VC-12 / VAW-12 Newsletter January 2009

Website: www.vc12vaw12.org  All the old newsletters are there;

Members list: www.vc12vaw12.org/members/members.html

Contact me for rosters of the detachments you were on. We are continually adding to this database. (rgs@coho.net) 

We are now at over 1900 members and know of 750 deceased men in addition.

Chairman: Richard Bray 765 Hosmer Rd Churchville, NY 14428 585-538-4252 Cell: 585-576-0595 leighbray@hotmail.com

Past Chairman: Edward Seykowski 607 N 70 E Valparaiso, IN 46383 219-462-3636 edseykow@juno.com  FAX 219-462-2168

Treasurer, Scribe, & Membership Chairman for dues:

Roger G. Smith, MD Office: 561 SE Oak St  Hillsboro, OR 97123

Home: 34464 SW Firdale Rd Cornelius, OR 97113 503-628-2229 home; FAX 503-693-9109; Cell 503-407-8436 rgs@coho.net

Dues are $10 a year for those who get the newsletter by post. New Year starts at the reunion.  Send in your dues now or e-mail me for a status report on your account.

Many who get the newsletter by e-mail offer dues and we are grateful. We send e-mail newsletter to all who wish to see it, regardless.

We are + 1900 members. There are a lot of people we have still not found.

We have listed groups by detachments. Send me your request and I'll share your detachment list with you so you can contact the guys you want to meet at reunion. Tell us who you remember and let us help you find him/them. We have too many new contacts since the 2007 reunion to list them all. We have many incomplete detachment rosters. Send for yours and help me complete the lists. I call a lot of guys who have no interest, but if their old buddies call them, that may be a different matter. Our membership continues to grow. We have found people through the Navy Memorial Foundation and Military.Com.

People who send me old newsletters from the squadron and old orders, social notes, watch bills, cruise book lists and rapid recall bills have been very helpful.

Every once in a while I find a new member referred from a member who recalls where his old buddy is now.

Surprisingly few men that I have heard of have taken the roster of their cruise and made calls to old friends. That is another way to improve the list. Many of those rosters have names with incomplete addresses. Studying them may yield clues to where they may be now—wives’ names, birthdates or birth years, hometowns etc may be very helpful in finding men with more common names.  Let’s have some stories of contacts made among old shipmates.

2009 Reunion will be in Dayton, OH

Time:  Thursday afternoon Sept. 17 through Sunday morning Sept. 20.

 Place:  Holiday Inn Dayton North, 2301 Wagner Ford Road, Dayton, Ohio, 45414,

            Phone: 937-278-4871, Room Rate $85 plus tax

 Contact:  Dick Bray, 585-576-0595, leighbray@hotmail.com

The Cuban Missile Crisis

The World's Biggest, Most Dangerous Covert Action                        Charleston Mercury News  

Writers, historians, politicians and scholars rarely go back to set the record straight even after learning the truth about what really happened in historically significant world crises. Such was the case with the Cuban Missile Crisis [referred to as the ‘Caribbean Operation’ by the Soviets]. We continue to hear the same version of the event reported at the time, which was that the Soviets were caught with their pants down trying to sneak nuclear offensive missiles into Cuba, and have them armed and ready to launch toward Charleston, Norfolk, Washington and New York before the U.S. woke up to the fact. The story then, and now,  was that a U-2 spy plane flying over Cuba discovered the missile sites under construction, that President Kennedy ordered a naval blockade that stopped the Soviet ships from unloading more missiles, and that Kennedy and Khrushchev stood toe-to-toe, eyeball-to-eyeball, and it was Khrushchev that blinked, and backed down, and removed their missiles.

What came to light later, but not well publicized, was that  Khrushchev extracted from Kennedy an agreement to also pull U.S. offensive missiles from Turkey and Italy . As part of this deal, Kennedy had insisted the Soviets keep this part of the deal quiet for at least 6 months. Khrushchev also insisted, and got from JFK, an agreement to keep hands off Castro and Cuba in the future. Kennedy's acquiescence thus has led to the longest Communist dictatorship in history.

