SSN 680 Plan of the Day
The COB Has Shipped His Oars...

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My first week at sea, ever, on the Bates I spent bunking with the fish, and hot-racking with Gene Diana, in a vain attempt to salvage my sanity. Two weeks later, imagine the look on Bob's face when I was called up front at quarters to be promoted to 1st class. He wasn't expecting it, he never asked, and I never told him. I thought he'd have to look at my service record at some point. He was shocked, having a 1st class bunking with the torpedos, and seemed to resent the fact I hadn't pushed back when he sent me there, and it was something that remained between us for the rest of his tour.
Perhaps it was the fact, that after CDR Hicks shook my hand, I reached up to my left sleeve of my utility jacket, and peeled off the black electrical tape covering the bright red third stripe under my crow, that I had arranged to be sewn on a day in advance of the promotion ceremony. The look on the COBs face suggested that somehow I had unknowingly crossed an imaginary but important line, and that he might remember that slight for the rest of our time together
On the other hand, I suspect that he was just doing what COBs had to do to keep the machine working smoothly and on mission, and I can't fault him for that. I learned a lot those first two years on the boat, and I'm sure a lot of that was learning was maintained by the COB himself.
Sailor, rest your oar. Thanks for carrying the load. We won't forget you!
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