“He curses like a sailor.”
It wasn’t until I started interacting with actual Sailors and future Sailors that I came to see the above is not just a clever saying remarking on a bygone era; it holds true today.
More after the jump...
More after the jump...
Now, I’m no stranger to cussing or foul language or anything of the sort. However, when I first heard a group of Sailors talking turkey one afternoon at the Processing Station, I was struck by how liberally their conversation was peppered with colorful metaphors. I’ve been in, and am currently in, actually, situations where the majority of my peers have no problem in letting fly some damnation, some crass feces, and the f-bomb. Honestly, it doesn’t bother me all too much unless the speaker is being a complete twat and clearly doesn’t know what he’s saying.
Another thing I’ve observed about the Sailor’s life these last few weeks is that it is a largely thankless job. There are several folks going into the service with little to no support from friends and/or family. In fact, more than once I’ve learned of people who have been disowned from their family. My first impression is one of shock, as I’ve gotten nothing but support and encouragement and excitement from my friends and particularly my family. It saddens me; my heart goes out to them. These folks are volunteering to be part of America
Say a prayer for those Sailors today. If you know one personally, give him a phone call, write her a letter – not just a text or a Facebook wall posting – something they can hold in their hands and know why they’re sailing into harm’s way.
Eternal Father, Strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to thee,
for those in peril on the sea.
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to thee,
for those in peril on the sea.
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