What we learned forty years later, after the Cold War, when the American and Russian participants in the Crisis sat down together to share what really occurred, made the hair on the back of our necks stand up. We had no idea, until then, how close we had come to a nuclear holocaust. What we called the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Soviets called “Anadyr,” one of their many covert actions [Personnel were issued arctic equipment and trained for cold weather operations to deceive Western intelligence.  Stalin also used the codeword in the ‘50’s to stage a million man army to invade the Anadyr River region in northern Russian Far East.] The clandestine Cuban deployment  might better be referred to as the world's largest, and most dangerous, covert action since it went well beyond anything the U.S. ever considered, including the CIA's Bay of Pigs operation.  Khrushchev deceptively deployed to Cuba 40,000 troops, 3 R-12 medium range missile regiments, 2 R-14 medium range missile regiments, 4 mechanized infantry regiments, 42 R-12 missiles (45 nuclear warheads) and 24 launch pads aboard merchant ships, as well as 42 IL-28 medium range bombers, a regiment of 40 MIG-21 fighters, and 2 AA Defense Divisions.]

Just why Khrushchev decided on Anadyr remains a matter of  conjecture, but we do know that the Soviets had long placed spies throughout the U.S. Government, who had stolen every secret we had. Roosevelt had ceded Soviet dominance over all Eastern Europe and most everything was going their way. Further, Khrushchev had sized up Kennedy, in an earlier meeting in Vienna, as young, inexperienced and an eager-to-please pushover. But Khrushchev was also smarting from the CIA's U-2 having roamed freely over Russia for four years, unlocking Soviet secrets and weaknesses, and then having to back down in the Berlin face-off in 1960 because the U.S. had clear military superiority over the Soviets. He saw the U.S. as the only road block to Russia 's world domination plan. Anadyr would be a quick and easy gambit to turn the tables and checkmate us. It was a magnificent gamble, well-worth the risks, and Russians were the better chess players.

Anadyr called for emplacing Surface-to-Air defensive missiles  around the planned strategic missile sites, eighty strategic missiles with three megaton nuclear warheads, seven ballistic nuclear missile submarines, short range missiles with 100 kiloton warheads, cruise missiles with nuclear capabilities, a fleet of IL-28 bombers with 12 kiloton bombs, two cruisers, two missile destroyers, two squadrons of mine warfare ships, four long-range diesel attack submarines equipped with nuclear torpedoes, and 40,000 Soviet soldiers disguised as Cubans. The cover for the shipments was to be "massive aid to Cuba."  Had Anadyr been completed, the island would surely have glowed in the dark and be clearly visible from Key West.

The early shipments from the Soviet Union went unnoticed.   Nonetheless, there were early clues that the Soviets were up to something. A U.S. Navy ship had spotted a Soviet freighter in the Mediterranean and signaled, "What is your ship, your cargo and where headed?" "We are taking agriculture machinery to Havana."  The Americans could clearly see the IL-28 bombers on deck.  The CIA also had reports from their agents in Cuba regarding large objects, 20 meters in length, that required removal of street lamps to tow around tight street corners.

Further, Philippe Thyraud de Vosjoli, a French intelligence officer, told the Director of CIA, John McCone, that he had visited Cuba and learned that the Soviet buildup there included strategic nuclear missiles. There was no hard evidence, however, as from aerial photograph, since Kennedy had forbidden U-2 overflights of the island for fear of a political flap.  The National Security Agency intercepted Soviet and Cuban communications and caught them discussing highly secret cargo unloading, under heavy guard at Mariel, and the extraordinary precautions to keep it secret.

Only two people thought the Soviets were sneaking strategic missiles into Cuba; Colonel John Wright in the Defense Intelligence Agency, and John McCone, the Director of CIA.  Even so, the CIA's Board of National Estimates reviewed the "circumstantial" evidence and concluded that the Soviets would not dare place offensive missiles in Cuba, because "it was not logical."  Later on, when the U-2 confirmed the missiles, the Board released another report that "If the missiles are in Cuba, the Soviets wouldn't dare use them." So much for intelligence estimates not based on collected intelligence.

