The people you don’t like are the guys who don’t know what a fucking turnbuckle is, like the new supply ROTC ensign, they’re the worst, who asked you one morning what those bells were that kept ringing and you had to swallow a laugh and tell him sir, those are the time bells they ring twice for every hour and once for every half hour on the watch and he said on the watch and you said sir, the ship’s day is divided into six watches, four hours each, and he said I guess that’s good to know, good to know[125].
Then he picked up the stack of message forms you just filled out and said that there was a mistake on them and pointed to the UIC and said this is wrong, the time code is wrong and you had to tell him that is the Unit Identification Code, the ship’s number and not the time and he said well we’ll have to check with the senior chief on that BM3, like being a boatswain’s mate made you a total idiot and then the senior chief told the ensign that it was right and the ensign said that he was going to run these past the supply officer, and you and the senior chief smiled when he got up because you knew that the commander was going to rip him a new one, and after he went out the hatch, the second class said but I went to college and you all laughed your asses off.
So you are hitting Toulon in two days and you hear it’s a pretty good port being in France and on the southern coast or the Riviera, and there are nude beaches and you can run up to Monte Carlo and hit the casinos or down to Marseilles or go to Paris on the train on a ship’s tour all the while the planes are blasting off the carriers and out of the desert bases and just hammering the shit out of the Iraqis and everyone’s wondering what the hell is going on because the Iraq air force took off for Iran and the rest of their planes are all busted up on the ground and all their radars and missiles and shit are all blasted to pieces and the US jets are just flying around and now the B-52s are staging out of Louisiana and flying over to Iraq and dropping a shit load of bombs and then home for dinner and you think that must be pretty weird hi honey how was your day but the US also dropped a huge bomb on some place they thought was a headquarters but was really an air raid shelter but the US said that Saddam had just put an air raid shelter on top of the headquarters and you hear that 300 or so people were killed anyway.
But before you can get liberty in Toulon, the whole ship has to have a uniform inspection which is the biggest pain in the ass you can imagine because it means making sure that your blues are perfect and your shoes shined and your hair cut right and you are shaved, which is the worst because you have a rough beard and started shaving at 14 and an hour after you shave it looks like you didn’t and you have been taking shit for this ever since you hit boot camp.
You go over your blues, the old crackerjacks that you actually like[126] because the squids have been wearing them for about 100 years and they are actually pretty hardy not like your whites that seem to attract dirt the second you pull them on, but your blues are in pretty good shape with all the right patches on them and you check your little ribbon bar with just one little national defense medal that everybody got when they kicked off this war and then you check your shoes and shine the shit out of them with hot wax dripped on the toes and a solid wipe down with a rag and then about an hour with the old brush.
You won’t wear the corframs, the plastic shoes that the lifers buy just to get past the inspection, because it’s not honest because you can’t wear them on the boat because they’d just melt on to your feet in a fire and besides you like the feel of the soft worn in leather in your hands and on your feet so you spend the extra hour on your shoes and they shine, they really shine deep, not like those plastic-ass lifer shoes.
You trade some paint for a haircut and get them to cut it really high to make sure you pass the inspection because who gives a fuck about what the French think about your hair they’ll know you are a squid no matter what you do about it, and then on the morning of the inspection you put off shaving until the last second, and then pull your blouse over your perfect white t-shirt that sits in a plastic bag in your coffin locker and then carefully, carefully pull the silk scarf over your head making sure you don’t mess up the knot that your company commander tied in boot camp, and you never untied since and then you grab your white hat out of another plastic bag and set it on your hair.
And so you are feeling pretty good about things as you climb up the ladders from the second deck to the 02 flight deck and wander out in the air and look at the sky you don’t see that often and take off your white hat and walk over to the catwalks and to the nets at the bow and feel the wind in your hair, and you look back down the length of the ship to the stern and you can hear the hiss of the waves breaking over the stem[127] of the boat, and the wind in your ears and you can’t hardly hear the announcement to muster for inspection by departments but you see the deck apes lining up and you walk down to them and get in line.
And the First Lieutenant[128], the head of the deck department, climbs out of the island and comes down to the muster and the Bo’sun calls out attention and you pull your feet together heels together toes at a 45-degree angle and set your white hat on your head and push out your chest and stand staring off at the horizon, at the edge of the sea, while the First Lieutenant walks the lines and looks at all the guys and every so often sends a guy below for a new t-shirt or a shine, and when he hits you he looks carefully at your face and says did you shave this morning BM3 and you say yessir and he says doesn’t look like it go below and run a razor over it again and you say yessir and go below and its goddamn embarrassing to be sent down like a fucking booter.
You hit the head with your razor and feel around your face and run the razor over every spot where even the littlest bit of stubble is, and then you go back up the ladders dropping your white hat on the 01 level and getting a little dirt on it, and then through the flight deck shelters and up the catwalk, and back to your spot in the ranks and the first lieutenant comes back down to check on you and he pulls out his fucking ID card and it scrapes on your skin while you stand there wanting to bust his fucking bad-breath face and he says I thought I sent you down to shave and you say yessir I did and he says it doesn’t sound like it and you say I did shave sir and he says go down and really shave BM3 and hurry the hell up and you are turned out again.
You feel like shit as you walk all alone across the flight deck and down into the shelter and you go into a Marine berthing and skank a razor off a bunk and head into their head and rip that fucking dull ass razor across your face until tiny spots of blood sprout on your cheeks and your neck and on the side of your mouth, and then you say to yourself, fuck him if this isn’t enough and you go back up on the flight deck with the blood dripping down your neck and you go back to your place and come to attention with your face red and your throat hot and the first lieutenant and the Skipper are starting down the ranks and when they come to you, the Skipper looks at you and then at the first lieutenant and asks him why is this man bleeding and the first lieutenant says he needs to learn to shave sir and the Skipper looks at you and nods and you feel like a piece of shit[129].
After you are told to carry on you walk back to the deck edge and look down on the white water tossing out from the hull, and you wonder how you got yourself into this and then after a while you go below and pull off your uniform and see that your white hat is dirty and your inspection t-shirt has blood on the neck and you sit on the edge of your rack in your pants and pull off your shoes and whip them one by one banging into the back of your coffin locker and the second class comes over and kicks your foot and says don’t worry about that asshole and the next morning you are on the bridge at sea and anchor keeping the log when the deck apes drop the brow[130] into the Toulon harbor, sinking down out of sight under the oily black water and the whole ship waits with the Marines laughing their asses off up on the flight deck, while the French guys find a crane and pull it out and the Skipper calls the first lieutenant on the bridge and chews his ass in front of the whole watch and later you go down to
the second class and say thanks and he says for what.
Toulon is a pretty good town and the first night you hit the bars with some of the supply guys and you all drink beers until you are pretty hammered, so you can sit back in the little wicker chair and smoke a smoke and close your eyes and breath out and forget about all this shit, and then you go back to the port and outside of the gates a guy is selling smash sandwiches[131] and you all get one and carry it warm in your hands back down to the pier and you get a beer from the beer on the pier guys and you sit on the edge of the pier and look back at the lights of the town and eat your sandwiches with meat and runny cheese in big bites so your stomach feels warm and your head is at ease finally and the next morning you get up and find out that the war has started for real.