There were approximately 90 enlisted on board the ship at any given time. I can tell you this now. All of the Sturgeon 637 class submarines have been decommissioned and the information is no longer classified.
All of my blood, sweat, shit, piss, and precious "time on board" is just a ghost of a memory. as the ships have been cut up for scrap. All of the gags I pulled, the orders I disobeyed, the humorous log entries I made, songs I sang, letters I wrote and friends I made, my brothers in arms, all just memories.
I didn't receive credit for some of the things I did (example: worked all weekend when I had liberty because the other 209 tech, left the ship early) and received the blame for things I hadn't done (example: panty raid, Roosevelt Roads, Puerto Rico. 1984, not mine).
What was I talking about? Oh yes, 90 men on board. Lunch was from 11 am to 12 pm. No earlier, no later. Ninety men had one hour to eat and the mess decks could only seat 18 men at a time. You would double down on sliders and fries and get out so the next guy could get in and eat.
If you liked your sliders with cheese, you would wait for a fresh platter full to come out of the galley. They stacked twelve burgers on a platter, one platter for each table. The top burgers would have double cheese, both on the top and on the bottom, as the cheese from the burger beneath it would always stick to the bottom of the one on top. If you missed out there was plenty of cheese stuck to the platter.
We had burgers every Friday, in port or at sea. In port we had perishable foods such as baked goods (breads, doughnuts, etc.) delivered daily. When we went to sea, fruits, vegetables and milk were consumed quickly, usually within ten days. We would get no more until we made port again. Baked goods would be made onboard.
At sea the 2 man mess crews worked in two twelve hour shifts. The night shift setup for the next days meals and did the baking. Baking on board was done from scratch and was mostly edible, sometimes just barely.
Before I go any further, let me say this, I had a lot of respect for the cooks. It was my privilege to work along side them for the first one hundred and ten days I was attached to my first ship. It was called "cranking". I was a dishwasher. I saw first hand the abuse and insults they would take from some of the grumpy Gus's on board, who wouldn't have been happy even if their own mothers had done the cooking.
Baking from scratch takes a special talent. Like playing sports or a musical instrument, not everyone can do it. In my six years in the navy I only met one exceptional baker.
He was a big, burly 1st class petty officer, who had avoided going to sea for the 12 years he had been enlisted. Unusual, but not impossible.
Let me tell you this guy could bake. His yeast dinner rolls were golden and flaky, his cakes moist and
Sadly, he was only on board our ship for two months when an admiral came aboard ship for a sit down with the captain and stayed for dinner. You might guess who was cooking. Two days later he was promoted to chief petty officer.
As a general rule when someone is promoted to chief petty officer they are transferred to a new billet. Our baker was transferred to the admirals personal staff as his personal cook.
The whole crew was devastated by our loss. He was with us such a short time. But that is how legends are made.
For the two months before that, we were in bakers heaven.
Such was the way of things in the navy.
Until tomorrow,
Ken
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