My First Ship Turns 20 Today. Happy Birthday USS Oscar Austin!

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USS Oscar Austin (DDG-79) after we found out we just won our first Battle “E.”  (Photo by Gia Mate).

Today is an auspicious day.  Today is a birthday.  Today is a very important birthday of an individual who has had a profound influence on my life and many others.  Few people in the world, or even the Navy, will realize it, but for those of us who know her, know that there is something to celebrate.  Today is the 20th birthday of the USS Oscar Austin (DDG-79).  What is so special about the Oscar Austin?  Who was Oscar P. Austin?  These are some great questions (I’m glad you asked) and I am going to answer them today.

USS Oscar Austin is the 29th U.S. Navy Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer and the first Flight IIA (which has become the predominant subclass) of the class.  She was named in honor of Private First Class Oscar P. Austin USMC of Nacogdoches, TX, who received the Medal of Honor posthumously for heroic action in Vietnam.

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PFC Oscar Palmer Austin, USMC (Source:  Wikimedia Commons)

Oscar P. Austin was an absolutely amazing warrior.  Although in the Corps for only 10 months, this guy jumped between a fellow Marine and a grenade on the field of battle.  This was enough earn the Medal of Honor, but Oscar Austin wasn’t finished.  Badly injured from the blast he began treating his fellow Marine.  When the enemy tried to shoot them, PFC Austin shielded him again with his body and was mortally wounded.  What happened next isn’t exactly clear, what with fog of war, but I heard that, even mortally wounded, Oscar Austin killed the enemy soldier before succumbing to his wounds.

What a bad ass!  Screw Chuck Norris jokes, kids should be talking about Oscar Austin:  “Did you hear that Oscar Austin had to sleep with the lights on because the dark was afraid of him?”  His name was fitting for a warship.  Here’s a bit of my story of the USS Oscar Austin (DDG-79).  My first ship, my favorite ship, and the best ship in the fleet (although I might be a little biased).

When I reported to the Oscar Austin in November of 1999 she wasn’t even a warship yet.  We were the crew of the pre-commissioning  unit.  Precom duty is interesting.  It’s like the opposite of boot camp.  It starts off really easy and gradually becomes very hard.  You start off living in barracks, working short hours and going to Navy schools.  By the time the ship commissions your working half-days (that’s 12 hours in the Navy) with a different inspector crawling up your butt every day.  But it doesn’t matter because it’s really impressive to watch a fully operational warship come to life.  We moved aboard the ship on May 16, 2000 in Bath, Maine and prepared to sail to our new homeport in Norfolk, VA.

On a hot summer evening in Norfolk on August 19, 2000, USS Oscar Austin was officially commissioned as a warship in the United States Navy.  A long list of distinguished guests (including my parents and grandparents) were in attendance.  Long and boring speeches were given, or maybe they just seemed that way to me as I stood at parade rest sweating for hours.  Our ship’s sponsor gave the command, “Man our ship and bring her to life!”  The crew ran aboard the ship and manned the rails.  Radars spun, guns elevated, the ship’s whistle bellowed into the otherwise quiet night.

Just before we manned the ship, the spirit of PFC Oscar P. Austin was rung aboard.  Eight tones of bell rang out with the Officer of the Deck announcing, “Medal of Honor recipient, arriving.”  It was a moving and touching part of the ceremony.  However, Sailors’ dark humor being what it is, we blamed everything that went wrong on the ship being haunted (we’re a sick bunch).

Not long after, Oscar Austin, or OA as we came to call her (we never called her “Austin” as there was an LPD with that name), was underway for her shakedown cruise,  visiting the Caribbean for the first of many times.

I spent 5 years with the OA.  It was some of the worst and some of the best years of my life.  I met some of the most incredible people and some of the oddest people, and every kind of person in between.  I sailed the Caribbean, the Baltic Sea, the Mediterranean Sea, the Persian Gulf visited numerous ports.  Drank a lot of alcohol and spent far too much time with my head over the side of a bridge (if you catch my drift).

Your first ship is a unique experience.  You’re still a new Sailor and you still miss being a civilian.  There is no frame of reference to cloud your experience.  No past duties to compare.  Everything is new, confusing, amazing, and overwhelming.

A ship is like a family.  A very dysfunctional family, but a family.  That’s the Oscar Austin.  There is not a person that served with me during those 5 years, that I wouldn’t die for.  Although there are a few for whom I would do it grudgingly.

