RANK SCHMANK!

 

by David W Asche

 

I was a paltry MLFN working in the foundry of USS Hector (AR-7) and those in charge had discovered I had a real talent for re-babbitting bearings. I wasn't just average...I was GOOD! So damn good in fact, I thought I was going to be doing the friggin' things for my whole Navy career!

One day, I was given a four-inch forced draft blower bearing from one of our own ship's boilers to re-line with new babbitt. No big deal, as it was a simple job and I had done these before...a few times.

It was done with skill and care and was cleaned and sent up to the lower machine shop to be bored and have all other manner of machine work inflicted upon it.

I was still cleaning up the bearing bench and putting the tooling away when this MR2 comes down the ladder, drops the bearing on the deck and ORDERS ME to, "Do it again!"

Well, I stared at the bearing as he went back up the ladder without even a Kiss My Ass and I began to dig out the tooling and set up the bearing for another bout of burnt fingers and smelling the smoke and fumes from the babbitt pot. I figured an honest mistake was allowed.

It was done, once again, with the same care and skill as before, and, once again, it was cleaned and sent back up to the machine shop to, once again, have the machinists inflict their skills upon it.

Once again, I was in the process of clearing away the tooling and mess from doing the bearing, and, ONCE AGAIN, the SAME MR2 comes down the ladder, NOT EVEN ALL THE WAY, drops the bearing on the deck and once again he ORDERS ME to, "Do it again!" and up the ladder he goes.

But in a flash, my mind went to GQ, the thought, "The HELL with THIS shit!" flashed upon my mental screen, and I was up the ladder right on his tail! He went forward through the lower machine shop, turned into the little shack of an office and plopped his butt down in a chair to await my re-re-work on the bearing.

I sailed right on past the Machine Shop office, up forward, hang a left and over to portside, up the ladder and knocked on the R-2 Division office at the top of the ladder. About now, a few of you may be wondering why I hadn't bothered telling my boss and letting HIM handle this issue...You don't know me that well, that's why!

The office was devoid of life forms other than one LIEUTENANT SHIRK, who was, at that time, the R-2 division officer. He said for me to come on in.

I said "Good morning sir. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He said, "Sure. WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND?" (emphasis wasn't because he was yelling at me, it was to show he ASKED ME in a human and respectful way to let him know what was on my mind.)

I was VERY impressed he sought my input to the situation. I explained how I had done the bearing to absolute professional standards TWICE and BOTH times, it was messed up by someone who had both rank and experience in HIS field he dropped it on the deck and demanded I pony up with more work to correct HIS mistake.

Now pay attention...this is where it gets real good....

Lt. Shirk ASKS ME, " Well, WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO ABOUT THIS?" (Again, emphasis isn't because he was yelling, it is to show what he said and HOW he said it and not treat me like a low ranking maggot.)

I said, "Well, sir, You let me have this MR2 tomorrow and I will teach him how much is involved with the work needed to reline a bearing and let him burn HIS fingers and let HIM smell the fumes and do the work."

Lt. Shirk then said, "You got it." At that moment, Lt. Shirk was my favorite officer in the whole damn Navy!

At promptly 0800 the next morning a couple of things were interesting to observe:

1) All other Molders were NON-EXISTANT. Charlie and the other sand pounders were down below and ORDERED by Charlie not to bother what was going on upstairs.

And 2) I had me a MR2 as my lackey for the day. All the tooling was out and ready to go, but he had to do every bit of the work. I was polite and didn't abuse him. The bearing was done, once again, to the standards I always did on a bearing. After all the mess was cleaned up, put away and cooled off, he took the bearing with him when he went up the ladder.

It did not come back.

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