A Thank You Note to Ron's BBS

by Bob 'Dex' Armstrong
 
 

Looter's Terrace… Star Terrace… Little Italy… The Big "O"… The Victory… Bells… Lovey's Krazy Kat… The Jolly Roger and the George Washington Bar (Dixie & Tiger), just outside the main gate of Norfolk Naval Shipyard, Portsmouth.

The Gospel Tabernacle bus that picked up non rated kids who had acquired a snoot full and were 'carrying a package'… They hauled you off to some gahdam circus tent God knows where, tossed hot coffee into you, made you sing, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus", gave you a sermon on the evils of the dissipated life, then carted you off to DES SUB piers.

You always knew that you had your worthless, drunken soul rehabilitated when you woke up the next day, still in your blues and shoes, your mouth tasting like the bottom of a bird cage, and you find a card in your jumper pocket that reads, "SATAN OFTEN DECIEVES BUT JESUS SAVES."

It was great to be young and diesel qualified.

I would like to thank the folks who have been so kind with the reactions and comments on Ron Martini's Submarine BBS. There aren't a whole helluva lot of us left. It's like speaking the language spoken in the Fiji Islands… Who in the hell do you talk to? There are probably more people that remember 78 records, Ipana toothpaste and Old Gold cigarettes, then remember us. Nowadays, America has an attention span of ten minutes. What we did in the old gravel gut diesel boat service has long been forgotten.

We are like the rascals in Jurassic Park… Big, old worn out sonuvabitches, long ago forgotten. They tore down our bars... All the bar maids we loved are now wearing Depends and support stockings, and the raghats riding deep submergence iron today are whiz kids who talk quantum physics and super attenuated focal direction, instead of hot cars and plotting to get in some honey's pants.

Different world… Different time… Different Navy.


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