The Night I Should Have Died

I don’t remember the date. I don’t remember the name of the storm. We were off the Va Capes, graveyard of the Atlantic. I remember the night well. I had the mid-watch in the shop onboard the USS South Carolina CGN-37. We dogged the mid-watch to two hours, not the normal four hours. That night it was two hours of hell.

On board, there were many groups. Among the Deck Apes and Snipes, we were the Twidgets. Being an ET, Electronics Tech, we stood a watch for the convenience of the ship. Many ET Shops did not stand a watch. Our job, if some of our equipment went down, wake the right person to fix it.

The Chief told us to prepare for high winds and heavy seas. It would be the opposite of a frozen pond. Instead of smooth sailing, it would be ruff. I had responsibility for the test equipment locker. There were no tie-downs on the shelves. I tied line across all the openings to the galvanized steel shelves that the Snipes made on the ship. They only sat on the deck. They were not secured to anything. I did not know what else to do.

The storm made walking on the ship very dangerous. When on a ladder, A “Stairway” between levels on the ship, as you bent your knee if a great wave threw up the ship. Your weight would increase many times, testing the strength of your legs. Next, a trough would drop the ship down, and you would step out to being weightless in the air. Then the ship would slam into you as the next wave pushed the vessel up. In both situations, you could miss the small next step and be thrown to the subsequent deck. Many are hurt, even die. Our EMO, Electronics Maintenance Officer, first wife was killed falling on a ladder. The ship was docked at the time.

When I got to the shop, to relieved Mike, my friend, he said, “Shit, Mark, I have had to hold on to the damn desk. It keeps trying to F ing come out of the damn mounts on the bitchin' deck, but it has not yet.”

I said, “The F ing EMO said to prepare for a storm, not liquid hell.”

Mike signed out of the log and said, “I had it. You got it.”

As Mike and I exchanged places at the desk, I said, “Lots of luck sleeping.”

It was one of those nights when you woke up more tired than when you went to sleep. You had to sleep on your stomach so you could hold on to your rack. Fall into a deep sleep and let go. You ended up on the deck. In the morning, your arms were sore.

As I sat at the desk, the rapid rise and fall, plus the heavy rolls side to side of the ship, was like riding a bucking bronco. I was tossed about like a red rubber ball. For many, the motion in an enclosed space made them very sick. I was lucky it did not bother me, much.

For the first hour, all I could do was hang on to the desk. Then as the storm’s attitude grew mean, we took a great roll. The HTs (Hull Techs) reported that night we took a 47-degree roll. The ship was only guaranteed to 45 degrees. Everything lose in the shop fell to the port side bulkhead, including me. Several missile objects hit me. One, the garbage can had grounds from the coffee they had made that day. That was now everywhere. That’s when I noticed we were tilted at a great angle. The ship would have normally started its roll back, but we hung. There was a shudder in the SoCar. Time seemed to stop. It was as if the ship could not decide what to do. And we hung. Then with a mighty groan, the ship started back. The metal cried in protest. In the space below me was a horrendous thud and the sound of things being thrown around from the impact. As the ship rolled, whatever was in the space below me rolled across the deck and smashed into the opposite bulkhead with a tremendous wham.

I asked myself, now just what was the space below me? I had to think. The answer did not come right away. When the answer came to me, I got one hell of a shot of adrenalin, Aft Torpedo.

I got on the bitch box to the bridge, and very excitedly, I said, “Pass the word for the duty Torpedo man to lay to aft torpedo, now! There is something big and heavy rattling around in the aft magazine.”

The Messenger of the Watch on the bridge said, “We are not passing the word after Taps. Things are rattling around on the whole ship.”

I screamed, “The aft torpedo magazine has something big and heavy in it slamming into the bulkheads! There is going to be an explosion! F it being after Taps. Can you hear that?”