What could I tell you about my time on the OA?  How about the Chief who went crazy in the middle of the night in Berthing 1 looking for stowaways (while we were still inport)?

There was the time I went to XOI for getting punched in the face by a much larger and much drunker Sailor and was stuck on “liberty risk” for half the cruise.  This happened on the same night that two SMs tried to climb the mast after drinking a bottle of whiskey (yet I was the one to go to XOI… not that I’m bitter).

I remember our ten day port visit in Brest, France (where I learned to speak with an obnoxious French accent) where the entire crew balanced duty days and alcohol poisoning.  After that we spent 4 days in Rotterdam / Amsterdam which was immediately followed by an all hands drug test (and we all passed).

I was eating lunch on the mess deck February 18, 2001 watching the Daytona 500 when Dale Earnhardt hit the wall on the last lap, although I didn’t realize he had died until the newspaper arrived the next morning while sanding the pier sentry watch.  Later that year greater tragedy hit as  I was sweeping the bridge and heard that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center on September 11.  That event defined the rest of my tour and really the rest of my Naval career.

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T-Shirt from the maiden deployment.

My first deployment took me to war for the first time.  The first half of the cruise focused on the build-up to the invasion of Iraq, escorting war supply ships through the Strait of Gibraltar and Bab-el-Mandeb (referred to as the “BAM” for obvious reasons).  The rest of the cruise saw us supporting Shock and Awe and the invasion.  We launched at least 30 Tomahawk missiles into Iraq (and thanks to CNN, watched some of them land).

We captured an Iraqi tug boat off the coast of Bahrain after an all-night chase through shoal water on uncorrected charts (talk about pucker factor).  Just when our VBSS boarding team was going to get their chance for glory, the USS Cowpens showed up with their embarked Coast Guard law enforcement detachment to take the Iraqi sailors prisoner.  The OA was left to stand guard duty on a deserted, anchored old tug while the Cowpens and LE Det took the prisoners back to Bahrain for victory partying (I assume, I have no idea what they actually did).

I served with hundreds of American Sailors on that tour.  They fit in every category that you can possibly think of.  Every color, religion, or creed.  Every intelligence level, hobby, interest, obsession, and vice imaginable.  But they were all family.  A dysfunctional family, maybe, but family none the less.

Since my time on the OA we have lost some of these family members.  One to enemy action, one to a senseless murder, and others to accidents or illnesses.  Every time I hear about losing another OA shipmate, whether or not we knew each other well or whether or not we could even stand each other, it breaks my heart.

My tour on the Oscar Austin ended in October 2004.  I had spent just under five years with her and I was one the last five plank-owners still aboard.  Plank-owners are entitled to bells on their final departure.  Mine came shortly after the ship moored from a brief underway.  It is customary for the departing Sailor’s division and friends to see them off on the Quarterdeck.  In addition, I was honored that every division officer aboard showed up.  As a Quartermaster, who stood watch on the bridge with these officers, it is was one of the highest honors I could have received.

I have lost touch with most of shipmates from that tour.  Sometimes I’ll come across one of them online.  Even rarer I’ll come across someone in real life.  Whenever that happens, I regress to my younger self and start reliving my life on the old girl.

In 2018  there was a serious fire on the ship, and she is still in the shipyard getting repaired from that accident.  She’s not quite as pretty anymore.  She’s got some rust and whole lot more layers of paint these days.  But a 20 year old ship isn’t supposed to look as pretty as new ship.  A destroyer is a work horse.  She ages like a jeep, the older and more banged up she gets, the more impressive she looks.

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It’s been 16 years since I’ve left that ship.  I have had an great Naval career.  I’ve been on four more deployments and been to numerous countries.  I have been accepted in the Chiefs’ Mess.  I even grew up a bit (although there is some debate on how much).  But looking back, it’s hard to think of anything more impressive than that ship.  She was my first ship, and I was her first QMSN.  We started our Navy lives together.  Now I’m retired and she’s still standing the watch.  Congratulations on a proud and successful career.  Happy 20th birthday USS Oscar Austin (DDG-79)!  Next year you will be old enough to drink, and the first round is on me.

