This Is a No Sh***Ter

© Copyright 2013 Willard DOC Howard.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-4045-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-4047-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-4046-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012919029

Trafford rev. 10/08/2012

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CONTENTS

Introduction

1     Boot Camp

2     Life of a Sailor

3     Guantámano, Cuba

4     First Ship

5     Morehead City, North Carolina

6     Just Looking

7     Female Sex Desires

8     Women in the Navy

9     Port-au-Prince

10   Puerto Rico

11   St. Thomas

12   Jamaica

13   Panama

14   San Diego, California

15   Mexico

16   Colombia

17   Chile

18   Male Streetwalker

19   Life in a Whorehouse

20   Liberty with Little Money

21   Welcome Home! Guess Who Doesn’t Live Here

22   Grandma and Grandpa’s Whorehouse

23   Brothers

24   Hot Time in the Sun

25   Getting Respect

26   In the Pits

27   The Innocent Gets the Blame

28   Shipmates

29   Friends in Need, Friends for Life

30   Regardless of the Cost

31   Mixed Marriage, Mixed Feelings

32   Admirals of My Navy

33   For Love

34   Margaritas

35   Gemstone

36   VW Trip

37   Singapore

38   My Filipino Bar

39   Germany

40   Australia

41   China

42   Keelung, Taiwan

43   Korea

44   Know-It-All

45   Pago Pago

46   Diego Garcia: Girls’ Night Out

47   Navy Blue + Army Green = Black Results

48   London, England

49   France

50   Poland

51   Thailand

INTRODUCTION

I had a naval career that was a dream come true. I grew up in the city, and my only exposure to the world was in textbooks in school, learning history and using the world atlas. I never for one second thought that I would meet presidents of the United States, have tea in the White House, meet the queen of England at Buckingham Palace or meet Prince Charles and Princess Diana of England, dine with royalty of Norway and Belgium, kiss the ring of two popes, receive blessings from three different popes in Vatican City, or go to Israel and Egypt—traveling and seeing locations that were only words in history books, atlases, or in the Holy Book. They became real and tangible, visiting places in the world where history was made, such as Greece, Italy, Turkey, Germany, Poland, France, England, Denmark, Belgium, Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, Africa, China, Korea, Japan, Hawaii, Philippines, and other locations throughout Europe, Asia, and the world. I rode camels by the Pyramids in Egypt, elephants in a teakwood forest in Thailand, visited the Glow Worm Cave in New Zealand, went on a kangaroo roundup in Austria, watched polar bears on icebergs in the Arctic Ocean, and fed penguins in the Antarctica Weddell Sea. I have been around the world. I can stand facing east in the city of Istanbul, knowing that I arrived at the same point from the west (the same city; only the name had been changed).

I have known and worked with some of the best Americans to have lived and died for their country. Americans from New York to California, from Alaska to the Hawaiian Islands, Florida to Washington State, and all states, towns, and cities in between. Americans are made of people of different backgrounds but have one main thing in common: they are humans as well as sailors and can do some dumb things without giving them too much thought. But they are American sailors, so they are not totally stupid. I met Americans I did not like, as well as ones that I created a strong caring for and kept lifetime friendships with. I have met Americans who had strong disagreements with the government, but they did things that were un-American. I have known Americans who would give up their lives so that other people of the world could have a better life, and I know many that did in fact give the total of what their country sent them out to do in foreign countries. I have no regrets about my service to my country, and I do not feel ill toward those that decided that the military was not their way of life. One thing that I strongly believe in is accepting the consequences of you decision and not blaming others for what you decided to do or failed to do. Also, once you agree to serve your country, you fulfill your word and contract. Once you start running from your word and agreement, you run for the rest of your life. Don’t start; therefore, you never have to stop.

I love my country and those that serve this great country; may she live forever in principal and freedom for all and not for a select few. God bless American and its people. I shall be indebted to this great nation for allowing a city boy like myself to become a better person, understanding that people are people around the world and that only the location where they live is different. I also try to remember that I was the foreigner in their country and that my money was the funny money.

In this collection of stories, I hope to share with you a side of the navy that most people are unaware of and is known only to those that have lived and experienced these events. These stories are about people who were placed in situations that they had to handle. Sailors are people like all of you; they come from the general public and bring with them into the navy many of their problems and situations that are found in the world outside of the military.

Some readers will revisit places of bygone times. Incidents will not be the same as it was for them, but to remember will be true to their recollection as to the way it was when they were there.

In the navy, when you start to tell a story, someone who is listening will comment, Is this another sea story or a no-shitter? This is a no-shitter.

