In 1957 I was an electronics technician in the Navy on a little destroyer that was home ported in Boston. A change in my life came about one day when the ship’s executive officer asked me to help him audit our ships store. The little ships store sold things like cigarettes and sundries. All sales were cash but now there was no cash. It was a clear case of stealing and we caught the malefactor.

I was made auditor of this little store. Its profits would go to the ship’s welfare and recreation fund. In no time at all the little store was reporting good profits. I collected the cash and deposited it in the ships safe.

Now, let me introduce Petty Officer 2nd class, Cloe, to my story. Cloe is from Michigan. Cloe was nearly always fighting with his Michigan wife. But each time they made up he would need grocery money. Did I mention he was a drinker? “It’s not for me he would say, it’s for my three hungry little girls.” He was so known for his borrowing ways that guys would almost jump overboard to avoid him.

The rule was I could remit a check to a crew member in need for no more than $75 dollars per event. Of course, Cloe knew this. I asked him once why he was in such need all the time. “It’s my wife’s fault,” he would say. “I go to the expense to get her moved home and by the time I get her trailer all set up next door to her mama she wants to move back so I have to move her back. Then she gets mad at me ’cause I’m broke and she calls her mama who tells her to move back— which she does.” So, he said as I wrote yet another $75.00 check.

His wife showed up at the ship once when Cloe was mysteriously missing. “My babies are starving and they’re going to turn off the ‘lectric if I don’t pay the bill. I loaded her up in my car and we went to the supermarket and bought a bunch of groceries. I couldn’t give her money right then so I paid with my own check. Never got that back. In spite of this, she caught the bus back to Michigan the next week. Eventually she came back but phoned that she was broke, out of food and the babies were crying. I wrote the $75.00 check to Cloe and since I had the duty I couldn’t take Cloe home. He borrowed my pristine 1951 Olds 88 hardtop convertible.

I was worried sick about my Oldsmobile. The next morning, I went topside to look in our parking lot for my car. It wasn’t there. I woke up Cloe. Wasn’t easy as he was still drunk. He had blown 75 bucks on booze and misplaced my car. I presumed the three little girls were still hungry. I then borrowed a car from a shipmate and spent a tiring day driving from honkytonk to honkytonk searching in vain for my car. Going by his trailer I was ill treated by his wife, as she said (unsurprisingly) that she was going home to Michigan as soon as possible.

Later I reported my long-lost Oldsmobile stolen to my insurance company and to the Boston pPolice. And then it was time for us to go to Barranquilla, Columbia for two weeks. All I could think about was my precious missing car. When we got back, I called the police and they said they hadn’t seen it (naturally) Then Cloe brightened. “I think I know where it is. I remember going to Izzy Orts, a big and famous bar and burlesque house in downtown Boston.” We went down there and the third bartender I asked said it was in the employee’s parking lot. It was. Sitting there with the windows down and keys in the ignition, it had made a handy roosting place for the seagulls. I finally had to tell Cloe I forgave him. He was emotional and hugged me and said, “I’ve good news from home too. My wife’s taking me back.” I took that news pretty good as I had resigned as “Ships Welfare and Recreation Officer.”

Our executive officer soon transferred Cloe to a new duty station. Life was better. Have a good week and don’t forget to go to your church this Sunday but if you see Cloe, tell him you haven’t seen me.

Wayne Bullard, DPh

cwaynebullard@gmail.com