Destroyer School was seven months of enjoyment. Our class began in May of 1973.

i learned. Lord, did i learn. i think it might be the most complete and thorough learning experience i’ve ever had over seven months. Every aspect of being a department head on a destroyer, every department was covered. In addition, the group of officers were a rather incredible group of guys. Nearly all were single, and Kathie enjoyed being with them as much as i. We had parties at our Navy housing duplex in Fort Adams. We spent a lot of time in the small officer’s club up from the destroyer piers. WE went out to dine at Salas in Newport and renamed their house wine because Mr. Cribari, we decided looked like Harry Truman.

And i reconnected with LCDR Earl Major. i followed Earl through our childhoods together. He was six months older than me and lived up the hill just over a block from my house. He played third base on the Little League all-star team. i played third the next year. He was the co-captain of the junior high football team, i was the co-captain the next year. We were counselors for Tennessee Boy’s State together. He went to Auburn on an NROTC scholarship. The next year, i went to Vanderbilt on the NROTC scholarship the next year. We had not seen each other since 1961.

And out of destroyer school, we both were assigned ships in Long Beach. We remained close friends when he died of cancer at 56. But boy, did we have fun.

It was a wonderful time, and we all shared our sea stories. i think this one is one of the best i’ve ever heard.

Several officers who had served on the USS Brownson (DD 868).

CHENG (chief engineer for landlubbers) on the  Brownson had won the respect of the ship’s officers who were with me in the six-month course was just on the south side of daffy and apparently had done several wild and goofy things while aboard . But he was a superb engineer and somehow the captain tolerated all of his shenanigans.

The Brownson had been operating for about two weeks with exercises in the Atlantic op areas off of Newport but had been independent steaming for several days. There was not much going on, no shipping to speak of, and relatively calm seas. Those watches, especially at night, are boring where you struggle to stay awake. CHENG had the mid-watch on the bridge, nine total bodies on the bridge in the dark. In watches like that when i was OOD, i would query the watch standers about the actual names of the 16 points in the compass, like “one point off the starboard bow” is “nor, nor by nor east.”

But Brownson’s CHENG had a bigger idea. About half-way through his mid-watch, he transferred steering control to after steering. Then he shifted the entire bridge team to the flying bridge on the 04 level directly above the bridge. Finally, he had the Boatswainmate of the watch go to the 1MC (the ship’s loudspeaker system) and pipe attention, followed by the announcement, “Captain to the Bridge!” On old destroyers or for that matter any Navy ship i served during my career, every captain when underway spent his nights in the “sea cabin” immediately aft of the bridge so he could quickly access the bridge in an emergency — apparently, the new age of commanding officers no longer feel required to sleep in the sea cabin but choose the much larger, more comfortable Captain’s Cabin below the bridge for the evening.

So the pipe had called attention and the BMOW had called the captain to the bridge. The captain erupts from his rack, crashes out of the sea cabin in his pajamas with his housecoat dragging behind…and there in the middle of the night on the “darken ship” bridge no one is on the bridge. The bridge was empty.

The officers telling the story did not explain what happened after that except to say, the captain and CHENG had a meaningful conversation in the wardroom the next morning.

i keep trying to imagine what ran through the captain’s mind those first thirty seconds or so when he ran onto the bridge ready for an incredible emergency and the bridge was empty.