While going from port to port and enjoying the engine room sauna, you share stories of your life and dreams with your shipmates, or in this case “snipes” as that’s what engine room type people are called.
I became close with a couple of guys, one from Florida and the other from Idaho. One thing about the navy, you have ample opportunity to make friends from around the country that can be there for as short as a week or they may be saying goodbye to you on your way out. Lasting friendships are rare, at least they were for me. I randomly made contact on Facebook with a guy that I knew (never a close friend) from the “hole” or “pit”, as the engine room is often referred to. Perhaps it’s a carry over from being an only child or being crapped on by high school friends that were great one day and stabbing you in the back the next day.
Navy life during a deployment in the Med was work hard and party harder. I missed so many opportunities to see part of the world that I’ll never see again, like Yugoslavia (it no longer exists as a country, it’s now Croatia). To ensure that your blood alcohol level is maintained, every sailor aboard is allowed to buy a gallon of duty free alcohol. We three idiots had big plans for I & I (Intoxication & Intercourse) upon returning to the states versus the mundane R & R (Rest & Relaxation).
Somehow during my first cruise I succeeded in never contracting any venereal disease, especially since I was stupid enough to never wear a condom. I was double lucky to have not gone to “the compound” in Turkey. After we left that port, the lines at sick bay were a mile long for those unfortunates that contracted good ole gonorrhea. My nearest brush was with pestilence; i.e., “the crabs.” Which I managed to turn into amusement by shaving my crotch and getting giggles from the hookers. A handy side benefit was that egg encrusted hair were just what the doctor ordered to force a redneck to move out of our berthing area.
As I was still nursing a bruised ego from my fiancee to be, the Florida guy offered to hook me up with a friend of his (and his wife); he was also kind enough to connect Idaho to his wife’s sister. Somehow he thought that was the best match given our personalities (I guess) and he gave us their addresses so we could introduce ourselves in anticipation of returning to the US. Of course I had to be my usual obscene and obnoxious self, and ask the young lady to mail me some of her crotch hair. The three of us all had a good hoot, and were equally surprised that she even bothered to answer my letter (no hair included).
When we returned to port in the good ole US of A, the ladies were in waiting to take our sorry butts to Tallahassee. Introductions were made, I have no recollection of the 2.5 hour drive to T-town. About the only thing I could remember is that all 3 gallons of fire water were consumed, the predicted pairings occurred and my date wasn’t the type to go all the way on the first meeting – which I respected greatly – surprisingly, given my previous track record.
On to Matrimony – Courtship.
Or back to the previous blog Deployment.
babychristian55 