Under pressure from McCone, Kennedy finally relented and permitted the Air Force U-2 overflights that confirmed the missiles, and that launch site construction was well along.  The Air Force had insisted that its U-2s fly the Cuban missions, rather than the CIA.  Unfortunately, the Air Force U-2s were not equipped with electronic countermeasures (ECM) to protect them from the Soviet anti-aircraft missiles.  One of the Air Force U-2s was shot down over Cuba, and its pilot, South Carolinian Major Rudy Anderson, would be the only fatality during the crisis. The Air Force then borrowed the CIA's U-2s, which were outfitted with ECM.  The White House, and Congress, needed CIA experts to interpret the U-2 photography for them.

This problem was solved by switching to low-flying photo-reconnaissance aircraft, skimming over the missile sites at treetop level.  We could now count the rivets on the missiles, and clearly see the Russian technicians' vulgar hand gestures, something a Congressman could understand.  But the Navy and Air Force low-level planes didn't have ECM protection either, so a couple of young CIA engineers were dispatched to Key West to install CIA ECM in these planes.  What went on in Key West and off the Cuban coast will be the subject of a future Charleston Mercury article.

At the peak of the crisis, McCone, a widower recently remarried, was on his honeymoon on the French Riviera, but the vast amount of messages coming from him, called his "honeymoon cables," caused the White House to question if he knew what he was supposed to be doing on his honeymoon. These cables are now declassified and make a great read.

Before the U.S. showed its hand, the Russians were questioned about the Cuban arms buildup, and the Russians quickly put up a smoke screen of lies and deception. Khrushchev sent ambassador Dobrynin to tell Bobby Kennedy and Presidential counsel Ted Sorenson that they would create no problems for the U.S. during our 1962 Congressional elections. The White House was told that "no missile capable of reaching the U.S. would be placed in Cuba."

Tass, speaking for the Soviet government, stated that Soviet missiles were so powerful "there was no need to place them outside the  Soviet Union." Khrushchev told the American ambassador in Moscow the build-up was purely defensive. Soviet foreign minister Gromyko lied to Kennedy, saying the build-up was "by no means offensive."

On October 22nd, Kennedy finally appeared on television and announced the U-2 findings to an anxious public, called for the missiles removal, and placed a naval quarantine around Cuba to block further Soviet shipments and once again called Khrushchev's bluff as he had in Berlin. But Khrushchev knew, as with Berlin, the U.S. had him outgunned, so he had no choice but to move quickly to find a solution.

Glued to our televisions, we watched UN Ambassador Adlai Stevenson wave the U-2 photographs of the missiles in the face of the Soviets as the U.S. military went to DEFCON 2, the highest alert status short of all out nuclear war. The next day, the fever broke. The Soviet ships en route stopped, were either dead in the water or turning back.

But the CIA had an ace up its sleeve. It had earlier obtained the  instruction manuals for the Russian missiles from one of their spies, Soviet Colonel Oleg Penkovsky.  The manuals also included the procedures for launch site construction, which were being followed to the letter in Cuba.  By comparing photographs of the Cuban site construction with the instruction manuals, we knew the sites would be completed and ready to launch missiles in about thirteen days which became Washington 's drop-dead date to end the crisis, one way or another. On the same day that Kennedy announced his naval quarantine, Penkovsky was arrested, exposed, confessed to spying, and later executed.  So the Soviets knew what we knew.

At the end of the Cold War, when the Americans and Russians sat down together in a series of meetings, the first of which was in Havana, to discuss the Crisis, the Americans were jarred and shocked.  The Russians told how their local commanders in Cuba had been given orders that permitted them to use their nuclear weapons if they were to come under attack by the Americans.  The reason was that Moscow did not have reliable communications with their forces so far from home, so it was left to the local commanders, on their own, to launch these nuclear warhead missiles into the U.S.A., an unprecedented action.

In a later meeting, the Russians described how the nuclear "close encounters" had occurred at sea, both on the surface and below. The Soviet navy's budding nuclear submarine force was unreliable and fraught with one major disaster after another.  The only reliable submarines they could send to Cuba to protect their shipments were long-range diesel attack submarines based in the Arctic, near Murmansk, and under the command of Admiral Leonid Rybalko.

