"Today's military rejects include tomorrow's hard-core unemployed." John F. Kennedy
*
Alex was still adjusting to her new surroundings. She did not like the inner workings of the ship. Nor did she like the fact that she was placed in Deck Department. Deck was one of the worst places to be on the ship. She worked long hard days that wore her down. All she had time to do after work was go to sleep, in the terrible Navy rack. She rarely left the ship. She even spent an entire week not leaving it. She hated Duty days, days where she was confined to the ship and forced to stand watch and do other menial tasks.
The USS Tet Offensive was a living hell. It had returned from a deployment three months before poor Alex checked in. It had not faired well during its eight-month deployment. The ship lost a helicopter, four sailors died, the Commanding Officer was relieved of duty, and two missed ship's movement in Australia. And now it had failed a series of inspections and everyone had to work harder everyday. It seemed the majority of this work fell on Deck Department and more importantly Alex felt it fell on her.
Alex woke up at 5 a.m. on Monday morning. She let out a deep breath as she slid out of the rack. She unlocked her rack and lifted it up. She looked at the pictures of her and Cindy from the photo booth. She had taped them to the inside of her rack and not her rack. She didn't want anyone to know of her forbidden love. She found her coveralls and a white shirt. She quickly got dressed and slid her boots on. She walked to the bathroom to find it empty. She looked over her hair. She'd cut her hair much shorter. She felt that it was a bit butch but it was easier to maintain. Actually she was trying of attempting to fit in with the lesbian clique on her ship. But she found that very difficult. They didn't take kindly to new girls who tried to fit in. Most of the girls had bonded on deployment and wanted to keep it like that.
Alex made it to the galley before the rush. She got some cold eggs and bacon and found a seat in the far corner of the seating area.
"Ready to get fucked in the ass," a male voice said as he slammed his tray on the table.
"Jesus Huff," Alex let out.
"Sorry," he replied.
Huff sat down and began to dig into his food. Huff had survived the terrible deployment and knew what the next few months entailed.
"How long have you been here," he asked.
"Two months," she replied, "what about you?"
"Going on a year," he laughed.
"Gonna put on third," she asked quietly.
"Fuck no," he replied, "Boatswain's Mate is locked up all the way to first class."
"I can't do this shit," Alex sighed as she pushed what remained of her eggs on the plate.
"I hate it here too," he replied.
"Yeah."
"See you at muster," Huff laughed as he picked up his plate of the table.
"See you there too," she replied.
Alex sat there for about a minute more. She dumped her tray and left it at the scullery. She made it to muster in the forecastle at 0600. She tried hiding in the back, she didn't want to be seen or noticed. She wanted the day to be over, but since the series of failed inspections they wouldn't get off work until 1600. She noticed BM3 (SW/AW) Janet Watson looking at her the entire muster. She knew Watson was a lesbian and she had a vendetta against her. It wasn't for trying to fit in with the lesbian clique rather it was for her lackluster work ethic. Being in the shipyards wasn't fun and working for no particular reason was even worse. She'd been caught sleeping by Watson several times. Her painting skills were constantly criticized. And her inability to become qualified at even the most simple of things drove her supervisors crazy.
"You're going to be working for me today," Watson said as she approached her.
"Okay," Alex replied, "where are we going to be working?"
"You and Huff are going to be grinding the remaining paint on the fantail," she started, "Senior Chief wants that done today."
"No problem," she replied in a timid voice.
Watson led Alex and Huff to the tool issue and checked out a grinder and needle-gun. Watson left them before they made it to the fantail. She told them that she'd be back in a few hours after she wrapped up with something else. When Alex and Huff made it to their destination there was a large group of shipyard workers standing around.
"Great," Huff said in an aggrevated tone.
"What do we do," Alex asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
"Well they're just standing around," she started, "we should figure out what's going on."
"Fine," he said angrily.
He walked over to one of the workers. Alex carried the tools to the other side of the fantail and leaned against the railing. Huff talked to one of the workers for about five minutes. Alex looked around and stared at Downtown San Diego's skyline. She looked at the large buildings and wished she were in one of them doing something other than this. She felt that she was lucky being stationed in San Diego and not Norfolk or some other place.
"Fuck," Huff said walking over.
"What's going on," Alex asked.
"Some kind of dispute," he replied, "I think they're going to strike soon."
"What do we do now?"
"Nothing," he replied, "I think they're gonna stay back here all day."
"Well," she asked.
"Fuck it," he replied.
For the next two and a half hours they stood there looking at the shipyard workers. They couldn't take the tools back since they weren't checked out under their names, and they didn't want to go back to the shop. If they did go back to the shop they might be forced to work. They didn't want to work anyways. When the workers finally left they were mad. They realized they had to work.
"Let's do this shit," Huff remarked as he began to hook up the air hoses.