This is a book for sailors who love the sea and for every dreamer who wants to see the great places where people live in, in this round marble in the universe called Earth.

CHAPTER 1

Boot Camp

I was on vacation in Monroe, Michigan, with cousins for the summer. I had no intentions of joining any military service. I had a scholarship to attend the University of Cincinnati in the fall of that year.

One of my cousin friends came by the house and was on his way to talk with the navy recruiter and asked that my cousin and I walk with him to the courthouse where the navy recruit officer is located. I agreed, and we went with him.

We let him go in by himself and waited outside. A short time later, the navy recruiter came out and asked us if we would like to come inside; he had some cold drinks, and we could wait there for our friend. We entered, received our cold drinks, and took chairs on the wall near the entrance. I listened to what was being said about the navy and the opportunities available after enlisting in the navy. My cousin’s friend decided that he would like to join the navy and was told that he had to go to Detroit for a physical and service admission testing. The recruiter suggested that it would be a good trip for all of us and that we did not have to enlist or anything like that. He would cover the cost of the Greyhound bus, and a free meal in Detroit would be provided, and we would also have a chance to see the city of Detroit. What did we have to lose? So I agreed to go to Detroit.

We took an early bus, like 4:30 AM, for the two-hour ride. We got to Detroit, had breakfast at one of the local breakfast eateries, and walked down to the post office where the navy recruiting station was located. There was a bus parked at the curb of the post office, and we were told that the bus would take us to the testing site and have us back by the end of the day. We boarded the bus, and it was a short trip to the test site. The morning was taken up with tests. At lunch break, the meal was provided at the testing site. In the afternoon, it was physical body testing and body checks. Hearing was tested, blood was taken, ears and mouth were inspected, and the eyes were also tested, and yes, the old rubber glove with the sausage finger was also part of the examination, as well as the holding of the testicle and coughing—I think the person was doing testicle weight comparing of the recruits as he walked from one person to the other. We were told to dress and take seats in the waiting area at the entrance of the examination building.

After everyone in the waiting area shouted, the bus was ready to take us back to Detroit. We got on the bus and were taken back to the post office, a few blocks from Cadillac Square. Upon our arrival at the post office, we were told that we were free to do whatever we wanted. Those that needed transportation to the bus station or the train station could reload the bus, and we would be dropped off. So we reloaded on the bus to be taken the bus station.

We had about three hours on our hands before the bus left for Monroe, so we decided to walk about and see the sights. The area looked a lot differently at night than it did early in the morning. This was not a place that you would go for a friendly summer evening walk to get a breath of fresh air. The walk was short and educational. I now knew what some people call the ghetto or the slums, and the people scared me. Although this was in the main part of the town, with lots of people around and moving traffic, I still did not feel very comfortable being in the middle of downtown Detroit. I returned to the bus station and waited for the bus to take me home.

Several weeks passed, and my friend had not heard from the navy recruiter, or at least that was what he told my cousin and me. I started to think, since I have not heard from him either, maybe something was wrong with me, physically or mentally. Therefore, I called the recruiter and asked him what was going on. Was there something wrong with me or what? He told me that I passed the entire test, but my friend was not accepted for reasons that he was not able to tell me, and he thought that since my friend had not passed, that I would not be interested in going into the navy. He told me if I decided to go into the navy to let him know that he had some good deals for me to consider.

Going into the navy started planting a game into my head. I could not get the thought to go away. I had it on my mind all the time, during the day at night, even while I was watching a movie or a television program. It was getting to me: should I go into the navy, or should I go back to Cincinnati and go to college? I had registered for the draft. It was the law at time, and there was a chance that I could get drafted and be placed in the army and become a soldier. I had these reoccurring dreams—starting when, I do not recall—that I was on a ditch in a battlefield dressed as soldier. I stuck my head out of the ditch to see what was going on, and I got hit with a bullet between my eyes. There was no way that I was going to be a soldier, maybe a member of the air force. I made up my mind that I was going to join the service and get my obligations out of the way.

I called the air force recruiter on the phone. The phone kept ringing. I tried several times, and no one answered the phone, or the line was busy. Thinking about it now, it was more busy than ringing, and no one was answering the phone. I think one tries to justify their action or inactions.

I walked up to the navy recruiter’s office and talked with him about joining the navy. Since I had taken all of the tests and passed, the only decision that I had to make was between San Diego or the Great Lakes Boot Camp site. I chose San Diego and when I would leave for Boot Camp. It was decided that I would leave in ten days for San Diego, go to Detroit, get sworn in, and take a plane from Detroit to San Diego, California. I had to let my family know what I had decided.

