Joe Psy.D. Callihan

Adventures In Navyland


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That did it for me. I’ve got to find a way out of this Hell Hole! Why feel that way? It was hot as Hell down there. Also, it was not a place for anyone other than midgets. Being six foot tall, there were low hanging pipes all over. I would turn around to answer, when someone called my name, and hit my head on one of those low hanging pipes. They were everywhere! I thought if I can get out of here alive, I must make myself a promise never to return.

      As previously stated, there was another disadvantage to working in such a place. If the ship ever was sinking, and the order came to abandon ship, you would have to climb numerous flights of ladders as fast as you could, just to get where you could jump overboard. I never have been good at floating. So I knew my survival chances after being out of breath from climbing all those ladders, would make staying afloat even harder. Besides, I had voluntarily signed up. Put some midget they had to draft down there – not me!

      My chance soon came, as after lunch the Chief was showing us the rear gun turret. He explained how it worked, and then asked if there were any questions. I waited as long as I safely could, then at the last moment, just as he was preparing to move on, my hand shot up high in the air. “Yes, do you have a question?” “Yes Chief, I do!” “What is your name?” the Chief asked. “Fireman Apprentice Joseph Callihan” I answered. “And what is the question you would like to ask, Fireman Apprentice Callihan?” “I would like to know how I can get out of being a Fireman?”

      With a look if amusement on his face, the Chief then asked me, “Why would you want to do that?” “I’ll tell you why” I said. “I’m a Patriotic American, I joined the Navy, you did not have to come looking for me, and I did not run away to Canada. I volunteered to serve to the best of my ability. You can believe me Chief the best of my ability is not working as a Fireman. I am not mechanically inclined. Besides, didn’t you notice when we were down there? It’s hot as Hell down there. You need to put someone who had to be drafted down there – not me.”

      I seemed to have touched the Chief with my impassioned plea. “Wait here,” he said. He then left our group. Some of the guys came up to me and said, “I wish I had the guts to ask what you did.

      You may have bought yourself a ticket out of Hell.” Returning a short while later the Chief said, “Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

      Taking me to the Flying Bridge, the Chief introduced me to the Captain of the Greenwood. “So you don’t want to be a Fireman?” the Captain asked. “No sir, I’m not mechanically inclined, and being six foot, I tend to knock my brains out every time I turn around. Besides, it’s hot as Hell down there. You need to put someone you had to draft down there. I’m a Patriotic American, and that means I intend to serve to the best of my ability. Believe me - the best of my ability does not include being a Fireman.”

      Laughing with pleasure at my remarks, the Captain looked at me and said, “You’ve got guts, Fireman Apprentice Callihan, haven’t you?” “Yes sir, I do,” I answered. “I LIKE THAT!” he said. Then looking at the Chief he asked, “Do we have any other kind of work onboard which might be better suited for Mr. Callihan Chief?” The Chief smiled and said, “We have an opening for a Quartermaster Striker sir.”

      The Captain then asked, “Would you like to be a Quartermaster Striker Mr. Callihan?” “Well sir, I don’t know exactly what that is. But if it means I won’t have to serve in Hell, I’m all for it! I only hope I’m qualified for the job.” The Captain laid my fears to rest. “It means you will be working up here in the bridge area. As for your qualifications, can you spell?” “I can spell my name pretty good.” Laughing, the Captain said to the Chief, “Chief, I think you’ve found your Quartermaster Striker.” Turning to me, the Captain said, “Welcome aboard the Greenwood, Quartermaster Striker Callihan.” Boy, I was relieved and elated at the same time!

      Thus began my brief career as a Quartermaster in the Navy Reserve. You won’t believe the new Adventures which lay ahead.

      Chapter Five

      THE QUARTERMASTER STRIKER TAKES A CRUISE

      I had been a Quartermaster Striker on the Greenwood for approximately two months; then came another two months of being assigned again to shore, while the Greenwood was sent down to the Yards in Key West for an overhaul. As I mentioned earlier, I had to develop my “sea legs.” Once I did, it became smooth sailing, and a fun adventure.

      We were flown to Key West to pick up the USS Greenwood. Which had been in the Naval Yards for needed repairs. Next, we were to take it on a “Shake down” cruise to Guantanamo, Cuba. We were accompanied by three other ships, as part of a convoy.

      When we hit the bottom half of Cuba, rounding the Windward Passage, I realized what a perfect name it had been given. Storms, high winds, and waves pounded the Greenwood. The ship was listing 45 degrees back and forth. Sometimes it seemed like a miracle it did not turn completely over. Where was I during this momentous event? As my luck would have it, I was outside on the bridge. The Chief Signalman used high powered binoculars to read the relayed signal light messages coming from one of the three other ships accompanying us in the convoy.

      Earlier the other ships had been engaged in the use of high powered spying equipment, on the mountainous caves off the coast of Cuba. It was said they had been watching Guerilla training camps, getting head counts and marking positions. Now they were signaling the information to the Greenwood, as we were the flag ship, carrying onboard the Admiral of the sixth naval District. The Signalman would give me letter after letter as I copied the coded message.

      I was on mid watch, which meant I would have to be awake from midnight until eight A.M. After eight I was free to go to bed. But wait a minute! I had the top bunk, and we still were listing heavily (around 45 degrees) from side to side. I was exhausted, but when I’d almost fall asleep, a wave would hit and I would almost fall out of my bunk. I had to hold on to those pipes above my head to keep from having a serious fall. So sleep escaped me. Was I thrilled I had so brilliantly chose to join the Navy!

      In about two hours, the seas calmed down. We had at last passed the Windward Passage, and the sea was now much calmer. This was at around 10 A.M.; I slept until around 1 P.M., when all of the commotion and excitement going on around me woke me up.

      We were pulling into Guantanamo Bay. As we were docking a voice came over the ships intercom, announcing liberty would be given, and a bus was waiting to take any wanting to visit the Marine Exchange store.

      I had heard from the seasoned veterans about these Exchange stores abroad. It was said you could purchase items at a fraction of what they would cost in the states. This intrigued me so as tired as I was, I decided to board the bus and visit the Marine Exchange. I felt a little woozy as I walked off the ship to board the bus.

      It was a relative short drive to the Exchange. It was high up on a hill. You could look down and see the area where we were docked, beside the other ships in our convoy. I went inside to check out the prices and items for sale. Much to my amazement, I found I was still on that rocking boat. I would take one step forward, then a wave would hit, and I would go two steps backward. This is crazy, I was thinking. I’m not onboard that ship, I’m on dry land. There are no waves here! Yet somehow, despite what I knew and was telling myself, the reality of my situation seemed to escape me. I just could not stop these waves from rolling in and sending me off balance.

      I looked down at the floor which was tiled with one foot square black and white vinyl tiles. I was standing at the record rack, holding on for balance. I would still rock back and forth as the waves came and went. I observed the look of horror and shock on the faces of the women. They apparently were wives and daughters of the men stationed there, I knew from their looks just what they were thinking. “How could they allow this drunken Sailor in the store?”

      I knew from my rocking actions, it would be futile for me to try and tell them I was not drunk, in fact I don’t even touch the stuff. I thought I’m embarrassed enough; I’ll just buy a record and be on my way. Eager to get out of there, I picked out a record and proceeded to the front register to pay for it. Arriving, the lady at the cash register rang up my sale and informed