Time for another...
...navy story. Been a while since I told one of them. So, the set up. I'm a navy senior chief (E-8) which is not that big a deal really. I include that info so when we get to the part about me bossing youngins' around you'll understand that I am supposed to. Trust me, I do not define myself by things like military rank.
So there I was, up in the Radar Room #2, with the new kid petty officer. I was walking through, scoping things out, looking at cleanliness and keeping an eye out for any red lights on the equipment. Red lights on radar equipment are seldom good. Yellow lights ain't too good either, actually. You just wanna see bunches of green. As Kevin Costner (that poser) would say, you want a FIELD OF GREENS. But I meander.
New guy petty officer (now to be called NGPO) was playing RISK with some of my other maintenance men. For you civilians in the bunch, shipboard sailors live and work onboard, so it is not uncommon for guys to play cards or watch DVDs or something in the workspace after hours. It's kinda encouraged, actually, because malfunctions tend to get noticed and repaired more quickly with the extra bodies around at night.
But NGPO was so new he wasn't qualified to do anything yet. So as I passed through, I looked over at him and said, "you may want to go down to combat and stand some under instruction watch. It'll get you started on quals and we're going to need you in the rotation soon." And I continued on my way through the other radar rooms, computer room, display workshop and back down to the goat locker to play some cards.
Fast forward through a game or two of spades and everybody is wandering out for a smoke break. I tell them to deal me into the next game but I want to make a quick tour of my spaces to make sure things are still OK. (When it's mostly headstrong boys working for you, you tend to put your own eyeballs on things as often as possible. Less suprises that way.) When I get to RR#2, there's NGPO still playing RISK.
So I say to him, in a stern but calm voice, "I thought I told you to go stand some watch." "No, Senior," he said, without a bit of smart aleckness, "you said I might want to. But I didn't really." Well, he actually had me there. So I smiled and said in a very fatherly type voice, "NGPO, I like to be polite. I want you to enjoy working for me. But you need to understand that when I give you a "suggestion", it doesn't really mean there's any element of free will in it for you. It's still an order, it just doesn't sound so harsh. Understand?"
Me and him got along fine after that. He was a good, hardworking kid. Especially after he undrstood the rules.
I have been a Chief since 1988. I tend to expect that when I say something, people get started on it. It's a simple system really, but it has served me and the navy well. And yes, I am slowly coming to grips with the idea that it won't work the same at my new civilian job. As they say, I HAVE A GREAT FUTURE BEHIND ME.
Well, there was the story of sweepers (a tale that includes foxtails and dustpans, NGPO, ladderbacks and a Commanding Officer) and one about the burn bag in the dumpster. But I must traipse off to dental (in the rain) so it will have to wait.
Can you believe that until fairly recently, sailors in uniform were not allowed to carry umbrellas? True. I always wondered how the powers that be came to the conclusion that it looked more professional to be all soaking wet. I always figured it was merely making us look too dumb to come in out of the rain. I guess that's why I wear an anchor, not an Eagle. Or more likely it was some Admiral's wife that said one day, "Vern, those boys look like idiots standing in the rain. Why ain't they got umbrellas?" To which the Admiral replied, "They don't? Huh, wonder why that is?" And with a two minute memo, regs got modified, ignorance (at least in this small matter) lay mortally wounded, and enlisted lives everywhere took a turn for the better. Well, it COULD have happened like that.
Elongation, out
Travelin' Ed
So there I was, up in the Radar Room #2, with the new kid petty officer. I was walking through, scoping things out, looking at cleanliness and keeping an eye out for any red lights on the equipment. Red lights on radar equipment are seldom good. Yellow lights ain't too good either, actually. You just wanna see bunches of green. As Kevin Costner (that poser) would say, you want a FIELD OF GREENS. But I meander.
New guy petty officer (now to be called NGPO) was playing RISK with some of my other maintenance men. For you civilians in the bunch, shipboard sailors live and work onboard, so it is not uncommon for guys to play cards or watch DVDs or something in the workspace after hours. It's kinda encouraged, actually, because malfunctions tend to get noticed and repaired more quickly with the extra bodies around at night.
