So this didn’t happen while I was at sea, but it is one of my favorite things that happened in the Navy. It probably doesn’t paint a flattering picture of me, and it definitely exposes my temper, but it is one of my favorites nonetheless.
I had just checked into a new command after having surgery on my foot. It was a shore duty command and Marc had gotten me the job. I worked for a 2 Star Admiral in the facilities management department (Basically mopped and buffed floors and fixed any “issues” the building had. Basically I sat in my office and didn’t do a damn thing for 8 hours a day).
The day before I checked in, I went over to the building to meet some of the people I’d be working with. I had just found out I had made 3rd Class (E-4) and I was very excited. Now I had broken my foot at the end of September and it was now May the following year. I had just had surgery in April and had been useless on my feet for 7 months. As soon as I walk in the building the day I was to check in, I was asked to get my height and weight taken. This was someone who was trying to basically ruin my career and I only knew one person, my best friend Marc.
I know who called for the BAC and that is another story, but the person who was “buddies” with this person was the Master Chief (E-9) of the command. Needless to say… We didn’t hit it off all that well.
Shortly after I started, CMC asked if I could get him a parking spot reserved outside of his office. I guess when he got there, he didn’t like the office he had (mine) and moved to the other side of the building. He already had a reserved parking spot outside of the side door that led right into my office. Whatever. I called the base and asked them to come out and move the space for him. They told me that each command can only reserve a percentage of spaces and we were at the max. I told them I was asking them to black out one space and move it somewhere else. They basically told me that “they’d get to it” and I knew damn well that meant my work order was going to the bottom of the pile.
I kindly went to CMC’s office and told him that. He tried to argue with me and I told HIM to call the base and get it taken care of. He dismissed me from his office.
About a week later he came to me and asked if I could just get it done. It didn’t have to be “official” and if the base ever said anything that he would explain to them what he wanted. I told him I would call my old command and have a stencil drawn and I would have it done by the following week.
Turns out, my squadron was on a 3 week dept and couldn’t get it done in that time frame. When I told Master Chief this, he was less than pleased. He said, “We have a whole bunch of squadrons on this base! Just go to one of them and ask for a stencil!”
That’s not how shit works in the Navy. You have to know people. Even if you “know people who know people” that sometimes can work too. But I was on a different base and didn’t know ANYONE in ANY of those squadrons! I can’t just walk up to them and demand they make something for my CMC! They’d just laugh in my face!
I told him I couldn’t do that and he stormed out of my office like a 2 year old who just got told they aren’t the princess of the world.
The following week, some Senior Chief (E-8) who I had never even seen before, comes into my office, throws a bag of cans and a scalpel on my lap, and says, “Did CMC tell you to do something? You fucking do it when Master Chief tells you to do it! You have until COB.” and then he walked away. I looked at my supervisor and said (loud enough I’m sure Senior heard me), “Who the FUCK was that?!?!?! What is this shit?”
It was a bag of 2 cans of red spay paint and one can of black. He wanted me to go SPRAY PAINT THE FUCKING PARKING SPOT!
So, I took my scalpel, took some cardboard, and cut out a big CMC out of it. Proceed to go outside and paint his parking space.
I fucked up my measurements and ended up painting the entire width of the spot red and put in big black letters CMC.
I was so mad that when Marc tried to come out and talk to me, I just ignored him.
When I was finished, I walked into CMC’s office and said, “There. It’s done.” He said “Thank you” and I went back to my office.
About a 10 minutes later, Marc comes running down to my office and said, “I see you’ve finished.”
Me: “Yeah. Fuck him. He’s a dick. I’m not even gonna tell that fuck head of a Senior Chief”
Marc: “Well. You got everyone laughing upstairs. Someone looked out the window and said ‘Wow. Who did that? You know what that is? That’s one big FUCK YOU to a Maser Chief!'”
Me: “That is not what they said!”
Marc: “Yup. You have all those retired Chiefs, Senior Chiefs, and Master Chiefs, along with my Captain, thinking you have the biggest balls in the United States Navy.”
Me: “I’m not fixing it.”
Marc: “I know.”
It stayed there for about 3 months before I fixed it. I litteraly had CMC BEGGING me to do it. I finally gave in before my 2nd surgery on my feet.
It has been 7 years and it is still funny. Whenever I’m in a shitty mood or feel trapped, this is the story I remember remind myself that “I have the biggest balls in the United States Navy.”