Only two days after Will and Billy reported for duty the USS Brighton steamed out of the port of San Diego loaded with heavy equipment and supplies for the troops in South Vietnam.  The two new seamen were given a crash course on their duties in the engine room.  There was not much to learn: keep an eye on several gauges in the control room that monitored the functions of the massive engine and periodically lubricate various gears and bearings.  If something did go wrong, they were to immediately notify the Crew Chief who would dispatch an experienced team to correct the problem.  The implication (not a promise) was that they might be promoted out of the engine room and would have less menial duty.  Unless something went wrong, there was little to do and most of the time was boring.   The twelve hour shifts were staggered.  Will worked from six in the morning to six at night.  Billy worked noon to midnight.  Two other sailors had similar schedules so the engine room was staffed with two people around the clock.  Both Billy and Will treasured the six hours a day they spent together.  Both craved the same thing: intimacy.  But neither dared doing or saying anything that might destroy a friendship and possibly result in severe military punishment.

On the second day at sea, a sailor came into the engine room asking, “Benson?”

“That’s me,” Will replied.

“Message from the Captain,” the sailor said, handing Will a piece of paper and walking out.

Will read what was on the paper: “Report to me in my office at the end of your shift.”  His surprise and curiosity quickly turned to apprehension.  Had he said or done something that would arouse suspicion over his friendship with Billy?  He frantically tried to remember something — anything — that would be incriminating but drew a blank.  Except for the parting hug at the airport.  Someone must have seen it and reported it.  Confusion, worry, and anxiety grew.  By the time Billy came on duty at noon, Will was at his wit’s end, having convinced himself that he would be confronted with an unknown person’s eyewitness account of his taboo behavior.  Billy, of course, noticed Will’s agitated mood and immediately and asked, “What’s the problem?  Can I help?”

Will had debated whether to say to Billy about the summons to the Captain’s office, vacillating between saying nothing and telling him about the note.  What he dared not say was the real reason for his dread of why the Captain wanted to see him.  “I got a strange note this morning.  From the Captain!  He wants me in his office as soon as I go off duty.  You’ve got to admit that’s unusual.  I have no idea what he wants.”

Billy thought for a moment and said, “The way I sees it, he’s just wonderin’ why ya got assigned to the engine room.  Makes sense to me that he looks over the personnel files of all new crew members.  An’ that would show y’all was way ahead of the rest of us in boot camp.  I got a hunch he wants to put ya in a better job.”

“Maybe so,” Will agreed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of the possibility.

“For what’s it’s worth, Will, I’m of a mind that ya should go for it.  If’n he wants ya somewhere else, that is.  I sure would miss ya but it’d be best for y’all.”

“Thanks, Billy.  I let myself get all worked up in a lather and you’ve calmed me down.  Maybe you’re right.  But I can tell you this for sure.  “I’d miss being with my best buddy.  IF, that is, you’re right and IF I accept a reassignment.”

“Ya may have no choice, Will.  If’n it’s an order, ya gotta do what he says.”

“Damn!  Now you’ve got me worrying again — not about seeing the Captain but being ordered to take another job.”

“It’ll work out, Will.  We can still be buddies.  Even if we don’t get to work together.”

In the following six hours, Billy repeatedly tried to calm his friend’s nerves but with little more than minimal success.  Will was still troubled by the prospect of being accused of homosexuality.  And trying to explain away any evidence or suspicion the Captain may have.

Will stopped at his bunk to freshen up before what he had come to regard as his judgment day.  If he was to be found guilty of “unmanly” behavior, at least he would be presentable as he was forced to accept the punishment.

At five past six he knocked on the Captain’s open door and said, “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Benson?  Yes.  Come in.  Sit down.”

Will’s heart was racing.  His stomach was churning.  His mind was jumbled.  He hoped he wasn’t sweating or shaking as he took a seat.

“First of all, Benson, I want this to be informal ... off the record.  I’m going to be frank and I want you to talk freely.  For this meeting only, try to forget the bars on my shoulder.  Okay?”

The Captain’s warm and cordial demeanor helped to calm Will’s nerves and he replied, “Yes, Sir.”

“I make it a habit to review the records of all my new crew members.  I’d like to meet them personally and welcome them to the Brighton but that’s rarely possible.  In your case, however, I felt I had to meet you and talk to you.  Your performance reports from training are universally positive ... academics, physical training, attitude ... on every measure you’re superior.  I also noticed with considerable interest that you were in the NROTC at Columbia and recommended for nomination to OCS during basic training.  Imagine my curiosity ... and, may I say, disappointment ... when you refused the opportunity.  Why did you turn down what other recruits would give their left nut for?”

Will was extraordinarily relieved that the conversation was not about homosexuality or even about his close friendship with Billy.  His anxiety level dropped to normal — normal, that is, for a freshly minted sailor talking to the Captain of the ship.  Before answering the Captain, Will said, “You indicated that this meeting was to be informal.  Does that mean I can speak freely, Sir?”

“Please do.”

“All I can say, Sir, is what I told Captain Williamson back at Great Lakes.  OCS would have been a great honor ... but it would come with the expectation of extended service in the Navy ... perhaps as a career.  I was flattered and appreciated the offer but it’s not what I want to do with my life.  Do I want to serve my country in the Navy?  Absolutely!  But I don’t want to make a career out of it.”

