The Last Hurrah

I missed Tim when he went back to sea, and was not particularly interested in dating anyone else, though there was still Bob whom I met at church. Guys continued to visit us in our office, one being the Chief Petty Officer who handled the base’s mail. He must have brought the Waves our mail last, for he stayed a while when he got there. Not because of me. He was attracted to another Master-at-Arms named Gibson, whom we called Gibby. He had been married to a girl from England, and they had lost a baby, which broke them apart. I learned many years later 70% of the couples in this country who lose a child, end up divorcing. The other 30% usually have stronger marriages. Eventually I learned that Gibby and the Chief married and were working with children in California.

Time was flying and I knew it would not be long before our barracks at Oak Knoll would close and I would be discharged from the Navy. But I could sign up for the Reserves and I did. Then one day I received a happy surprise. I got another chevron on my sleeve. I was now Petty Officer, Second Class. I didn’t hear of anyone else’s getting a promotion at that time.

One evening when I had the duty, just before dark in walked a Wave who had been AWOL for twenty-nine days. She was hatless; her seersucker collar was open; she wore no tie; wore a brown belt around her waist; and her hair was long enough to reach her collar. I called the O. D. (Officer of the Day) and reported Zona Flavin had reported in. My orders were to keep her by my side till someone else got there. Within five minutes, that someone arrived, placed a wide band around Flavin’s left arm, which read “Prisoner-at-Large” and another on my left arm which read “S. P.,” for Shore Patrol. He read her orders aloud. She was restricted to barracks except for her work time in the hospital, and for meals which she would eat in my presence. She was to stay in uniform at all times in the presence of others. And she was not allowed to talk with others in public. Final judgment was to be in thirty days. That judgment, I figured, would depend to a great extent on her conduct in these thirty days. She likely suspected that too.

Well! I wasn’t about to eat with her in the Hospital Corps women’s dining hall; she had to go with me to the Ship’s Crew dining hall. This turned out to be hilarious. The men saw her arm band and knew the rules perfectly. They had a ball talking to her, making comments they knew she’d want to answer but could not. I will say this for her, she did not break the rules. In the following evenings, she often came into my office to sit but with no conversation from her, only from me. I don’t recall what I said to her, but I certainly did not preach. I’m sure I gave her a tiny job to do now and then, such as alphabetizing a stack of papers.

Before Flavin’s number was up, I opted for discharge. On the street in downtown Nashville some time later, I met Captain Dowlen from Oak Knoll, who told me Flavin had cleaned up her act, busted, of course, and had made a good Wave. I was delighted to hear it.

♥