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Day By Day© by Chris Muir.


Wednesday, December 20, 2006

a Christmas seastory from my shipmate mad max

here's a taste:

One of the best Christmas dinners i ever ate was 600 feet underwater, somewhere very cold . . .It was in the Pacific, I can't be specific - the mission was too classified:

On Christmas Eve, Jim sat in the crew's mess, waiting for the mess attendants, called cranks, to bring the evening's meal of pea soup, knackwurst, boiled potatoes and cranberry sauce when Santa popped up through the battery well hatch in the deck next to hm. Jim glared at the corpseman, Doc, across the table.

Rising from the hatch, Santa's voice was like a chainsaw, as he shouted "Merry Christmas you ******* *************!!!"

Santa was quite the sight! At six feet three inches, and two hundred sixtyfive pounds, he was dressed in filthy, oil stained red and white velour, and sported a ten year old K-mart beard that couldn't quite conceal his own red greasy stubble, nor the fact that he was really Tex, the torpedoman.

"Ho Ho Ho! I got some stuff for you *************" Santa bellowed as he threw packages across the crew's mess.

go read the whole post here


Blogger Va Beach Herb said...

My Christmas Eve Sub Story: (AKA Twas the night before Christmas and this is no S**T.)
I was sitting on the mess decks with a couple of Crew members at around 2345 on Christmas Eve. We were talking about a story we heard where one boat's CO had the ship drill a scram, go to PD, ventilate the ship and pretend Santa came down the induction mast to bring presents to the crew.
Well just as we are talking, we hear "Reactor Scram, rig ship for reduced electrical." We just looked at each other with dropped jaws. As it turned out, Santa wasn't the reason for the scram, it was actually the Electric Plant operator screwing around with the MCP controls. He was subsequently "de-nuked" and sent to (shudder) the surface Navy.

12/21/06, 5:16 AM  

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