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Retirement Speech: My shipmates’ last opportunity to listen to me ramble

THANK YOU NOTE: I would like to thank all my readers who have shared links to my blog. I would especially like to thank the blog: Tales of an Asia Sailor for reposting my last article. If you haven’t been there, go check it out. It’s a great site with some great stories. Additionally if you enjoy anything you read on my site please share it… even if you don’t like it you can still share it, I have no problem with that.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Several months ago I retired from active duty. The speech I gave at the ceremony was well received and there have been numerous requests for me to post a copy. I was initially hesitant to do so. There’s a part of me that thinks a speech is one of those “one and done” kind of things. However after reflecting on it a bit I realized that if I posted it, I wouldn’t have to write something new this week, and thus I was convinced. Here you go, “A Sailor’s Last Speech”:

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In my experience, it’s only a real Naval Ceremony if there’s at least one significant screw up. So don’t worry about making mistakes. It would be a shame to ruin a tradition.

According to Jerry Seinfeld, public speaking is the number one fear of the average person, death is the second. This means that if you are at a funeral you would rather be in the coffin than giving the eulogy. (This is the first of many lines I will steal or plagiarize during this speech).

This is true for me. I am not a fan of public speaking. As a result you will most likely reap the benefits of a short speech.

A disclaimer is due here. I am, as I am often reminded, the oldest member of this crew. As such I have a very dated sense of humor filled with 80’s and 90’s references. Some of my millennial shipmates might not get all my jokes. So if you hear something that sounds like it might be a joke, just go ahead and laugh. It will make me feel better, and make those of us Gen Xers feel slightly less old.

Well let’s start this off with the obligatory long list of “Thank Yous” during which I will inevitably forget to mention someone, and will then hold a grudge for the rest of our lives.

I must first give thanks to Almighty God, for the many gifts He has given me: my health, family, and this great nation… Nothing happens without permission of divine providence and I am grateful for the opportunity to serve our nation in the United States Navy. It is only with His blessing that I have been able to have a successful career.

To my beautiful wife Allana; thank you for saying yes to a proposal that not only would have you putting up with someone as insufferable as myself, but also would drag you across the county several times where your husband would spend well over half the time on the ship. Thank you for joining me on this crazy adventure. With my retirement you have my word that I will devote every ounce of effort to come up with believable excuses for why I’m still not helping out at home.

To my 3 (almost 4) children. Thank you for being my anchor to adulthood. They say you never really grow up until you have kids of your own to worry about. After a 38 year childhood I have finally grown up thanks to you. I even have almost as many tools as video games now. I never knew heartache at getting underway until you came into my life. After 43 years on this planet you are my greatest success. My duty days are done now and I will devote more time to ensuring that success… even if it kills us.

To my parents. Thank you for being the best parents I could hope for. God sure knew what he was doing. The only way this lazy, hard headed, stubborn, temperamental kid would ever amount to anything, was in the house led by your example. Your values, faith, devotion, motivation, and patriotism formed me into the man I am today (yes, that’s right, you have to accept some of the blame). Every success I have had is the result of following your example and, fittingly, every failure I owe to neglecting that same example. And, Mom, I’d like to point out that I followed your advice for my entire career and never fell off the ship.

To my sisters Katie and Mary. I know we spent years fighting as we moved around the country following Dad’s Naval career. But I guess that’s one of the things that leads to a strong family. You’ve been there every step of the way. My boot camp graduation, my pinning as a Chief Petty Officer. Thank you for being here. Katie, when you were initiated as a Chief, I guess you became my double sister. Just remember, that as I retire today, I still outrank you… for now. I’m sure soon enough you’ll surpass me.

To CDR Kevin Barnes. Thank you for making the trip out here and agreeing to lie by saying nice things about me. Who would have thought that young uptight ensign and this obnoxious 3rd class back on the OSCAR AUSTIN would be wearing scrambled eggs and anchors today?

To Father Mahowald. Thank you for your prayers here today and your vocation. You and your brother priests are an inspiration to be emulated to all the faithful. We owe you a great debt for answering the Lords call of service. While it’s possible that my service may have saved some lives. It is certain that yours has saved souls.

To Jade Kennard and Rob Landeros. Thank you for helping me coordinate this event. It has far surpassed my expectations. You have had to had to do the impossible, put up with me and my random ideas.

Stu Hooper, thank you for agreeing to MC this event and as a result have to talk almost as much as me.