I waited, nothing. What the hell were they doing? I was about to run from the shop when they passed the word. It took another five minutes of this thing pounding the bulkheads before it stopped. Just as I was going to see what the hell was going on in the torpedo magazine, the EMO walked into the shop.

He said, “Hi Mark, the ship has taken a pounding. What do you think the test equipment locker is like?”

I said, “Sir, it looks like Hell. You said to prepare for a storm, not our F ing deaths. You should have heard the God damn torpedo magazine a few minutes ago. I thought we were going to die.”

“Look, ET Two Stigers, The orders were secure the test equipment locker, let the Torpedo Men worry about their own shit. It better be in good condition, or you are on report.”

This guy was a heartless bastard. The whole shop hated him. He never stood up for us. Mike smoked the brand of cigarettes with his name.

Whenever he would walk into the shop, we said, “Hey Mike, how about giving me an asshole.”

He would say, “What one of these assholes, or a different one.”

The EMO would ignore us.

“Okay, ET Two Stigers, let’s go and check The Test Equipment Locker out.”

That made me mad. The only thing I could think was what an ass.

I got on the bitch box and said, “This is the ET Shop. I am moving the watch to check the Test Equipment Locker.”

We left, and I locked the shop. The EMO went down a level and walked forward. Instead of going down one more level then coming back up by the Locker so we could stay inside the ship, he opened the hatch to the athwartships passageway. It was open to the sides to the outside decks but covered. Someone had left a light on, a violation of darken ship. The storm made it all but impossible to keep a watch out, and none cared.

You could see the Raging Main. The Sea F ing boiled. Massive ten-foot waves were everywhere. They came up over the side of the ship. We were taking on green water over the bow. I was awed. As I could see the unimaginable power that was tossing us about like a child's toy. So was the EMO. He stood with his back to me.

The thought struck me that as the ship rolled violently side to side, I could grab the beam in the overhead and as the ship rolled, slam my feet into his back, and he would clear the lifelines by at least a foot.

As the ship rolled to the opposite way, I let it swing me back. As it rolled the other way, it threw me with great force towards the EMO’s back. When I slammed my feet down on the deck at the last second, it made a loud thud. I thought for sure he would turn around, but he did not. I argued with myself.

Do it!

No, I can’t. They will know it was me.

He is such an asshole. There are no watches. No one would even hear him scream.

No, what if I’m wrong and I have to fight with him at the lifeline?

Do it! He will not be missed until morning muster.

He just stood there. It was incredible. I was at war with myself. I tested again and swung with the roll. He would fly like twenty feet from the ship. I couldn’t take it any longer. He was such an ass. Just as I started to swing back for like the fifth time, he turned.

“That is amazing,” he said, “Now, let’s check the Test Equipment Locker.”

I reflected on what had just happened. I came within a nanosecond of killing someone. I followed him to the locker. I was stunned that I had decided to kill someone. I open the door, and everything was on the deck. Even the shelves had fallen, the test equipment, in its protective cases, rolled around to the wild motion of the ship.

“Unsat, put yourself on report tonight. Do you understand me, Petty Officer Stigers?”

I gave him one of the dirtiest looks I had ever expressed. I should have killed him at the first thought and been done with it.

Three months later, they were busting a torpedo man for dereliction of duty.

Everyone is in their dress uniforms at Captian's Mast.

The Captain said, “You are charged with Dereliction of Duty for sleeping on watch. What do you have to say to yourself?”

He said, “You all have a lot of balls, charging me with Dereliction, you own officers covered up that, on the night of the storm. The orders were just to leave the last torpedo on the dolly and lash that down instead of going through the time and effort to put it away properly. Well, it broke free and slammed into the bulkhead destroying it. It also knocked lose five depth charges off the bulkhead rack. When I got the word to lay to the torpedo room, I was shocked to see the torpedo rolling around with the depth charges. I was told to never talk about this, well I am, talking.”

The Captain flipped his lid. There was a court-martial, people busted, careers ruined, but I have learned a valuable lesson, and now normally, I act at the first opportunity.