I am going to break tradition here and post my Shellback Card. I have a reason for it. The card recognizes successful completion of a solemn and sometimes brutal ceremony held on ships of the Old Navy- the one in which my pals and I served. To commemorate crossing the Equator, we were screamed at, forced to crawl bare-legged and bleeding on the abrasive non-skid coating of the flight deck and had our asses slapped with chopped up fire hoses, among other fun things.

It was the only time I recall the sailors were empowered to actually strike the officers who were in charge of their welfare, and never mind that fat chief whose Crisco-covered belly we had to kiss to proceed to the dumpster filled with garbage, swim its length and be done with the ancient ritual.

It was more than a bit strange, what with the proud gray steel below us, and the vivid light blue of the vast ocean around us. It was distasteful enough that I carried the card proving I was a Shellback and never had to do anything but prove it to avoid pain and possible contamination from the contents of the dumpster. You can tell from the wear that it was nestled in the wallet for years, even for the duration of tours in Korea and Hawaii.

I think I quit carrying it and put it away in the files when I was assigned to Washington and discovered the capital had a lot in common with the crossing the line ceremony, except the dumpster was not only filled with vile stuff but was also on fire.

I bring that up for two reasons. First, Grace is trying to clean out some corners upstairs at Refuge Farm where I have not ventured in a couple years. In one of the desk anchors up there the ancient paper appeared. I had been meaning to locate it, in case a group of Sailors ever showed up at the house and demanded I prove my Shellback status and demonstrate I was not a Polliwog- “a damned Wog!” to be slapped around at their pleasure.

During that deployment on USS Midway (CV-41) we crossed the line twice, once headed south for joy, boredom and trouble the other time coming back north to our homeport in Yokosuka, Japan. In between we steamed endlessly in the North Arabian Sea on a spot in the moving sea we called “Gonzo Station.” We were responding to the Iranian hostage taking of our people at the Embassy in Tehran. We were quite proud of it, at the time. We went 105 days continuously underway on the sea, broken only by the occasional roar of jet engines and the inexorable march of the waves. We were nothing special except to ourselves, and two other carrier groups did that around the same time. I will not contest their claims.

It was exactly the same experience for us all.

In fact, it was enough to almost make you think it was no big deal. That occurred to me this morning when I read that Ike- USS Dwight D. Eisenhower (CVN-69)- and her group transited the Arabian Sea this month while deployed to the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operations in the Indian Ocean. To get there, the group had to pass through three critical chokepoints that channel the free flow of global commerce, not to mention today’s version of the plague. (Photo by Aaron Bewkes/U.S. Navy).

Ike and San Jacinto spent 161 days at sea, beating the standing record of 160 days previously held by USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN 71) who got stuck supporting the post-9/11 response back in February of 2002. The Navy’s approach to safety from the sickness was to pull up the ramps and ladders connecting steel to soil and keep the boats moving away from six-foot separations and surgical masks on the waves.

Times being what they are, I think the standard for crossing the line has been adapted to our new kinder and gentler standards. If anyone bled on the Equator this year, it might only have been an emotional nose-bleed, not the invigorating swack on the ass of a firehose wielded by an irate Shellback.
It is a New Navy now, sharing only the steel and the lovely sea with their hulking steel predecessors and hardy crews. Ike’s Skipper CAPT Kyle Higgins read some inspirational words probably penned by the ship’s anemic Public Affairs Officer:
“Our ships remain undeterred in the face of adversity and this monumental feat will only make our crews and the Navy stronger. I’m so proud of the young men and women I see on the deck plates each and every day. Their dedication to the mission is what makes our Navy the greatest fighting force the world has ever seen.”
Old Navy or New, I respect them all. I do have to maintain the attitude earned by my generation of Shellbacks. “Bring on the Wogs. And remember a short length of firehose.”
Copyright 2020 Vic Socotra
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