Sea Stories, Tales from Off Limit Places, & Scuttlebutt Rumor: The Chronicles of a US Navy Sailor, #1

By D. Lamonica

From 1990 to 2014, Senior Chief Petty Officer (Retired) Deric Tyrrell tells over fifty unique and true stories from his time in the United States Navy. From boot camp to retirement, he touches every subject from sea life, sex, infidelity, homosexuals, stealing, alcohol, overseas prostitution, navy recruiting, waste fraud and abuse of the American tax payer, and a whole host of other topics that is the soap opera of the US Navy. What happened to the sailor who disappeared onboard when the ship was underway? What happens when you recruit a person from Riker's Island Prison? These and many other questions are answered through these one of a kind stories. So, set sail and begin as he tells you Sea Stories, Tales from Off Limit Places, and Scuttlebutt Rumor. What happens at sea, stays at sea.         

     

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Kang, LLC.
• Release date: Jan 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386940173

Book preview

1.

Sailors Do Some Crazy Shit

My time onboard my first ship the Scott allowed me to witness a lot of the craziness sailors did throughout my time onboard. I wouldn’t put it past a sailor to do something off the wall because I have witnessed a lot of things that would amount to a good laugh and a memory that you would remember until the day you left this earth. Some of the situations these sailors were involved in were serious enough for that person to be placed on restriction to possibly being discharged from the Navy. The following paragraphs tell a few stories that were so short, they didn’t get a separate heading of their own.

After the Scott departed from a port visit in Turkey, three sailors were outside the barbershop waiting in line for a haircut. They were talking candidly about how they had taken a block of Turkish hash and hidden it inside a ventilation duct in a space onboard ship. Unbeknownst to these devious sailors, there was another sailor on the other side of the passageway conducting planned maintenance who overheard the conversation. The sailor that overheard the three sailors talking about stashing the block of Turkish hash in the ventilation duct immediately reported what he had heard. The three sailors were rounded up for questioning and investigated. The Turkish hash was found nicely hidden in a ventilation duct in a space rarely traveled. All three sailors were written up and sent to Captain’s Mast. All three sailors were awarded restriction to the ship for thirty days, half months pay times two, and processed for Dishonorable Discharge from the Navy. Scuttlebutt rumor said the block was enough to make a drug lord proud. The block of Turkish hash was enough to be called trafficking. Well, I guess the job prospects for being a drug dealer are out now. If they had kept their mouths shut, they might have succeeded with their plans to bring the hash back to The States and make a small fortune in the process.

Buckett told me to come to his locker down in berthing one day. This aisle of berthing was known to all as ‘The Ghetto’ because most of the guys that lived down there were some of the ship’s most notorious sailors who usually got in trouble. Buckett opened his standup locker and pulled a .357 Magnum out of a plastic bag. Better than that, Tipp showed me a sawed-off shotgun onboard one day that was in his stand-up locker. These guys were nuts. If there was a locker search at any time they would have been toast. Around the same time that Buckett showed me his gun onboard ship, I was dating a female who had a girlfriend Buckett tried to impress. During a night out at the club and heavy drinking, Buckett became so intoxicated, he flashed his gun at some real ‘Geez’ from the streets outside the bar. Too drunk to pay attention to what was going on around him, Buckett was stripped of his gun from behind by someone. Having his own gun stripped out of his hands and brandished at him outside the bar, Buckett and the girls ran and jumped in the bushes. Luckily, the only thing that happened was Buckett’s gun being taken from him and his pride taking a dive. It could have been a whole lot worse. The girls came back to the apartment crying and hysterical from the night’s ordeal. I was sleeping in the back when they came and woke me up. With Buckett passed out drunk on the couch in the living room, they told me what happened. I guess I made a wise choice not to go out with them that night.

Tipp met a different fate. He was written up and sent to Captain’s Mast for a third time. He was awarded to be discharged from the Navy. Don’t you just like that term – awarded. That’s what happens when someone goes to Captain’s Mast – the final disciplinary stop for anyone placed on report. You’re awarded punishment. Now, I don’t know what kind of discharge Tipp received, however, I do know he called the ship about a year and a half later just checking up on how we were doing onboard the ship. Most of the people Tipp served with onboard were either transferred or discharged. Tipp told me that I would never guess what occupation he chose to go into once he was released from the Navy – a Florida State Trooper. A guy who was rowdy and unpredictable in the Navy, discharged, and then became a Florida State Trooper. That was amazing and an outstanding recovery.

