Captain's Personal Log
U.S.S. Wallace B. Binghamton DD 773
CO—CDR Jonas Grumby, USN
September 17, 1959
The fact that this is my last deployment aboard the "Leadbottom" is really starting to sink in. Early this morning, I reported aboard the Kearsarge for my promotion physical. The Doc, a Lieutenant Commander Quincy, gave me the usual nonsense of watching my diet and beer consumption, but he did proclaim me "surprisingly healthy."
Once Quincy was done poking and prodding me, I had an appointment with the carrier group commander. The Admiral shook my hand, and congratulated me for being promoted to Captain. After this deployment, I will be having my own destroyer squadron in the Caribbean. The Admiral also sent his regards to my executive officer. Chuck Parker was actually his exec. on a PT Boat during the war. I then shared some strictly non-regulation scotch with Admiral McHale and headed off to personnel to give some new recruits a ride to their new ship.
Of course, most of the recruits were shocked to see their Captain personally give them a ride to their new command. I couldn't tell half the time if it was the gig's engine knocking or the sailors knees. Those kids were just sitting scared in on my boat. That is all but one. A skinny Irish kid. He acted like the short trip from the carrier to the destroyer was some three-hour ocean tour.
There was something about that kid, and it was racking my brain for the whole trip. It wasn't until we had the Binghamton in sight that it occurred to me. The kid loved the ocean. Some captains like the boot polishing 4.0 drilling sailors, but give me the kid with the goofy grin any day. I can teach a kid to be a sailor, but I can't make him love the sea. In my 20-plus years in the navy, I have seen far too many chiefs, and yes-- even commanders, with foul moods wanting to return to port within a couple days after shoving off. I can tell this kids different. To him, this isn't a job, its an adventure. It is odd to see a kindred spirit in this boy over 20 years my junior.
The petty officer in charge had the skinny smiling kid throw the line to the ship. The young black-haired sailor had a lot to learn about tying knots. I should have been a bit more careful-- I almost ended up in the drink. I, of course, could not let this slide. The kid would never learn. It was then I learned his name. Seaman Recruit Willy Gilligan.
I checked in with LCDR Parker. It would seem we rescued an eclectic group in a broken down speedboat. Tinker in engineering said the boat they came in could outrun pretty much anything he's seen. That tells me a lot, as Tinker used to crew on the racing boat circuit before joining the Navy. Parker also told me to prepare myself, that the some of the survivors are in pretty bad shape. I assured him that I'd seen quite a bit in my day. I kind of wished I had listened to Chuck. I really wasn't prepared for what I saw when I checked in on our guests in the wardroom.
The big one looked a lot like Frankenstein. He was pouring hot sauce on the Chief's "special Arizona Red" chili. Before I could warn him, the big guy took a healthy spoonful of some of the hottest chili I have ever eaten with hot sauce on top of it. I could have sworn I actually saw smoke coming from his ears. The older gentleman looked like he just might turn into a bat right in front of me, right along with the dark haired woman. There was also a boy, at least I think it was a boy. If I thought Parker could come up with a prank this elaborate, I would swear this is a joke as part of my promotion/farewell party. Then, much to my surprise, I saw a stunning blond. If that wasn't enough, Seaman Recruit Gilligan was singing a fairly decent imitation of Screaming Jay Hawkin's "I got a Spell on You" while he was supposed to be serving our guests. I probably would have enjoyed the young man's "performance" if it were liberty call at San Diego nightclub, but this is a naval vessel at sea. There are very strict expectations of a destroyer's crew, as well as its captain.
I introduced myself to who I learned were the Munster family. I then apologized for the behavior of Seaman Gilligan. I then proceeded to lecture SR Gilligan on appropriate naval decorum around guests of the vessel. SR Gilligan daily duties are as follows until further notice: 12 hours working in the scullery, four hours studying the Blue Jacket's Manual, and eight hours restricted to rack. I will periodically check in on SR Gilligan, and will modify his duty assignments as he shows progress in his studies of the "Navy Way."
/s/
Jonas Grumby, Commander,
United States Navy
