That November day so many years ago...

My Eternal Father 

He the product of his era, another one who was (and remain) the finest of their generation as Brokaw once said... “the greatest generation.” His enlistment into the Navy at age fourteen, was for him the burning desire to fight and not be left behind since his five older brothers were already serving in U.S. armed forces or U.S. merchant marines (hailed from a working class family of twelve). He experienced much during the war years in the Pacific (three ships sunk beneath them all) and the Navy bestowed and confers its highest honor and then has to reconcile the record years later which was never ever done correctly but he didn’t really care especially for honors or medals or punishment, as the Navy would be his life for over three decades. In his love of country, duty and in his service he always believed and he always could see well ahead. He met a South Boston gal while TDY at Charlestown Navy Yard in Boston and they had two sons. Now stationed at Newport Navy Yard, he goes for a long sea deployment. When he returns he is told that his two sons (youngsters really) had grabbed a large pan of boiling water left unattended on a stove top. This caused the oldest such intense pain that his mind was lost for forever (institutionalized to this very day) and the other brother (named after his brother Marine Div. 1 KIA at Guadalcanal) was severely burned and as well was never quite right in his mental facilities or his entire adult life. Well he dispensed immediate swift reaction and anger… she was divorced and the sons abandoned to her care for all her days. He returned to the sea. 

When it happened that my paternal father abandoned ship as it were and left the family to fend for themselves… My uncle would become over time my eternal father. He instructed me on duty and the service through actual reality (on deck and in Newport bay and Norfolk) and all given freely what he has learned and the traditional rites of passage for "a sailor" and his core values and his ability to extend the limits of colorful language. The master chief came into the 60s with a choice and that was, I will yield and go the mustang way. The Navy's handling of the Captain of USS Indy CA-35 would forever galvanize his attitude and his deep resentment for non-mustang officers. He hated academy officers (I cannot repeat his word), but he always respected the Captain on the bridge and a good XO. And became one - the irony was always inexplicable a real can of explosives - so I never asked again. He always told me he knew his karma, Karma is a concept and then a belief he picked up while stationed in Japan. Not a religious man, but he was very spiritual and tuned-in to events and to people and especially about the traditions of the Navy, of sea lore and maritime heritage. He said, I am going to die at sea and I will never die in my hammock or bunk or on land in a bed. He possessed the ability to motivate and stimulate his crew and he could relate to anyone (with or without the salty barnacles) and schmooze the top brass, a greenhorn yardbird or ensign, a young squid or a lazy ass fat Chief.  He was proud of his service ribbons but he rarely wore them and he NEVER spoke about his torments. The only occasions was when his neighbor a city policeman and Army survivor from the death march of Bataan and they would hunker down in his rumpus room and hit the hooch and hit it very hard. The pain and the cruelty always rose to the surface and with a terrible gale force (Hurricane J his friend would call him). This is how I learned about the horrors of war and of what they did as young men and how much it enhanced and as well detracted their souls and their dreams and their ambitions. He was fearless but never reckless, he always knew what he doing although most around him thought him “a force of the sea” and they had great respect or just hated his guts – but they respected the rank and I think they really admired him but not as much as I loved him. 

He would die at sea years later after his USN retirement this month, this day.  She was a harbor tug,  top heavy with an undersized rudder and woefully under-powered not meant for the open waters of Massachusetts Bay. It was surmised that a rogue wave knocked her over. Lost at sea and his remains were never recovered.  

He had much to live for to return to his home port, to his wife and his two girls and a good life,  but the sea wanted payment for all the times he cheated death. This is the sailor's debt owed as the sea always wins when a debt is owed to Davey Jones. He took a risk and lost this time, He took so many risks most all his life and always had survived but this time the sea won and for eternity.  

Captain, rest easy in the deep…on your everlasting patrol.