My Prophetic Experience with God in the Navy!
 

My name is Tony Ellsworth.  I have lots to say and quite a life story but this is simply about my time in the Navy and what I feel very strongly that God said to me during this time.  

Even so, I will give a little background.  My parents divorced when I was 17, just before I went into the Navy.  I enlisted under a unique opportunity called the Navy Sea College Program.  This program was 2 years active duty, provided basic seamanship, but no special military schools and had a large funding booster in addition to the normal GI bill for college.  I was very independent (hard headed) as an oldest child and wanted to pay for my own schooling.  Congress had cancelled the Navy Sea College Program and there were few seats remaining.  They required a certain score on the ASVAB test which is the Military’s version of the SAT sort of.  I obtained one of the last seats and I had to wait 6 months before my official enlistment began.

My dad had put our home up for sale during the divorce process and my sister and I were living with my Dad at my Grandparents (his parents).  My Grandparents lived at a beautiful place outside the city of Omaha called Ginger Cove.  It was a lakeside home with a sand beach and the lake was all sand based and very clean.  I had always loved to come visit my Grandparents.  However, at this time I was very broken, bitter and about as rebellious as a teenager could be.

I was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness (JW) by my mom, and this was a big part of the divorce.  My dad never really did conform or believe the way they did.  I had been “dis-fellowshipped” from the JW’s at 16 for smoking.  I had really wanted to play football and take part in athletics and other school activities, but the JW’s did not allow this.  When my mother and father had a disagreement about this I was ultimately pulled out of all my activities at school and thus isolated from all my former friends.  I don’t agree with the JW’s theology; however my testimony is that I had rebellion in my heart and am accountable to God for that.

I was a “late bloomer” when it came to dating and had just really met what was my first steady girlfriend – her name is Stacy.  Her family was very down-to-earth, warm and friendly and became a surrogate family.  During my 6 month wait for the Navy I spent most of my time with her and her family.  At the same time, I was working at the business my grandfather owned, Briggs Inc.  (plumbing wholesaler) I worked in the packing and shipping department.  My grandparents felt it would be good to occupy me (oh how wise they are!) and have me be productive and learn about the real world.  I rode into work much of these months leading up to the Navy with my grandfather.  It really was good for our relationship together.  Since he is now passed away, I wish I would have valued this time more.

The important thing that happened during these six months is that he, as the owner, retired from his business – Briggs Inc.  The new President of the company asked my grandmother if there was anything that they could do for Jack (my grandfather).  My grandmother suggested that Jack had lost a family ring earlier in his life.  It was a very unique gold ring with a very special family crest engraved into it.  His brother had the only copy left.  They arranged to have it shipped (his brother was a Judge and lived in Illinois) and paid a good price to Borshiem’s (Warren Buffet’s company) to have it replicated.  After this was done, the time had come for the celebration in his honor.  Here is the part I’d rather not even mention about myself.  My grandmother was all ready for all of our family to go to this event.  I refused to go, even though she forcefully pleaded with me (I know how could I?).  I instead was going to go to my girlfriend’s basketball game which I could not miss.  I also hate to leave you in suspense, but this part of the story doesn’t pick up again until I finish with my story regarding my actual time in the Navy.  Needless to say, what a rebellious child I had become.

My story gets worse.  Since being kicked out of the JW’s I had picked up not only smoking, but also drinking.  I grew up in a small town and my grandparents lived outside of a small town.  I managed to get no less than three MIP’s (minor in possession of alcohol) before I went into the Navy.  Officially, this disqualified me from my program.  When my recruiter became aware of this he was very unhappy.  Before I began my enlistment in the Navy I had to go and see the Captain in Omaha regarding my record.  I did go before the Captain and explained my circumstances.  To be honest, I don’t remember what I said.  I’m sure I had plenty of anxiety in talking with him and wondering what was to become of me.  He gave me a complete “pardon” and I was still eligible for the Navy Sea College Program.  As my enlistment of March 1, 1988 approached even tried to call my recruiter and tell him I wanted out of my enlistment.  My girlfriend Stacy did agree to stay with me instead of parting ways.  This along with everything else God was putting together finally got me off for the Navy in March.

