Quiet couple of days here, from the flight deck of USS Eggers. Ever since I got here I’ve had an odd sense of familiarity– but not at all like Patton in the Roman ruins of North Africa. No, this was much more real.
I finally figured it out– I might as well be at sea. The base is tiny, and it has one long main street. I go from billeting to work space to chow hall to gym and back again. I catch glimpses of the outside world , and I get off every now and then but only in full gear (and no beer). And there are a lot of sailors here too. And most of the rules are stupid.
If you took everything that is now on one plane, divided it up and stacked the pieces three or four high, you’d have an amphib, complete with a flight deck. And that’s where I am– the U.S.S. Eggers, LHD-1369. No wonder I felt resigned to a familiar fate.
Sweepers Sweepers Man Your Brooms,
Give the Camp a good sweep down,
Fore and Aft.
So since it is like a ship do you get to go sleep in your bunk during GQ? Thats what I remember as the best part of being ‘embarked troops’- that and midrats.
HA! If we ever had GQ, that’s where I’d be headed, though. The MORP is a fine old tradition that ought to be revived. We do have midrats, come to think of it…