Tazewell (APA 209) - Naval Cruise Book

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xxXXWXXXXXX'gx a NXxxxxxxxX xx' 2 fapnaaavavqwau. 'X-gweepmd Man 04421. Eaaamd 52 I've never been a destructive person, but there is one phonograph record aboard this ship I'd sure like to break. Which one? Why the one that blares out every morning at 0530 without fail. When reveille sounds each and every man must hit the deck immediately. Occasionally some sailor will try to pick up an extra forty winks only to have some big fellow with an important looking badge on his chest whisper gently into his ear, what is your name?,' . A few minutes after reveille a familiar call comes: Sweepers man your brooms, clean sweep down fore and aft, sweep down all decks, and ladders, empty all trash cans. t Around 0600 chow call is heard and 400 sailors rush to be first in the chow line, only to find 1,000 soldiers still waiting for dinner from the day before. Oh well, we weren't hungry anyhow. At five after eight muster is held. Here all the divisions line up and each man's name is called to find out whether any man is still sleeping in the ice box or fell over the fantail during the night. Ar eight fifteen officers have their call,-officers' call,--that's where they call all the officers from their divisions to go back to bed again. Now all the divisions turn to their respective jobs During the morning there is sick call occasional drills pay day and dont forget swecpers who have to man their brooms every hour on thc hour

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For who ever heard of a cat thriving on Navy beans. He watched and waited, for he I1'1L1St soon make a break I H' For daily he was getting weaker From eating New Zealand Steak. At last his chance came, And his freedom he did gain, Though his going we knew would Cause the Crew grievous pain At this point in his dream, he awoke with a start, For there stood a bulldog unleashing loud barks. He was up and away and the hound he did Outrun, And he didn't stop until into San Pedro he had come. Now recalling the dream, he was filled with fright, And he decided then and there That he was through with the T and the fight. ln those war-torn days, he was a diversion and fun, But now the war was over and his job was done. He would settle down and Hnd a home, And never more at sea would he roam. There are some that may think him a coward, and so Taunt him with jibes wherever he may go, But the crew of the T for his honor will fight, .For his valor he proved during Okinawa's stormy nights To end this sad tale, it is just about time, So hereis the final effort and I hope it will rhyme. Now Come those dark nights, on all Seven Seas, Or wherever sailors meet to shoot the breeze, Theres one tale that theyill never fail to tell, And that is about Shotgun , AWOL. -by EzZum'afA Flynn 5 'VC 53 QxXXXXXXxyx XXXXXXXXXXX 'Sb Mxxxxxxv xx'-Xxxxxxx

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xqgtxxxxxxxxxx xxxxyxyyyuxy ,Q X'- s' XXxxxxXXXxxx XXxxxXxxKX Si At eleven o'clock all work is knocked off for chow. We have two hours before getting back to work, so the chances are fifty-fifty for getting something to eat. Any time left over after chow and before one o'clock is strictly free- time. However, I still haven't learned to shower and shave in that five minutes. One o'clock is time for all hands to turn to again. At two o'c1ock it is time for Army sick-call. Army sick-call is merely a continuation of the chow line, in fact, it is estimated that more soldiers come to sick-call per day than eat chow. It's a funny thing, but the soldiers still think that the black and white we give them is a drink of scotch. Of course the call for sweepers is still heard very regularly. At four-thirty all work is knocked off and evening chow begins. At five- thirty the last call for sweepers is heard. One of these days, some ignorant sailor will actually have a broom in hand and all the hoarse boatswains will feel that their work was not in vain. When we're in port we have movies, topside. In order to see the movie one must do several things. First, you must miss chow in order to get a seat, secondly you have to endure a cramped position for several hours, and thirdly you have to be willing to get wet, as it rains every night in port at seven-thirty. The last movie was pretty good, the fellows told me, after it was over. Personal- ly all I could see was two cooties playing bean bag on a soldier's head in front of me. With the blowing of taps we take leave of the boys on the 209, each sailor tucked snuggly in bed, filled with anticipation, and longing for the start of a new day cramed with something new and something different-- sweepers man your brooms. -by Gilbert Momlmclv. Hfllfc. 55