I left for boot camp by taking a plane with a small number of other enlistees from Omaha to Chicago, O’Hare Airport.  As I mentioned earlier, I had a good score on the military exam called the ASVAB and this put me in “charge” of the few persons going to NAVY boot camp from Omaha.  We mostly just sat together and got to know each other.  In Chicago we somehow (don’t recall) got to a military bus.  We joined with other recruits from across the country.  I think everyone had quite a bit of anxiety.  We arrived, by design, in boot camp under cover of night.  I really had no idea where I was at.  They brought us to a bunk room and we stayed the night (somewhat) there.  At 4 a.m. a “Drill Sergeant” (the NAVY doesn’t have Sergeant’s, but you get the point) woke us all up and boot camp officially began.  It was everything you saw in the movies and more – beating trash cans, name calling – the whole 9 yards.

Boot camp was quite a shock.  For purposes of this story, just suffice it to say that it was not only physically challenging, but even more so emotionally and mentally difficult.  This no doubt is by design as well.  There were two enlisted me in charge of our group.  One was in charge and he was a Chief Petty Officer. He was slender, intelligent and wore glasses.  It was boot camp so expectations were high and he was strict and knew how to yell, but I could identify with him somewhat.  The other man was a First Class Petty Officer.  He was what you would picture as the perfect “brute Drill Sergeant”.  He wasn’t the one who work us up at 4 a.m. our first night, so the military surely is doing well churning out characters like this.  After we had completed some of the basics in camp the Chief called out some names and pulled us into a separate room for a meeting outside of the normal barracks.  He was letting us know that he was handing out various positions and assignments.  I merited a position simply because of my ASVAB (military testing) score.  I was only signed up for 2 years active duty due to my special “Navy Sea College” program, so while the program was exceptional for providing funds for college it did not lend itself to qualifications or any advanced schooling in the Navy.  The Chief gave me the position of flag bearer.  There were two men within our group which were in charge.  One being the top man, and the second in command.  This is similar to how a ship would have a Captain and an XO (Executive Officer) – 1st and 2nd in command.  The next tier was the flag bearers, of which I was now a part.  The rest of our group would carry a rifle.  As we would soon find out, the rifle carriers had much work to do to learn all the various positions of which they carry a rifle while marching, parading, etc.

