A Quick Digression

Let me say for the record that the navy likes to drink. And when it drinks, it prefers pure grain alcohol. And when it prefers pure grain alcohol it does so slowly and in large quantities. Nowadays, of course, they’re trying to take certain measures, certain steps, but back then...oh, mama!

That being the case, there were always a few individuals who despite the guards and all the preparations would slip away from the ship the night before a patrol - prompting an all-night manhunt in their honor. Their limbs slackened from the alcohol, they would eventually surrender, after which they would be placed on children’s sleds and dragged back to the boat. Along the way they’d fall asleep and have to be carried on board in wheelbarrows. And not until the third day, when they were already miles from their native shores, would they regain some shreds of their former consciousness.

But there were also a few who couldn’t be found in time, and so, to fill their shoes, the brass would requisition the first person in sight. I remember one time they snatched this young lieutenant right off the pier and the guy’s wife spent the next three days looking for him; but she must not have been looking in the right places because she wasn’t able to find him no matter where she looked.

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