Never Again Volunteer Yourself
("NAVY")


Yep, never ceases to amaze me how wacked officers are. I have my own first hand experience from 1985 - about two months before I got out of the Navy.

I was a "guest" aboard a reserve ship in RI - the USS Miller a fast frigate. I was part of a command out of Norfolk that trained electronic warfare operators.

Anyway, I was given over to the ship to be part of the watch while it sat in port prior to departure.

I was given my white helmet, white belt and arm band with "SP" on it.

Finally, I was handed a '45 and a single magazine. I was given both simultaneously, and had to upbraid the guy since the muzzle covered me several times.

I immediately put the magazine in the pouch, and tried to rack the slide back to see if it was loaded.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if it's loaded," I said.

"It's not", he said.

"That's fine, I always check myself, thank you."

"What an asshole!"

I looked up, flabbergasted. "Don't we have to inventory the cartridges? The first rule of handling firearms is to assume they're loaded until you check them."

"Whatever. There're six bullets, sign here."

I was still tugging on the rack, trying to get it back. The safety was down, and the hammer was back. Ok. I grabbed the hammer and, pointing the muzzle over the side at the water, pulled the trigger to release the hammer. The hammer didn't move. Damn.

"When's the last time this thing was cleaned?" Remember, I was a guest aboard this ship. This guy was a Master-at-Arms, and was responsible for this stuff.

"I haven't any idea. Just sign this thing, I want to get the f*(k out of here."

The clipboard said that there was 6 "bullets", a whistle, armband, '45 pistol, helmet, flashlight, and belt. I didn't want to holster the .45 because I had pulled the trigger (dumb, I know), and it was not forward. I had tried to put the safety on, but it wouldn't budge. I had a VERY unsafe pistol, and I couldn't sign a stupid clipboard while pointing it over the side.

"Hold on, I can't do anything until I clear this pistol."

"What are you talking about?", he screamed. He tried to grab the gun (!) for some reason. I fended him off.

About this time, the watch officer strides up. He's a full lieutenant (equivalent to captain in the army). "What's up?"

"I'm trying to clear this pistol, to verify it's unloaded and this clown is trying to grab it from me."

"What do you mean by 'clear'?", the Lt. asks.

"Ensure that it is unloaded."

"I already told him, I unloaded it, but the asshole insists on checking it himself!"

The Lt. looks at me. "You are one of those from Norfolk, right?"

"Yes", I say.

"That's not the way we do things on this ship, sailor. This here is our Master-at-Arms, and his word is gold. So put that thing away and let's get on with it."

(Remember, I had less than 2 months to go. I was an E6 with an attitude)

"Begging the Lt's pardon, but I think I'll verify the status of this pistol myself, thank you. It is currently in a VERY unsafe condition, and I literally can't put it down until I clear it, uh, sir."

He gets red and starts yelling. "I said to put it DOWN, NOW!"

I then explain to him, that it may go off all by itself if I put it down. He doesn't believe me, and both the MAA & the Lt. are yelling at me, while I am pointing the stupid thing over the side, tugging at various parts to loosen them up.

The Lt. then asks a stupid question: "What makes you think you know more about guns than the Master-at-Arms? It's his job to distribute them."

I looked at the Lt. and said, "First, your Lieutenantness, I know that a firearm needs to be CLEANED. Second, I know that you don't hand somebody you don't know a pistol and point it at him at the same time. I know not to get offended if that person wants to see if it's loaded - that's the first rule of firearms safety. I know that this moron in charge of your firearms is endangering himself and everybody else with his reckless disregard of these issues. I know that I certainly wouldn't try to load or fire this gun without verifying its safety first."

The Lieutenant looked at me like I was a science experiment gone awry. "Of course you wouldn't load that gun! You're NEVER to put bullets in that gun! Didn't he tell you that?"

Astounded, I answered, "No he didn't. Why give me a gun if I'm not supposed to load it? Why give me a magazine with cartridges in it?"

"Because that's what you're supposed to get when you take watch."

"But I'm not allowed to load it or fire it?? That doesn't make sense! What happens if a bunch of Russians try to board without permission?"

He started yelling, "UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS THAT GUN TO BE LOADED! I DON'T CARE IF THEY'RE SHOOTING AT YOU! JUST BLOW YOUR WHISTLE AND WE'LL COME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, SAILOR?"

I nodded. "I don't claim to understand, Lt. That is a totally idiotic thing to say, and I certainly hope the Russians don't know your policy. But in any case, I won't sign that sheet until I clear this gun."

Both the MAA and the Lt. were becoming quite agitated at about this point, and both yelling at me, and cursing my command for screwing up their respective liberties. In the meantime, while keeping my thumb on the hammer, I finally managed to get the thumb safety engaged.

Though uncomfortable, I holstered the pistol and counted the cartridges. There were only 5. I sighed.

"What NOW???!", yelled the Lt.

"I only count five cartridges, I won't sign for six."

The MAA screamed back - "The SIXTH one is in the weapon!"

"But you said the weapon was unloaded a minute ago!"

"Well, I was wrong, it's in the weapon, now SIGN THIS!"

"No!"

"GIVE ME THE GODDAMNED THING! I'LL SHOW YOU!"

"I have not fully cleared the weapon, I do not trust you with it, and I do not want to get shot through your negligence. If you will give me a minute, and a screwdriver and some oil, I will attempt to clear it."

Lots of expletives from both. But I didn't want to get shot - seriously.

Finally, somebody on the dock overheard the commotion, and walked up the gangplank. Turned out he was a civilian, but a retired Marine gunny (sp?). He took in the conversation, and turning to me, "May I help you with that, son? I assure you I know the difference between a magazine and a clip, and the difference between a pistol and a revolver."

That was enough for me, and I handed it gingerly over to him.

It took almost 10 minutes (!!) with oil, pliers, and lots of muscle to rack that slide. When we did, low and behold, the sixth cartridge was in the chamber - stuck. The extractor couldn't get it out.

I signed the sheet (!). The Lt. and MAA left the ship. The gunny went to his car and came back with a cleaning kit. We spent 2 hours cleaning that weapon to within an inch of its life. The barrel was pretty pitted, but we couldn't do anything about that. We had a great time telling sea stories.

He also chucked the six rounds in the ocean, and gave me 7 (!) of his own.

When I was relieved that night at midnight, the oncoming sailor had been with the ship for 2 years. When I handed him the clipboard which said '7' cartridges on it. He was perplexed.

"When did they add another bullet?"

"Tonight, thought we'd make it a lucky number."

"Oh, ok."

I gave him the weapon with the slide racked. He didn't know how to get it forward; I showed him.

I left the Navy about a month later with 6 weeks of leave saved up. I hold absolutely no faith that the Navy can do anything right - except by accident.

Last note:

When I went through boot camp, we got 2 hours of instruction about the 1911 '45. And shot exactly ONE ROUND through the thing. It took less than half a day, and nobody remembered any of it.

'nuff said.

Copyright © 2001 by Neil Alexander