There was daily, hourly and even by minute challenges in boot camp.  It was draining in every way.  There were many physical tests, mental tests, it was very emotionally difficult and took every amount of perseverance a person may have to make it through.  For purposes of this story I’ll just take you to the relevant part.  We were only a little more than a week out from our graduation.  My family, girlfriend, etc. were all coming to see me and I had written to tell them about my position as a flag bearer and was very much anticipating the day that would be coming soon.    On weekends the Chief and the First Class Petty Officer (FCPO) would take turns so they could have some time off.  There was a Saturday when the Chief was not on duty.  The FCPO took us out to the courtyard by our barracks for some marching practice.  There was a drum-beat that we were to march to.  For each beat we were to take a “normal” sized step forward and end up perfectly in line with everyone else.  What seems to be so simple was very hard to do.  Everyone was nervous and for whatever reason the inclination was to take 3 normal steps and on the fourth beat take one giant-sized step forward.  After we had done this without success a couple of times the FCPO was furious.  He stood on a balcony quite a bit above us shouting at us.  He gave us one last try and threatened to demote anyone not meeting up with his standard.  I had many thoughts going through my head and was very fearful.  I do a pretty good job under pressure with this sort of thing.  Some of the guys next to me I was not so sure about.  It seemed that even when the FCPO would yell at us to take 4 normal steps to the drum-beat and not to take a large step they would still do it.  So, in my head I had to decide, “should I do it as I am ordered – a normal sized step, or should I try and match the guy next to me who seems to be taking an extra long step as his last step?”  I decided I must do as ordered and not to play guessing games.  Well here the drum beat one-two-three…and four times.  The man next to me was half an inch ahead of me.  Now it was up to the judgment of the FCPO as to who was wrong and what would happen.  He came of the balcony on down to the courtyard.  He inspected our feet and the alignment.  When he was done he determined that I was the one out of order.  He demoted me and took my flag bearing position away from me.  He yelled at me and humiliated me in front of the group.  He then took my flag away and handed me a rifle.  This was no temporary demotion, but very serious and very permanent.  I didn’t even have time to gather myself.  He told me to hold the rifle over my head.  A rifle is fairly heavy.  It’s made of wood and metal and my guess is that it’s about 15-20 pounds.  Once I held it over my head he ordered me to run around the perimeter of the court yard.  I began running at his order.  Even at a few times around my arms began to tremble.  Soon the weight of the wooden gun began to push me to the ground.  My arms shook, my legs shook.  And then it got much worse.  My belt began to undo itself and with all the physical activity that goes on in boot camp you loose weight so you need a belt to keep your pants up.  In “normal” life you would be able to stop and tighten your belt, but not if you are in military boot camp under a “Drill Sergeant” who has an axe to grind against college brats who showed up under your charge for boot camp.  Plus, we had been conditioned to know that you were here to be completely humiliated – I certainly was not the first.  They couldn’t physically touch you, but they could physically “mash” (that’s what they called it) you into the ground.  I ran until my pants were around my ankles, and my legs and arms gave out.  I skidded head first to the pavement.  Finally I was done with that part of the punishment.  Now, I only had a week until graduation and I was weeks behind and had no idea how to handle a rifle.  The FCPO had not only humiliated me, but also set me up for failure.  It seemed certain that I would not graduate and would be pushed back.  Most men who got pushed back had a hard time even making it at all.  Some of these men were going home as “suicide attempts” or some would even say they were “gay” or go see a “Psychiatrist”.  I’m not sure all what they did, but about anything they could to get out I’m sure.  Many succeeded.  Many, you never knew what happened to them.  My prospects seemed bleak and that was without even thinking of letting everyone at home down.

I began to stay up at night and practice what I needed to with my rifle.  As it was we were not getting much sleep.  On top of this, it was not allowed for me or the watch person to be up doing anything after “lights out”.  I was desperate, and willing to take a risk.  I stayed up at night and would plead my case to the watchman as much as I could.  I asked for pointers and tips.  I worked as hard as I could at all the various techniques with the rifle.  Finally, I had done it.  I’m not sure that I was great, but I was more than adequate.  I would not graduate as a Flag Bearer, but not even the FCPO could take the graduation away from me.  My family did show up and see me.  They had a hard time finding me since they expected from my letters that I would be at the front as a flag bearer.  What is great is they all loved me the same.  No one was disappointed in me.  They let me tell my story and were very proud of me.  They were simply happy to see me.  What a relief to have boot camp behind me.

After a few week of basic Seamanship school (called ATD) I was able to go home on a much anticipated 12 day leave.  Being home was great, but 12 days go quickly.  Right at the end of the stay my Mom called me to visit her.  As I had mentioned to you earlier, my Mom and Dad were divorced right before I got into the Navy.  I also mentioned that I was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness (JW), of which my Mom and two younger sisters were still a part.  I went to go visit my Mom anticipating that she would like to see me while I was home and give me some sort of send off.  When I got to my Mom’s she was rather cold and we sat down on her couch in her apartment.  She pulled out a Bible and proceeded to read me some scriptures that the JW’s used to support their beliefs specifically in regard to my being disfellowshipped from them.  Needless to say, I didn’t take this to well.  My Mom and I both had our parts to play in this mess.  I was still ready to rebel at a moments notice and my Mom had her background that was passed on to her from her Mom.  I wanted to tell her what I thought of the divorce and she wanted to tell me about my rebellion.  She let me know that I was being cut off in my relationship with her and she walked me to the door.  I hugged my sisters goodbye not knowing when I would see them again.  My Mom shut the door on me and I collapsed in a heap of tears on her doorstep.  Not something a young man would want to do.  It simply happened I had no strength.  When I built up enough strength to leave I drove straight to my Grandpa’s house, which was her dad’s.  I cried, told him what happened and buried my head in his chest.  He was always so good at just being there and loving me.  Despite any of his flaws I deeply loved him as my Grandfather.

