There is a tangled network of possibilities in each of our lives and the difference between our lives and the lives that could have been turns as often on tiny decisions as the monumental.
Last night, as I showered and prepared for bed, my mind wandered back to my navy days and to my tour on the mess decks. In the United States Navy everyone goes through Basic Training – boot camp—and after that most sailors advance to a specialized school for their rating. (Rating is the Navy term for your job.) I spent almost a year at my schools studying basic electricity and electronics, and then more schooling at electronic warfare, my chosen rating. However, once you reach the fleet, no matter your rating, as an enlisted sailor you will do a 90 day tour of duty in your command’s mess facilities.
Mess, of course, is the Navy term for the kitchens, dinning areas, and general food preparation. When I reported to the ship, I was assigned to the least desirable mess duty, the scullery. Despite the name, there are no skulls involved, but rather mountains of plates, flatware, and glasses to be washed. There were great machines, jets of scalding water, and limitless billowing clouds of steam, a work environment that more resembled Dante’s Inferno than a modern, even by 1980 standards, American warship. Through perseverance and hard work I graduated from the scullery to the floor, where the work proved much easier. On the floor I wiped down the tables, bused the trays left behind by less considerate sailor and marines, and kept all the condiments topped off.
Now, I had no understanding of the hierarchy in the Mess, I only wanted to keep my head down, do my time, and get to my assigned division high in the ship’s superstructure. My hard work paid off again when I was requested by the Nirvana of mess duty, the Bakery.
Philippe, the cook that ran the bakery, evidently had been impressed by my work and asked that they transfer me to his bakery. The bakery made all the breads, cakes, cookies, and other desserts for the meals. The work cycle for the bakery was lots of work before the meal, light serving duties during the meal, and light clean-up before sending the pans and sheets to the scullery for cleaning. An additional perk of course was all the sweets you could want.
I spent about half of my mess duty in the bakery; it was a happy simple time with few worries and plenty of good days. (Bringing a plate of cookies or cakes to the D&D games I player aboard certainly were appreciated.)
Eventually my tour on the mess drew to a close and Philippe asked me to consider switching my rating to Mess Specialist – cook. I was tempted, simply because life seemed to be going so well, and I always have anxiety at changes in my life and schedules. However, I demurred and insisted that I needed to go to my division and do the electronics I thought I wanted. That was the end of the happy times aboard that ship.
I never fitted in at the division, I did not get along with my Chief, and in the end my enlistment ended early, landing me ashore without prospects during a severe economic downturn.
What sort of life might have been had I stayed on the mess decks? Certainly one very different, but I’m not sure it would have been a better one. Little decisions in the chaotic system that is our lives prompt vastly different outcomes.
I retired as an EW in 2002, right before they merged all the EW’s into the T branchers of CT’s.
I lucked out of mess duty as I arrived at my first ship as a push-button 3rd. (FF-1065)
But, just before I left to go back for C school, the command had decided that too many E-3 and below had done multiple tours of mess duty, so the captain decided to make E-4’s do a stint or two of mess duty and UNREP line handling.
Although for some reason the EW’s were placed in charge of setting up the Q-deck and taking it down as we got U/W, (DD-966).
Although I did several tours as mess deck MAA on LHA-1, it was not nearly as bad as doing it on a small ship like FFG-41 where it was a constant hassle just getting the mess cranks up in time to set up and have the mess decks ready for morning chow.
I didn’t get along too well with my fellow EW’s but I “tolerated” their attitude because I was focused on doing 20 years, then retiring, I wasn’t going to allow some petty personality incompatibilities prevent me from realizing my ultimate goals, their obnoxiousness was annoying, but not completely unbearable, but it did give me pause before ever considering extending my tour past 20 years as the Navy at the time was allowing E-6’s to serve past 20 years because they were hurting for Arleigh Burke LPO’s which typically would arrive as an E-6 and almost guaranteed to leave 4 or 5 years later as an E-7, not a chance in my case as I had already unintentionally sullied my name on the selection board when one of the selection board members kicked me off a Continuum team for failing to “fit-in” through no fault of my own, I just ended up being 2 or 3 seconds late in coming up with an idea and not surprising, those who completed the continuum made E-7 in record time, usually 12 or 8 years time.
The path I took in all liklihood saved me from becoming truly large. Cooks are endangered by their profession. Also who knows if I would have still eneded up at that WorldCon in Boston in 2004 where I met my sweetie-wife to be? We can’t get too caught up in ‘might have beens’ and ignore the now. I’m happy with my life as it is, and hell I even think my writing is improving!
You never told me about this. It is really very enlightening to hear it.
People, when they are young and have not done a great deal of cooking (such as a young person at home with mom) do not realize how complex and creative cooking is, be it baking or other parts of the job. Back then, there was no Food Network or Cooking Channel to enlighten us and the offerings on public television, though good (Julia Child, the Galloping Gourmet, etc.) would not have appealed to those of us who had no ability or control over what happened in our own kitchens.
Looking back, it is rather a pity that you didn’t take Chef Philippe up on his offer/suggestion. (I wouldn’t have seen this at the time. We’d been so indoctrinated into the science/technical mindset of life.) Your EW duties have limited creative application and I think there is part of you that needs to be creative in order to be happy.
What would have been different, indeed?