The Sentinel, I never Understood It, 200908

When I first joined the navy after all my training, the old chiefs on Guam and aboard ship used to say, "you're not in the real navy." I couldn't imagine me not being in the real navy. I wore the uniforms, stood watches, participated in operations at sea and ashore, so what did that mean, not in the real navy?

This is a ahort background to what I discovered. Joyce and I met a new friend, Eleanor (delifhtful woman great to veterans) when we were in Oklahoma. we talked and I gave her information about my blog posts. She forwarded some to Barry (they are both proud Texans) so I met Barry (also proud of vererans) over the internet. Barry was on the USS Ponchatoula, (an oiler ship used to refuel other ships at sea.) It turns out that my naval time bracketed his, we were in the same areas of operation and at the same time. We have shared a lot of sea stories, his better than mine.

I still wondered about what the real navy was until just days ago, (it only took me 55 years). The old navy chiefs in before World War Two started out as engine room operators, ordinance or deck hands. When the war started the navy needed avaition men and it was easy to switch into those ranks as aviation mechanics or electronic techs or airframe mechanics and the ranks were open for advancement. Back to Barry, he was in "the real navy." He was part of the sea and anchor detail, whithout which shps don't leave or enter ports. He was in the refueling crews (deckhand, hard work, beyond what most people can imagine without seeing them in action). Barry went far beyond that during his time in the navy, he became a navy photographer. Unless one is in the navy and observes underway replenishments, especially oil and avaition fuels it's impossible to imagine how much work it is and how dangerous it can be. Two, sometimes three ships have to be held on perfect courses in rough seas just yards apart from each other, not an easy thing to do. After my first cruise, we were heading home when an oiller came alongside off the coast of Alaska, the seas were rough, but we needed fuel to get to San Diego. The rough seas pushed the oiler slightly off course for a time, just enough. The collision alarm went off on the aircraft carrier and it rang for 5-10 minutes, long enough to make me think it was a malfunction, until the top mast of the oiler hit the flight deck of the carrier and swept an F-4 Phantom off the deck like a piece of dust.

Through knowing and reading Barry's exploits I now know what the real navy is.