Four of these were ordered to sail undetected to the Azores where they would then open sealed orders which sent them on to Mariel, Cuba. In addition to their regular torpedoes, each sub would carry one nuclear tipped, 15 kiloton torpedo, which would wipe out everything within a 15 mile radius.  None of these vessels had ever seen or test-fired such a weapon. Each sub had a nuclear specialist on board who slept by his torpedo, plus the usual KGB political officer, the infamous and dreaded Zampolit, to keep an eye on, and report on, everyone else.

Their orders read, "Your rules of engagement are clear. You will use these weapons if American forces attack you submerged or force your units to surface and then attack. Or upon receipt of orders from Moscow."  Incredibly, the submarine captains, like the Soviet commanders in Cuba, had been given full authority to start a nuclear war with the United States.

The submarine captains had been told nothing about Anadyr.  But as they approached Cuba,  they received a message from Moscow saying, "Abort transit to Mariel and assume combat patrol at [coordinates that corresponded to the U.S. naval blockade]."  They were all shocked since, as submariners are prone to do, they raised their antennas to listen to American broadcasts and learned about the Cuban Missile Crisis. They also found themselves in a hornet's nest of U.S. Navy anti-submarine activity enforcing the blockade [see following translation].

At the time of the blockade, the U.S. Navy flashed a Notice to Mariners (NOTAM) signal, worldwide, that read: "U.S. forces in contact with unidentified submarines will signal the submarine to surface in order to be identified, by dropping 4 to 5 harmless explosive sound signals, accompanied by the international code signal IDKCA, meaning to rise to the surface on an easterly course."

The hide and seek games began between the Navy and the four Russian submarines. Moscow had kept their submarines in the dark about the American NOTAM, but Admiral Rybalko, thinking it unconscionable not to let his submariners know about it, ignored Moscow, and transmitted the NOTAM to his submarines himself.  When the submarines were finally forced to the surface, they were on an easterly course, which meant they knew of the NOTAM and would come to no harm from the Americans.

When the USS Cony forced Captain Savitsky's submarine to surface, they signaled, "What ship are you, and do you need assistance?" Savitsky signaled back that they would like some American cigarettes and bread. When the destroyer moved alongside the submarine, the Cony's bosun fired a shot ine across the conning tower to start the transfer.  The submariners ducked, thinking they were about to be attacked.  They apparently had never seen a shot line gun.

Captain Edward Kelley's destroyer, USS Blandy, forced Captain Shumkov's submarine to the surface, both on an easterly course. Then something went terribly wrong. The Blandy's gunnery officer swung his 5 inch gun turret around and trained it on the submarine.  Shumkov, assuming he was about to fired on, turned his submarine toward the Blandy and order his nuclear torpedo readied for firing.  His nuclear officer fainted dead away, knowing that if the torpedo was fired, the destroyer, submarine and their crews would be instantly annihilated.  Kelley, at the last instant, saw the mistake and ordered the gun turret to point away from the submarine.  Shumkov then swung his submarine back to an easterly heading, and the customs between sailors at sea resumed.  Kelley and none of the other Americans knew of the nuclear torpedoes, and how close they, and the world, had come to disaster.

As the submarines were forced to surface, all parties relaxed and even became jovial, exchanging greetings and salutes, along with the cigarettes and other gifts. One destroyer had a rag-tag jazz band that performed on deck for their Russian guests. The Russians never forgot that jazz band, especially the trombone player, obviously the ship's cook, with his white pants and T-shirt, wearing his tall chef's cap.  Some mused that these sailors must have been from Charleston, the city where everyone had music in his bones.  Yes, you will have guessed it, the Americans requested vodka from the Russian submariners who were dismayed to learn the American Navy didn't allow liquor on their ships.

The Russians limped back to their Arctic base, and were held virtual prisoners on their submarines, for fear their stories would embarrass the Kremlin.  Admiral Kybalko disappeared, never to be heard from, for his having transmitted the Navy's NOTAM to his submarines that saved their lives.