To all participants in this ceremony. Thank you for taking your valuable time to making my day. And thank you to our shipmates who are standing the watch and can’t be here with us.

Thank you to the Air det guys for moving all their gear in and out of the hangar several times to make space for us.

To our Command Master Chief Pat McCormick. I have been a thorn in your side since you got here. But hey, that’s just my job: the devil’s advocate, the voice of dissent, the smart-aleck, and generally, just a pain the neck. You have been a great mentor… which is even more impressive since I am not really a cooperative protégé. When I had started to lose faith you smacked me upside the head as a true Chief would and told me to quit whining and anchor up. I’m not sure if I ever truly stopped whining but I did try. Thank you. You are a true brother, and I am proud to have served with you.

To all my brothers and sisters in the Chiefs’ Mess. Thank you for all you do and will continue to do long after I have left this stage. Blood is thicker than water, but not many bonds are stronger than the bond forged in the US Navy Chiefs’ Mess. The greatest fraternity I never knew I wanted to be a part of. Here’s a little secret: as a young… younger Sailor I never liked Chiefs. Those arrogant old goats who thought they knew better just because they wore those anchors. Sure I wanted to make Chief, but I didn’t want to be one of them. Then I was selected for Chief. I didn’t just drink the Kool-Aid. I chugged the whole pitcher. I am a true believer. There is no organization I would rather be accepted in than the United States Navy Chief Petty Officer Mess. Y’all have had my back since day one. You have trusted me and always kept me straight; sometimes with advice, sometimes with a kick in the pants. Thank you.

To our Captain. Thank you for granting permission for this ceremony today. It’s a extremely busy week for the OMAHA and I know this cuts into the ship’s schedule. Thank you for being here today sir, and for your kind words. We’ve only served together for a short time, but it’s been an honor.

To my fellow Quartermasters. Only a QM can understand another QM. Life lived on the bridge among the officers but firmly entrenched in the enlisted ranks. At sea everyone seems to want to talk to us, so they can find out where the ship is (as if that location would make the slightest difference in their daily existence… “do you have a date or something?”) On the other hand in port, no one seems to care about us (which is ok since we like to leave at before lunch.) Thank you for all the support you have given me over the years, especially helping this old man figure out how to use VMS… I’ve almost got it figured out. It’s long been said “trust your keel to those who wear the wheel.” I’m proud to have served among you. Keep those ships off the rocks!

To the crew of the USS Jackson / USS Omaha. Thank you for an outstanding tour of duty to close out my career. There are so many of you that I have gotten to know but I just don’t have time to mention you all by name. I will miss this crew most of all.
And finally to everyone else I’m forgetting, the old shipmates, friends and family that have been with me along the way. Don’t feel slighted. I’ve got to wrap this “thank you” thing up or we’ll never get to have any cake. Thank you all for everything.

Well that just about does it for the thank yous. I’m sure I left someone out and I apologize for that.

There comes a point in every Sailor’s career when he knows it’s time to retire. This is different for every Sailor. For example, the average Warrant Officer experiences it just as his coffin is being lowered into the ground. For me it was about 15 minutes after I got off the bus at boot camp. Fortunately the Navy doesn’t have a 15 minute retirement policy, otherwise I would have missed out on the most amazing years of my life.

Most of you know that I am a Navy brat. My father was career Navy as was his father. I grew up traveling around the country from one duty station to the next. If you had asked me what I wanted to do with my life my answer was always “I’m going to join the Navy.” What I planned do in the Navy was never the same. During the 80’s I was going to fly F-14s like Maverick (who is apparently and inexplicably still in the Navy himself). Later I decided I was going to be a SEAL.

Well you know the old saying “if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans.” It seems that my calling was in the Surface Navy. The real Navy. The only part without some sort of adjective. The toughest group of Sailors in the Navy. Sure people will claim that Pilots, SEALs, EOD, or Submariners (that’s for you IT1) are tougher, but just send one of those SEALs to serve 5 years on a destroyer…

SEALs have an unlimited budget. Our budget is very limited. SEALs have a saying: “The only easy day was yesterday.” Huh, how about that? SEALs have easy days. In the surface fleet, yesterday was hard too.

Air dales, those guys can’t do anything without 8 hours of sleep. My last deployment that was how much I got weekly.

EOD… sure their job is dangerous, but if they screw it up just once they don’t have to worry about anything again.

