There was a shipmate who reenlisted in San Diego.
(If you look at the photo in yesterday's post, you can see him)
As radar operators were a critical rate, the Navy paid really good bonuses to those who re-upped.
$1500 was a lot of money back in 1963.
There was also that 30-day reenlistment leave that went with it.
(The leave was something that had to be earned at the rate of 2.5 days per month.
Everyone earned leave at the same rate.
It was the using of leave time that was difficult.
Usually the most one could hope for was two weeks . . .and that was only during special periods in the ship's schedule, like after a deployment or around Christmas.
A 30-day leave was reserved for those who committed to four more years.)
This particular shipmate was from Alabama and he was going home for the first time since he'd graduated from boot camp.
He had ample time on the books to take his 30 days and still have some in reserve.
In fact he had run the risk of losing some of those days because the Navy had a policy of use it or lose it for anything more than 60 days.
But I digress.
Shipmate departed the ship after quarters on a Monday morning.
Everyone wished him a safe trip and we all
Nobody thought much about him the rest of the day as we went about our normal routines.
Tuesday morning we were awakened at reveille to find him in his bunk sound asleep.
Was it the shortest 30-day leave in history?
Not exactly.
He had stopped at the Acey-Deucy club for an adult beverage after exiting the main gate of the base.
He topped off at a bar downtown near the Greyhound depot
He'd decided to save a few buck by hitchhiking home.
He'd decided that he could get better results if he wore his uniform.
He rode the bus to somewhere just east of San Diego and got off to catch a ride.
The first car to stop for him was the California Highway Patrol.
They decided to give him a break and return him to the ship, instead of turning him over to the Shore Patrol.
So, on Tuesday morning, after quarters, shipmate departed again.
He was already on leave.
I can save a lot of time here by telling you there is a five paragraph refrain.
(Just add in Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday)
He didn't get much further east than El Cajon on any of those days.
Finally, on Saturday morning, the Chief one of the two First Class, and the senior 2nd Class drove him to Lindbergh Field and watched him buy a ticket and board a plane to Alabama.
There isn't any more to tell.
What makes it a fairy tale is that I was only an observer and not a participant.
What I observed was somewhat humorous, if insane.
since just after 8
yesterday morning
*What’s the difference between a fairy tale and a sea story? A fairy tale starts with “Once upon a time” and a sea story starts with “So there I was”.(that previous line paraphrases another blogger's tagline)
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