of miles, I could see a hotel so we came up the beach and crossed hwy 90, I’m not sure what the hotel's name was but I know it was a nice one as the when we doorman saw us he told us we were not allowed to enter the lobby because my friend was wet and covered in sand. I nearly had to beg him to let me in to use the phone to call a cab. I had the number of a cab driver that I used regularly when I went out, so I called his dispatcher and ask them to have him pick us up at the hotel. When he arrived, we loaded in the cab and I said “All I have is $10.00 take us as close to the base as you can” as he drove off toward the base he said “so are those cops looking for you Bill?” I told him the story and he had a good laugh.

He ended up taking us all the way to the base. I was a grateful Seabee and I never went out with that ‘buddy’ again.

[MasterChief]

"...moments of stark terror."




I was running night check maintenance control. Located on 2nd deck aft, connecting with the squadron ready room, around frame 200 on the Starboard side, just above the waterline and inboard of the actual hull. It made a hell of a racket as the sub slid down the side of our ship, collision alarm sounding belatedly.
Couple days later we watched the Ship's (live) CCTV showing Navy divers peeling sheets of anechoic coating from our hull.
When we got back to Subic the hucksters on Magsaysay were already selling tee shirts...
Later they made us remove the sub symbol which the 'shoes had painted on the island (superstructure).