There was Seaman Lane who was restricted to the ship for what, I’m not sure. However, instead of staying on restriction and honorably doing his time onboard, Seaman Lane decided to escape the ship by crawling down one of the mooring lines at night to go unauthorized or UA. That took some balls to crawl down a mooring line like a sloth onto the pier. What a daring escape! We never heard from Seaman Lane again.

Then there was Seaman Moffet who chose the more direct route when he was on restriction. He just decided to leap into the water in port and swim to the pier. Scuttlebutt rumor has it that the watch heard the splash and saw him swimming for the pier. Once at the pier, he climbed up and had a ride waiting on him. We never heard from Moffet again either.

During the Scott’s counterdrug operations over in the Pacific, we stopped for a port visit in Acapulco, Mexico. The last liberty boat left at one in the morning, headed back to the ship, and AE3 Killen just missed it. He was intoxicated and didn’t have any place to stay unless he went back into town to get a room at a hotel. Killen made the irrational decision to swim back to the ship. As an Airedale in the Navy, it’s required to be an excellent swimmer in case the helo goes down in what they call, ‘the drink’, or water. The ship itself had to be at least two or three miles from land – maybe even more. But that didn’t deter Killen. He had liquid courage running through his veins and nothing would stop him from making that swim back to the ship. So from the beach, Killen ran into the surf and started swimming in the warm waters of Acapulco towards the Scott which was anchored out. Through possible shark-infested waters, Killen swam and swam towards the ship.

Onboard the Scott, the quarterdeck just received the last liberty boat around forty-five minutes ago. Everybody that was onboard was onboard for the night or had a hotel room out in town. Suddenly, there was a splash down below where the ladder going down to the boat launch was located. The quarterdeck watch went over to see what the splash was. What the quarterdeck watch saw was unbelievable. He saw a water-soaked man in civilian clothes walking up the ladder. Once the wet man got to the top of the ladder, he just stood there for a few seconds.

The water-soaked man took out his ID, saluted and said, Permission to come aboard.

The watch couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This man apparently just swam back to the ship. That swim had to be at least three miles. The watch was in awe of this sailor who had just accomplished this feat.

Permission granted, the watch said, looking bewildered. Am I to understand that you just swam from shore back to the ship? Am I correct? the watch asked.

Yes, I swam back. I missed the last liberty launch and didn’t have a room to stay in out in town, Killen said soaking wet and still exhausted from the swim. So I decided to swim back.

Petty Officer Killen go down below and dry off. We’re going to have to report this, the watch told Killen.

The quarterdeck reported what Killen had done to the Air Detachment Officer In Charge stationed onboard Scott. He was written up and sent to Captain’s Mast where he was awarded thirty days restriction and suspended reduction in rate for three months for the swim back to the ship.

When I finally heard what Killen had done, I had Tipp point Killen out to me. He was a pear-shaped, heavy set guy that didn’t look like he was in shape to make that long swim back to the ship from shore. Scuttlebutt rumor said the Captain was impressed with the swim at mast; however, taking on the dangerous feat of swimming nearly three miles to the ship was the liquor talking and not one of sound judgment from a Petty Officer Third Class.

These were just a few quick stories to get us started. Read on and you’ll discover we’re just as dysfunctional as any other workplace – maybe a tad more. Of all the lessons I’ve learned in the Navy, a simple one from a crusty old Master Chief taught me how to be successful in the Navy – ‘Be on time and do your job.’ That was all one had to do to complete a twenty-year career in the Navy. For the most part, he’s right. It doesn’t matter what challenges are thrown towards a sailor. At the end of the day, all sailors pull together to complete the mission no matter what.

2.

My First Day at Boot Camp Great Lakes Illinois

Two weeks after graduating from high school, on June 24, 1990, I boarded a plane in Savannah, Georgia along with six other guys headed to Chicago, Illinois. We were on our way to Navy boot camp in Great Lakes, Illinois. It was my first time flying on an airplane and being away from home.

