#naval gunnery

[possumcollege]

Automated gunnery's made our sailors lazy as shit. Look at him down there. Useless swab doesn't even know how many cheese wheels it takes to send a party hat downrange anymore. "tHe GuN KnOWs, WhY sHouLD i hAve t0?"

PICK UP A BROOM OR SOMETHING FUCKSTICK.

[clove-pinks]

The gunner was the one man whose carelessness could destroy the ship in a moment, and the Regulations showed that the Admiralty was well aware of it: there were twenty-six instructions for the lieutenant, thirty-eight for the master, eleven for the bosun, but thirty-three for the gunner. They ranged from not swabbing a gun with water 'when it grows hot, for fear of splitting' to coating guns with a mixture of tar and warm tallow if they had to be carried into the hold. [...] The last instruction said: 'No person shall be warranted as gunner before he has passed an examination before a mathematical master, and three able gunners of the Navy, and from them procure a certificate of his qualification'.

— Dudley Pope, Life in Nelson's Navy

Art from "Uniforms of The Royal Navy - HMS Victory Gunner, 1805" (1980s postcard series).

[ltwilliammowett]

Gunnery ship in a storm, by Marshall Johnson (1850-1921)

[mypastnow]

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

Doris Miller, African-American hero of World War II, the son of sharecroppers Connery and Henrietta Miller, enlisted in the United States Navy at its Dallas recruiting station.

Following bootcamp training in Norfolk, Virginia, he was assigned to the USS West Virginia as a messman.

On December 7, 1941, Mess Attendant Second Class Doris Miller was collecting soiled laundry just before 8:00 A.M. when the first bombs blasted his ship at anchor in Pearl Harbor. Miller went to the main deck where he assisted in moving the mortally wounded captain.

He then raced to an unattended deck gun and fired at the attacking planes until forced to abandon ship. It was Miller’s first experience firing such a weapon because black sailors serving in the segregated steward’s branch of the Navy were not given the gunnery training received by white sailors.

Navy officials conferred the Navy Cross upon Miller on May 27, 1942, in a ceremony at Pearl Harbor.

In addition to conferring upon him the Navy Cross, the Navy honored Doris Miller by naming a dining hall, a barracks, and a destroyer escort for him. The USS Miller is the third naval ship to be named after a black Navy man.

In Waco a YMCA branch, a park, and a cemetery bear his name. In Houston, Texas, and in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, elementary schools have been named for him, as has a Veterans of Foreign Wars chapter in Los Angeles. An auditorium on the campus of Huston-Tillotson College in Austin is dedicated to his memory. In Chicago the Doris Miller Foundation honors persons who make significant contributions to racial understanding.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[empresskadia]

A♤ 8♧ 8♤ A♧ - Final revision. Chasing perfection when I am writing without a destination. It's what I get for starting something without any plans and burning the bridge when I get there.

Part IV (Heartwarming to see Part III be so loved by you all. This might be the worst part I make because I'm taking a risk writing this one from your perspective instead. It also went under several revisions every time I thought I finished it. Also, there's a little hint there in the symbols I used here.)

-

Stars.

As a child, looking up to the night sky away from the expectations of home was the one thing that brought you peace. In that infinite black void, that never-ending sea of ink dotted by light, there was something more. Something more than the path chosen for you. There had to be, right? Space was so incomprehensibly vast, and you were once determined to see it when you were free to spread your wings. 

At home, what was expected of you mattered more than you. Your own dreams, your own desires and goals, whatever they could have been, didn't matter. Everything you did was so you could join the UNSC, whether you wanted to or not. You needed to be perfect so you could go to OCS at Corbulo like your great-grandfather. You needed to be top of your class like your mother. You needed to be a fearless, unflinching leader like your father. You needed to be an officer like your Uncle Forge. You were expected to be so much, but were never expected to just be a kid. 

Like a bird in a cage, you had everything provided to you. You wanted for nothing. But you weren't free. Even surrounded by family, you grew up alone. So, you would sneak out after curfew and look up at the night sky and dream of who you could be. It was looking up into that shapeless ocean where you were determined you would one day seize the reins of your life. For better or for worse, your fate would be your own.

Then Arcadia was attacked, and you were left all alone.

The cage was gone, but so was everything you had ever known. Your parents, your siblings, your home, everything you had ever lived and loved - all gone, violently taken away in a flash of plasma and a burst of blood. They did not grow older. Yet you were still here. With a heart full of vengeance and a hole in the shape of your family in your soul. 

Who decides such things?

From that loss, the stars no longer held that beauty. Invaders had come from the stars, and they had demanded Humanity's extinction, and space was the battlefield. What had once brought you peace had brought war to your doorstep. What had once brought you comfort drove you to enlist. Ironic, you thought, that the fate your parents wanted was the one you would choose when you had nothing.

With enlistment came new responsibilities and the same mastery of your emotions your parents drilled into you. The same expectations that your family forced upon you were expected by the UNSC, and it found you unworthy. So you hid. Locked yourself away, forbid yourself from forming attachments to your troops, or you wouldn't be capable of leading them effectively. You forgot yourself in the service of others, never gave yourself the time of day. In truth, you gave up on who you truly were. 

