Lingerie Beneath the Sea


by Bob 'Dex' Armstrong

One thing about being an ex-smokeboat line handler and trash dumper... it's easy to admit to being wrong because less than five people in the known world expect you to be right... Once in a hundred. E-3s should not have opinions.

In my previous diatribe about women in the boats... Make that, the possibility of co-ed crews... In that piece I referred to the 'minaturized cajones' carried by the present leadership of the naval establishment.

I was 180 degrees out on two gentlemen... The CNO, Admiral Jay Johnson, and the Director of Naval Nuclear Propulsion, Admiral Frank Bowman. I owe these two gentlemen a world-class apology. They must feel like a pair of worn out salmon swimming upstream against the feminist torrrent. God bless 'em both...

This isn't the first crow I've had to eat... And it sure as hell won't be the last... But, as crow-eating goes, this may have been the best tasting. There are too many 'go along to get along' folks in leadership positions today... So when you come across a flag officer with an oak heart and a steel spine, you have a national treasure... Find two, and there is a good possibility you can survive the 'go-alongs'.

Admirals Johnson and Bowman...

On behalf of a lot of us old worn-out boat sailors... Much obliged... Thanks from those of us who dealt specifically in petroleum-powered submersibles... Enhanced pride gives crow a great flavor. These two admirals make it great to be a bluejacket.

A lot of good sailors jumped down my smokestack with both feet on behalf of these two fine officers. One thing about diesel boat sailors, when you act like a stupid sonuvabitch, there's never a shortage of smiling faces to tell you how full of it, you are.

Dex Armstrong.