I told my aunt and uncle what I had planned to do and asked if they would tell my mother, because I knew it was going to upset her. They would not have any part of this… it was my responsibility to notify my mother and dad. After a few days, I finally built up the courage to call home. Dad was not there, so I told my mother that I was going to join the navy. At first, she strongly opposed and wanted me to wait until after I talked with my dad before I did anything that I might regret later. But she also told me that if this was what I wanted to do, she would support me. I knew that my dad was not going to support me, and I did not really want to have a conversation with him, and I kept finding excuse after excuse not to call and talk with him. When he called my aunt and uncle’s house, I would not be there. In truth, I would not take the phone and talk with my father. Finally, the day came that I had to leave to go to Detroit. My uncle would not drive me to the bus station, because he knew my father would get upset at him. I got a friend to take me to the bus station. It was not a happy morning when the bus left Monroe for Detroit. The morning was just a kickoff for my first day of living hell.

On the bus to Detroit, I had my mother and father on my mind and what they thought of me going into the navy. So I was not in the best state of mind when I arrived at the navy recruiter’s office in the post office building to be sworn into the navy. Coffee and pastries were available, and everyone was real friendly. We were asked to go into this large room; we had to provide ID verification for entry. A naval officer came into the room, and we were asked to raise our right hands and take an Oath of Allegiance to the United States and the Constitution. We did what we were asked to do. The recruiter congratulated us and told us that we were now official members of the United States Navy and are Blue Jackets. We were directed to leave the room. We all started to talk at one time as we walked out of the room into the hall. A sound vibrated in the hallway: ATTENTION ON DECK. Everyone stopped in midstep and midsentence, and there was the sound of silence as we looked in the direction where the shout had come from. What is the meaning of ‘attention on deck’? The sound had come from a navy person that stood about five feet, four inches tall at the most, with a look that would stop at ten-day clock on his face; and I thought, Welcome to the navy! What have you gotten yourself into? The next few minutes became blurred. I do not recall what happened. I remember only that we were lined up in one long line, one in front of the other, on one side of the room; and our names were being called out, and we’re being told to go and join this or that group on the other side of the hall. I did what I was told to do, and the next thought that I recall is that we were walking down the hall, then down the stairs, with our individual luggage in hand; and as we exited the building, a bus was there waiting for us, and off we went to the train station. I now know what sheep, cows, and animals go through being herded.

We are placed in a holding area (pin) and were told not to leave the area (four-sided wall); there were only two exits—the one we came in and one that we will be leave by, we hope. After forty-five minutes of talking, smoking, going to the restroom, and getting water from the water fountain, the door opened at the far end of the room; and we were told to enter and bring our luggage with us. We followed and exited the room. At the end of the passageway was a train platform, with a train waiting. We were directed to a particular train car full of seats, where the top section of the seat could flip back and forth. We took a seat, first come first served. This navy person was with us and told us, This would be your home for the next ten to twelve hours until we get to Chicago… Chicago? I thought. The navy man continued, We will then take local transportation to Recruiter Training Center, Great Lakes. Everyone will be provided a meal ticket to use in the dining car. Any questions? I raised my hand like a schoolboy but did not get recognized. I then shouted out that I was supposed to go to San Diego. Everyone laughed. The navy man walked down the aisle to me and looked me in the eyes and said, Tuff shit. Take it up with the people at the Great Lakes. No one is going to leave this train. Sit down and enjoy the ride. He then walked away. I did take a seat for about thirty seconds, and I was up on my feet on the way to the restroom, where I cried for about five minutes. I washed my face and dried my eyes and returned to my seat, looking out the window as my perfect world I had been living in started to pass before my eyes. I was losing any control of my life. At least I could talk with my parents, but not with this navy person and most likely any navy person. I was now a nobody, a slave to what every navy wanted to do with me. My life (what life?) was beginning to feel the heat and flames of hell. I did not have a razor blade. I had not started to shave yet. Thank God for small favors. I just kept my eyes on the window and sat there, missing the meals in the dining car, and I did not enjoy the ride to Chicago.