In the 1970s, the CIA learned that Soviet submarines were indeed equipped with nuclear torpedoes, and quickly informed the Navy.  Then three decades later, in our face-to-face meetings, we would learn that the Russian commander in Cuba, and the Submarine Captains, had the authority to launch a nuclear attack on their own. 

The USSR would never again allow itself to be militarily inferior to the Americans, and the Cold War would continue, under the rules of MAD (mutually assured destruction) UNTIL President Reagan decided to end the half-century stand-off by reasserting American military superiority, and adding "Star Wars" (the airborne laser weapons system), something Russians could not match.  This [and other reasons] caused the Soviet Union to finally implode.

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Cuban Missile Crisis Havana Conference

 Recollections of Vadim Orlov (USSR Foxtrot Submarine B-59)                 

“We will sink them all, but we will not disgrace our Navy.”

Source: Alexander Mozzovoi, The Cuban Samba of the Quartet of Foxtrots: Soviet Submarines in the Caribbean Crisis of 1962, Military Parade, Moscow, 2002. Translated by Svetlana Savranskyaya, National Security Archives

“The crew if B-59 (diesel powered Foxtrot attack submarine), under the command of Second Captain Valentin Savitsky, also had to drink the cup of hardships to the bottom [of the glass].  Many things happened on that trip: the diesel coolers got blocked with salt, rubber sealing got torn, and the electronic compressor broke.  When in the vicinity of Cuba, in the evening, the boat came to the surface to charge the accumulators [batteries], and American anti-submarine aircraft appeared in the sky.  The [crew] had to submerge urgently, but the charge in the batteries was practically zero.

Let us give the floor to the witness of the events – Second Captain Retired  V.P. Orlov, who was Commander of Special Assignment Group [OSNAZ] on submarine B-59.  He is a third generation naval and intelligence officer whose father, navy officer Pavel Andreevich Orlov, was transferred to the Main Intelligence Department (GRU) of the General Staff during the Great Patriotic War [WW-II].  In 1945, Orlov’s family was sent to the United States.  Thus, the 8 year-old Vadim, with his father, mother and younger brother, lived in the U.S.  Being young and residing in America, it was easy for him to learn the foreign language.  Very soon, Vadim had a sufficiently good command of English.

“…Even before the Cuban mission of the 69^th Brigade, submarines conducted intelligence gathering on autonomous missions” says Orlov, … “However, it was conducted without special [monitoring] equipment augmentation under normal configuration.  As a rule, the boats did not have special equipment, and the available radio technicians were engaged in the interception of the radio signals of the potential enemy.  For the first time in Soviet naval operations, special OSNAZ [communications reconnaissance] groups were assigned to the boats deployed to Cuba, and they received special equipment.  We were all young specialists who had just completed the courses of retraining for signals intelligence several months prior.  When selected for OSNAZ, it appears that they took into account my good knowledge of English, because it is not enough to intercept communications, one has to understand it. 

I cannot say that we received a good welcome in the 69^th Brigade.  Preparing for the length of the planned trip, the boats had to take additional food reserves, and those were stored in compartments.  The officers of the Brigade Headquarters were also on the boats.  In other words, even without us, the submarines suffered from lack of room and excessive number of crew.  And there we were, with all of our equipment and nine extra people.  These extra specialists were brought to establish signals intelligence ground posts in Cuba.  In short, when I arrived onboard B-59, Second Captain [U.S. equivalent: Commander (0-5)] Valentin Grigorievich Savitsky, upon reading orders stating specifically that the OSNAZ group was supposed to ensure security of the submarine for the duration of the mission, he muttered angrily – “It’s interesting … how are you going to ensure security?”  His reaction is understandable.  An experienced submariner, he saw an inexperienced youth before him, a 25 year-old ‘senior’ [Captain] Lieutenant [U.S. equivalent: Lieutenant (0-3)], who had never been on a submarine on an autonomous mission before.  It was only later when we started to produce reliable reports about the actions of the NATO anti-submarine forces, that the attitude toward us began to change – from rejection – sometimes even sharply negative - to respect.

The anti-submarine forces of the opponent, especially aviation, were ready for an encounter with us from the very beginning of our deployment to the Cuban shores. 

