One, No Two Pork Chops! Stylish Glasses; Dogs Behind Bars; Repairs; “Taps, Taps, Lights Out!”

To bed Sunday night at 2330 (11:30 PM for you landlubbers) after a long day driving and a time change. The alarm was supposed to go off this morning at 0500 (5:00 AM), but I had already been up for 45 minutes and was on my second cup of coffee when the clock ticked over. Going fishing, you say? Nay, nay! Getting up before the roosters to be first in line for space available repair work at the American Coach Division of Fleetwood, Inc., the manufacturer of The Bus, our 40 foot American Eagle. I was indeed first in line at 0515, and was quietly waiting for those with reservations to finish checking in around 0610 when I heard, “Ty? Ty Giesemann?” I looked up to see an old friend, Gary Averett, another retired Navy Captain. We met in 1980 while serving together with fellow NWC student Major Ollie North, USMC, at The Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island. Gary’s lovely wife Lynn Simon is here as well; she is also a retired Navy Captain. Both of them served as Supply Corps officers, or “Pork Chops”, as they are referred to in the Navy. That appellation refers to the Supply Corps insignia, an oak leaf which looks remarkably similar, at least to ship-drivers like yours truly, to a pork chop. 

We agreed to meet for dinner, and then I was called up to fill in the required forms for repairs. Topping the list was an inoperative dash air conditioner fan, a small leak in our hydraulic jacks, and an inoperative co-pilot’s chair. It was 0615, and I was told that I would be called when a repair tech was available. I had just dozed off back in the coach when the tech said he was on the way over. After repositioning in an enormous service bay with many other “big rigs”, the tech got to work. 

We were informed that we had to wear safety glasses on the shop floor; My Lovely Bride jokingly asked for “a stylish pair, please”. Here she is modeling a very stylish, patriotic pair of red, white, and blue safety glasses.

By lunch, our technician Rick had solved the air conditioner problem (a corroded pin connector in a “cannon plug”) and tested the hydraulic jacks (no leaks this time, and the whole system looked fine). Our puppies had to remain in their kennels for Rick’s safety. Technicians have been bitten, perhaps even killed and eaten alive, by dogs smaller and far less ferocious than our miniature dachshunds, so we were taking no chances. Rudy and Gretchen actually like their kennels; they feel very secure there, and when we say, “Let’s get in your houses”, they walk in and lie down immediately. 

After lunch we fixed the shower door handle, but repairs to the co-pilot’s chair are awaiting completion in the morning. So what’s to do except have a glass of wine and pizza with friends. We swapped sea stories (some with storms in the middle) and some land stories with unbelievable personalities to laugh about. It’s nice to catch up with Navy friends for a change; when you retire from the Navy, it seems that everyone goes in different directions to old or new homes, and you rarely see people with whom you’ve forged a solid bond over months or years at sea, overseas, or in remote locations. Gary and Lynn will be headed to the East Coast soon, then back to Tucson. We hope to catch up with them again next year. 

We are now settled in a parking lot outside the repair facility with about 20 other motor coaches. Tomorrow is another repair day, so early reveille again..... If I was back aboard ship, I’d be hearing the Boatswain’s Mate of the Watch piping Taps and announcing, “Now, Taps, Taps, lights out; all hands turn into your bunks. Now, Taps”.