EN2 Thomas Phipps

Phipps here again. (74-76) We were approaching the equator heading toward Africa, and us pollywogs were becomming a bit apprehensive. But not so apprehensive not to pass up on an unsuspecting shellback. A few HTs and BTs caught HT1 Hawes in the machine shop, and overpowered him. O.K., there may have been a few MMs, ENs, and a couple of BMFs there too. Anyway, his pants wound up down by accident and his ass got accidently packed with grease. I personally didn’t do the packing, but I laughed like hell and was pleased that the real world couldn’t witness this sort of thing.


When we actually crossed the equator, I crawled with the other wogs and took my beating. Butt stinging, eyes full of tabasco sauce, I could just make out the form of Hawes, in his pirate rags, with a big can of graphite grease. “I’m not going to pack your ass. You’re going to pack your own ass.” Never mind, I guess you had to be there.