Monday, August 28, 2006

Sea Story #1

Tonight my television is being held hostage by my significant other who is watching another one of those Hollywood circle jerk award shows. There is more butt sniffing going on than a sunny Saturday at a pet park. Not that there really is anything of quality on the one eyed monster at any given time anyway. So, with the loss of the electronic lobotomy and the lack of anything in the news worthy of note here is a no sh#tter for your amusement.

We were at the beginning of a REFTRA period getting ready for the impending ORSE that loomed in the boat’s not too distant future. We had all the arrays and antenna stowed so it was an excellent opportunity for the crew get a full-on flooding drill complete with the high angles. The crew was awoken to the 1MC report of “Flooding in the Engine Room” “Flooding in the Engine room” and the eye opening shriek of the Flooding alarm. As the crew struggled to get themselves out of their racks and into their poopie suits ,shoes and get themselves to their DC stations, the Dive was enthusiastically getting the ship in a hard 20 degrees up to minimize the depth. Seconds after the First report, a 1 MC of “Secure the drill, Corpsman lay to the engine room, EMAT team lay to the Engine room” was passed and the angle suddenly leveled. Now everyone doubled their efforts to get dressed and laying aft to see if we could help our injured shipmate.
The COB was at the Engine room water tight door keeping the crew from crowding in to “Help” and Rubberneck. Well, a few minutes of waiting revealed that the victim was our XO. It seems that his enthusiastic race to get to the casualty, coupled with the freshly waxed RC tunnel and the up angle caused him to loose his footing and pile head first into the 1S switchboard. The doc and the EMAT guys had staunched to bleeding from his forehead, neck braced him and got him on the backboard. We hauled him to Doc’s office on Second level and let Doc do what IDC‘s do best.
A few hours later Doc escorted the XO to his state room to get some rest in his rack and heal up a bit. It looked like the XO had only suffered a mild concussion and a nasty cut. The Aux Forward and Aux electrician Forward were tasked as part of their round to go into the XO‘s state room and ask him a few simple questions to ensure that his brain wasn‘t swelling and that he was still with us. A few hourly rounds the guys alternately entered, woke the XO up from his sleep and asked him some simple questions that would demonstrate that he was aware of his surroundings and environment. “ What day is it?” What is your position?” “What is your Rank?”. Each time the XO would mumble the correct reply and fall back into slumber. A couple of turnovers put one very smart assed “A” ganger on the rounds at Aux forward. When it was his turn to check on the XO, he quietly entered the state room and woke him for another round of questioning. “What day is it?” “Tuesday” What is your Rank?” “Lieutenant Commander.” What is the Square root of your Social Security Number?” At that point the XO’s eyes popped open, he sat straight up on his rack and told the MM3 to get the f##k out of his stateroom. The checks by the roving watches terminated immediately and the MM3 took his butt chewing with a smirk on his face from the Chief of the Watch and Doc for agitating the XO in his delicate state. The Next morning when the Plan of the day was posted around the ship, the last item of note was the square root of the XO’s social security number. He did have a sense of humor.
Which was a good thing. The day or so following the XO’s collision, the ship ran the flooding drill complete with angles to exercise the crew prior to embarking the riders for a pre ORSE evaluation. Greeting the XO and all crew members as they passed the RC and entered the engine room was 1S. It had been transformed by the Mid watch into a wall of pillows taped to the switch board and a prominently displayed Bulls Eye in the center.


Just Another Old Geezer said...

ORSE, REFTRA, EMAT, 20 degrees up. Damn, I love it when you nukes talk that shit. Never heard language like that on the ol' smokeboats. I'm not sure most of us could have handled it. But the wise ass A-ganger would have fit right in. I think it's something in A-gangers genes.

Conway Eastwood said...

What a great story, it's an entirely different world, submarines. Was this during the 1990s or the Cold War?