It is veterans day. My thoughts turned to my eldest brother, Harold. He was in the Navy. I'm not certain of the exact years of his service but I'm pretty sure he enlisted in 1964. He would have been 17 at that time. I was eleven. Strange how far apart six years seems when you are that young. Today six years is hardly noticeable. He did write me a few times. Funny what I remember the most was he would send me this Navy magazine, All Hands I believe. Remember this was in '64 or '65 and things were a bit different then. This magazine had a centerfold! Yes, it featured a buxom young lady in various stages of dress and undress. First published in 1945 it was discontinued in 1991. I remember seeing an edition of it while I was on active duty and the centerfold was missing. It had been discontinued as inappropriate I suppose.
My brother Harold was a Radioman. He had attended that school after boot camp and was stationed aboard the USS Arlington AGMR-2. That ship resembled an aircraft carrier but its' mission was communications. In the photos I saw of it antennas were everywhere. At one time it was off the coast of Vietnam, monitoring war messages I would assume. I was only told, I can't talk about that by my brother. He hinted at knowing a lot of secrets in those days. Yes, what I now know as, sea stories. I know because I have a few of my own. But at eleven years old he was a genuine war hero in my eyes. When he came home in his uniform, with stripes and medals, telling his tales I was indeed impressed. He was a real sailor, just like in the movies.
Harold was home for the holiday in 1968. I remember that because he was stationed aboard the USS Pablo. Pablo was a Navy tug boat, possibly in Philadelphia. Whatever the case was the name of your command/ship is worn on your left shoulder. He was in church, in uniform and someone was whispering about the name on his uniform. After the service a small group of people approached him and began asking if he was alright and how they had prayed for him. He was confused to say the least. It turned out they had mistaken the name Pablo for Pueblo. If you remember the USS Pueblo was a navy spy ship and North Korea captured her. It was quite the international incident, almost started a war. Harold figured it out and explained to them it wasn't the same ship.
Just seven years after my brother Harold joined the Navy I did the same thing. I went in August of 1971 following high school graduation. It's a long story but that was decided by a coin toss, Army or Navy. Navy won the toss. It really had nothing to do with Harold having been in the Navy. My father had served in WW2 in the then, Army Air Force and questioned why I didn't consider that. I had no interest in airplanes, flying or any of that. GI Joe or a sailor were far more appealing. I have to admit I did embrace the whole "sailor" thing for my early years of enlistment. That calmed down with age. Brother Harold suffered some personal tragedy and was given an honorable discharge for hardship reasons. He was a second class petty officer at the time.
Harold left us eleven years ago. I think of him often and smile when I hear his stories. Yes, I still hear them. A sailor? You bet he was, and he played the part. You see there is a bit of "performance art" to being in the military. We don't just present arms, we present ourselves. It's a difficult thing to explain to those that have never served. You are constantly being judged, evaluated they call that. Once a quarter you have to sign a document that rates your performance. And then there is that pressure to "fit in" be one the guys. You have to understand that the "old guys" the mature leaders are still in their late twenties. If you are older than 22, you are most likely a lifer. Harold was all of that and a bit more. You don't think so? Well, you would have to hear the stories. I bid him Fair Winds and a Following Sea. My brother and a shipmate.
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