Which brought you here. Gunnery Sergeant Y/N L/N. Youngest to make the rank, top of your class at Reach Naval Academy, and a lovestruck fool.

It's funny. You never believed you could fall for someone.

Some would say love is a part of being human, and perhaps they were right, but it was only something you had ever observed. Your parents, as flawed as they were, deeply loved each other, and you've kept your fair share of relationships secret during your time in the military. But when it came to you, after so long in the service, romance was just never in your cards.

How could you love someone when war is all you've known for so long? Who would love you? It was easier to say that you never had time for romantic feeling, that you knew nothing of it to begin with, but it was harder to admit that, deep down, you didn't feel yourself worthy of it.

Then Naomi was assigned to your command. The Spartan-II with a golden soul and depth of humanity hidden behind a suit of armor and a childhood of military training.

She had given you the privilege to be her friend, allowed you to see beneath the Mjolnir to the person inside. In turn, she allowed you to let go and not hide behind a mask. Allowed you to be the person you buried behind rank, military protocols, and ODST BDUs. Never have you known someone so reliable, so dependable, on and off the battlefield. She had given you a reason to try and love the stars again. 

You loved her. You were sure of it. If the happiness you felt near her that made your heart feel weightless wasn't love, then what was?

Which was why you were here, in the most secluded part of the ship staring out to the stars. Trying to reclaim what the Covenant took from you. Trying to be human in spite of all you've lost so you could see what you've gained. Through adversity, you would rise to the stars.

"Enjoying the view?"

How Spartan-IIs managed to be so silent with that armor was a mystery. At least, you assumed they were if Naomi-010 was the example to go by. It stopped making you jump after the first month or so.

You grinned, though maybe it was forced. "Trying to. Maybe one day I can appreciate it again."

"I wondered where you were." She said as she stopped next to you, her visor reflecting the starlight outside the viewport. "I didn't see you at the mess hall."

You gave her a small apologetic smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I just completely lost track of the time. Anything good in the mess?"

"Nothing to write home about."

"Oh, good. Did I miss anything fun?"

Naomi huffed. "Dunn tried to arm wrestle me again."

"Again? Did you win?"

She hummed, flexing her bicep. "Was it ever a question?"

You chuckled. "A strong woman like you? Not for a second."

You paused, allowing a comfortable silence to fall before you managed the courage to finally say what you had always needed to. 

"Thank you."

The Spartan-II tilted her head. "What for?"

"For being here. For being my friend." Your hand knocked against hers. "For helping me to start believing in myself again."

Her fingers weaved between yours, gently squeezing. How her hand managed to be so warm in yours through the skin of her suit puzzled you. 

"But you did that yourself."

"You gave me the strength to try." You looked at her like she hung the stars in the night sky. "So, thank you, Naomi. For everything."

The Spartan traced soothing circles on the top of your palm with her thumb. "You know, I was thinking about what you said last week. About the dinner." 

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I want to! I just-" She paused, shifting her feet. "I just don't know how we would do this."

"I don't either." You smiled. "I've never been on a date before."

"Oh." She stiffened, and you could feel it through her hand that she had froze. "So, it's a date now?"

"Only-" You stuttered, coughing to hide it. "Only if you want it to be."

Naomi pulled her hand from yours, and for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line. Until she used the same hand to turn your head towards her, cupping your cheek. Her thumb gently patted your cheekbone.

"I'd love that, Y/N."

"That's great!" You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, the biggest smile in your life threatening to split your face in two. "I'm going to be honest with you, I have no idea how to cook."

"Oh, I know." She teased. "I've seen you burn your field rations."

"I'll figure something out then and let you know when it's time?"

"Sounds perfect." Her hand withdrew from your face and you missed the warmth immediately. "I'd love to stay, but I've got to run some maintenance on my armor. Going to be a little harder now that I'll be thinking of you."

You blushed at her straightforwardness. "I'll see you around?"

"Always."

Naomi turned to leave, her footsteps audible this time before they paused.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

You turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

You could tell she winked at you from beneath her helmet. "Don't keep a girl waiting."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You laughed to yourself as she walked away, leaning your head against the viewport glass as you were left alone with the stars. A soft tap against it brought your mind clarity. "Oh, Y/N." You whispered as your heart raced." You're a damn fool."

Thank you for being patient with me <3

Don't worry about chasing perfection, your readers appreciate your dedication and heart in every part you create with this story, you've got this!!

I've been so excited to read part IV and it took all my willpower to wait till I could type up my comments and thoughts. But here we go~

As a child, looking up to the night sky away from the expectations of home was the one thing that brought you peace. In that infinite black void, that never-ending sea of ink dotted by light, there was something more. Something more than the path chosen for you. There had to be, right? Space was so incomprehensibly vast

Backstory for the reader?? What chosen path? I love the tie in with space right off the bat!!!