After my short stay I was off to see where my orders would take me.  I flew to San Diego.  During your early stay in the Military, you are referred to as a “boot” short for boot camp.  Even after you have been in for a short while, yes you are still a boot.  As a “boot” when you first get your orders you ask anyone and everyone what they might mean.  Mine had orders to San Diego, CA to report to the USS Fort McHenry LSD-43.  I had no idea what this meant.  When I asked someone they told me that I was lucky and since my order mentioned a “Fort” that I must be land based.  This seemed to match up with what my recruiter told me about my special program, the Navy “Sea College” program, which was only for a two year enlistment.  He told me that since my enlistment was so short I likely would not see much time out to sea.  In San Diego when I picked up my luggage and Sea Bag (contains all your military uniforms, etc.) I was met by two men in white uniforms.  I then lugged my stuff and followed them out to the van they picked me up in.  While I was in the van one of the men said to me:

“…know where your going?”, my answer was “no”,

“…overseas for six months on WestPac”, he said

“no I’m not”, I said believing they were pulling one over on the new guy.  He reassured me that he was telling me the truth, but he dropped it quickly figuring I would soon find out that in fact he was telling me the truth.

I arrived at the Navy base and then the docks, where many ships were moored.  The whole sight was quite overwhelming for me.  I had never seen any ships before or even the ocean.  It was dark night and I carried my bags out of the van with me and followed the men in white.  The ladder up to the ship (steps and stairs in the Navy are called ladders) was made of aluminum.  It seemed to go quite a ways up.  At the top was a landing where they checked identification and the flag was saluted.  My knees were shaking and my body could barely carry the burden of my bags as I carried them up.  The men turned me over to some other men, telling them who I was.  They took me to the “Deck Department”, which was where you went when you were basically not qualified by naval schools for anything else.  The Navy Sea College Program I was in was great for college money once I was finished with my enlistment, but it left me at a huge disadvantage and no qualifications while I was still in the middle of my enlistment.  Off I went and into the quarters with about thirty other men.  We slept in “racks” which were three high built in bunk beds sort of.  As I lay in bed I wondered where I was and what I had gotten myself into.

The next morning I awoke early with everyone else.  Now I truly was the new guy, and meeting many new persons who I’d be spending all my time with.  One of the morning rituals was called “Quarters” which we all reported to at 7 a.m. sharp on the flight deck of the ship.  I was on a rather new and also large ship.  It was not as big as an Aircraft Carrier, which is almost a city at sea.  I was on an Amphibious ship, The USS Fort McHenry LSD-43 (Landing Ship Dock).  It was designed to carry and then launch by other smaller boats aboard called LCAC’s (Landing Craft Air Cushion) Marines, tanks, cannons, and other heavy equipment ashore in a time of war.  I stood at attention during Quarters and listened to what the man in charge of our group had to say.  He was a Chief and they wore a khaki uniform, similar to the officers.  When Quarters was done, he had some mercy on me and let me go quickly ashore to the dock and make a last phone call home before we departed for six months (just as the men in white had told me) for West Pac.  I went ashore, and I first called my girlfriend and there was no answer.  I then called my father.  He answered and I told him that I was going overseas for six months to various foreign countries and ports.  There was dead silence on the other end of the phone.  I left the phone after saying good-bye.  I really felt all alone.  It was a very fearful feeling.

After the first days I got used to some of the routine.  I got stuck with some tough duty.  Cleaning bathrooms and moping floors.  I really fell into a deep depression.  We had been out to sea for a couple of weeks.  All I had to think about was my mom rejecting me and my dad’s silence.  I was all alone and I didn’t want to be stuck out in the middle of the ocean.  I began thinking of a way out.  In the Navy we got paid in cash.  I began to think of a plan that when we hit port in the Philippines I would take my cash and find some sort of airport and fly back home, not thinking one bit of the consequences.  God carried me through this and when we did get to the Philippines I did give many calls home from the Naval base there and it really calmed me down.  We began to get letters and I wrote some as well.