After our flight landed, we were shuttled to Recruit Training Command by bus. It was a school bus full of people from all over the United States converging on a place meant to convert civilians into United States Navy sailors. After the hour-long drive from the airport, I finally saw the sign for Recruit Training Command, Great Lakes Illinois. The bus drove through the gates and stopped. I was prepared for a lot of yelling and screaming but there was none. We were told to exit the bus with our belongings. It was about midnight when we arrived.

We were ushered into a room and were told to take a seat at one of the desks. Someone in uniform came in and said, Welcome to Recruit Training Command, Great Lakes. Prior to issuing your gear, we need anyone sitting here to come forward with any information you didn’t divulge to your recruiter. Don’t trust your recruiter. He more than likely lied to you. If you think we won’t find out, we will. This is your last chance you will have to come clean. If you want to tell us anything, please raise your hand.

This part of boot camp is called ‘The Moment of Truth’. This is where any recruit can stand up and divulge anything his recruiter told him to lie or keep hidden prior to enlisting. Criminal charges, dependents, drug use, undisclosed medical conditions, or anything the recruiters told their recruits to lie or withhold so they could enlist and ship out. Anyone with any hidden information could disclose it here. My mind was racing. I smoked weed about a week before I left. Should I tell them that last week I smoked weed? Peer damn-mother-fucking pressure! I was riding my bike one day and decided to stop by my former coworker’s house named Ethel. When I told Ethel I was going away to boot camp she was very happy for me.

Ethel said, Deric, before you leave, you have to smoke a joint with me. Come on in.

Smoke a joint? I can’t have that shit in my system. Is she fucking crazy?

Come on, Deric, you got to smoke with me, Ethel insisted.

I followed her into her house. Ethel went behind a dresser and got a bag with a large amount of weed inside. She took a joint out and lit it up. Ethel took a deep drag on the joint then passed it to me. I took a drag but I held it in my mouth. I didn’t want to inhale this shit and get it into my system. When Ethel turned her head, I blew the smoke out like a regular cigarette. I hoped that shit didn’t get in my system. Ethel and I smoked the joint until it was gone. Every time Ethel turned her head or looked away, I blew the smoke out my mouth like a cigarette. As I look back at this over twenty years later, my budding naval career would have been over before it even began if I had popped for marijuana. This grown-ass friend of mine would have been my downfall – some fuckin’ friend.

I kept my joint smoking to myself. There were seven guys that stood up. They were taken out of the room – I guess to be questioned further. We were then ushered into another room with an itemized list in front of us of things we could keep with us that we brought from home. Everything we needed was provided for us – hygiene products, underwear, T-shirts and stationery. Everyone took off the clothes that they were wearing and put on the recruit training sweats that were issued to each person. After everyone was changed, we placed all our belongings in a box and wrote an address to send it back to where each of us came from. That was the last time we would see anything not military issued for over two months. We were then guided outside and walked to our final destination – our barracks. This was where we would be for the next eight and a half weeks of basic training. The uniformed sailor told us all to pick a rack and try to get some sleep until our company commanders arrived in the morning. There were two rows of bunk beds as far as I could see down to the end of the barracks. It was already three in the morning and we were all exhausted from our travel here and processing. We could finally get some sleep.

It seemed no sooner had I hit my rack and shut my eyes to get some sleep when I heard a loud noise coming from somewhere. I opened my eyes to see that everybody was waking up to this loud banging noise as well. Then the yelling began. Boot camp had started.

Get on your fuckin’ feet! Move, motherfucker!

What the fuck you lookin’ at? Get up you piece a shit!

Get up! Now!

Get in front of your racks at attention now!

Don’t worry about putting on your fuckin’ clothes! Move!

This was one of the most terrifying moments in my life because I had never experienced anything like it. There were over eighty guys scrambling to get dressed but the voices I heard said don’t worry about getting dressed – get in ranks. So now as I look out from my peripheral vision, I see over eighty guys in their underwear standing opposite each other in two rows as far as the eye could see to the right and left of me. Standing in front of my rack at attention with my bunkmate I heard the voices but I was too afraid to turn my head to see where the voices were coming from. As these figures talked, their voices became louder and louder until they were finally visible in my peripheral vision.