At home, what was expected of you mattered more than you. Your own dreams, your own desires and goals, whatever they could have been, didn't matter. Everything you did was so you could join the UNSC, whether you wanted to or not. You needed to be perfect so you could go to OCS at Corbulo like your great-grandfather. You needed to be top of your class like your mother. You needed to be a fearless, unflinching leader like your father.

I’m screaming about this because omg do I relate with Raya being in the same boat as the reader

You were expected to be so much, but were never expected to just be a kid.

insert sad face

Then Arcadia was attacked, and you were left all alone.

D:

The cage was gone, but so was everything you had ever known. Your parents, your siblings, your home, everything you had ever lived and loved - all gone, violently taken away in a flash of plasma and a burst of blood. They did not grow older. Yet you were still here.

I- Excuse?? My heart just broke

you thought, that the fate your parents wanted was the one you would choose when you had nothing.

The irony of this happening though, the parents got their wish at what expense.

So you hid. Locked yourself away, forbid yourself from forming attachments to your troops, or you wouldn't be capable of leading them effectively.

I can only imagine the amount of people the reader saw die and how many troops they lost

Which brought you here. Gunnery Sergeant Y/N L/N. Youngest to make the rank, top of your class at Reach Naval Academy, and a lovestruck fool.

GOOD BE A LOVESTUCK FOOL. We are infact bad bitches.

It's funny. You never believed you could fall for someone.

And it was for the Spartan who deserves all the love <3333

you've kept your fair share of relationships secret during your time in the military.

Oh the drama, but yeah I like this little fact.

But when it came to you, after so long in the service, romance was just never in your cards.

LE GASP THE CARD CONNECTIONS

How could you love someone when war is all you've known for so long? Who would love you?

The person who also doesn’t think they capable of love. Oh, how tragic it is to love a Spartan

Then Naomi was assigned to your command. The Spartan-II with a golden soul and depth of humanity hidden behind a suit of armor and a childhood of military training.

*Screaming*

She had given you a reason to try and love the stars again.

Naomi loves the stars too *sobbing*

You loved her. You were sure of it. If the happiness you felt near her that made your heart feel weightless wasn't love, then what was?

I wish I could express the absolute sounds of excitement I’m making but I’m kicking my feet

How Spartan-IIs managed to be so silent with that armor was a mystery. At least, you assumed they were if Naomi-010 was the example to go by.

Oooo so Naomi is the only Spartan they’ve met

"I wondered where you were." She said as she stopped next to you, her visor reflecting the starlight outside the viewport. "I didn't see you at the mess hall."

Dfvujsvkjhn bbygirl came looking for us!?

She hummed, flexing her bicep. "Was it ever a question?"

She’s funny, I love her. Look at Naomi being kinda human

"But you did that yourself."

I feel like Naomi is your own personal cheerleader

"You gave me the strength to try." You looked at her like she hung the stars in the night sky. "So, thank you, Naomi. For everything."

I hate that this feels like a goodbye and I’m scared.

"Oh." She stiffened, and you could feel it through her hand that she had froze. "So, it's a date now?"

Dude shut up, I’m screaming!! They are dorks in love

Naomi pulled her hand from yours, and for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line. Until she used the same hand to turn your head towards her, cupping your cheek. Her thumb gently patted your cheekbone.

THE GASP THAT JUST COME OUT, SCREAMING, CRYING, CHOCKING, THROWING UP

"I'd love that, Y/N."

Fcvsjdncebfc. Good. I’m so normal about this

You blushed at her straightforwardness. "I'll see you around?"

"Always."

Bbygirl always has her partner’s back

You could tell she winked at you from beneath her helmet. "Don't keep a girl waiting."

SCREAMING, SHE’S BEING ALITTLE FLIRT

A soft tap against it brought your mind clarity. "Oh, Y/N." You whispered as your heart raced." You're a damn fool."

ME AND YOU BOTH, OMG.

I just want you to know I bite my lip so hard that I split it :)))

I’m loving the direction this is going!! I’m excited to see how their date goes but also see how their relationship develops with the war and everything.

[lboogie1906]

Sergeant Major Edgar R. Huff (December 2, 1919 – May 2, 1994) was the first African American in the Marine Corps to be promoted to the rank of sergeant major. He served in WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War.

He was a native of Gadsden, Alabama, and enlisted in the Marine Corps on September 24, 1942, as one of the first African Americans to do so. He received his recruit training with the 51st Composite Defense Battalion, Montford Point Camp, New River, North Carolina. Following graduation, he joined the 155mm gun battery of the 51st Composite Defense Battalion and served as a gun commander.

In early 1943, he was assigned duty under instruction at drill instructor school, and upon completion of his course, was assigned duty as a drill instructor in March 1943. At that time, Montford Point Camp was the receiving point for all African Americans entering the Marine Corps, and by November 1944, he had been assigned duty as field sergeant major of all recruit training at the Montford Point Camp.

In November 1944, he was promoted to the first sergeant and assigned duty with the 5th Depot Company, departing for the Western Pacific area, and serving as a first sergeant with this unit in Saipan, Okinawa, and North China. The 5th Depot Company furnished logistic support for Marine divisions in that area. Gilbert Johnson, the only other African American sergeant major besides him to serve during WWII, was his brother-in-law. They were married to twin sisters.

