A White Set of Cracker Jacks

When I was in the Navy in the Nineteen Eighties, McNamara had given the Navy business suits for uniforms. No style, just a nasty business suit. The Navy was unimpressed. They asked that some modern Cracker Jacks be made available. When the white uniform came out, I bought a set. I thought I looked hot in them. Little did I know the Officers had noticed me, and I would be sorry I bought them. I had the POW (Petty Officer of the Watch) when we pulled in to port. The Captian was OOD (Officer Of the Deck). I was not sure what to think.

We were coming back from the Med cruise. The night before we returned, the Officers held a Customs inspection. The officers took all the contraband, stuff like Italian Pornography. They exactly knew what they were looking for confiscating. The bag that they were collecting ended up on the quarterdeck.

The watch was a madhouse. There must have been seventy people waiting on the fantail for their Loved ones. I had to make sure that we maintained security.

To carry the Forty-Five, I had to qualify. I was the best shot on the ship, much to the chagrin of the gunner mates. We had a Petty officer in our section who refused to carry a gun. I thought he was a jerk because the was one less person for rotation of the watch.

We stood around the ship as a show of force when we pulled into port. Some of the crew was released, and others were changing from their uniforms to civvies to go. The fast ones were leaving.

A man came on board, and I said, “May I help you?”

He said, “I’m the customs agent. Why are all these people on this ship?”

I said, “They are the family of the ship’s crew that are leaving.”

The Captain looked over at him and said, “There is your bag of contraband.”

The Captian went back to talking to the wives of the crew.

I picked up the bag and handed it to him.

He said, “Oh no. You get everyone back on board and get these civilians off the ship now. I’m holding a proper inspection.”

The Captain frowned and said in a booming voice, “My Officers are sworn agents, and this is their confiscations. Take it, and then get the hell off my ship buster.”

Then the fool said the stupidest thing I ever heard said to a Captain of a US Navy ship.

He said, “Until the ship clears customs, this is my ship.”

The Captain exploded and said, “This is my ship. These are my men. They do what I say. Petty Officer of the Watch, shoot this man.”

I said, “Really, Sir.”

The Captain blew his top and screamed as he said, “I gave you a direct order, Goddamn it. carry out your orders, NOW!”

As the Captain screamed at me, I grabbed the gun, slammed the magazine in place, chambered a round, and pointed at the fool’s face before he finished.

The only reason I did not shoot him was at this range. The bullet would go through three people before it stopped.

Everyone was looking at me, and the loaded gun pointed at this clown.

I said, “I got a direct order to shoot you, buddy. What are you going to do?”

He looked around. Everybody was looking at him. He looked at me and saw my trigger finger was beside the gun, not on the trigger. He started to smile. I put my finger on the trigger, and his eyes grew wide.

He turned around, and as he ran from the ship, he stopped on the brow, turn back to us, and said, “This is not over. You will hear from me. I’ll be back with an army of armed men.”

We never heard from him again. I think the Captain was disappointed I did not shoot him.

When I asked if I did that right, he just grunted. He threw the bag at the back bulkhead of the alcove that was the space for the Quarter deck.

Much later, when I was applying for a security clearance, the woman asked, “Have you ever disobeyed a direct order?”

I said, “Sure I have.”

I told her the story. She was not amused. We will check in to this. Did you go to Captain’s Mast?

I said, “No, are you kidding. It was not a valid order.”

I think she thought I should follow my orders. What about you? What would you have done?