My name is Petty Officer First Class Kincade. Petty Officer Kincade sir to you. I will be your senior company commander during your short stay here, whether it be long or short. Do you understand? Petty Officer Kincade said.

There was nothing but silence.

When I say, do you understand, you say, ‘Sir, yes, sir!’ Do you understand?

Sir, yes, sir! all of us said not in unison.

One more time but together! Do you understand? Petty Officer Kincade yelled.

Sir, yes, sir! we said with a little bit more unity.

Say it like you got a pair! Petty Officer Kincade yelled.

Sir, yes, sir! we said together finally.

Next to me is my partner, Petty Officer Exall. Do you understand? Petty Officer Kincade yelled.

Sir, yes, sir! we said in unison.

What the fuck are you eye-ballin’ me for? Get the fuck at attention! Petty Officer Exall yelled as we all immediately faced forward.

It’s Petty Officer Exall’s and my job to turn you into the best sailors in the world’s second-largest nuclear navy. Petty Officer Kincade said as he and Petty Officer Exall walked up the aisle between all the recruits. The question in my mind was, who was the largest nuclear navy?

There are no blacks, whites, Spanish, Chinese, whatever your ethnicity is, in this room. You’re all the same pieces of lowly shit brought to us from civilian land. By the time your two months are done, you’ll be the finest sailors in the world’s second-largest nuclear navy. Do you understand? Petty Officer Kincade yelled.

Sir, yes, sir!

Bullshit. I can’t hear you! Do you understand? Petty Officer Kincade yelled.

Sir, yes, sir! we all said in unison.

And then it began. Petty Officer Kincade was a redhead with a missing tooth. He didn’t look like the most physically fit person in his white working uniform but he terrified me just the way he looked. Petty Officer Exall was a short, skinny guy who looked to be in shape. He was a young-looking guy with a lot of authority in his voice. He scared me just by the way he talked. After about an hour of talking, challenging, and playing with us like a cat does its prey it was about to kill, we were told to get dressed in our navy sweats. We were going to chow for the first time.

After we were yelled at and shown the proper way to fall out of the barracks, line up, and march, we were finally on our way to chow and I was hungry. I was designated as Port Watch Section Leader, whatever that is. When the Recruit Company Commander asked if we were ready to march, I would yell out, Port Watch Section: forward! and then the Starboard Watch Section Leader would yell out, Starboard Watch Section: stand fast. After the three row port section was clear of the starboard section, the Starboard Watch Leader would say, Starboard Watch Section: forward, march. The next three rows would fall in behind. Once we arrived at the galley, we lined up and went through the chow line. The food seemed fine to me so I indulged in eating. We had ten minutes to eat but as soon as we sat down, it seemed like Petty Officer Kincade and Petty Officer Exall told us to get back up. They said we were done. I kept stuffing as much food as I could inside myself until I couldn’t. We all got up, emptied our trays and lined up to exit the chow hall.

Our next stop was the phone center where we were able to make one phone call home to say we were all right and hang up. I dialed my grandmother’s number and my mom picked up.

Hello? Mom answered.

Hey, Mom, it’s me. I made it. I have to go. Love ya, I said, short and sweet with tears starting to form in my eyes.

I love you too, Son. God go take care of you. You’ll be alright. Bye, Mom said and hung up.

That was the last contact I would have with my family for over two months. The next stop was at the barbershop where all our manes would be cut so we all looked alike. We were there with several other companies waiting to get our hair cut. There was an older guy in another company who kept talking to one of the company commanders saying he wasn’t supposed to be here.

Listen, sir, I shouldn’t be here. There is some sort of mistake, the older recruit said.

Listen here, you signed the papers and now you’re here. You’re not going anywhere but to get your hair cut, the company commander said.

I’m not getting my hair cut, the older recruit said.

Oh, you’re going to get your hair cut whether you like it or not, the company commander said.