Following WWII, he served as a Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge of Recruit Training at Montford Point Camp until May 1949. He was assigned duty as a guard and infantry chief, at Marine Barracks, Naval Ammunition Depot, Earle, New Jersey, until May 1951, at which time he assumed duty with the famed 1st Marine Division in Korea. He saw combat as a company gunnery sergeant with the 2nd Battalion 1st Marines and participated in operations in the “Punch Bowl” area, the eastern front, and in the spring-summer offensive on the West Central front. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[adacatlovelace]

Fuck it, edibles are kicking in and I need to vent. Do not join the fucking military. This is from a veteran. This is me opening up my closet to reveal my long abandoned clown outfit to tell you why you should not join the circus. If you are on tumblr dot com, regardless of your politics, and are thinking of joining the US military, you need to hear this. (I cant speak personally for other militaries, but I would not be surprised if many of these things ring true for them as well)

First off, built in class system! If you dont know, from the very beginning, there have always been a divide between "Officers" and "Enlisted." Officers are your Ensigns, Lieutenants, Captains, Commanders, Colonels, Generals and Admirals. They are staffed by the wealthy. Plain and simple, and this is how its been since the start. Today this is enforced through requiring a college diploma. What kind? Any kind. Its a common joke that you can have a degree in Underwater Basket Weaving. It simply exists so all those poor people who need the military for the GI bill are barred from leadership positions. Yes, there are a few Enlisted to officer paths, but best case scenario you are so far behind Ensign John "I got a college education but was still stupid/evil enough to join the military" Fuckface that you will never catch up and you'll be the old person fighting against a bunch of young right wing white dudes for promotions. As a super cool gamer bonus, theres a class system within that class system. You have the normal stinky college graduates who usually get in through the ROTC program and the academy graduates. With few exceptions, they are the ones who become Admirals and Generals.

Then you have your enlisted. These are your privates, seaman (heehee), airman, sergeants, petty officers, corporals, sergeants, petty officers, Chiefs, Master Chiefs, Gunnery Sergeants, etc. They are, by and large, the poor. Dont worry, theres more class divide here too. To give this incoherent rambling some semblance of structure I will be taking you through explaining the naval enlisted experience.

So first off, it begins with you taking your ASVAB. This determines what jobs will be available to you. Do well enough, one of those cool tech jobs thats been pushed on you. Did you not receive a good education? Is english maybe your second language and you struggle with it? Well, you'll end up as a cook, gunners mate, boatsmans mate. Jobs or "Rates" or "MOS"s that have two things in common: whole lotta grunt work, not a lot of advancement.

So then its off to visit MEPS.

What is supposed to be a government oversight system is really just your first step into dehumanization. Are you one of the people who are barred from military duty due to health reasons? Well, guess what? Your recruiter will be super helpful in getting you in anyway. You'll likely be coached on keeping your mouth shut, and the only way you get caught is if you break and tell someone about your disabilities. Or you die. More on that later!

The military is unofficially heavily pushed on people who have autism. People on the autism spectrum often have difficulty adjusting to adult life, and the narrative that is given is "The added structure of a military life can be helpful to people who have autism."

However, with good reason, it is ILLEGAL to recruit people with certain disorders due to the intense trauma and stress associated with being in the military, especially during a time where military members are overworked, underpaid, and are constantly having to fight tooth and nail to get the benefits they were promised.

Now, dont get me wrong, this isn't me disparaging the abilities of neuroatypical people, some do find their niche working in the imperial war machine, but what often happens is the things they struggle with get amplified and made the target for harassment and threats of violence. That, combined with the fact that people on the autistic spectrum usually score well on the ASVAB, means a lot of them are pushed towards Nuclear engineering on subs. The jobs that happen to have nearly the highest suicide rate in the navy.

So lets say you have something like asthma. By all means you should not join because recruits die in basic training and die often. About once a month, theres another recruit who falls down dead and leadership throws there hands in the air like "ohhhh how could we see this happening AGAIN, its all those recruits faults for lying on their enlistment" never asking the actual question of how its so easily and unofficially encouraged to lie to MEPS.

So you go to meps, or more specifically, you go to a hotel overnight and go to MEPS early as possible. There you will be poked prodded, and forced to strip down into your underwear with over a dozen other recruits and made to do various humiliating things like the "duck walk" to prove your joints work or something. Then afterwards you meet with with a usually 80 year old doctor who looks at your butthole (to check for hemorrhoids) and will limp wristedly grill you to find out if theres anything . You'll also pee with a stranger staring directly at your genitals, which will be the first of many urinalysis you will be taking in your military career. Your recruiter will likely make a big deal about not saying anything during the "Moment of Truth" where you are promised amnesty for lying (there wont be) but really it will likely be someone say "Anyone lie? Nows your chance to come forward. No? Okay"

So, lets say you are one of those unlucky people who do badly on the ASVAB. You'll usually be pushed towards the PACT jobs, which is "Undesignated Seaman/Airman/Fireman" depending on if you go Surface, Air or Engineering. Your recruiter will likely tell you that this is program meant to let you explore career options and if you cant get the job you want, its a good way to get that job. This is a lie. Not only can you just straight up NOT get certain jobs through the PACT program, but the jobs that will be available (Upon completing two years in the program) will be basically the same ones you were offered by your recruiter. Your life for the next two years will be working long hours in the hot sun and being treated like the lowest of the low.

