My tour of duty on the USS Mobile was a definite eye opener into Navy life for me. My first impression of was anything but hopeful as she sat in the water, holding a 10 degree starboard list at Pier 5, 32nd Street Naval Station. She was in bad need of a coat of paint. Polaroid snap shots of sailors restricted to the ship, wallpapered the Quarter Deck. Most of the black gang was either U.A. or restricted to the ship. I was more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, when I reported aboard Mobile for the first time.
I came aboard Mobile a week or so early just to visit and see what she looked like. It was after working hours when I came aboard. I couldn't scare up any HTs (Hull Maintenance Technicians,) I did find a few A-Gang sailors in their aft shop. While talking to these sailors, a fire drill was called away for the Section five fire party. After about ten minutes or so, three of the four guys I'd been talking to got up and left without a word being said. I thought it strange and asked the other remaining sailor why they took off. He said they were headed to the fire drill. The fire drill?!? Shortly after hearing this, I said good bye and headed to the Q.D. From there I could see a non-rate screaming at a hand full of sailors on the port side, forward cargo hatch. They had a fire hose out, but no other Damage control gear was in view. It wasn't a pretty sight at all, and they resembled the Chinese Fire-Party from Hell. I had enough education for one day, so I headed back to the USS Dixon, my current ship.
My next day on the Dixon was a day of dread. My visit to the Mobile was a definite eye opener. I had never witnessed such an unsatisfactory damage control evolution before. I wanted desperately to speak with my Dixon Fire-party Scene Leader, HTC Ezell, and get his input. He coached me and managed to work out a plan, he assured me I could pull it off.
After transferring to the Mobile I was assigned as Duty Section 5 Fire-party Scene Leader and Engineering Department Petty Officer. The same damned duty section I saw in action two weeks earlier. How lucky can a squid get? When I mustered the Sec. 5 Fire Party for the first time, I was missing five or six men out of thirteen! And no one seemed to care (My CPO and LPO each said, "Don’t make your problem, my problem. You deal with it.") I was on pins and needles all day. I've never lead men as a Fire-party Scene Leader before. I had barely a clue as to what I had to do, but what was I going to do about the missing men? Chief Ezell told me to stick to the plan and I couldn’t fail. Or at least my butt would be covered.
After ship's work knocked off I notified the O.O.D. of the when and where our Duty Section's fire drill would be held. I also made mention that I would give him a written request that we should go to "General Quarters" and muster our "Ship's Augmentation Force" if I could not muster a complete Fire Party, in full battledress, at the scene of the casualty, during the first three minutes of the drill. Well, the O.O.D. scoffed at me and said I must think he's nuts. I then quoted some NAVSHIPSREGS to him then told him I was prepared to relinquish my damage control duties to him alone, and that my dress blues would be ready for the Captain’s inspection. That zero took an instant dislike to me. He told me if he went down because of this, he’d be standing on my shoulders.
An hour later the drill went down. "Ding-a -ling-a-Ding!", Rang the Quarter Deck bell. "Fire! Fire! Fire!", Shouted the 1 MC. "Fire in the forward cargo bay access trunk, port side at, frame 46. Away the Duty Damage Control Fire party!" This was basically the same drill as I witnessed weeks earlier (I wanted to be able to see the port Quarter Deck.) I wasted my time in opening repair #2, the closest repair locker to the scene where damage control gear was stored. I guess I was the only one on-board that knew of it's existence. The Ex-Scene Leader found a red helmet w/o a liner and proceeded to simulate a nozzle man on a two and a half inch fire hose. It didn't matter to him that the hose wasn't unfaked from the hose rack. To him it was a big joke anyway. Three more guys did show for the drill. They were each subbing for guys that had already hit the beach. None knew what they were suppose to do. So far, this drill was looking pretty sad and getting worse. Hell, I didn't even have an electrician to secure power to the space. This Damage Control team was missing a total of nine men. After three minutes had lapsed, I sent a messenger to the O.O.D. with a pre-printed message requesting "G.Q." be sounded and an all hands on deck muster, so I could have some men to work with. "Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!", went the ships bell. "GENERAL QUARTERS!! GENERAL QUARTERS!! All hands man your battle stations!", shouted the 1MC. Then to really confuse the crew, "Muster the 'Augmentation Force', main deck, port side, aft cargo hatch!" None of the ship’s crew knew what "Augmentation Force" meant (And for you that don’t know, it’s any living creature left on board ship. After 3/4s of the ships crew having already hit the beach for liberty call, the crew was pretty thin pickings.)
They sure as hell didn’t know where their "In-port" G-Q Battle Stations were. This crew didn’t know what to do. After a few more tense moments, some of the crew started mustering at the aft cargo hatch.