“I see,” said the Captain.  “There’s just one more question I have.  Why ... with your outstanding talent ... were you assigned to the engine room of a cargo ship?  It seems the Navy is not benefiting from what you can offer.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir.  It may have been a clerical error.  Or some kind of SNAFU.  Or it may have been...”  Will didn’t complete his comment and regretted having begun it.

“Or what, Benson?”

“With respect, Sir, I’d rather not say.  It’s pure speculation.”

“I’ve assured you that this meeting is off the record.  Nothing you say will leave this room.  I just want to understand the men under my command ... especially men who might have leadership potential.  You were about to say?”

“Well, Sir, I have no proof.  I’m extrapolating from incidents in my past.  But I think it’s plausible that my father arranged the assignment as punishment for refusing OCS.”

“And how in the name of all that’s Holy could he do that?”

“With respect, Sir, I must decline to answer that question.  To do so would jeopardize the reputation of someone and I’m unwilling to do that solely on the basis of personal inference.”

The Captain sat quietly for several moments, which made Will nervous.  Had he shown disrespect or disobedience in refusing to answer?  Was the Captain serious in saying that the conversation was informal?  Eventually, the Captain spoke.  “Your discretion is admirable, Benson ... just the sort of thing a leader must have.  Before you go, I want you to know that I’ll be keeping an eye on you.  If the opportunity arises, I’m going to give you an assignment more in keeping with your abilities.  I don’t know what that might be at the moment but I’m confident the time will come.  Oh.  One more thing.  I promised that this meeting was off the record.  I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell any of your shipmates about it ... except, perhaps, to say that I just wanted to meet a new member of the crew.  Will you do that for me?”

“Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”

“Dismissed, sailor.”

Will stood, saluted his Commanding Officer, did a smart about-face, and left.  Making his way back to his quarters, he chided himself for worrying so much about being accused of homosexuality and elevated his respect for Billy who correctly identified the purpose of the meeting.

While Will was meeting with the Captain, Billy frequently wondered what it was all about.  He was not worried as Will had been about the homosexuality issue since neither of them had said or done anything to suggest improper behavior since coming aboard the ship.  At one point, he decided he would wake his buddy when he got off duty at midnight but discarded the idea.  Instead, he would be sure to be awake well before six the next morning to talk to Will and to satisfy his curiosity.

Will, keeping his promise, said only, “The Captain wanted to meet one of the new crew members.  He’s really a pretty nice guy.  I’m glad to be serving in his command.”

“Why’d he pick you?” Billy probed.  “Was it ‘cause o’ yur performance in trainin’ like I thought?”

“Can’t say,” Will responded.  “He told me that he tried to meet new crew members when he has time.”  Will complimented himself.  It was not a lie ... it was a half-truth but not a lie.  And it seemed to satisfy Billy’s curiosity.  “Gotta go get some breakfast now, good buddy.  See you at noon ... or, in Navy lingo, eight bells.”

<><><><><> 

At noon the following day, the Captain’s voice came over the PA system throughout the ship.  “Attention all hands.  This is the Captain.  We have been diverted to Guadalcanal to pick up additional cargo for Vietnam.  That means we’ll be crossing the equator at approximately 0800 hours tomorrow.  Shellbacks will inform all pollywogs of appropriate preparations.  That is all.”

“I know what a pollywog is,” Billy said.  “Used to catch ‘em in the crick back o’ the barn.  Used the little ones for fishin’ bait.  But beats me why they has ‘em on a ship.  And what in tarnation is a shellback?”

“I have no idea,” Will replied, just as perplexed as his buddy.  “I guess we’ll find out sooner or later ... or at least be given orders for whatever the ‘preparations’ might be.

Billy thought for a while and then said, “Ya tol’ me that yur daddy and gran’pappy were in the Navy.  What’d they tell ya about crossin’ the ‘quator?”

“Not a thing,” Will said apologetically.  “Either they never crossed the equator or there’s something secretive about it.  We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Several minutes later, a Lieutenant burst into the engine room shouting, “Listen up, slimy pollywogs!  You heard the Captain.  It’s wog day!  We’ll cross the equator tomorrow,  That means you wogs will be initiated into the Kingdom of Neptune and forever more be known as Trusty Shellbacks.”  Billy and Will were stunned into silence not only by the presence of an officer in the engine room but by the bizarre things he was saying.  They could only hope that things became clearer as he continued.  “Tonight at 1900 hours you will report topside.  You and other unworthy pollywogs will assemble at the stern to await your summons by King Neptune.  Which of you will be on duty here at that time?”

“I will, Sir,” replied Will.

“No you won’t!  What part of ‘report topside at 1900 hours’ don’t you understand, Slimy Pollywog.  A Shellback will relieve you long enough for the ceremony.”

The Lieutenant turned to leave but Will said, “Sir, can we ask what this is all about?”

“No, you may not!” the officer barked with an expression of anger etched on his face.  “King Neptune will give you the details at the ceremony.”

Both Billy and Will obsessed for hours over the mystery of what the ceremony would be. 

A brawny sailor came into the engine room fifteen minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to begin.  Will asked, “What’s going on with this ceremony business?”

The sailor laughed and said, “You’ll find out.  All I can say is that it’s an ancient tradition. There was a time when new sailors were brutally tormented.  Several died from it.  As late as World War II, the initiation involved paddling, whipping, and dunking.  But I can’t say what the Captain will allow.  All I can say is ‘good luck’.”

His ominous comment instantly changed Will’s curiosity to anxiety.

To be continued...

The author is indebted to Iatia for inspiration and editing.