And of course, those sub guys… yeah we’re not gonna go there… It’s too easy.

When the United States Navy was founded on October 13, 1775 there wasn’t any of that. John Paul Jones, David Farragut, George Dewey, Daniel Stevens, Osmund Ingram, Peter Tomich, Dorie Miller… Surface Sailors built naval history and tradition. The Surface Navy is the real navy, I’m proud to have been part of it.

Even so, my Naval career had a particularly rocky start. You see, it turns out the Navy is a whole lot more glamourous from the outside than it is on the inside. Even as a Navy brat, all you really see is the sharp uniforms and ships. You don’t see the PMS checks. Painting the ship. Working parties (which is one of the least fun parties I’ve attended). The duty days, the underway watch rotations, the deployments that remind you of the movie Groundhog Day where the same day is replayed forever.

We have a saying: “A bitching Sailor is a happy Sailor,” and during my first enlistment, according to this definition, I was a very happy Sailor. So happy, in fact, that still today I run into people I served with on my first ship and they are very surprised that I stayed in. But I survived my first hitch and I discovered that I actually wasn’t too bad at this Navy thing. About the same time Al-Qaeda decided to fly a few planes into some of our buildings.

As the country was thrown into the war on terror I was finishing up my first enlistment just before the maiden deployment the OSCAR AUSTIN. Well there was no way I was gonna miss out on the war especially since we would probably be going after the people who devised the attack on our country.

So I reenlisted. The OSCAR AUSTIN deployed. We escorted dozens of military cargo ships through the Strait of Gibraltar, captured an Iraqi tug boat, launched 33 Tomahawk missiles into Iraq (you should have seen those Tomahawk FCs strutting around…) and I spent 2 months on liberty risk (but that’s a story for another day… well maybe if you meet me at the bar tonight…).

I spent 5 years on the OSCAR AUSTIN. I started out as the disgruntled Sailor who couldn’t wait to get out but when I left to go to shore duty I was thinking, maybe, just maybe there’s something to this Navy thing…. I mean, my father did it. My grandfather did it… Might as well keep the tradition going.

A lot of Sailors live their first enlistments to just get shore duty, but when you get there you’re in for a surprise. Shore duty is boring. The comradery, the sense of purpose, the urgency are all gone. I had gone from a 2nd class divisional LPO where the Captain regularly asked my opinion, to a 1st class with virtually no responsibility. I probably should have taken more college courses but instead I counted down the days until it got back to the fleet.

My next sea duty assignment was PC Crew ECHO. PCs are the smallest commissioned warships in the U.S. Navy. Only 179 feet long with only a 28 man crew. I like to think of the PCs as the pirate navy. Where regulations were more guidelines than actual rules. We were commissioned naval warships but our adherence to naval regulations was a bit loose. Here’s a story for you:

So there I was standing OOD (inport) on the bridge of the USS TEMPEST (PC-2) (inport watch on a PC is in the bridge… it’s a really small ship). The Captain came on the bridge and sat in his chair. (Just so you understand, the bridge on a PC is about the size of a walk-in closet.) The standard greetings commenced “Good afternoon sir.” “Good afternoon QM1.” On the aft bulkhead the 21MC sounded off, “Bridge, Main. Start #1 MPDE.” I turned to the Captain and requested permission to start #1 Main Engine. He granted it and I went to verify that the bridge was station in control and that the throttles were in neutral. I went back to the 21MC and replied, “Starting #1 MPDE, throttles are in neutral, bridge is station in control.” I walked over to the starboard side of the bridge (right in front of where the Captain was sitting) and pushed the green start button, the engine roared to life. I went back to the 21MC and reported “#1 MPDE started.” Cheng repeated, “#1 MPDE started aye.

It was at this point I noticed that the captain was looking at me the same way my father would have looked at me if I’d showed up to meet the Pope in a pair of pair of board shorts. Incredulously the Captain asked (and I’m sure you engineers can guess where he was going with this), “QM1, what did you just do?” This strikes me as odd since he not only saw me start the engine, he granted permission not more than a minute ago.

It occurred to me that since he was relatively new to the ship he might not be aware that PCs start all the engines from the bridge and not in main control. So simply replied (as respectfully as you can imagine), “I started #1 MPDE sir.”

Still looking aghast he asked, “In accordance with…?”

“In accordance with the green button on the console.”