No one seemed to want to get involved with my fire drill. A few of my fellow mates looked more than willing to abandon the ship though. The clock kept ticking. Nothing was happening. Thank God this wasn’t the real enchilada. I did felt a lot of eyes on me. My first messenger never came back. Now I was short ten men. I sent another messenger aft to bring back ten bodies to cover my losses, but he got lost also. The only members left at the scene was a big dummy with a clipboard(me), a goof-ball with a worthless fire-hose wearing a red helmet w/o liner, and this scrawny, pathetic looking, wide eyed mess cook fearing his deportation to the Philippines.
The USS Mobile was a ship in distress! Then came the moment of truth. I knew I was going to have to take a big bite of this shit sandwich I’d just made, yet I didn't have a clue as to what would really happen. I was about to meet the guy who would know how to deal with the problem, real soon.
Shortly after the G.Q. alarm stopped, I looked aft to the port Quarter Deck, and here was this real tall guy in khaki pants, a grandpa tee-shirt, shaving cream over half his face and the biggest damned golden draped hat you ever did see. Emerging from the ship’s superstructure was, Mr. MOBILE himself, Captain Sprunk. As the full bird was making his inquiries with the O.O.D., I saw the O.O.D. then point his spindly finger in my direction. Even though I was shaking like a dog shitting razor blades, I had to maintain the composure of Sgt. Rock. Anyway, this big bird was headed right towards me. I gave him a cordial salute. He returned my salute and asked me how I was doing (he was even toned, and sounded like a very nice man) and he asked me if I would please explain why his ship was brought to General Quarters. I told him my story, and he thanked me! The Captain thanked me! And he told me that I did the right thing(he didn't shake my hand though), then he saluted me and went back to the O.O.D. and secured us from our drill and General Quarters.
And that was the beginning of my tour of duty on the U.S.S. Mobile, LKA-115. I was right about having to have to take a big bite of this shit sandwich I’d made. And I did. Mr. Lewright, my Repair Division officer was besides himself with me (It wasn’t to be the last time I’d cause him to have hissy fits.) I ended up having to bring everyone inboard, up to date on their Damage Control qualifications. I sure made a lot of friends in a hurry. Or at least my name got around fast.
With the exception of Pearl Harbor, Chief Ezell said he couldn’t recall of another time in American history, where a U.S. Navy ship had went to General Quarters while in a home port.
Just another funny sea story for his goat-locker buddies I guess.
dz
I came aboard Mobile a week or so early just to visit and see what she looked like. It was after working hours when I came aboard. I couldn't scare up any HTs (Hull Maintenance Technicians,) I did find a few A-Gang sailors in their aft shop. While talking to these sailors, a fire drill was called away for the Section five fire party. After about ten minutes or so, three of the four guys I'd been talking to got up and left without a word being said. I thought it strange and asked the other remaining sailor why they took off. He said they were headed to the fire drill. The fire drill?!? Shortly after hearing this, I said good bye and headed to the Q.D. From there I could see a non-rate screaming at a hand full of sailors on the port side, forward cargo hatch. They had a fire hose out, but no other Damage control gear was in view. It wasn't a pretty sight at all, and they resembled the Chinese Fire-Party from Hell. I had enough education for one day, so I headed back to the USS Dixon, my current ship.
My next day on the Dixon was a day of dread. My visit to the Mobile was a definite eye opener. I had never witnessed such an unsatisfactory damage control evolution before. I wanted desperately to speak with my Dixon Fire-party Scene Leader, HTC Ezell, and get his input. He coached me and managed to work out a plan, he assured me I could pull it off.
After transferring to the Mobile I was assigned as Duty Section 5 Fire-party Scene Leader and Engineering Department Petty Officer. The same damned duty section I saw in action two weeks earlier. How lucky can a squid get? When I mustered the Sec. 5 Fire Party for the first time, I was missing five or six men out of thirteen! And no one seemed to care (My CPO and LPO each said, "Don’t make your problem, my problem. You deal with it.") I was on pins and needles all day. I've never lead men as a Fire-party Scene Leader before. I had barely a clue as to what I had to do, but what was I going to do about the missing men? Chief Ezell told me to stick to the plan and I couldn’t fail. Or at least my butt would be covered.
After ship's work knocked off I notified the O.O.D. of the when and where our Duty Section's fire drill would be held. I also made mention that I would give him a written request that we should go to "General Quarters" and muster our "Ship's Augmentation Force" if I could not muster a complete Fire Party, in full battledress, at the scene of the casualty, during the first three minutes of the drill. Well, the O.O.D. scoffed at me and said I must think he's nuts. I then quoted some NAVSHIPSREGS to him then told him I was prepared to relinquish my damage control duties to him alone, and that my dress blues would be ready for the Captain’s inspection. That zero took an instant dislike to me. He told me if he went down because of this, he’d be standing on my shoulders.
