PB20 Crazy Charlie, Part 2

Recently several of my students have urged me to run for political office. But before I throw my hat into the ring, I want to give it some careful consideration. I am well aware that every aspect of my personal and professional life will be subjected to relentless scrutiny. In looking back over the years, I was struck by what a remarkably clean life I have led. There is only one part of my past that I regret and really can’t explain. I was once a volunteer for an environmentalist lobbying group. I think it is wise to get my story out there before it becomes fodder for the tabloids. While I don’t remember how I got involved, I do remember why I dropped my association with the group forever.

We were on a deployment to the Mediterranean aboard U.S.S. Dwight D. Eisenhower (Ike). We were approaching Majorca, one of the Balearic Islands off the coast of Spain, for some well-earned liberty. I was sitting in my office drinking coffee, the supply officer’s station for “sea and anchor detail”. (Supply officers generally don’t get too involved in actual ship handling evolutions.) As I looked up at the close circuit TV monitoring our approach to port, the view switched to another ship approaching at a high rate of speed from the starboard quarter. It was called the Sea Grass or something like that, a ship operated by the environmentalist group to which I belonged. Originally a group that had championed saving whales, it had branched out into condemning the U.S. government for utilizing nuclear power. Ike was nuclear powered. The Sea Grass was intent on launching Zodiac boats loaded with red paint, and attacking our ship. The idea was to video tape the marking of our ship with red paint to simulate blood and give the video to local TV stations. What the Sea Grass hadn’t counted on was Crazy Charlie, Ike’s new overzealous, unrestrained, totally dedicated weapons officer.

Suddenly the Captain’s voice was heard on the ship’s loud speaker system; “Motor Vessel Sea Grass, you are approaching a United States warship. Change course now!” The Sea Grass kept coming. Next we heard, “Repel boarders, repel boarders”. I broke out in a cold sweat when I saw the motley members of Charlie’s newly recruited security force man the 50 caliber machine guns which suddenly sprouted around the ship. (When the call came to “Repel Boarders”, those sailors designated for the security force donned flak jackets, pulled the machine guns out of the lockers, and prepared to defeat the enemy.) There was no doubt in my military mind that the blood of a bunch of misguided, but basically decent environmentalists, for whom I had recently collected donations, was about to be shed. A 50 cal is a devastating weapon capable of shredding any substance made by man other than tank armor. The thin skin of the Sea Grass would provide no protection whatsoever. Oblivious of its imminent demise, it continued to approach. I could clearly see two Zodiac boats lowered into the water with cans of red paint. There was a person on the bridge of the Sea Grass filming the action with one of those big old video cameras. The Zodiacs headed straight for us.

Just when I thought the shooting was about to commence, the security force dropped the 50 cals and took up charged 2 ½ inch fire hoses. The stream from the hoses swamped the Zodiacs and knocked the paint into the water along with the video camera held by the hapless tree (whale?) hugger. Next the water stream was directed down the stack of the Sea Grass. The peace now crowd withdrew in defeat. Later the Spanish government impounded the Sea Grass for the duration of our visit in Spanish waters.

At that moment I changed my mind about the environmentalist movement and Crazy Charlie. He was no longer Crazy Charlie; just Charlie. Not only was he not crazy, he was one of the shrewdest individuals I ever met. I wonder where he is now. Charlie is probably the one who should run for office. You know I’m right.