FDR Presidential Yacht
I went on active duty in the Navy July 10, 1963. I joined up because of the Cuban Missile scare. I and 4 or 5 other E-2 reservists flew by
private carrier to Charleston, South Carolina.
Charleston Naval Yard (I think what they called it) is a
Transient station. It appeared to me that
the Transient system could handle several hundred men at one time.
Definition of a Transient:
One just out of training waiting for his orders By talking to other transients the average
waiting time is about 30 days.
Notice I said "his", meaning the male gender. I saw no females also in transient status.
Notice I said "his", meaning the male gender. I saw no females also in transient status.
In a big parking lot between two barrack buildings on the pavement
were numbers evenly spaced from each other.
The organizers issued little tags with numbers that matched the numbers
on the pavement. In the morning at
8:00am, if I remember correctly, you are expected to be standing on your number. Then the group leaders come in and look over
the transients to pick out who will be in their particular detail for the
day. I felt like I was in a slave auction. I almost expected a NCO pry my mouth opened to see my teeth.
Each day I went with different bunches of men to do various
jobs. The ones I remember: Washing dishes in the mess hall’ cleaning the
NCO Club; cleaning the Marines NCO Club; and the worse was to paint a deck on
FDR presidential yacht (it was docked on the Cooper River in the historical part
of the docks. I was wearing my blues,
non-dress, and a wave gave the yacht a good rock which
knocked me into the freshly painted deck that I just painted. I had gray paint all over my arms and legs sleeves. I don’t remember how I got it off.
The picture in this article I found on Google, under FD Presidential Yacht -about four were shown, the one here is the one I remember looking like it.
The picture in this article I found on Google, under FD Presidential Yacht -about four were shown, the one here is the one I remember looking like it.
The group leaders watched you work and if they liked the effort
you made they could request for you to work with them every day. Then you did not have to stand on your dumb
number in the parking lot every morning. It was sort of a prestige appointment.
After about ten days I was chosen to work in the movie
theater. Another guy who was from
something like Newnan, Georgia, and I was chosen to work in the theater to do grunt work. I don't know how or why my mother did it, but she became telephone friends with the mother if my work-mate. That was before the Internet and Facebook.
I was happy. And even happier when I found what my duties were. I emptied the “shit cans” (that is what the female yeoman called them) in her outer office and the division officer’s inner office “shit cans” And give both “heads” the once-over. Then after lunch we met the group leader, the chief in the theater and watched a movie. We sat in a little cluster so we could make comments on what we were watching. We got to be friends.
I was happy. And even happier when I found what my duties were. I emptied the “shit cans” (that is what the female yeoman called them) in her outer office and the division officer’s inner office “shit cans” And give both “heads” the once-over. Then after lunch we met the group leader, the chief in the theater and watched a movie. We sat in a little cluster so we could make comments on what we were watching. We got to be friends.
I heard a lot in the barracks about the wild bars just outside the gate and
also the private homes near the area with signs in their yards that said “DOGS
AND SAILORS KEEP OFF THE GRASS”. My theater -worker-buddy and I decided to
check it out. The Charleston Navy base is/was
a few miles long. Our barracks was on
one end and the gate was on the other end.
They had bus service that ran up and down the main road.
Outside the gate were bars and “clubs” , all well lit,
lining both sides of the street all with loud music and "door" men trying to lure you inside the joint they represented.
Remember most of the sailors you see on this street have just
got off a ship and haven’t had a drink or even seen a woman for months.
We chose a bar that seemed to have heavy traffic going in
and out.
Something inside must be good.
Something inside must be good.
Inside there was a long line of sailors to the bar where behind the bar
mixing drinks was a cute girl with a big smile on her face and a big jar that
said “TIPS” filled with green money of $10s and $20s. We got closer to see why she was so
special. She would asked her current customer
would they like the special “stir”? Of
course they did. She watched to make
sure they “fed the kitty”. She reached down in her short shorts and stir
her hand around her crouch then brought out her hand with one finger erect and
stirred the drink. She was mixing drinks with
a masturbating finger. She was making
loads from horny sailors that haven’t been near a woman in months. I wonder what kind of grade the county health inspector gave them?
We were too cheap. We
walked back through the gate to take a bus back to the barracks.
On the way back the bus driver was hateful to all on the bus
and a couple of times told people to quiet down or he was going to pull over
and make everybody get off. One man
challenged him and they got into a name calling fight. Come to find out, the guy that challenged him
was a Lt. Commander… guess who instantly became quiet and humble?
One afternoon while watching a movie with my theater friends
the female yeoman came in and told me to report to Window # 9 at the Transient
office, which I did.
At Window #9 a young man gave me my new orders to the USS
J.K. TAUSSIG at Lakehurst, NJ. He also
gave me an airplane ticket to Philadelphia and a bus ticket from Philadelphia to Lakehurst, New Jersey . He added that to get from the airport to the bus station would have to come out of my pocket. The flight was
only a couple hours away. I had to hustle to
the barracks, pack, and be on that plane in a short time – and I only had $10
in my pocket.
More to follow on the next Throwback Thursday, hopefully.
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