28 August 2008
 
Mr. Bill

I was in Mr. Carter’s navy for a couple minutes, and then Mr. Regan’s for a long time, and Mr. Bush the first seemed to flicker briefly. He came to visit one time, the mighty USS Forrrestal, He was on his way to meet Mr. Gorbachev on the island of Malta, which used to be the homeport of the Royal Navy’s Med Squadron, and was mostly used by terrorists from Libya in my time.
 
I used to skip rope down in the hangar bay of the FID, near the brass plaques that commemorated the terrible fire that happened when young LT McCain was aboard. He might have been a LCDR then, I would have to check. They promoted them fast when they were being sent into the meat-grinder over Hanoi.
 
“FID” was short-hand code for the ship‘s motto, which formally paid tribute to our namesake, former Navy Secretary James V. Forrestal, who was later conned into becoming the first Secretary of the new consolidated Defense Department. First in Defense, went the line.
 
We often just called her the Forest Fire, which was at least as accurate.
 
Anyway, the first Mr. Bush came and went and then the world ended. There was the Man from Hope, and the rumors of change. Yu can well imagine that we were all a little apprehensive about what was to come, “nervous in the service” is one of the term we had, and sure enough, the line in the sand came almost immediately.
 
The first was the rumor that Major General Barry McCaffery, hero of DESERT STORM, had been snubbed by one of the fresh-faced young Clinton staffers at the White House. Reportedly, the young woman told the general that “We don’t talk to people like you,” and then there was the thing about gays.
 
A tense standoff resulted in the curious- may I say queer?-  policy of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Apparently is was OK to be homosexual, though the government reserved the right to prosecute you.
 
The famous story went around quoting the crusty old Mustang Limited Duty Officer, who abruptly retired at the news. He said he joined when being gay was illegal, now it was tolerated, and he wanted out before it became compulsory.
 
We got off to a rocky start with Mr. Bill, who did not seem to have the gravitas of his predecessors. We used to see him around town in his armored limos, or golfing at the club, since he was extended a complementary membership as all chief executives are.
 
He really did seem to be one of us- not a military guy, of course, but like one of the old rascals at the fraternity who would torment the Pledge class and then get stinking drunk and roll his pick-up truck out on the Interstate and walk away from it laughing.
 
I had to think about that when he came on the television last night to fix some of the holes that his wife had left in her remarks to the convention. Mr. Bill was unequivocal in his endorsement, and you could see how relieved Mrs. Obama was in the audience that he didn’t do something whacko, like he did down in South Carolina in the primaries.
 
I can understand that Mrs. Clinton is never going to get over this- I have been married, so I know how this works. But seeing Mr. Bill so sunny and buoyant brought back some good times.
 
After the gaff with the homosexual issue, Mr. Bill pretty much left us alone over at Defense. He was content to snip away the budget, and ensured that women were integrated into the total force. But he let us do it. It seems now that the pressure has been on for so long that even the third rail about sexual orientation has lost most of the electricity.
 
I mean, once you have men and women serving with a modicum of equality out there in the field, or in the floating steel boxes, everyone knew what was going to happen was going to happen.
 
A friend told me about the porta-potty liaisons that are common these days in Iraq. It is the only place that people can get together with some privacy. It an unsettling olfactory image, combining two such disparate but necessary human functions, but that is the way it is for many folks. I have no idea what the long-term consequences of the association might be; perhaps we could ask Senator Craig.
 
With that sort of simmering sexuality as an intrinsic component of the war, the whole idea about which genders are rocking the fiberglass huts gets a little preposterous. It is more importa nt that the things don’t fall over and jam the door against the sand.
 
That would be a big deal.
 
Anyway, aside from the big deal, Mr. Bill only messed with us on the margins. For the most part, he let us run our own affairs. He knew he did not have the street creds to really lead us, and he had the grace not to pretend to.
 
Unlike the people who came after him.
 
I think that pretending to be a warrior might be more dangerous, on the whole, than knowing that you are not and leaving it to the professionals.
 
Anyway, it was good to see him back. I had no idea I was going to miss him so much.

Copyright 2008 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com