So say you are lucky enough to score high on one of those tech jobs you think are so cool. Well, the schooling for them is incredibly long so you gotta sign a 2 year extension (regardless if your school actually takes that long or not)

So its off to bootcamp for you. Its designed to suck and boy howdy does it suck. So best case scenario you go through 2 months of hell, getting so little sleep you will find yourself falling asleep while standing up. Between the intensive activities and other recruits who drank too much of the koolaid trying to screw your over for their own personal sense of "integrity" aka "I dont want to get yelled at for your mistakes" it will bring out the absolute worst in you. Oh and just because you are still getting too much sleep, you'll also need to stand watch for 4 hours during the day or 2 hours at night. Have fun with that!

If you fail to meet certain metrics, you will be held back a week or two in training. At this point, you'll be made to call your parents, say "I am being held back in training, my new graduation date is ____" and then immediately hang up. You'll then be taken from your division and any friends you've made and put into a new one. Dont worry though, your new drill instructor will know you've been held back and will immediately put you on their shitlist.

Worst case scenario, you get injured. This happens A LOT. The sheer amount of physical excersize you will do can wreck havoc on your body and if you are unlucky enough to not know how to safely run or what have you, you'll might just end up with a stress fracture, shin splints, torn ACL, or worse. At this point, you need to make a decision: You can either hide your injury and make it out of bootcamp before getting treated, or you go to medical and, if they dont just give you ibuprofen without actually looking at whats going on, you'll end up with an early separation. You spend several months in holding before you get seperated without receiving any of the benefits you were promised and a brand new health problem that you likely dont have insurance to cover.

So you make it out of bootcamp, then its off to A school (Unless you went PACT, in which case you get a 1 week course and then go directly to a ship). Almost without exception, A school commands can be the most miserable places to be in the military. Especially the longer ones. Between sharing a room with up to five people, inspected by someone who failed out of drill instructor school and ended up with a babysitting job and they are 100% gonna make your problem, the miserable schooling, its no wonder that this is where many sailors start their lifelong nicotine addiction and alcohol abuse (Those that dont just kill themselves at least. Every week you'll likely see an ambulance outside a barracks.) Imagine the workload of college without the resources afforded to you by colleges. Thats what some of these schools are like, and they will take no time in reminding you just how much you should be thanking your lucky stars to be being dehumanized in school before you are further. Did you miss standing watch in bootcamp? Well dont you worry, there are plenty (completely and utterly pointless) watches you will be spending hours upon hours of your time standing (sometimes literally!) watches that are completely useless for security, but is meant to teach you how to stand watch. Like you did in bootcamp. Except watches in the fleet are completely different.

Then its off to the fleet! Say you joined to see Japan. Thats great! The navy wants you in japan! You can go to japan if you want to! They wont tell you the reason they want you in japan is that no one wants to be in japan. You'll likely see very little of the actual Japan, between being out to see for months at a time and being too exhausted to go out during the week or two you have in port, you'll likely spend your time either in your barracks, or getting drunk at The Honch.

Okay so say you want to go to places like Rota, Spain. Good luck with that! You'll get a wishlist of places you want to go but its basically just toilet paper. Enjoy Norfolk Virginia, where you will hate life.

So you're on your ship and ready to start applying those skills you picked up during your schooling. Well, just hold your horses buster, it would be too logical to let you start your on the job training with the information from school still fresh in your mind. Instead you get to participate in one of the navy's oldest traditions, Cranking.

So the military doesn't want to assign more people to cooking for and feeding the crew. Thats where you as a fresh faced boot come in. For three months, you will be a "Food Service Attendant" and have the honor of working from hard from as early as 4am to as late as 9pm. Dont worry about falling behind on your qualifications you need to complete, your still expected to do them on top of your duties as an FSA. So time to sleep, socialize, and otherwise decompress is a precious commodity.

After this, and another 4 years of hating your life, you can get out and start using those benefits you were promised. Use them while you can, because as much as politicians love courting veteran votes, they love slashing benefits for veterans even more.