When the train arrived in Chicago, we had to change trains going on to the Great Lakes, and we had a two-hour layover. I decided it was time for me to call home and let them know that I had entered the navy and where I was on my way to. I really did not want to call, but I forced myself to pick up the phone and dial the operator and make a collect call to my parents. It was after 8:00 PM Chicago time, and I think it was 9:00 PM Cincinnati time. The phone rang several times before it was answered; it was my mother on the line. I told her that I had joined the navy and that I was in Chicago waiting for a train to the Great Lakes and that I was doing fine. I heard my father in the background, asking who was on the phone, and my mother told him it was me. He asked her to ask me when was I coming home and if I needed any money. She did not ask any of his questions. She said she would talk to him and let him know that I was not coming home soon and that I had enlisted in the navy. We were silent for a few seconds, and then she told me to write her as soon as I got a mailing address, that she loved me, and I told her that I loved her too; and the phone went dead. I knew that my mother was hurt, and as soon as my mother talked with my father, he too would be hurt and, in this case, mad as hell at me. One more flame of hell added to my life.

The train to the Great Lakes arrived, and off we went to the great unknown. We arrived, and again, a cattle drive occurred off the train: line up, follow the leader down the train platform, go down the stairs, walk down the street, enter the main gate to the base, walk down the road, enter the barracks, put your luggage on the floor next to a bunk, take the bedding of sheets and blanket, put the sheet on the mattress, put the pillow cover on the pillow, then place the blanket at the end of your bunk, take a shower (it wasn’t my first time taking a shower with other guys, but putting twenty-five or more men in the space with twelve showerheads was just a little too close for comfort, and if the soap dropped, you did not bend over to pick it up, if you know what I mean). Change your underwear and wait for the lights to be turned off, then go to bed. The cattle would now rest for the night under the watch eye of the cowhand (navy spy). The first full day as a puppet in the navy.

Morning came early, like 5:30 AM. Someone was using the lid of a metal trash can bagging the side of the metal can, and lights were turned on—blinding—from all over the place. I did not notice the many lights in the ceiling the night before. This new voice was telling us to get our asses dressed and moving, leaving in five minutes for the mess hall. He was right; those that were able to dress left dressed, and those that were not dressed were still dressing as we walked in a group of twos toward the mess hall. At the end of the barracks building, before we got on the main street that led to the mess hall, we stopped and waited for those that were still dressing to finish. Then on down the street to the mess hall.

When we arrived at the mess hall, we were told to line up behind the group in front of us, waiting to get into the mess hall. Asshole to Bellybutton I kept hear around me from every direction. These voices wanted us to press the front part of our bodies to the backside of the person in front of us, therefore taking less space up in the waiting line. It was not a choice, if you did or did not want to, because you were being pressed by the person behind you, forcing you to comply with the voices shouting Asshole to Bellybutton. Slowly move a caterpillar’s insect group moving toward the entrance to the mess hall. At the mess hall entrance was a set of stairs. That was when the comfort zone returned and remained that way during the meal. You walked down the cafeteria line with a metal tray sectioned for food to be placed into that area. You held out the tray. The person on the other side of the line would put something into that section, and you walked on down the serving line until you got to the end, then you found a seat at a table and tried to eat whatever they called the food put on your tray. Just when you started to feel comfortable, a navy person would come to the table and tell you that you are finished, dump your tray, and join your company outside. Company, that was a new word; I put that on my new word list with what I learn about every stuff that they had put on my meal tray. I joined my company outside and thought that we were going back to the barracks.

It was not the barracks we were going to, but to a large building that looked like an airplane hangar, and we were told to take a seat in this one area with table and chairs provided. I took a seat and table space, and shortly thereafter, a navy person was handing out booklets, pencils, and sheets of paper to each of us; and the navy person was telling each of us as the items were being handed out not to open the booklets until told to do so. There must have been two hundred people in this large area. Everyone was talking, and it reminded me of being inside the gym during a basketball game and the sound of the crowd. Over the loud speaker, we were told to get off our seat and stand behind them with our hands over our heads, and to leave pencils and booklets on the desk in front of us. After everyone in the room compiled, we were then told to take our seat, and that we were being tested, and that we were to follow instructions before making any entries with pencil on paper or before opening the booklet. I felt like I was back in kindergarten again. I followed the instructions, and for the next three hours, it was one test then another test, followed by a test again. No one told me or anyone else in the room how important these test would be concerning our future in the navy for occupational training, duty assignments, and eligibility for advancements. Finally, it was time for lunch, back to the asshole to bellybutton formation outside the mess hall—hell—I know I have to smell the back a person who may or may not have bathed. That really puts me into the mood to eat—whatever they call that stuff served in the mess hall.

After lunch, the company was off to see the doctors and dentist… No time for the toothbrush or an extra wipe of the ass before seeing the dentist and the doctor. The dentist was first. We were all given a paper cup and were told to put water into the cup, then put the water into our mouths, and move the water about, pushing water between the teeth, and then spit it out. This was to be done,