The man sitting behind the desk was our division officer. He enlisted in the Navy as an enlisted man and because of his intelligence he got into a special program which made him an officer. At the time this picture was taken he had been in the Navy about 20 years. At the time he was probably doodling penises. True, he drew a lot of circumcised penises. It was penises just on a page, his penises fitted in a joke cartoon of some kind. The one that stands out in my memory was a very sexy woman with nothing on but an apron pouring water with one of those water buckets with a snout with holes in the end and she was watering a row of penises sticking up in a garden. He was not gay, he had a household full of children – Three, maybe more.
He was fascinated with our single life and went out with us a few times to beach bars to pick up girls. We gave ourselves unique positions, we, the enlisted, were suave Naval officers, and our division Officer was an enlisted swabbie. He even addressed us as “Sir” during our trolling.
In the office, whenever the CO dropped in for a chat with him as he entered he tossed his golden braided hat onto the hat rack and say “As you were” as we snapped to attention. He and our division officer would go back to the real officer’s office and talk. He would get behind the desk and the CO world sit down in a chair facing him. Then, my coworker Don and I would stand near the door and make faces behind the CO’s back that our division officer could see but not the CO – he our man had to keep a straight face. A few times, Don, a little bit more daring than me, would put the CO’s hat and make faces.
As soon as the CO retrieved his hat and left we all cracked up laughing.
Within a couple years after Don and I left the Navy our division officer resigned too. We made civilian life look like too much fun to him. He and his family moved to Tampa and he could not find a job. So, he, leaving his family back in Florida, until he called for them, came to Marietta and moved in with us and looked for a job.
One night he and I went out drinking. We popped in and out several popular bars. I remember on West Peachtree Street in Atlanta suddenly he had to use the bathroom, take a dump. I sped towards a service station blocks ahead and got behind a line of slow moving cars, only about two blocks from the lights of the Gulf or Shell service station. He said he couldn’t hold it that long. So, he got out and ran to the service station. I thought to myself when he first took over our office as a division officer he was sort of strict and impersonal, never would I think our relationship would come to this, me watching him run down West Peachtree, having to shit.
He felt guilty staying in our guest bedroom and moved to a boarding house in Buckhead, which is part of Atlanta. There he told us that one night, when he was trying to go to sleep his roommate reluctantly told him about raping a young lady recently, and it was not the first one. Chet was unsure what to do with that information and before he had a chance to do anything the roommate moved out.
He had no luck finding a job, but looking for a job inspired him to create a local (Metro Atlanta) magazine that carried only want ads for jobs. He sent for his family and I think he got rich.
Chet and his family bought a nice house in the Decatur area, a drive-in theater was near his house. He and his wife had us over for dinner one time.
I have not seen his magazine on the magazine rack in a couple of years so I don’t know what he is doing now. I have a pretty good idea,