So, say you stay in. You play the game and make it to that senior enlisted position. You get to join The Chiefs Mess, one of the oldest good ol boys clubs in existence. Complete with a cult like indoctrination program! (Search up "Chief season" for some truly WACKY stories) At which point, you are pretty much set for life as the Chiefs look out for each other. On a semi-related note, what do you consider it to be when a Chief has sex with a junoir enlisted, whos lives and career they have almost complete control of. Many people would describe that as rape. Not the navy though! They call that "Fraternization" and the victim is made to be even more at fault than the Chief who should "know better" Fun fact! The results of every Captains Mast/ Non-judicial punishment are published for all to see every month and almost without fail theres "Fraternization between E-7 and E-3" where the E-3 victim is slapped with 45 days restriction and 45 days half pay with a reduction in rank, while the E-7 gets a "Letter of Reprimand" which everyone acts like is a massive career ender, but many simply go to a differant command and still climb the ladder, and worst case, they simply retire with all the benefits and acclaim that they've "earned"

Now that I've taken you through your experience as an enlisted, lets end things on a cool fun gamer bonus fact: The US military doesn't allow beards. Now this may seem reasonable, but you look at other militarys and see they have beards and you ask "why cant we have them" and the answer you will get is "They interfere with SCBA masks ability to form a seal" which has something that has been completely disprove multiple times, and seems at odds with the fact that they still grant religious exceptions.

Now there was a time, pre-2016 where this wasn't so big of a deal. Yeah it sucked, but it was pretty easy to get a no-shave chit to be allowed to have a beard. This changed to only allow people with a medical (or religious exemption) to have a beard. No big deal, go to medical, get a no shave chit for your razor bumps, and your set. Except no, that changed too recently. Now if you have a medical reason to not shave, you can only have a no-shave chit for so long before you either have to go back to shaving and getting ingrown hairs, or get laser hair removal.

Now, to an outsider, this may not seem like so big a deal. Beards aren't really that important are they? Surely its just something the enlisted side has latched onto to bitch about right? Well, only by experiencing the military do you realize just how much emphasis they put in being clean shaven. If you fail to shave or dont shave well enough, you WILL get hassled by someone. Not shaving its the quickest way to get known as a "shitbag" and be treated as such.

Now to show why this is a problem and not just baseless complaining about having to put work into appearing "Professional" like its made out to be, we need to talk Pseudofolliculitis Barbae, aka "Ingrown hairs from shaving" This is something that affects many, many people, but mostly affects black men. A LOT of black men. So for no valid reason, if you suffer from this, your choices are to continue getting ingrown hairs or to have completely unnecessary surgery. Put two and two together for why this beard policy still exists.

Fuck the military, fuck what it does, fuck how it kills to promote american imperialism, fuck what it does to people, fuck how it much it sits on its hands and lets horrible shit happen. I didn't even go into how much bigotry still flourishes despite the constant lip service. Fuck how many times I had to hear "Male or female.. or whatever you identify as" in a tone like they just through up in their mouth a little bit from senior enlisted. Fuck how they treat people and fuck how they continue to turn a blind eye to death and abuse so that the rich can get richer.

DO

NOT

JOIN

THE

MILITARY

[lonestarbattleship]

USS Saratoga (CV-3) during aerial gunnery practice off Diamondhead, Oahu HI, circa January 6-7, 1937.

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command: NH 86083

[heresthefanfiction]

Carolyn Gibbs

General

Full Name: Carolyn Ann Gibbs

Nicknames: Carrie

Undercover Identity: Lauren Bauer

Age: 34[Season 7/8], 38[Season 12]

Date of Birth: May 8, 1976

Occupation: Marine Gunnery Sergeant [former],

NCIS Probationary Agent [Rhode Island Office, former],

NCIS Agent Afloat [USS Hornet, former],

Undercover NCIS Agent [former],

NCIS Special Agent [Washington DC Naval Yard, Major Case Response Team, former],

NCIS Supervisory Special Agent [Washington DC Naval Yard, Major Case Response Team, current]

Gender and Pronouns: Cisgender female, she/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Faceclaim: Tracy Spiradakos

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Blue-green

Height: 5'6"

Fandom: NCIS

Connections

Familial Connections: Amy Jacobs[mother], Leroy Jethro Gibbs[father], Shannon Gibbs[stepmother, deceased], Kelly Gibbs[younger sister, deceased], Bailey Gibbs[daughter, adopted], Ella Gibbs[daughter, adopted],

Joann Fielding[grandmother], Mac Fielding[grandfather], Jackson Gibbs[grandfather, deceased], Ann Gibbs[grandmother, deceased],

Diane Sterling[ex-stepmother, deceased], Rebecca Chase[ex-stepmother], Stephanie Flynn[ex-stepmother]

Romantic Connections: Amber Heise [girlfriend, deceased], Avery Mohl [wife]

Platonic Connections: Ben Alvarez[best friend, deceased], Maddie Tyler[friend], Anthony Dinozzo[best friend], Timothy McGee[close friend], Eleanor Bishop[close friend]

Hostile Connections: Sergei Mishnev

Affiliations: United States Marine Corp[member], NCIS[agent]

Misc.

Species: Human

Nationality: American

Spoken Language(s): English[first language], German[second language], Russian[third language], Spanish[in progress]

Religion: N/A

Education Level: Highschool Diploma

Economic Status: Middle Class

Pinterest

[jamesfitzjamesdotcom]

Admiral Sir John Fisher

For an essay I learnt about Admiral Sir John Fisher (1841-1920), who is mostly remembered for his revolutionary Dreadnought battleship design. While I don't understand technical ship & gunnery stuff (really shot myself in the foot with my essay topic here), it was interesting to read about him as a person. Quite a character!

