I was on the old ships of the new navy. The two I got to see at their last deployments both had a hulk number sixteen. The sweet sixteens. In old age. Training up the new navy. On one. Refitting the other new navy on the other. On the training carrier we also broke in the third new navy as a first. Lady to lady as it were.
On the Lady Lex the new navy we trained up was top gun. Not to be confused with gun decks which have many meanings in the old navy. The new navy got their wings from the Lex. The old guys in the new navy kept their wings on the Lex. Mostly from The Body Of Christ but not all. Some old guys kept em from home port.
The third new navy landed on the Lex about thirty days before I did. Those mostly young gals loved to hear stories of blue ocean sailing and overseas ports of call. They were not too fond, nor anyone else but I, of forty foot waves around hurricanes. I had the pleasure of riding those big girls on each ship. 40 foot waves that is.
The first punishment uncle sam’s navy come up with for getting booted out of et school was a rust bucket that hadn’t seen stateside for seven years. Happy Gilmore. Neither had the hand me down fowl weather jacket the petty third gave me when I arrived that December strait out of fire school and scared of any puff of smoke.
We refitted the nuke attack subs there. And killed an honorable gentleman when a mooring line broke. All for Liberty. He looked at me last. I hated that. The oldest of the new navies was the silent service. Bubbleicious duty I guess. That’s where I was told by an old salt two things you never do. Jump out of a perfectly good airplane and go on a cruise to sink the ship on purpose.
I watched someone die doing one and another die helping do the other.
At least the girls lived. A few broken bones at most. (Different line second ship never broke it only slipped).
That’s your new navies. Now this space thing …….