YouTube Never Forgets
Lt.
Chris James startled awake, unsure for a few seconds where he was. But it only took a moment. Oh yeah.
New apartment, he muttered to himself. He’d only recently transferred from the
regular navy into the Reserves so that he could accept Admiral Harriman
Nelson’s (Ret.) offer to become Second Officer aboard NIMR’s research submarine,
Seaview. He’d barely had time to have
his gear shipped to Santa Barbara from BOQ at San Diego, where he’d been
stationed, before Seaview had sailed, and his new digs were a mess of
half-filled boxes as he puttered when time permitted to get himself squared
away. He now had a whole four days off,
Seaview having just returned the afternoon before, to get totally settled in
before he had to report. He’d had a bit
of a celebration-slash-welcome aboard party with several of the other JO’s the
night before, but now he needed to get busy.
He’d
been surprised about the time off. Sure,
Seaview had been at sea for just over three weeks and he’d hoped for at least a
full day to finally get settled. But as
he was helping get the sub’s crew checked off for their leaves the boat’s XO,
Lt. Cdr. Charles P. Morton, who both the Skipper and Admiral Nelson mostly
called ‘Chip’, handed him a slip of paper with his own leave schedule. They’d arrived back on Wednesday afternoon;
Chris was to report to the XO in NIMR’s Admin Building the next Monday morning
at 0730 hours. He knew he’d stared at
the man. Very no-nonsense on duty, the
blond had surprised him and grinned.
“We
didn’t give you much of a chance to get moved before we had to leave,” came
from Cdr. Lee Crane, Seaview’s captain, standing next to the XO. He also smiled. “Get yourself sorted out. Seaview doesn’t sail again for a couple
weeks…”
“Barring
emergencies,” the XO interrupted with a grumble, his face once more stern.
The
Skipper nodded. “It happens,” he told
Chris. “You’ve got time. Just keep your pager close by.”
“Aye,
aye, sirs,” Chris had answered. Lt.
Keeter had been close by for whatever reason, had gathered Chris up on his way
out, and pizza and beer at BZ’s had cemented the growing friendships Chris was
making with his new crewmates.
After
a quick shower Chris started in on the chaos.
Most of the boxes were marked with at least partial contents. He’d left the majority of them stacked in the
livingroom, only taking out the few things he’d absolutely needed before he
left. Now he took the time to move whole
boxes closer to where most of the contents needed to be and then set to work
sorting everything into its new home.
One
thing that had been unpacked was his laptop computer. He took a break about 1100 hours, hit the
grocery store for enough staples to get him through the next couple days, built
himself a double sandwich, and sat down to catch up with family and friends
after his whirlwind change of assignments.
One comment by his older brother had him checking out YouTube for a
video his sister-in-law had posted of their daughter’s high school chorus
singing the National Anthem at the beginning of a multi-school track meet. Chris was impressed; the group had done a
great job. He’d also, because of it,
stood and saluted even though he was the only one there. He took his oath and duty seriously!
Once
re-seated, as he took another bite of sandwich, he glanced at the edge of the
screen where the website made suggestions of similar videos the watcher might
enjoy. With still most of a whole
sandwich to go he clicked on one that another parent had posted of their son’s
school glee club performance. Chris
decided they needed to take lessons from his niece’s choir director.
But
a couple words on a video next to that one caught his eye; something to do with
a performance by the Naval Academy Glee Club, and Chris eagerly clicked on
it. Chris, himself, couldn’t carry a
tune in a bucket. But one of the fun parts
of his four years at the Academy had been listening to the Men’s Glee Club
giving the occasional performance. Their
range of music varied greatly from sea shanties through patriotic, to pop
songs. The Director had a deft hand at
selecting voices to blend in particularly wonderful ways. From the roughly 3600 men of the total
enrollment of just over 4500, only sixty were chosen after a rigorous set of
auditions. Taking another bite, Chris
clicked on the clip and sat back to listen and enjoy.
But
he almost instantly leaned forward again and studied the screen closely. That’s not the director I remember. Well, he muttered to himself, it has
been a few years. He berated himself
slightly and once more sat back. But
‘something’ wasn’t right and he again sat forward to seriously study the clip.
The
group was singing one of their favorite shanties, ‘What Do You Do With a
Drunken Sailor’. Chris remembered how
much fun the group during his tenure had enjoyed performing it, with bits of
silliness from individual members here and there as they mentioned this
solution and that. He especially liked,
right towards the end, one singer’s drunken ‘hic’ to punctuate his supposed
drunken stupor. He watched with a grin
on his face to see who the ‘lucky’ midshipman was picked for that special
moment.
He
nearly fell out of his chair. “What?” he
yelled at the computer screen, totally not believing what he thought that he’d
just seen. Then he quickly clicked his
mouse to replay the clip and sat as close as he could get. It still took him two more plays to confirm
his conclusion. He grabbed his cell
phone, checked his contacts, and dialed Lt. Keeter’s number. After asking his question and hearing the
JO’s laughing confirmation, all he could do was hang up and sit back in
amazement. There, on the computer
screen, was one of the most amazing sights he’d ever seen: his new XO,
straight-laced, no-nonsense, Lt. Cdr. Charles P. Morton, nearly falling off the
chorus riser as he played his drunken part of the old shanty! *
* see “The Assignment” by R. L. Keller