[John Fisher as a naval cadet in the late 1850s]

There even is a Franklin Expedition connection:

"I was chosen by Admiral Sir Leopold McClintock, the great Arctic Explorer, to be his Flag Captain on the North American Station, in the "Northampton," then a brand new ship. He again was a splendid man and his kindness to me is unforgettable. He had gone through great hardships in the Arctic — once he hadn't washed for 179 days. He was like a rare old bit of mahogany; and I was told by an admirer of his that when the thermometer was 70 degrees below zero he found the ship so stuffy that he slept outside on the ice in his sleeping bag."

- John Arbuthnot Fisher Memories, by Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Fisher, 1919 pp. 143-144

[clove-pinks]

HMS Excellent, 108 Guns, 1834–1835 (Art UK). The former first-rate line of battle ship served as a gunnery training school for decades of Royal Navy midshipmen.

Like his eighteenth-century counterpart, the early Victorian naval instructor does not seem to have featured prominently in the histories of the period, although he occasionally appears in biographies and memoirs and is invariably remembered with affection. Commodore J G Goodenough was taught by Naval Instructor William Johnstone, 'a man of cultivation and ability who possessed the rare talent of not only teaching well but of inspiring his pupils with interest in and liking for their studies'. Admiral John Moresby related brief details of his studies on board the gunnery ship HMS Excellent in 1849 where, 'under the poop was the mathematical study for all officers and here a menagerie of diverse pupils confronted dear old Stark, our Scottish instructor'. He also served in HMS Caledonia under the tuition of 'the most lovable of naval instructors' Michael Rainback, a man much admired and teased by his pupils and 'who might have served Dickens for the original of Mr Pickwick'.

— H. W. Dickinson, Educating the Royal Navy: Eighteenth- and Nineteenth-Century Education for Officers

HMS Caledonia (1808) in two positions, by William Innes Pocock (NMM). This first-rate ship also had a secondary career, renamed Dreadnought and converted to a hospital ship in 1856.

[ltwilliammowett]

The Battle of Trafalgar - a brief timeline

At 6am on 21 October 1805, the two fleets sighted each other and at 6.40am Nelson gave the order to ‘prepare for battle’. The French were sailing in line off Cape Trafalgar, while the British came in from the west, gradually forming two lines. The British fleet was outnumbered, the enemy totalling nearly 30,000 men and 2632 guns to Nelson’s 18,000 men and 2148 guns.

Plan of Lord Horatio Nelson's attack strategy (1758-1805), on the combined fleet (France and Spain), October 21, 1805 (Battle of Trafalgar). Lithograph (27 x 36.7 cm), published by Robert Dodd, 1805, England

At 11.45am Nelson ordered a special signal to be flown from his flagship Victory. It read: ‘England expects that every man will do his duty’. The signal was greeted with delight by the fleet.

Finally, at 11.50am, French commander Pierre-Charles-Jean-Baptiste-Silvestre de Villeneuve sent the signal ‘engage the enemy’. The French vessel Fougueux fired the first shots at Vice-Admiral Cuthbert Collingwood’s flagship, Royal Sovereign. The battle had begun. Collingwood was the first to reach the enemy line, firing a broadside into one of the Spanish flagships, Santa Anna. The ships in his division followed him, approaching in a slanting line, spreading the force of the impact and enveloping the allied rear as Nelson had intended.

HMS Victory, by Patrick O'Brien (1960-)

Nelson meanwhile headed towards the great Spanish ship, Santissima Trinidad, but spotting that Villeneuve was flying his flag on the Bucentaure, the next ship astern, he ordered Flag Captain Thomas Hardy to attack her first. The Victory passed under the stern, firing a broadside as she went, giving the Bucentaure a knockout blow.

As the Victory moved on she became entangled in the Redoutable, and the two ships drifted away. This created a large gap in the Franco-Spanish line through which Nelson’s division then poured, splitting the enemy fleet in two – again, exactly as Nelson intended.

Breaking the Line, by Patrick O'Brien (1960-)

The battle developed into a ferocious pounding match but the British had the advantage thanks to Nelson’s strategic pre-planning and the fact his men were better trained in delivering rapid, accurate gunnery. When firing finally ceased at 5.30pm, 17 enemy ships had been captured and another was a blazing wreck. Four managed to escape but were captured a few weeks later, and 11 managed to struggle back to Cadiz.

A total of 449 British sailors were killed and 1217 wounded. French and Spanish losses were heavier: 4408 were dead, 2545 wounded and some 20,000 taken prisoner.

Britain’s decisive victory was overshadowed by news of the death of Nelson, who was shot onboard Victory at 1.15pm and died at 4.30pm. The triumph was further eclipsed by a fierce storm that raged after the battle, forcing the British to abandon most of their captured enemy ships.