An hour later the drill went down. "Ding-a -ling-a-Ding!", Rang the Quarter Deck bell. "Fire! Fire! Fire!", Shouted the 1 MC. "Fire in the forward cargo bay access trunk, port side at, frame 46. Away the Duty Damage Control Fire party!" This was basically the same drill as I witnessed weeks earlier (I wanted to be able to see the port Quarter Deck.) I wasted my time in opening repair #2, the closest repair locker to the scene where damage control gear was stored. I guess I was the only one on-board that knew of it's existence. The Ex-Scene Leader found a red helmet w/o a liner and proceeded to simulate a nozzle man on a two and a half inch fire hose. It didn't matter to him that the hose wasn't unfaked from the hose rack. To him it was a big joke anyway. Three more guys did show for the drill. They were each subbing for guys that had already hit the beach. None knew what they were suppose to do. So far, this drill was looking pretty sad and getting worse. Hell, I didn't even have an electrician to secure power to the space. This Damage Control team was missing a total of nine men. After three minutes had lapsed, I sent a messenger to the O.O.D. with a pre-printed message requesting "G.Q." be sounded and an all hands on deck muster, so I could have some men to work with. "Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!", went the ships bell. "GENERAL QUARTERS!! GENERAL QUARTERS!! All hands man your battle stations!", shouted the 1MC. Then to really confuse the crew, "Muster the 'Augmentation Force', main deck, port side, aft cargo hatch!" None of the ship’s crew knew what "Augmentation Force" meant (And for you that don’t know, it’s any living creature left on board ship. After 3/4s of the ships crew having already hit the beach for liberty call, the crew was pretty thin pickings.)
They sure as hell didn’t know where their "In-port" G-Q Battle Stations were. This crew didn’t know what to do. After a few more tense moments, some of the crew started mustering at the aft cargo hatch.
No one seemed to want to get involved with my fire drill. A few of my fellow mates looked more than willing to abandon the ship though. The clock kept ticking. Nothing was happening. Thank God this wasn’t the real enchilada. I did felt a lot of eyes on me. My first messenger never came back. Now I was short ten men. I sent another messenger aft to bring back ten bodies to cover my losses, but he got lost also. The only members left at the scene was a big dummy with a clipboard(me), a goof-ball with a worthless fire-hose wearing a red helmet w/o liner, and this scrawny, pathetic looking, wide eyed mess cook fearing his deportation to the Philippines.
The USS Mobile was a ship in distress! Then came the moment of truth. I knew I was going to have to take a big bite of this shit sandwich I’d just made, yet I didn't have a clue as to what would really happen. I was about to meet the guy who would know how to deal with the problem, real soon.
Shortly after the G.Q. alarm stopped, I looked aft to the port Quarter Deck, and here was this real tall guy in khaki pants, a grandpa tee-shirt, shaving cream over half his face and the biggest damned golden draped hat you ever did see. Emerging from the ship’s superstructure was, Mr. MOBILE himself, Captain Sprunk. As the full bird was making his inquiries with the O.O.D., I saw the O.O.D. then point his spindly finger in my direction. Even though I was shaking like a dog shitting razor blades, I had to maintain the composure of Sgt. Rock. Anyway, this big bird was headed right towards me. I gave him a cordial salute. He returned my salute and asked me how I was doing (he was even toned, and sounded like a very nice man) and he asked me if I would please explain why his ship was brought to General Quarters. I told him my story, and he thanked me! The Captain thanked me! And he told me that I did the right thing(he didn't shake my hand though), then he saluted me and went back to the O.O.D. and secured us from our drill and General Quarters.
And that was the beginning of my tour of duty on the U.S.S. Mobile, LKA-115. I was right about having to have to take a big bite of this shit sandwich I’d made. And I did. Mr. Lewright, my Repair Division officer was besides himself with me (It wasn’t to be the last time I’d cause him to have hissy fits.) I ended up having to bring everyone inboard, up to date on their Damage Control qualifications. I sure made a lot of friends in a hurry. Or at least my name got around fast.
With the exception of Pearl Harbor, Chief Ezell said he couldn’t recall of another time in American history, where a U.S. Navy ship had went to General Quarters while in a home port.
Just another funny sea story for his goat-locker buddies I guess.
dz
3 comments:
Great story and don't doubt a word of it! Need more Mobile stories-sea stories or fairy tales. 70-72 Navigator.
Karl Shumaker
Love the Story also. I was on the Mobile in 1976. My brother was on the Dixon the same year.
Larry W.
I really liked this story of the Mighty Mo USS Mobile LKA115. I was a plank owner at the commissioning of the ship to 1973. I was very fortunate to served aboard the Mobile. I enjoyed every minute of it and came away with some strong friendships.
Ron Hartman
October 27, 2017
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