And even though I and other OSNAZ group commanders knew the route and tasks of our mission, without which it would have been impossible to plan and conduct our work, we could not have expected this kind of response from European NATO forces and the U.S.  First, Norwegian seaplanes searched for us, then at the U.K. – Iceland Gap – the British ‘Shackleton’s.’  Then it was the turn of the American ‘Neptunes’ [P-2V].  But judging by events in our transit, they had not discovered us until arrival in the Sargasso Sea [central North Atlantic].  There they got us.  A forward searching aircraft carrier group headed by the carrier ‘Randolph,’ confronted submarine B-59.  

According to our hydro-acoustic [sonar] specialists, 14 surface ships were following our submarine.  Together with the navigator, we did parallel plotting on the chart – he did the route of B-59, as he was assigned, and I recalled my first naval specialization – and plotted the movements of the American ships.  For some time we were able to avoid them quite successfully.  However, the Americans were not inexperienced either.  Following all the standard tactics of naval warfare, they surrounded us and started to tighten the circle, practicing attacks and dropping depth charges that exploded right next to the hull.  It felt like you were sitting in a metal barrel while being blasted with a sledgehammer.  The situation was quite unusual, if not shocking, for the crew. 

The batteries on B-59 were discharged to the state of water; only emergency light was functioning.  The temperature in the compartments was 45 – 50 C [81 – 90 F], up to 60 C          [108 F] in the engine compartment.  It was unbearably stuffy.  The co2 [carbon dioxide] in the air reached critical, practically deadly levels.  One duty officer fainted and collapsed.  Another followed, than a third.  They were falling like dominoes.  But we were still holding on, trying to escape.  We suffered like this for about four hours.  The Americans hit us with something stronger than depth charges, apparently an actual depth bomb.  We thought – that’s it – the end.  After the attack, the totally exhausted Captain Savitsky, who, in addition to being under attack, was not able to contact the General Staff, became furious.  He summoned the officer assigned to the nuclear torpedo and ordered him to arm it and prepare for firing.  “Maybe the war has already started up there, while we are doing summersaults here – screamed Valentin Gregorievich, trying to justify his order.  ‘WE’RE GOING TO BLAST THEM NOW!  WE WILL DIE, BUT WE WILL SINK THEM ALL – WE WILL NOT DISGRACE OUR NAVY!’  But we did not fire the nuclear torpedo.  Savitsky was able to rein in his wrath.  After consulting with Second Captain [Commander] Vasili Alexandrovich Arkhipov [Political Officer – deceased] and Deputy Political Officer Ivan Semenovich Maslennikov, he made the decision to come to the surface.  We gave an echo locator signal, which in international navigation rules means the “submarine is coming to the surface.”  Our pursuers slowed down.  

Memoir from Foster Hurley

Just being at sea for thirty days was reason enough for the crew to need a break--never mind the fatigue and emotional drain of continuous combat flight ops--so on 12 SEP 66 we left Yankee Station for Yokosuka [yo-kus-ka], Japan. I got more liberty this time--as we could dock--and I was ready to proudly unleash my fully-grown moustache on the lovely ladies of this large port city. To my dismay, most of them called me "binjo brush"--toilet brush--but that didn't seem to interfere with international relations. Every bar near the dock seemed to be named after a state--not so dumb when you think about it, everyone gets their fair share of sailors--so I naturally settled on The Texas, as they all seemed to be about the same. I acquired the services there of an attractive young lady who would be my companion off and on--pardon the expression--for the next ten days...when I wasn't occupied with other things. Like a hotsi bath--a Japanese sauna, scrub and massage. Now, I'd been hearing about little else from the old salts for the entire cruise.

"Oh man, wait till we get to Japan! You've gotta have a hotsi bath!"