The Battle of Trafalgar, 21 Ocotober 1805, by unknown

News of Trafalgar reached London a fortnight later in the early hours of 6 November 1805. Public rejoicing for the victory was muted by widespread sorrow for the death of Nelson. As a reward for Trafalgar, Collingwood was made a baron, all the captains received the official Naval Gold Medal and a special grant of money was made by the government to all those who had taken part. This was to compensate them for the prize money they lost when their captured vessels sank in the storm.

The Battle of Trafalgar cemented Britain’s reputation as ruler of the seas and demonstrated that the Royal Navy had superiority in training, professionalism and expertise in naval tactics that set it apart from its rivals. By 1809 there were over 140,000 men serving on 732 ships, more than ever before.

However, the victory at Trafalgar had little overall impact on the course of the war. Napoleon needed more to be stopped.

[usafphantom2]

#onthisday in 1939 a Blackburn Skua of No. 803 Naval Air Squadron operating from HMS Ark Royal scored the Fleet Air Arm's first aerial victory of #worldwar2, shooting down a Dornier Do 18.

@classicwarbirds via X

Blackburn Skua

Responding to the release of Air Ministry specification O.27/34 which requested designs for a naval dive-bomber, Blackburn along with Avro, Boulton Paul, Hawker and Vickers all submitted designs, however it would be Blackburn's Skua design which would see service and two prototypes were ordered during April 1935. The Skua design was revolutionary for the Fleet Air Arm for as well as being the country's first naval dive-bomber it would also be the first carrier aircraft to be of monoplane design.

The Skua would have a two man crew and featured folding wings, back along the fuselage, and both prototypes would be powered by the 840-hp Bristol Mercury IX engine, with the 9th February 1937 seeing the maiden flight of the first prototype. Prior to this 190 aircraft had been ordered in July 1936 under Specification 25/36.

Before being sent to the Aeroplane and Armament Experimental Establishment at Martlesham Heath the Skua would make an appearance at the RAF Display, Hendon on the 26th June 1937 and then on the 28th June 1937 at Hatfield at the Society of British Aerospace Companies display. Early reports from the A&AEE gave promising feedback of the Skua's handling and after gunnery trials the aircraft was sent to Gosport for ditching trials. The 4th May 1938 would see the first flight of the second prototype. The two prototypes would be designated Skua Mk I.

The Skua was a year behind schedule and to help speed up the production process some of the work was sub-contracted and due to the Bristol Blenheim receiving priority on the Mercury engine the Skua would instead be powered by the 890-hp Bristol Perseus XII and the 190 aircraft ordered were known as Skua Mk IIs. The 28th August 1938 saw the first production Skua Mk II fly at Brough and had a few minor changes to its design.

The Blackburn Skua Mk II had a top speed of 225 mph, range of 760 miles with a service ceiling of 20,200 ft. Armament was four 0.303-in machine-guns with one rear firing Lewis gun. Bomb load was 500lb. The Skua Mk II would enter Fleet Air Arm service in November 1938 when No. 800 Naval Air Squadron received theirs whilst No. 803 Naval Air Squadron received theirs in December 1938 where they would replace Hawker Nimrods and Hawker Ospreys serving aboard HMS Ark Royal (91). They would be followed by No. 801 Naval Air Squadron and No. 806 Naval Air Squadron which was formed during February 1940. These four squadrons being the only frontline ones that would operate the type.

It was No. 803 Naval Air Squadron who scored the Fleet Air Arm's first aerial success during the Second World War (1939 - 1945) whilst operating from HMS Ark Royal (91) when on the 26th September 1939 just off Heligoland, Germany they shot down a Dornier Do 18. The Skua showed its potential in the dive-bombing role when sixteen from Nos. 800 and 803 Naval Air Squadron flying from RNAS Hatston attacked and sank the German cruiser Konigsberg on the 10th April 1940 at Bergen harbour, Norway. Although the mission saw the loss of one aircraft. The Skua would also be involved in the Battle of France (10th May 1940 - 25th June 1940) when on the 31st May 1940 No. 801 Naval Air Squadron Skuas attacked pontoon bridges over the Nieuwpoort-Dunkirk Canal, France.

No. 801 Naval Air Squadron based at RAF Detling also flew a number of sorties to support the evacuation of Allied troops from Dunkirk, France, Operation Dynamo (26th May 1940 - 4th June 1940), alongside the Blackburn Roc, however the Roc and Skua by this time were obsolete. Whilst the Skua could compete with Axis bombers it didn't stand a chance against the modern fighters and as a result was removed from frontline service in 1941. The squadrons that operated Skuas were given newer aircraft with the Fairey Fulmar equipping Nos. 800 and 806 Naval Air Squadron whilst the Hawker Sea Hurricane equipped Nos. 801 and 803 Naval Air Squadron. After this the aircraft would be used as a target tug or for training.

In total 192 Blackburn Skuas were built.

Technical Details

500lb bombs

Click on the aircraft image to view a larger version.

Top Speed Range Service Ceiling Armament

Skua Mk I Designation given to the two prototypes.

Skua Mk II 225 mph 760 miles 20,200 ft four 0.303-in machine-guns

one Lewis gun