But NGPO was so new he wasn't qualified to do anything yet. So as I passed through, I looked over at him and said, "you may want to go down to combat and stand some under instruction watch. It'll get you started on quals and we're going to need you in the rotation soon." And I continued on my way through the other radar rooms, computer room, display workshop and back down to the goat locker to play some cards.
Fast forward through a game or two of spades and everybody is wandering out for a smoke break. I tell them to deal me into the next game but I want to make a quick tour of my spaces to make sure things are still OK. (When it's mostly headstrong boys working for you, you tend to put your own eyeballs on things as often as possible. Less suprises that way.) When I get to RR#2, there's NGPO still playing RISK.
So I say to him, in a stern but calm voice, "I thought I told you to go stand some watch." "No, Senior," he said, without a bit of smart aleckness, "you said I might want to. But I didn't really." Well, he actually had me there. So I smiled and said in a very fatherly type voice, "NGPO, I like to be polite. I want you to enjoy working for me. But you need to understand that when I give you a "suggestion", it doesn't really mean there's any element of free will in it for you. It's still an order, it just doesn't sound so harsh. Understand?"
Me and him got along fine after that. He was a good, hardworking kid. Especially after he undrstood the rules.
I have been a Chief since 1988. I tend to expect that when I say something, people get started on it. It's a simple system really, but it has served me and the navy well. And yes, I am slowly coming to grips with the idea that it won't work the same at my new civilian job. As they say, I HAVE A GREAT FUTURE BEHIND ME.
Well, there was the story of sweepers (a tale that includes foxtails and dustpans, NGPO, ladderbacks and a Commanding Officer) and one about the burn bag in the dumpster. But I must traipse off to dental (in the rain) so it will have to wait.
Can you believe that until fairly recently, sailors in uniform were not allowed to carry umbrellas? True. I always wondered how the powers that be came to the conclusion that it looked more professional to be all soaking wet. I always figured it was merely making us look too dumb to come in out of the rain. I guess that's why I wear an anchor, not an Eagle. Or more likely it was some Admiral's wife that said one day, "Vern, those boys look like idiots standing in the rain. Why ain't they got umbrellas?" To which the Admiral replied, "They don't? Huh, wonder why that is?" And with a two minute memo, regs got modified, ignorance (at least in this small matter) lay mortally wounded, and enlisted lives everywhere took a turn for the better. Well, it COULD have happened like that.
Elongation, out
Travelin' Ed
That's what I'm about. Ramblin' Ed at 4:11 PM
4 comments:
Ed,
You ought to tell at least one sea story a week. I think it is sad that I have lost so much Navy vocabulary. When I started at Nikon my new boss laughed at me when I told her I needed to go up to the third deck... and today I read your current tale of NGPO and did a double 'think' when you mentioned foxtails.... :)
Pipedragger
The stories are in me and they got to come out. Eventually.
I stayed in 26 years. Don't know for sure, but I'm thinking I'll retain most of the lingo. Also, I KNEW you didn't do enough sweepers in your time. Foxtail amnesia just proves it, shipmate.
Ed
Avast matey, hoist the mainsails, and run me into a knee-knocker, but this lubber still doesn't quite grasp the concept of the poop deck.
Wouldn't that cause unsanitary conditions aboard?
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Hey! T'ling Ed, no wonder I think you seem pretty upstanding. The Gun Trash here ret'd as an E-8, also.
Probably woulda stayed longer than 20 yrs, but at 19 yrs I was given a choice. Go pack and get thyself off to the Azores for 24 months or hit the street. Here I am - been out on the street now for about 20 and never regretted it. :-)
I would not mind a port visit to the Azores myself as I have never tasted Azorian beer nor sampled the charms of Azorian women. I would, however, balk at 24 months of it. And it was to be unaccompanied, too, I'm sure.
Ed
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