The Discharge

“Gordon! What’re you doing?”

“Fixing the detector from the ‘29 radar, be through in a minute chief.”

“Okay. See me in commander Bethki’s office, 15 minutes.”

“Aye, aye!”

I only had 2 months left in the navy and this did not feel ‘Good.” I wondered . . what do they want . . It turned out to be the best it could be.

“ET first class Gordon, sir.”

“Sit down Gordon. Your time is running out, have you ever been an SP?”

“No sir, no shore patrol, but my clearance got me into messenger service at TI with secret stuff when I was transferred here, sir.”

“What would you say to spending the rest of your ship time as Master At Arms on the mess-decks? We have to provide 2 mess-deck hands or 1 MA and these new kids need the experience. What do you say?”

“Thank you sir. You want me to turn everything over to Kyle and move to the mess-deck MA spot? I’d move to the transfer station from there?”

“Exactly. You’ve taught Kyle well, he’ll do fine. You can leave it in our hands.”

“Oh, yes, sir, I didn’t mean...”

“It’s okay. Do you want too?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Okay then report to chief Clifton Friday morning. Thank you, Gordon. Good luck, you’ve been good here. We’ll miss you—for a few minutes.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s kind of like what I felt leaving home to join. I’ll be fine, at least it’ll be different.”

“Thanks, chief. I’ve liked our gang. Maybe I’ll miss you guys for a few minutes too.”

Walking out the gate with all my possessions in my sea bag I did stop and look back when the gate shut behind me: it did feel like the first time I left home.