As I got to know guys in my group I found that there were other Sea College guys.  A few of them worked in what was called the PMS locker (Preventative Maintenance Systems – the Navy doesn’t care what the rest of the world uses PMS to stand for).  The PMS locker was a far better place to work than in the normal Deck Department chores.  They were independent in their work, doing such things as fire station maintenance, CO2 bottles, and other ship equipment.  There was responsibility and accountability involved in this group.  Ultimately the Chief had assigned some Sea College guys there because as a whole they were more responsible than some of the other guys in Deck (not always though there were Sea College guys who got kicked out of the Navy and I had some very close shipmates who never heard of the Navy Sea College Program).  I got assigned to the PMS locker by the Chief.  It really was a blessing and far better than not finding out what your daily assignment was until you work up the morning and wondering if you would be cleaning bathrooms or hanging over the side of the ship in a safety harness chipping paint.  I did this duty for nearly the whole first year of my enlistment.

Working in the PMS locker gave me a great chance to learn from guys who were in the same program I was in.  At least I had someone who I could identify with.  They were not in the Navy for a career and were doing it for the college money as well.  We all were in the same “boat” (pardon the pun).  We spent a lot of time talking about how much time we had left and our future plans for college and beyond.  They all had significantly less time than me, since I had just gotten in.  What was still very hard (other than being away from home and all the turmoil in my life) was the watches we had to stand.  We were on four section watch.  This meant you stood watch at appointed times which rotated between the groups every four days.  I don’t remember all the times for the watches.  One way daytime, one was evening and the ones I’ll never forget were at night.  One was the 10 p.m. – 2 a.m. watch and the next night you would stand the 2 a.m. – 7 a.m. watch.  Those two nights were back-breakers.  The Navy does not let you sleep in to catch up before or after those watches.  Also, the penalty for falling asleep on watch was Capitan’s Mast, which meant you would lose pay, rank, vacation (leave is the Navy term) and probably some Brig (Navy jail) time.  There were many positions on watch.  One was driving the ship, one was controlling the speed of the ship, and there were various other watches with binoculars where you would check the ocean and the air.  All the positions reported to and followed the specific orders of the Officer of the Deck.  The “Bridge” was where all of this took place.  It was the highest part of the ship, was where it was steered, and ultimately all controlled.  The Captain’s Quarters were very close by and on this same high level as well.  He was very close to the Bridge in case anything would come up at all.  Ultimately he is in charge and responsible for the ship in every way.  I normally am a light sleeper and have trouble going to sleep with insomnia coming to me often.  This changed in the Navy as persons standing watch in this rotation are severely sleep deprived.  No one is left with insomnia.  Kind of like people in starving poor conditions of third world countries have no over-eating disorders.  I would soon see some of these conditions for myself – quite an education for someone from the United States to see.

After many months of hard waiting we finally headed back home.  Six months did not fly by in any way, shape or form.  It was grueling and probably the longest six months of my life up to this point.  I was able to go home for leave after we got back and enjoyed my time in Nebraska.  By this time the Navy might not be fun, but I had been able to acclimate myself pretty well. Then the next set of circumstances came up (doesn’t it always in life).  One of the other duties that needed to be done was called “Mess Cranking”.  Where some of these terms come, I have no idea.  The Navy had certain designations, which are professionals in various positions.  There are Quartermasters, which chart the ship’s course, there are engineers and there are persons who cook and serve the food to the whole crew.  This staff needs help in cleaning, serving preparing and all the menial tasks that need to be done to accomplish meals.  Various enlisted personnel are called on a rotating basis to serve this duty.  I can’t remember, but I think it about 3 months or so.  Deck Department is a favorite place to pull persons for this duty.  Deck is less specialized than other areas and basically no one in Deck has any Navy schooling that would be going to waste in someone performing these duties.  In Deck, the Chief sent the number of persons he was required for this duty.  Although it wasn’t fair, many persons in deck had gone more than one time for “Mess Cranking” and I had not gone yet at all.  There were some trouble makers who made the list regularly and it helped serve as a mild form of discipline.  Everyone liked this since they didn’t have to go.  It was kind of an unwritten rule that guys working in the PMS locker didn’t have to go Mess Cranking.  The Chief was accountable to Officers of the ship for the groups performance and much of the work done was spot checked and important to keep functionality of all the various equipment.  So for many political and practical reasons no one really went Mess Cranking from the PMS group.  That all changed somehow.  Someone, came up with a new rule that everyone had to go at least once (it is fair after all).  Maybe someone just wanted to be fair, maybe the cooks complained (why do we always get the trouble makers), anyway it changed.  I was notified that it was my turn to go.  This seemed horrible.  Just as I was getting adjusted and finding a place, I had to start all over again, and go back to doing these menial tasks.  Later I would realize that all things happen for a reason.

