Sister Needle and Brother Hammer
- 3 years ago
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Junkyard’s Hammer free porn video
The line at the ship’s store wasn’t that long today. After all, it was the only place that most of the crew had to spend their money. The store was a closet sized niche directly across from the ship’s post office and sickbay. Most of the people in line were buying toiletries, stationary, and underwear. My purpose was slightly different. The big, shiny new boom box with the dual cassette players was what I was after. I had just been promoted to Seaman, and the extra sixty dollars per month was already burning a hole in my pocket.
When I stepped up to the window, I already knew what I wanted, the stereo, and six “D” cell batteries. I counted out six twenty-dollar bills, and waited for my new toy. The ship’s serviceman that was working in the store that day handed me the articles, and the change. I thanked him and headed for the ship’s fantail where I could check out my new stereo.
As I walked outside on the fantail I felt like a changed man. The world of steel walls and artificial lights was left behind, and I had entered a world of incredibly blue sunny skies, and beautiful seascapes. There was a gentle swell as the ship slowly moved towards its destination. I took a seat on a tool storage box and began to unwrap my prize. The thought of reading the directions briefly crossed my mind, but was rejected as I cast the empty box and wrappings over the side of the ship. The batteries slipped inside in an instant, and I was ready to give her a try. I moved the switch from the “tape” to the “radio” position. I turned up the volume, and turned the tuning dial, hoping to pick up a distant radio station. After sweeping back and forth across the tuning rang, I realized that we were too far out to sea to receive a station. No problem, I took out a cassette tape and popped it into the player. As soon as I pushed the play button the music poured out from the box, and I knew that I was in business.
For the next couple of weeks, I took my boom box everywhere. I listened in my bunk, when I was working in the galley, and when I would set out on the fantail after I was done with work. My boss, the lead cook, did not mind my playing the box when we were preparing for a meal, but he made me shut it off during the meal hour. I thought that was fair enough. It was especially nice at night when we were cleaning up after the evening meal. There is nothing like scrubbing the floor to Ted Nugent.
My duty in the galley was just temporary. All crewmembers had to do 3 months of “mess-cooking”, when they first came onboard. I was looking forward to the day that I could leave the galley behind, and start learning my real trade as a Torpedoman’s Mate.
The leading Torpedoman on the ship was a crusty old Petty Officer Third Class named, Arthur (Junkyard) Williams. Everyone called Petty Officer Williams J.Y, or Junk, short for Junkyard. The reason he was nicknamed junkyard, was that he had a junkyard full of shrapnel in his body from his service over in Viet Nam. He was widely respected around the ship, and that had nothing to do with the fact that he walked around the ship carrying a three-pound sledgehammer. Now Junkyard was a man of few words. Most of the time he would just swing his hammer and talk to himself. Junk even slept with that hammer. Believe me, it was a bad move to go to his bunk and shake him awake.
When I finished my tour of duty in the ship’s galley, I was released to go to my division, AS Division and start my OJT. AS, stood for Anti-Submarine, and I couldn’t wait to start work on my submarine hunting torpedoes. I soon found out that as a new trainee, my job was mostly removing and applying grease, and chipping and applying paint. I decided to help combat the drudgery of these jobs, that I would bring my boom box to work, and listen to some good old rock and roll while I labored.
The first day I brought the stereo to work I was painting outside of the ship. My main concern was flinging paint onto to my new boom box. The next day I was assigned to do some maintenance on the Torpedo Tubes. When I went into the Torpedo Room with the boom box blasting, Junk told me to shut it off. I just assumed he didn’t like the kind of music I was listening to. He gave me my assignment and I asked him if I could listen to my radio quietly while I worked. He told me absolutely not, and then told me about H.E.R.O., which stands for Hazards of Electromagnetic Radiation to Ordnance. Junk told me that my stereo transmitted electromagnetic radiation that could set off all those torpedoes in the room. I remembered that we had learned of these phenomena in my technical school, but I believed that it applied only to radio transmitters, not receivers. I decided that it would not be a good idea to argue with Junk about this, so I went to my task and had a good day of work.
When it was time to knock off I still had a couple of hours work to do to complete the job, so I asked Junk if I could finish after dinner. He told me it was no problem, and game me an extra key to the torpedo room.
After an outstanding supper of Pork Adobo and rice, I went down to my berthing compartment to clean up a little bit. Without thinking about it, I grabbed my boom box out of my locker, and headed back to the fantail for a smoke before going back to work. After smoking a couple of cigarettes, and shooting the breeze for a while, I headed up the ladder to towards the torpedo room. Before I could get back to my assignment, I had to get my tools and materials out of the storage locker. After about two hours of work, I finished the job, and put my tools back in the toolbox. I went over to the desk in the corner of the room to record the maintenance in the shop maintenance log. I guess I reached over and flicked on the power to the stereo, and before I knew it, I was kicked back in Junkyard’s chair, rocking to the sounds of the Silver Bullet Band.
When the watertight door to the torpedo room opened, it made one helluva noise. This night it was no different. My division officer, Ensign Beatie, stuck his head in the door. He asked me what was going on, and I explained to him that I had just finished a job, and would be locking up in a few minutes. He nodded to acknowledge and closed the door. I assumed he was just making the nightly rounds of his division’s spaces. I had no idea my boom box was being heard one deck below in the wardroom.
The next time the watertight door opened that night I was drifting off to sleep. I guess the long workday, and full belly had the usual effect on me and I got drowsier, and drowsier. I awoke with a start to see someone standing over me. He was wearing a long black coat and had his hand held high over his head, holding a gleaming hammer. The hammer sliced down from the overhead with the speed of Thor’s lightning and struck my boom box with a mighty WHACK! It all seemed to happen in slow motion. There were pieces of plastic turning summersaults in the air above the desk, and some whizzed by my head with the velocity of an automatic machine gun, and a strand of cassette tape seemed to be suspended in mid air, and sparks floated toward the floor as if they were lightning bugs. Before most of the thousands of plastic shards hit the floor, he had turned and started to walk toward the watertight door. He opened the door and kind of half turned and looked at me. I could see then it was my boss Junkyard. There was a moment of silence, in fact it was so quiet I could of heard my heart beating, if it had been. Junkyard just grinned a little in one corner of his mouth and said, “By the way kid, good job getting the maintenance done tonight.”
After a few minutes I began to recover from the shock of what had just happened. I looked around and saw pieces of the stereo everywhere. No chunk was any larger than a man’s fist. It looked as if there was a bomb inside the stereo and it had gone off. I grabbed a garbage bag and began picking up the pieces that were nearby. When I finished I realized that I was holdi
ng a garbage bag with over a hundred dollars worth of junk. In those days, that was equivalent to about three days pay! Strangely, I was not mad at Junkyard, after all, he had told me not to play the radio in the torpedo room.
Over two years later, when I was the leading Torpedoman with a couple of young knuckleheads working for me, I found a piece of the stereo while cleaning the room for a big inspection. I definitely got a chuckle out of this find, as it reminded me of the day that Junkyard’s silver hammer came down upon my boom box.
Maris
- 26.04.2021
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