Now trying to control rage and frustration he said, “EOSS?”

“Bless you sir.”

Okay I didn’t actually say that. I actually knew what EOSS is. It’s a red notebook that says EOSS on it and has something to do with engineering things, but seeing as I was a Quartermaster I still had no idea why wanted to talk to me about it. But since this was obviously important to him I went to the front of the Ship Control Console and grabbed the EOSS book. It was covered in a thick layer of dust. And not just normal dust. It was that sticky kind of dust you find on the top of your refrigerator. This book had not been used recently. Definitely not in the past year. In fact it was possible that it hadn’t been used in the life of the ship. I opened it up went to the page about starting engines where is said “Push the green button.” How about that ? I was EOSS compliant.

It was with ECHO that I was selected and initiated as a Chief Petty Officer. I won’t go into the details. My fellow Chiefs already know about it, and if you haven’t experienced it no explanation will do it justice. Let’s just say I didn’t die in the process.

I won’t bore you with all the other details of my career path. If you are curious feel free to read my bio in the program… it’s a good treatment for insomnia.

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If there is one thing I love to do is give unsolicited advice. So I’m going to give you a list of wisdom and aphorisms I have picked up, plagiarized, and in a few rare cases, actually come up with on my own along the way.

-There are only two great ships in the Navy: Your last one, and your next one.

-The BMR says the backbone of the ship the keel. But the actual backbone of the ship is her crew.

-Once a Chief, always a Chief… unless you are expelled from the Mess for the unforgivable crime of becoming an officer. But that’s ok, my father is an officer and look what he accomplished: he raised 2 Chiefs.

-Duty is the sublimest word in the English language. You should do your duty in all things. You can never do more, and never wish to do less.

-There is only one test or inspection that really counts: Real Life.

-The definition of tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell and have them look forward to the trip.

-The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

-Sailors belong on ships, ships belong at sea, land is a hazard to Navigation… but we all know we kinda want to be where we don’t belong.

-Never judge someone until you walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you judge them you’re a mile away and have their shoes.

-Place your family before your job. The Navy was here before you, and it will do just fine when you leave… your family will always be with you.

-Never attribute to malice that which can be ascribed to sheer stupidity.

-The definition of a calculated risk is a gamble which military men take when they can’t figure out what else to do and which turns out to be right. When it turns out wrong, it wasn’t a calculated risk at all. It was a piece of utter stupidity.

-If you want something now really bad, you will get it now and it will be really bad.

-The reason the US Navy performs so well in war is that war is chaos, and the US Navy practices chaos on a regular basis.

-Nothing worthwhile is easy.

-Don’t be full of yourself. If your people will follow you anywhere, it’s probably out of curiosity.

-There is no such thing as a born leader. There are born jerks who like to be in charge, but that doesn’t make you a leader. Whether you are shy introvert, a head strong extrovert, at Type A, a Type B, or just a born jerk that likes to be in charge, being a leader means taking charge in spite of your personal characteristics. This is never easy. Being a leader is NEVER EASY. It is a constant fight against your selfish nature to focus on your people and the mission first.

This is the last day I will wear the uniform, so I will no longer wear the anchors I have worn for the past 8 years. Since I will no longer wear them, I need to pass them on to someone who will hopefully soon be able to give them new life. Since I am the only Quartermaster aboard I have looked to the ET/IT division as my surrogate division. They work up on the bridge (yeah, weird huh? That’s a first for me). And, while terribly understaffed, they work tirelessly and exceptionally to keep this ships networks and endless electronic gizmos functioning.

IT1 Dwyer: Front and Center. You may be a submariner at heart, and I have no idea what all that computer stuff you talk about means, but you’ve got drive and heart that motivates me. I hope to see you in Khakis soon, and maybe, just maybe these anchors have a little luck left in them.

But you know, I wear the same kind of anchors on my whites, so I guess I have to pass on that set too.

ET1 Thao: Front and Center. You are never without a smile and positive attitude even when you are stringing together an impressive outburst of profanity at the frustrations that come with being an electronics technician aboard an LCS. I’ve enjoyed our many conversations on the smoke deck. I hope these anchors can bring some luck your way.

Finally I’d like to close with a quote from one of greatest presidents, Abraham Lincoln, in one of his most famous speeches: “Be excellent to each other, and… party on dudes!”

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