I started out on the enlisted mess hall.  It didn’t last long and I was called to serve in the Officer’s mess hall.  It took a few days and I got used to the routine.  There was a Pilipino man that was taking care of the Captain and XO (2nd in command, Executive Officer).  I learned from him, and how to care for the Captain and XO.  Soon, he was done with his “mess cranking” time.  It was time for me to take over.  I served the Captain his meals.  What I remember about the specifics is that he liked two glasses of water with lemons in them.  We really had to cater to the likes, needs and wants of the officers, but the Captain was the most important of all.  The Captain liked his thermos filled with hot coffee each day waiting for him in the morning.  When we were in shore (not out to sea) I had to wait to fill his thermos until I heard him announced as just having come aboard the ship.  I would then pour his coffee into his thermos and take it to his desk in his Quarters.  I cleaned his and the XO’s Quarters and the passageways going to their rooms.  I buffed and waxed the hallways until there was no spot and you could see your reflection in it.  This was hard work, but I did appreciate the opportunity for the responsibility to take care of the Captain.

Towards the end of my three months in taking care of the Captain, a newsworthy event happened that ended up involving our ship.  The Exxon Valdez, an oil tanker, had crashed and caused a great oil spill in Price William Sound, Alaska.  This was a great environmental disaster killing much wildlife.  The government and Exxon wrangled over who would clean it up.  It finally was decided that they both would.  The Navy would basically oversee and assist their work in the cleanup.  Our ship would go to assist with this.  Being an amphibious assault ship we were built to house over a thousand marines.  We were a great fit to house hundreds of civilian workers that would clean this mess up.  What this mean was that after only a few months back from West Pac, we would be off to sea and away from home for some undetermined time that would be at least two months.

Alaska was so beautiful!  I had never understood Alaskan Cruises before.  We were a large ship and we pulled in through an opening between snow capped mountains that were lined with pine trees.  The water was placid and there was much wildlife.  Flying fish decorated the waters along with seals, porpoises, etc.  The highlight, which made even the most battle-tested officers stop and stare, was huge stark black and white killer Whales jumping up out of the clear blue waters.  It was breath-taking and magnificent!  While we were up in Alaska an odd thing happened.  Each day during quarters (where we reported for daily announcements and instructions) the Chief would go over the Plan of the day.  It was our daily guide, a two – three sheet paper that would give announcements, recognize performance, etc.   In the Plan of the day was an intriguing position posting by the Captain himself.  Yeoman was one of the professions you could strike (learn, become qualified and engage in) for.  It was basically an administrative type position that worked in the Captain’s office for Ship’s correspondence.  In fact, it was there office that was assigned publication of the Plan of the day, which had to have the Captain’s signature and approval prior to distribution each day.  This was a very bizarre posting.  To “strike” for a position, usually you had to have a Navy School in your background which qualified you for the particular area.  What had happened was one of the Yeomen working in the Captain’s office had been “busted” smoking marijuana.  This is a very serious offense, which is addressed by the Captain through Captain’s Mass.  What the Captain did was not only all the usual punishments, but also to take this man’s Rating of Yeoman away from him and place him in Deck Department.  You already know from what I’ve told you that Deck is where everyone goes who has no qualifications to do all the menial work – yep, where I had been my whole young Navy career.  In Deck not only did you do all these difficult tasks, go “mess cranking”, etc., but you stood those dreadful watches two out of four nights.  Not so in the Captain’s office as a Yeoman.  You performed for the Captain alone.  No watches.

