The USS Hickman County (LST 825) was my home for the next year and a half. We didn't get out country that much, but when we did the liberties were memorable; in places that will echo down through the ages to the guys that pulled liberties there: Sasebo, Subic, Yoko, Hong Kong, etc. The one standout memory: Sasebo, and the nuclear powered USS Enterprise port call, the riots before the base gates and me, stranded, with my girlfriend, in a really nice hotel. It was nearly a week before I could get back to the ship, and I've always regretted the day when the rioters, weary of being knocked around by the high pressure water hoses, picked up and left town, mandating my return to duty.
My naval career foundered with my third duty station, a squadron of mine sweeping boats in Charleston, SC. I'd gone to Vietnam with some bad habits, and returned with even more than I'd left with. Mine Squadron Ten was considered good duty, but unlike sea duty I simply had too many opportunities to commit mischief. Before reporting aboard I attended mine sweeping school, where I was when Neil Armstrong had his big "One Small Step" day.
In '71 the Navy and I parted company for the last time, amicably enough, although it was a close thing. The irony is that once in civilian life I could no longer afford the habits that kept me in trouble whilst in uniform, what with a living to make, rent to pay and groceries to buy, so the wild part of me faded away, not to accompany me in my new life.
For images from my Naval career plese visit my Gallery
The new life was that of a long haul trucker, and for the next thirty-five years that was pretty well what I did. Apparently I hated it, but didn't know it, so consequently I was a real son-of-a-bitch to live with, which probably accounts for my never married status.
The thing about trucking independently is that retirement is defined by not climbing into any more trucks. There are no benefits, no checks coming in, no nothing, so by necessity I entered yet another phase of my life.
