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So, not only being a professional working person, she was also used to making those quick, life saving decisions like we submariners are trained to make. She was also a registered nurse and worked in the old Charleston County Hospital emergency room. I was getting used to this little girl as we seemed to be a fairly good match and she was intelligent, much unlike the girls I had been dating. Looking back, I could see that this was all part of a plan. Despite being a gentleman, the lecherous old submarine sailor in my head always noticed things like that.Īfter the picnic disbanded, we agreed to meet up at John John’s house where we had a few drinks, did a little bit of slow dancing, and had several more drinks. and really very pretty, but the first two things I noticed about her was one, she had a terrific smile. Unknowingly, She had parked her little Honda right behind my Mustang. There would be no “stealthy” escape and that’s when Mary introduced me to Gwen. After completing my second strike out to the jeers of my shipmates, I looked over and saw someone had parked their car almost directly behind mine. I did that quite often with my cousin who was stationed on another submarine, often leaving him with someone I had just dumped. On the day of the picnic, I arrived kind of early to pick a spot that would provide for a stealthy escape should the blind date not look especially appealing. The Von Steuben was having a family picnic in the base picnic area that weekend with the obligatory baseball game in the plan and we agreed that I could meet her there. “Sure”, I said, from her description, I thought well, she don’t sound too bad, why not just give it a shot. Mary was a nurse at the old Charleston County hospital and had a friend that she wanted to introduce me to. Then, one day, one of my shipmates, we called him John John, invited me over to his house for dinner and I got to meet his wife Mary. I was having such a great time that the wives of some of my married friends commenced a covert campaign to find me a “suitable” mate. Most of the women, or girls, I was dating then were real losers, some had psychological problems, some were just unemployed, but I was still having a great time, partying with my buddies and patronizing the local night spots. I got cursed out in the base exchange in front of several navy wives and their kids by another girl I had dated, a young Filipino sailor.

Turned out, there was a car almost similar to mine that she had seen parked in front of another girl’s house and she thought she’d get revenge. That didn’t make sense since I knew my car was safely parked in the barracks parking lot right here on the base. “Well, I hope you like your new paint job”. “How do you like what I did to your car?”, she said. I was in the barracks one weekend when I got a phone call from a young lady I had cut off relations with. When I took it into the local Ford dealership here in Charleston, the salespeople all went goo goo eyes over it. Rare because I ordered it with every possible option during a trip back to Detroit. I had a rare edition of the Ford Mustang. Other than that, when you didn’t want the hassle of explaining to a mad female why you hadn’t called her in a week, you simply didn’t answer the one public phone and you knew she couldn’t get into the barracks to confront you. One major drawback was having to pack up all your personal effects in boxes and store them in the barracks storeroom for the three months that you were deployed. One major benefit was that it was rent free. Living in the barracks had benefits and drawbacks. Needless to say, I was one happy go lucky bubblehead. There were trips home during the off crew periods, even a trip to Paradise Island in the Bahamas and a week at the Playboy club in Jamaica. My clothing budget was more than some sailors entire paychecks. I bought a new car every two years, even traded a car in because it had two flat tires. My financial resources allowed me to live a lifestyle that many hardworking guys would probably envy. At the time, I was probably the oldest and most senior guy living in the enlisted barracks, but also probably the wealthiest, drawing my regular base pay along with submarine pay, sea pay and Basic Allowance for Quarters. Back in 1977, I was a single young E6 in the navy, stationed on board the USS Von Steuben, a ballistic missile submarine home ported in Charleston, South Carolina.