Abe's Misadventures 13

Final Days

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Back in San Diego the chief in charge of reenlistments targeted Derrick first. Derrick filled in Abe on all the offers and arguments, the cushy assignment in Hawaii for two years, a nice signing bonus and preferential status at the next promotion, for a six-year commitment.

“Damn, that’s a sweet deal. Are you going to take it?” asked Abe.

“I was tempted, but who knows where the last four years will be. And by then I’d be over halfway to retirement. I’d end up a Lifer. I could retire with a small pension at forty, but then I would be out of place anywhere else.

“Yeah, that makes sense. It’s now or never.”

“What are you goin’ to do? You could be retired at 38!”

“Save up my leave, take some time to decompress, then head home. Go to school.”

“Good man. Good luck with the chief.”

Abe ended up getting an offer not quite as good as Derrick described, which made it easier to turn down while he pretended his ego wasn’t hurt. Maybe the chief had hit his quota and wasn’t trying so hard or maybe Abe wasn’t as good a catch.

Others were rotating duty assignments as well. The ship gained its first Black officer and two technicians as replacements for departing members, whether by coincidence or intent was anyone's guess. Abe guessed it wasn't random happenstance.

Derrick departed, leaving Abe with a changing shop. He was the longest assigned but not the most senior, so his duties changed little. He worked at not getting a short-timer’s attitude where nothing matters.

Before long the fateful day arrived, Abe departed the ship for the last time. No fanfare but he had an approval for thirty-days leave before formally separating from the U.S. Navy. He grabbed a taxi to a hotel, had an early dinner at the bar and then headed to the beach. The view wasn't as good as the time he and Derrick drank on the jetties, but he could watch the ships coming and going in the distance.

He visited flea markets and street parties, moving to progressively cheaper hotels as his cash drained. Deciding to err on the side of safety he returned to the base and checked in at the separation barracks a few days early. The angry barracks leader crushed his mood instantly.

"I was about to put out an AWOL notice on you!" the angry sailor yelled.

"I was granted thirty-days leave before I departed the ship," explained Abe, pulling out his paperwork.

"Stow that shit. You're supposed to check in here first, dumbass. You give me any more lip and I'll write you up for a violation right here."

Abe took a breath and held it. Counting to five slowly in his head. How could he screw up his last days after six years of experience?

The sailor, one paygrade below chief, slammed a key on the desk. "Go stow your gear and report for cleaning detail in fifteen minutes. Uniform of the day is dungarees for cleaning, summer whites for chow."

Abe took the key gently and headed up the stairs, familiar with the layout of the type of building from his time studying. He found his room, dumped his seabag out on the bed, extracted the uniform items he needed and threw the rest in the closet. He dressed quickly and hustled downstairs to form up with the other sailors.

The angry barracks leader came out of his office and brusquely called out assignments. Abe drew cleaning the head. He followed the crowd to the cleaning locker.

It was a long few days.

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