The Subtitle Says This Is the Blog Board

[Abbot Mythos]

This is not what I expected. But then, I've never started a blog before.

Anyway, having spent far too much of my misspent youth on big, much older, ugly, gray ship, this particular subject is of special interest to me:

Moldy showers and no soap: Military families are outraged by conditions on USS Lincoln

"The aircraft carrier's long deployment in the Iran war is raising concerns that the sailors and Marines on board are facing poor conditions, low supplies and fatigue."

As per this article:

"The crew of the Lincoln has had only two days off the aircraft carrier since it left its home port in San Diego in November. The ship had a short port call in Guam in December and then did not have another stop until July 7, when it briefly pulled into Oman after 208 continuous days at sea — a modern-day record for a Navy aircraft carrier.

Long workdays with few breaks can lead to accidents, said Brett Snow, a Navy veteran whose son is serving on the Lincoln. Even when a carrier is operating in peacetime, it is an extremely hazardous place to work, Snow said.  "It's the most dangerous place in the world already, and now you're grinding it out, day in and day out, with no breaks," he said. "It's an environment that's ripe for accidents."" 

And, further along in the article:

"Snow, the Navy veteran, says he has noticed carrier deployments getting longer. That will make it harder for the Navy to persuade sailors to stay in the service when their tours are up, he said. "If this trend continues, it's going to impact retention and it's going to impact operational safety."" 

Now, having experienced something like this myself, I can testify that an insane deployment like this is going to have serious, long term consequences.

On my first cruise, my boat was deployed for 300 days. (This is currently listed as the fourth (4th) longest deployment of a USN aircraft carrier.) But, my own longest time at sea between port calls happened during my second cruise, and that was for forty-two (42) days. So, when people asked us how long we had been at sea, we told them, "Two days longer than the Arc." And, although we thought it was a bitch, it was nothing close to what sailors today are expected to endure. (Still, our surprise bonus after being out at sea for those forty-two days was a port call in Athens, Greece, just in time for the festivities of the infamous "Athens Polytechnic Uprising.")

And, from my own experience, making it "harder for the Navy to persuade sailors to stay in the service when their tours are up," is the least of the consequences to be expected from this long deployment. Now, in truth, after my own long deployment, there were only a few cases of outright desertion. But, a noticeable percentage of the crew, many of whom were "snipes" from the boiler room crew, went AWOL for extended periods. And, many of those AWOL sailors elected to finally turn themselves in at naval stations far away from where any aircraft carriers were based. And so, months after finally returning to our home port, we started hearing stories about AWOL guys who had told the officers who had taken them into custody that they were willing to serve their punishment in the brig, but would go AWOL again if they were sent back to duty on an aircraft carrier.

Still, the desertions and AWOL sailors were not the worst of the consequences from my own boat's "extended deployment." But, that's another story.             

[Abbot Mythos]

One of the consequences of my boat's "extended deployment" was the following:

Two Days of Racial Unrest On Navy Carrier Reported

This is a very short article, so I'm not posting any quotations from it.

And, to put this in prospective, the last of our combat troops had left South Vietnam on March 29, 1973. So, there was little chance that my boat would have to endure another "extended deployment" at the end of our "normal" six month Mediterranean cruise scheduled for 1973-74. And, the next cruise was not extended, even though it was memorable in its own right.

But, those of us who had nothing to do with instigating those "Two Days of Racial Unrest" called it exactly what it was: A mutiny.

Now, back in the day, aircraft carriers should have been equipped with revolving doors, as sailors going AWOL from them was a common occurrence. And, given the high crew turnover, and a carrier's very high demand for warm bodies, many of the dregs of the fleet eventually found themselves assigned to aircraft carriers. Still, we seemed to have had a lot more serious troublemakers coming aboard in the summer of 1973 than we had had before the previous "extended deployment." There was also a lot of grumbling, and fear, in the ranks about the possibility of yet another "extended deployment" in 1973-74. But, "racial unrest?" No, not so much. 

I don't remember the exact day, but walking through the hanger deck in the early afternoon I saw that the weather was near perfect, the hanger deck was near empty, and the ship was barely moving. And, that meant nothing was landing or taking off, which is definitely not normal for an aircraft carrier steaming in broad daylight, in good weather, during Carrier Qualifications. Then an acquaintance approached me and said he had heard that something was going on up on the flight deck. As neither of us knew what was happening, we decided to go up to the flight deck and see for ourselves.

When we got up there, we saw a tight cluster of about 400 people standing in the middle of the catapult launch area, just forward of the island structure. When we asked people watching from the sidelines what was going on, all anyone could tell us was that the group had stopped flight operations. Now, the watching group was less than half the size of the group blocking the flight deck. But, members of the masters-at-arms force were among the watchers, and doing nothing.

While my acquaintance and I watched in stunned silence, we heard a voice behind us say something to the effect of, "I can't believe this. I'm going to take a picture, or no one will believe me when I tell them about it."

Turning to look at the photographer, my first acquaintance and I both recognized him as being a mutual acquaintance. (On a ship with over 4,000 people aboard, you have your circle of friends, a larger circle of acquaintances, and a big boatload of strangers.) But, as soon as the photographer raise his camera, a master-at-arms rushed towards him, and demanded that he hand it over.

And, without even thinking about it, those of us nearest the photographer closed ranks, blocked the master-at-arms, and opened a path for the photographer to run to the back of the island structure to take the crew's ladder back down to the hanger deck. This particular master-at-arms was smarter than most, in that he did not try to force his way through us. And, when he tried to go around, he was told, "Lay a hand on him and you're going over the side. The mutineers are over there. Deal with them." And, as the flight deck of an aircraft carrier is a long way above the water, he wisely gave up the chase. But, nether that master-at-arms, nor any of his cohorts made any move to break up the mutineers.

After that, the mutineers broke into smaller groups, and rampaged through the ship for two days looking for sailors to beat up who were foolish enough to be walking around alone. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured, while the officer corps walked around with marine guards, and did nothing.

When the violence finally petered out, we pulled into port, and the mutineers disappeared from the ship. A couple of weeks later, while out at sea again, I heard that the above little article about the mutiny had appeared in The New York Times, but I never thought I'd ever be lucky enough to get a copy of it.

Oh, and after the mutineers disappeared from the ship, the officer corps came down on those of us who didn't mutiny like a ton of bricks. But, they quickly got tired of being told that those of us left aboard were not the ones who had mutinied, and they wisely backed off.

The aftermath of all of this came the following year when the ship had to go into dry dock in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, for repairs to damage sustained in the North Atlantic during our return to the states from the Mediterranean. It was then that we learned, from some of the mutineers themselves, that the US Navy's punishment for mutiny was shore duty at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, and not being allowed to reenlist.

One of the oldest jokes in the Navy is to ask someone, "Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a sea story?" If the answer is the usual, "No," they are then told, "Well ... a fairy tale begins, 'Once upon a time.' But, a sea story beings, 'This is no shit!'" And, the above is a rare thing, being that it's a sea story that's 100% true. But, if you don't believe me, I don't give a shit.

[Doktor Howl]

Well, these sailors have been eating spam and canned beets 3 meals a day for a few months.

I am sure moral is high.