Fuck you, the older recruit said. I’m not getting my hair cut, and I’m not staying here. There’s some kind of mistake. I’ll kick your ass.

I couldn’t believe the recruit just said, ‘fuck you’ and ‘I’ll kick your ass’ to the company commander.

Wait right here. I’ll be right back, the company commander said, leaving to go somewhere. A few minutes later, he came back with another company commander. This guy he brought with him was massive in his uniform. Because of the size of his arms, I thought he had to have his shirts specially made. This was a massive man.

Now, you’re going to take every order I give you. You’re going to get your hair cut, and you’re going to be a good little recruit, or my friend here is going to have a few words with you. Do you understand? the company commander said to the unruly recruit.

Several minutes later, the unruly recruit came out of the barbershop with a shaved head and was quiet. No more shit-talking from him after being threatened by that massive company commander.

Next, we went to medical where we were lined up like cattle to receive shots. As we were waiting, I saw some recruits sitting in chairs getting blood drawn. I saw one nurse about to stick a needle in the arm of a recruit and the recruit immediately went into convulsions, shaking from a fear of needles.

Don’t anyone laugh! Any one of you laughs and you’re a fucking dead man! the company commander yelled out to us. I held in laughter until I started crying out both eyes. That was some funny ass shit watching that recruit shaking because he was scared of needles.

The rest of the day was spent in processing and indoctrination. Once the day was about over, we headed back to our barracks. That night after a good push-up session, we were told we had three minutes to shit, shower, and shave. Shit, shower, and shave in three minutes? Impossible, but I guess we had no choice. People scrambled to their racks to get their shower supplies out their lockers. Once I finally made it into the shower compartment, I saw one guy who was so nervous that he gouged his face with his razor and began shaking. The guys had to restrain him from taking any more chunks of skin off his face. Some of the guys showered with their towels on and others showered with their underwear on. I guess it takes time for some of the guys to get used to over eighty swinging dicks in the shower. After everyone was showered, we lined up and were given instructions for the rest of the night and the next day. Once that was done, we were told to hit our racks because we had an early morning the next day. That damn Uncle James told me to enlist in this shit. I wish I could talk to him or see him right now. I’d probably punch him in the face. Tears started to run down my face. I missed my grandmother’s house. I missed my yard. I missed Savannah. I didn’t want to be here. I finally went to sleep. Only eight weeks and four days to go. How comforting.

3.

I Thought I Could Swim

When I joined the Navy, my recruiter talked me into the Delayed Entry Program. I should say sold because that’s what he did, and I bought into it. One part of the indoctrination was watching three short videos. One of the videos was about basic training. The part I zeroed in on was the swim test. The guy in the movie jumped off a ledge a little taller than my shoulder. This should be a piece of cake as long as I could doggy paddle for five minutes. To pass the swim test, everyone had to float for five minutes.

We were marched over to the swimming pool with several other companies to conduct the swim test. I saw the same ledge in Great Lakes that was in the movie I saw at the recruiting office. This would be no problem. Unfortunately for me and a lot of other guys that saw the same video, the instructor at the pool said we weren’t going to jump from the diving board we saw in the video. The instructor pointed to a ledge that seemed to be over twenty, maybe thirty feet high that we would be jumping off. Holy shit! Was this a fucking joke? No one said anything about this shit to me. Apparently, most of the other guys in my company had the same thought.

We were lined up in lines of three to climb up, jump off the ledge, and float for five minutes. Then we had to swim around a cone to the edge. As long as I could doggy paddle for five minutes, I would be fine. If someone got in trouble or was going down, they were to raise their hand and they would be assisted out of the pool and be classified as NQS or a non-qualified swimmer. Prior to me jumping in, I was able to observe multiple near drownings. I also saw someone jump in, go straight to the bottom, and just stay there. There was always an instructor in the water. The recruit was assisted out of the pool. If a recruit couldn’t float for five minutes, they were taken over to the other side of the pool and taught the technique of floating by the pool instructors. I was at the top of the platform with two other recruits ready to jump in. I looked down. It was a long fuckin’ way down. This was the highest place I ever jumped from.

Jump! yelled the pool instructor.

All three of us hesitated.

Jump damn it! Now! yelled the