Of course, there are hotsi baths, and then there are hotsi baths--that is to say, they range from the G rated to the NC-17. I imagine the old timers were referring to the more adult version, but my first time out I opted for the G. So a couple of buddies and I chose a busy, well-lit establishment from among many in the area that were catering to couples and families. As we entered the large, open space we were greeted by a group of twenty or so attractive young ladies, all attired in white shorts and tops--sort of a Japanese gym class. They all stood and bowed and smiled--chattering and giggling amongst themselves --waiting for us to select one of them. I eenie-meenied in my head and gestured to one who immediately directed me to follow her. A wide wooden walkway wrapped around the rectangular central area, and facing onto it, a series of steps and sliding shoji screened panels defined individual working/living spaces for the attendants. When we stepped into her space, the young lady slid the screen shut, directed me to undress and averted her eyes. She held up a kimono that I slipped into and handed me a small bag that I was to place my valuables in. As I followed her down the walkway toward the baths--carrying my silly little bag--the efficient, antiseptic precision with which this whole procedure was all taking place helped alleviate the singular, over riding fear I'd been harboring since walking through the front door--that of getting an erection. I'd never had a professional massage and didn't know how I'd respond to one from an attractive Asian girl--with the NC-17 version it wouldn't have mattered, but there were children here for chrissakes.  So as I ambled towards the bath I tried to keep my thoughts away from the carnal, just in case.

Aside

A quick word here, dear reader, regarding rank--another lesson in Navy 101.

The ranks of officers and enlisted in the navy are different from those of all other branches of the military. Instead of privates, corporals and sergeants, etc., the navy has seamen, petty officer third class and second class. Second lieutenant, first lieutenant and captain become ensign, lieutenant junior grade and lieutenant. The navy's captain is the army's bird colonel. So as a Navy man, one is constantly explaining to people who don't know just what your rank means. It's a way of life. And you'll soon see why I've interrupted my story to make this point.

Ahead

The young lady led me into a large white room, completely tiled--wall-to-wall, floor to ceiling. The ceiling was twelve feet high, but the walls between this area and the similar adjoining ones only went up eleven. This made it easy to hear the conversations going on both sides, and the young ladies took advantage of it to chat back and forth. There was an assembly line of naked-man activity going on here--one in a steam cabinet, one in a very large tub--almost a pool--and three sitting on stools being furiously lathered and scrubbed by three young ladies with large sponges.

The two ladies assigned to the two men in the cabinet and tub stood to the side, waiting their turn. As one of the scrubees finished, the man from the tub moved to a stool, the cabinet guy went to the pool, and I went into the cabinet. Just like clockwork. And after two or three minutes each in the cabinet and the pool, I finally took my position on a stool. Now I'm really trying to keep my thoughts pure--enjoying the experience while not dwelling on it. I mean, a beautiful young Japanese woman was giving me a bath, folks.

This was dangerous territory. She scrubbed my back, I thought about flight operations. She washed under my arms, I went through the alphabet. She did my legs, I did algebra. Then she handed me the sponge and said--with a heavy accent admittedly, but quite clearly nonetheless--"Wash your privates."

Well, folks, in that moment of out of body, in the mind distance I was working so hard to maintain, my distracted brain thought it heard her say, "Where's your privates?" I know, I know...there's no logic to it, but that's what I heard. So from that same, safely removed space I answered in a loud voice, for all to hear, "Oh, I'm in the navy. We don't have privates."

[Pause for everyone in room to do a slow double take.] After incredulous looks between the young ladies, they began shrieking in laughter, recounting my comment loudly and excitedly over the wall gap. I then sat in stunned embarrassment as I realized what I had done. As I heard the round robin of laughter swelling from room to room to room and out into the streets and down to the ships and out to all the ports in all the seven seas. In one fell swoop I had single handedly destroyed a proud, honored reputation carefully cultivated over centuries of seafaring exploits. Oh well. I followed my beaming lady back to her space to be talcum powdered and walked

on-- literally--during my massage, and then dressed when she left the room.

When I walked out into the open space there was much pointing, giggling behind hands, bowing and smiling--but I got the sense that I had become some sort of instant legend, that I would live on in hotsi lore as long as there were sailors and Japanese girls to bathe them. My suspicions were confirmed on a return visit to the baths when all the girls were clearly jockeying for my attention--hoping to be picked by the handsome, binjo-brushed officer who had no privates. Legends have been built on less.