A Girl Named Elliot

Published on June 15, 2004 By BlueJackMan In Humor

This is a true story about the day I met a very special lady. She would be reponsible for changing my life forever and for making me a man. Her name is Elliot. She's a rather big girl who easily displaces about 7 thousand TONS of water. See, Elliot is a U.S. Navy Destroyer(Spruance Class). This story is prompted by my learning of her impendent decommissioning that will take place Dec 2, 2003. These memories are heartfelt and true.

Time is a funny thing. It changes everything. Good example: I remember a day when I was a kid and mom had called me to dinner. Upon arriving at the table I could already smell that sweet tangy aroma of mom's lasagna; my favorite. Mom would cut a nice big and gooey piece, and slide it easily onto the plate that I was holding with two hands, right up next to the hot pan that she was serving from, without so much as spilling a drop or causing that giant tower of pasta and meat sauce to lean. As I was pulling the plate back towards myself, mouth dripping for that first bite and my stomach rolling, mom stopped me dead in my tracks with a trilogy of fear: It was what I could see, what I could hear and what I could smell that had me frozen. It was a new food. I saw the lid coming off a another pot, in the distance I heard mom's muffled voice , "Bring that plate back over here!" and third,"what was that smell?" "Oh God, I think I'm going to pass out! Please don't let me have to eat that!" It was then that I was introduced to brussel sprouts. Peculiar looking little vegetables that resemble small cabbages. When cooked, a horrific stench is released. But what "good" they were supposed to be for me. The taste was not much better than the smell, if any. I was made to eat 3 before I was excused from the table.I peeled each leaf off one by one and smothered it in sauce from the lasagna. That was many years ago and now, don't tell anyone, I love brussel sprouts.

Time is just as strange as that. I never thought I would make it through those forced feedings (all for good health)or that I would one day love them, but I did. As I said, life is funny like that and time is the one thing that changes it all. If you haven't experienced one of these revelations yet, you will one day. There will be many of them, and it could be about any miniscule thing; and then, one day later when u recall it, it's suddenly an important milestone possibly even life changing. Sorry to be so long winded but I wanted my point to be understood because now I'm going to tell you about my most recent realization. It's a true and heartfelt story of a girl named Elliot and the impact she has had on my life.

I have very fond memories of my time served aboard the Elliot; even the times that I thought weren't so fun actually were ie; middle of the night Underway Replenishments (UnRep), E-3 and below working parties, overhaul, and even the 42 degree roll we took while conducting exercises in the Aleutian Islands in the middle of winter. Time is all it takes to make an ordinary, everyday recalled event suddenly have importance. It could even be a place or a time of year. Every decision, action and reaction I had made in my life prior to that day, is what brought me to this point. It's also the reason I am here right now writing this entry. The path I took then led me to the USS Elliot in Sept of 1986 . I will never forget that day for as long as I live.

Having just completed Operations Specialist Appenticeship School in Damneck, VA and spending just a short time at home in Four Oaks North Carolina, My mom and great Aunt drove me to Fort Bragg where I was to catch my first military hop to North Island Naval Air Station in San Diego, CA. I was a brand new Seaman Recruit with eyes as big as life rings. We finally landed after what seemed like an eternity in the air. As the back of the plane dropped down and opened up, my first glimpse of the city now to be my home, proved to be everything I imagined. Palm trees and sunshine. I had finally made it to California.

It was a beautiful day that Sept 29. I was struggling with my one seabag and garment bag on the airfield's tarmac, when a voice called out, "Hey Sailor, where ya going?" I turned and looked. There in a khaki uniform looking at me was a Senior Chief Petty Officer. Might as well been God himself. I must have had "Boot Camp" written all over my face. I quickly explained to God that I was reporting to the USS Elliot at 32nd Street Naval Station. He informed me that he was headed that way himself and he reached over, grabbed my seabag, threw it over his shoulder and said, "Follow me."

I don't remember so much pulling through the main gate, but I sure as heck remember pulling up to the worlds longest pier. There on pier 7 moored port side to, stern in was the worlds biggest boat. "There she is," the Senior Chief pointed. Something in my stomach sank. I don't know what it was, but I was no longer excited.....just more scared. The first thing that struck me besides it's size, was it's color; gray. Not just some of the ship, but ALL of it; from top to bottom and from forecastle to stern, the entire ship was a depressing almost morbid gray.(Now, looking back I know that a high tide contributed to my inflated view of everthing that afternoon and the color I soon learned, is known as Haze Gray, which would soon become the color of my blood; and proudly.) I remember walking up the steps to the gangway towards the brow. My one seabag and garment bag wasn't getting any lighter. I remember it as though it was yesterday....a corner stone in my life; the sounds and smells of the last days of my boyhood.
Steam hissed and vented out of a small hole just above the water line on the ship's port side. From the fan rooms on either side of the quarterdeck, warm moist air forced it's way outside carrying with it the hint of food...didn't smell bad either, but not as good as mom's lasagna. As I approached the Officer of The Deck, I stole a quick glance of the main deck from fore to aft and thought, "How am I gonna keep these white uniforms clean on a grimy gray oily ship?" I sharply turned right and gave my best salute to Old Glory and then did a quarter turn to the left, saluted the OOD and requested permission to come aboard; "Permission Granted," came the reply. "OSSR Johnson reporting fo duty sir." As my foot came down aboard her, I saw no grime or oil. She was gray and clean and looked new....just like me, gray being the new color of my face absent any blood, and as for clean and new, well that was written all over my face. I was suddenly very aware of how lonely I was, lonely and afraid and secretly longing for my mother or father.

It started that day. A 5 year 4 month relationship. I don't know about what came after me, but up to that point, I was Elliots longest serving sailor. The Command Master Chief had a ceremony complete with cake and ice cream just a few weeks before I departed Elliot. There is not a piece of paper or a book big enough that could contain the words to convey to you, the impact serving aboard the Elliot and the memories that were born there had on me. I strongly believe that the friendships made among military personnel are different than those made by civilians. Let me explain. Sailors and soldiers train and fight together sweating and strugglling in the most tense of situations. We are taught from Day 1 at boot camp the meaning of team work. Teamwork is the only thing that will save your butt when you find yourself between a rock and a hard spot. That's why we hold drills and run scenarios for battle at sea, fire at sea and God forbid, surviving at sea. Decisions are made fast and our actions and reactions to those decisions even faster. It is during these times a sailor can see what he is made of what his shipmates are made of. This is when the real man is revealed. The Elliot is where I became a man. I learned of Courage, Honor and Integrity, as I suspect the same for many other shipmates that crossed Elliot's brow, before me and after.

So, I am saddened that her days are numbered and that her passageways and workspaces will soon be silent; all but the echoes of memories left behind. In my mind and in my heart, the Elliot will remain the same as I have always known her. Half way across the Pacific, in waters that are familiar to her she will find her new home. A place chock full of naval history. I hope that when my time comes to leave this physical plane, that I will somehow find myself on board the Elliot again with those that I knew before. Underway. Slicing through a sunset that has become one with the water. Where ones end is indistinguishable from the others beginning.Just sailing off, into a color of orange;enroute our best liberty port ever.

Comments

CMAA

on Apr 08, 2006

An excellent reflection of what it took to mold a person into an adult. It was a fine ship indeed.

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