Detachment Two was still cleaning gear from their morning dive. Chief Keating introduced Jazz to each of the men, but he was not retaining any of their names.
Jazz and Keating stepped on the trailer and climbed into Det Four’s twenty-four foot, rigid hull inflatable boat or RHIB. RHIBs became very popular for use by the U.S. Navy in the late 80’s and early 90’s especially for specialized units. The boat incorporates a strong fiberglass hull giving strength and allowing speed through the water. Just above the waterline inflatable rubber pontoons comprise the freeboard. The pontoons give the RHIB superior stability, especially in rough seas.
The RHIBs the Navy bought for MCM detachments had twin 150 horsepower engines with a hard mounted towing bar above them. They employed a single center console design so that there was plenty of deck space for an EOD team to travel great distances, up to 150 nautical miles, with all of their diving and support equipment. The whole boat was painted a camouflage scheme of light blue and gray. From a short distance the RHIB’s outline would not catch even an observant eye.
“You’re going to spend a lot of time in this boat,” Keating remarked.
Det Four also had a fifteen-foot Mark-5 rubber boat for operating onboard the MCMs and MHCs and an F470 for casting out of aircraft. Keating explained that one crew cab pickup, one standard pickup, and one HUMMVEE belong to Det Four. They also had a container box about a third of the size of a tractor trailer. It housed the fly-away dive locker or FADL that was used to perform maintenance on all of the det’s diving equipment.
After the tour Jazz and Keating headed back to the front of the building.
“Is there a place to stow my gear, Chief?”
“Uh, yes, sir. There is a locker in the officer’s head for you to use for uniforms, civvies and PT gear. There is a bigger locker in the back for your dive gear, field equipment. All your hooya stuff.”
“Great. I’ve got some gear to move in.”
Some of the initial issue gear he obtained in Charleston. A pair of command sweats, t-shirt, and shorts went into the locker in the officer’s head. A Protec helmet, mask, fins, snorkel, booties, and gloves went into the locker in the equipment room. He pulled out the mission knife that the Admiral had given him and hung it by its straps on a hook in the back of the locker.
Jazz looked at it for a moment. He wondered if his father was really free of his own notions of failure. Jazz felt that he was mostly free of his father’s expectations. He thought that perhaps the knife was finally, just a knife.
Now it will get some good use, he thought.
Since it was a quiet day at the det, Jazz decided to obtain the service records of his new shipmates and review them. He went to the personnel office on base. As the relieving OIC he had the authority to draw and review his men’s records at any time. It was a common practice when checking onboard a command, but he did not want to do it in front of Keating. Jazz drove home with the service records on the passenger seat.
Melanie was not home. Jazz figured she went to the pool with the kids. He surveyed the ranch house they were renting. They still had not unpacked all of the boxes. Melanie leaned pictures against the wall below the spot she thought they would go.
Jazz stripped to shorts and sunglasses, smeared sunscreen over his body and got a beer from the refrigerator.
I will never get used to this heat, he thought as he sat down at the picnic table.
Jazz skipped Reed’s record and went right to Keating’s. He wanted to find out more about the man he met today.
Keating spent his whole career in naval diving. He started as a fleet diver, working in the salvage Navy. All of his evaluations were glowing for the first ten years. Keating was on his way to reaching the pinnacle of the Navy’s diving community as a Master Diver.
Then something odd happened, instead of continuing to pursue this path, Keating applied for EOD and was accepted. His first assignment in EOD was at EOD Mobile Unit Four in Key West Florida working with mine-hunting mammals.
Damn, Jazz thought. This guy has forgotten more about diving than I’ll ever learn.
Next Jazz perused SK1 Delgado’s record. Delgado was not an EOD Tech very long; his two year anniversary would be in the fall. Jazz was surprised that ‘Storekeeper’ was a rate allowed into EOD. Most of the rates were ordnance related; Gunner’s Mate, Aviation Ordnancemen, Torpedomen. Others were classic Navy rates with obvious advantages in the diving world; Boatswain’s Mate, Enginemen, Hull Technician.
Jazz surmised that as a Storekeeper, Delgado was perfect for the pubs vault. He undoubtedly had the management skills required to maintain hundreds of volumes of ordnance related manuals.
The Texas sun worked Jazz into a good sweat. Sunblock started to run into his eyes. He went back into the house to clear his eyes and grab another beer.
Melanie came home while Jazz had his head in the fridge.
“Jazz, I’m home!” she called out.
He looked up.
“Daddy!” The boys squealed simultaneously, running toward him with outstretched arms. Jazz quickly set his beer down. He scooped up his sons in a bear hug. Growling, he ran around the room with them as they laughed with glee. Finally he set them down, collapsing in feigned exhaustion.
Melanie was laughing as she handed Jazz the baby.
“What is so funny?”
“I always wanted to say that, ‘Hey hon, I’m home!’ You’re home early. Is this how the EOD thing goes? I like it.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
Melanie picked up the beer from the counter and drank from it.
“Damn, it’s hot.”
“Yeah it is. So’d you go to the pool?”
“Yep, met one of the other wives.”
“Oh. Who?”
“Jeannie Ball. She is married to Ted Ball.”
“I haven’t met him yet.”
“She said he’s at some school. Anyway she’s very nice and I was very cool about the whole ‘officer’s wife’ thing.”
“Good.”
The Navy has strict etiquette regarding relationships between officers and enlisted men. This often spilled over to the wives’ support groups. Melanie had seen it in their previous wardroom functions. One memory that remained with her was from a luncheon she attended shortly after she gave birth to Nicholas. Children were not invited.
After two hours of tea and small talk she began excusing herself. The hostess cornered her.
“Melanie, honey you can’t leave yet,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The captain’s wife is still here. Nobody can leave until after she does.”
“I have a babysitter that needs to go to work and an infant that needs to be fed. I’m sorry, but I’m going.”
Everyone else was pleasant but she knew that they were talking about her as she drove down the street.
“I would have pumped my breast milk and had the sitter feed my baby.”
“She thinks she’s special because her husband’s an admiral’s son.”
Melanie never went to another officer wives’ function. She went with Jazz for the group functions only because it was a political necessity.
The enlisted and officers’ wives did not mingle. Oddly Melanie found the separation to be more driven by the enlisted wives that the other way around. She was often treated differently and even shunned by other women when they discovered she was married to an officer.
The Jascinski’s heard and hoped that the EOD world was different. Because of the small number of officers, familiarity with the men was simply unavoidable. The more relaxed relationship of the men carried over to their families. Melanie decided that she would make an extra effort to fit in.