I had a big decision to make.  I could put in for this.  When even you had a request in the Navy they had a procedure for it.  I believe it was called a CHIT and this acronym I don’t recall what it stood for.  It was an official form that detailed the request and went up the whole chain of command.  It went to your direct supervisor and eventually all the way up to the Captain.  Each of your superiors would check recommended or not recommended.  There was only one spot at the bottom for approved or not approved, which was signed by the Captain alone.  I had many thoughts go through my mind.  I really had enjoyed serving the Captain before and would like to do it again.  He did at least know my name and had given me some affirmation that I served him well.  But, I had absolutely no qualifications at all.  I knew I would not be the only one that would be interested in no watches or bathroom cleaning duty anymore.  Plus, I was only enlisted in the Navy in active duty for about one more year.  This was a professional position that would be better served by someone looking at a military career.  The biggest reality outside of not being qualified was that all of my superiors within deck department would surely deny the request.  I was doing critical work for them and was hard to retrain and replace, why would they let me go?  They had done me a favor by putting me in charge of what I was currently doing.  If I put in for it, I would realistically be denied and would likely feel the wrath of my deck department superiors since this would be an insult to them that would go all the way up the chain of command, including the Captain.  I had little chance for success and would likely be back where I started on bathroom duty or worse yet in a safety harness painting over the side of the ship.

Only by a deep feeling in my heart of desire did I decide to take the huge risk and put this request in.   It was hard not knowing what would happen, and I felt the stares and whispers as I waited for what would happen.  I put it out of my mind the best that I could since I didn’t control my own destiny.  One night I went to go stand my late night watch.  When we were out to sea and you did this, you would have to report to the bridge about 15 minutes early since it was so dark to let your eyes adjust to the darkness.  When you first climbed up you would have to do so blindly.  Navy ships don’t want to be seen at night and very little lighting is allowed.  I climbed up the ladder to where the bridge was.  I stood at the top just outside between the bridge and the Captain’s Quarters.  I was at the top and completely blind still.  I heard a loud voice “Ellsworth!”.  “Yes Sir!”, I said.  I knew who’s voice it was.  It was the Captain’s.  From serving him I knew his voice without seeing him.  He asked me if I had some requirements done in a basic training manual.  I had it nearly done.  He asked me if I could have it done by weeks end.  I said “Yes Sir!”.  I did complete this book with the help of others who I explained my urgency and my ultimate goal.  Many humble people helped me where I was deficient in training or skill.

I received my request back fully filled out.  Much was as I feared and expected.  Each of my superiors all the way up the chain of command marked “Not Recommended”.  Then my eyes laid down at the bottom where the Captain marked “Approved” with his signature next to it.  That was it!  I was out of Deck Department and into the Captain’s office as a Yeoman!  No more watches in the middle of the night!  No matter how mad anyone could be at me for this, they could do nothing.  I had the Captain’s approval and signature.  I was soon gone from Deck Department and serving the Captain full time.

While in the Captain’s office I learned my duties as quick as I was able.  I still had about one year to serve in my enlistment.  This news had given me a much needed lift.  For the first time I was excited about serving in the Navy.  My banner had been taken away in boot camp.  Now I was put in a position I did not deserve and was not qualified for.  I had the Captain’s favor and I was happy to serve him.  My immediate supervisor was an enlisted man of the rank of YN first class.  He was a nice man and very experienced at his position.  He taught me well.

A few months later we had a dress inspection.  This is where we had to put on our dress white uniforms and stand in our respective departments for the Captain’s inspection.  They did recognize the best uniform, but everyone was much more nervous about simply passing.  I got my uniform ready the best I knew how.  We were all trained very well in this area.  We have special clothing, hats, ribbons, etc. for this very event.  Much of them are stored away only for inspection.  Some of my items were in air-sealed baggies.  We were all dressed and were in our groups at attention awaiting the Captain’s inspection.  It took a lot of patience and perseverance as he closely inspected uniforms of hundreds of men.  He came down my row and looked me over.  He stopped after me and told my supervisor, YN1, “Ellsworth would have had the best uniform of the ship, except he did not put edge dressing on his shoes as I had specifically ordered.”  I passed inspection and even had one of the best uniforms, but I felt really disappointed in myself.  Edge dressing is essentially some black paint in a bottle that goes around the soles of your shoes to clean them up.  I did remember those specific instructions.  In all the harder parts of the uniform I had covered only to forget one of the more simplistic aspects – edge dressing on the soles of my shoes.  I still struggle with missing this to this day.

