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How Woody Got His Name


So, many of you have responded to me lately when I've asked what would you like to read from me and overwhelmingly, it's been Navy stories. So, Navy stories it shall be, but be advised, we call them Sea Stories.

Want to know the difference between sea stories and fairy tales?

Fairy tales start with "Once upon a time..." and sea stories start with "This ain't no shit..."

This ain't no shit. One of my favorite deployment sites was and always will be Rota, Spain. It is a lovely place on the southern coast of Spain, a lovely spot on the Bay of Cadiz. Beautiful weather and beaches, a true paradise.

For VP Sailors, it was a hub of flight operations during the height of the Cold War, as we tracked Soviet submarines from when they came out from the ice off the coast of Greenland, past Iceland, past the Azores and then into the Straits of Gibraltar to enter the Med. Good times.

But this story is about a young engine mech Shipmate of ours. As Sailors will do, we took to the liberty calls in  Rota and we frequented a local establishment called Benny's. It was perfect. 3 indoor bars and dance floors, an outdoor bar with a pool, good food, cheap beer and beautiful girls.

My young friend, whose christian name was Brian*, was at the bar with us and had imbibed a bit and was, shall we say, drunk to the gills. And he was quite happy with himself.

You see, he sat there at the bar, sweet talking a beautiful young thing, whispering his best lines, had a lapful, things progressing nicely for a young Sailor on deployment.

Brian* didn't notice us, his merry band of 'friends' standing a distance away, quite amused in our own right, watching our young stalwart advancing his moves. He glanced at us, gave us a wink and somewhat unsteady thumbs up, as if to signal to us he was 'going in'.

At that point, things happened really, really fast. Brian* laid a face embracing lip lock on his tan beauty and deftly proceeded to slide his hand up a somewhat shorter than normal skirt. We, his wingmen, started planning our egress routes. 

For at that moment, of full contact and a slightly delayed response mechanism on Brian's* part, he then fully realized that he indeed have himself a 'handful' in this one. 

As often we find out, in our drunken states, not all is always quite what it seems and in this case, Brian's* young friend wasn't what 'she' seemed. Especially to our now newly named Shipmate 'Woody'. a fist flew, a body hit the floor and the aforementioned short skirt revealed the truth to all. We, his loyal friends, were on our way out the previously planned escape routes.

Now, we could have kept this to ourselves, never to say a word and let Woody avoid the embarrassment that was coming.

Obviously, if I'm telling the story 20 something odd years later, that was not the course we set our rudders to.

Here's to you Woody!

Semper Fortis

Chief Chuck

*His name has been changed, just in case he reads this and comes to hunt my ass down.

PS. I'm selling my ebook, Sailor Words, for $5 at the link that follows and 100% of the proceeds go to provide morale support to residents of Charlotte Hall Veteran's Home, a residential home that I support in my local community. Give it a look and help those that served us all. Thanks!  https://gum.co/sailorwords


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