During wartime and wartime drills, the ship sounds an alert which is called General Quarters.  This is when you man you battle station.  The Captain takes direct command as The Officer of the Deck on the Bridge.  Only highly qualified personnel take the most important positions.  This is war and life and death, nothing is left to chance.  I was named as the Captain’s 1JV1 phonetalker.  What is this you ask?  Well, during wartime the Captain again is The Officer of the Deck.  It truly becomes his ship and completely under his command.  The communication goes forward to battle positions through headset-phones.  I was the one now who stood by the Captain’s side to hear his orders and repeat them for the whole ship to follow.  It really was a difficult position.  I had to listen closely and hear exactly what the Captain would say and be extra careful to make sure those orders were repeated in exact duplication.  This had to be done expediently and with no mistakes.  It really was a position of high responsibility and importance.  How I got it, I’ll never know.  I have a horrible memory for words.  To this day I really write everything down, knowing that if I don’t I’ll forget.  I am so humbled to have served the Captain in this way.  Yet another way where I certainly didn’t feel qualified for a position that was given to me.

With only a handful of months to go left in my enlistment I had one last surprise in store for me.  YN1 had been working on something secretive on our office computer.  We worked in fairly tight quarters, so it was easy to know he was hiding something.  It really was hard to respect his secrecy, not only from a practical perspective, but I really was curious.  I don’t remember how I first found out, but someone let me know – the Captain had named me Sailor of the Quarter for my rank.  This was amazing!  Here I was not even qualified for my position, and only a Sea College guy in for two years active duty with no formal Navy Schools.  Many enlisted guys did not even consider Sea College sailors to be veterans.  Actually two years is the minimum amount of service to be considered a veteran.  I was very excited.  The Navy put it in the Plan of the day for a quarter, and sent official word home to my family.

There was a formal ceremony for this sort of recognition.  We all were in dress uniform and reported to the flight deck.  I waited until the Captain called my name.  I came forward in front of all the Ship’s personnel.  He ready my accolades to the group as I stood there.  He handed me the official certificate, and he saluted me as I returned his salute.

I have no words for this.  This was amazing when it was taking place in the Navy.  It certainly seemed surreal and much like a dream I would wake up from.  What I have realized since is the deep, deep meaning and life lessons I have taken from this time.  While I was in the most difficult of circumstances and what I thought was complete abandonment, was nothing of the sort My Captain was right there with me the whole time knowing each hair on my head.  I treasure this time of learning and what I know now to be prophetic in my life while I was in the Navy.  I love My Captain with all my Heart.

Finally, the day did come where my enlistment ended and I got to walk off the same ladder that I had feared coming on to the ship, and then down the dock.  Yes, finally I was going home.  It felt so Glorious and good!
 

My Captain

You are my Captain Lord

You take me through the hurricane

You sustain me in the storm

You give me peace and calm

You break the cap of the wave that seeks my destruction

You call me with your voice in the dark

You rescue me and have not forgotten me

I seek your face and honor you with service

I salute you in my heart I seek your approval

I seek your recognition I seek your praise

I take your orders and communicate them to your servants

They listen to your call I send your order to your servants and call them to arms

I have learned to trust in your voice

You do not let their words come against me

You do not let their schemes come against me

Your hands scoop up ocean waters

Your destroy Aircraft Carriers and Battleships with words

You sit calmly in the midst of war

Your eyes strike fear into the hearts of your enemies

They will not survive the day you come against them

As a lowly servant you see me as important

You have not forgotten my service to you

You pay no mind to recommendations of officers and chiefs Instead you see me and you call my name

You give me accolades and glory

You put my burdens and my past behind me I am secure and fulfilled in your service

You are my Lord and my God!

You are my Captain Lord!