Chapter 5

While Eddie and Al had spent all weekend on the beach, when the ship prepared to get underway that same morning, Chief Nolan found mail on his bunk. One was from Carol, and it was nearly a carbon copy of her last, except for no pictures of Breeanne’s graduation. The next one was from Captain Lorna Phillips, US Army, just telling him things were going well and had enclosed a copy of her first ultrasound. Gender was still indeterminate, but everything seemed normal. He later showed the letter and the image to Al. Last, but not least was from Steven. He might as well have printed it in large capital letters, but he seemed over the moon that he’d managed to break down the defenses of the new-mother MILF. According to Steven, after the first time, which she felt guilty for, she nearly raped him the four subsequent times, so far. It appeared that her husband had left for sea just as she was getting the go ahead to resume sex, after the birth of their baby, so the young mother was hornier than hell and Steven had what it took to scratch her itch. In the time her husband would be gone, Eddie hoped Steven didn’t knock her up again. Steven also assured his dad that he was taking care of his sisters, though he was starting to feel the strain. He also mentioned there was no further news on his mother, though she continued to see Veronica Brady. All in all, with the exception of the young MILF, the status quo continued.

Now that Eddie’s frigate was underway again, it would shift from doing exercises with the Royal Australian Navy, to joining up with units of the Royal New Zealand Navy. Prosecuting war games on the western side of the North and South Island, they eventually moved to the east side, wending their way toward their first port visit, which was Auckland. Auckland was a large metropolitan area accessible from both the eastern and western side of the North Island, though the main city center was closer to the eastern side. Mooring alongside a pier near the New Zealand Maritime Museum, the ship was readily accessible to the downtown area. Eddie was getting close to being broke, and the next payday would occur just before leaving port. For this reason, he had no plans to leave the ship for any serious reasons.

Eddie had never considered what advanced planning went into any port visit. He’d always assumed it ‘just happened’. Granted, most of the ‘regular’ liberty ports had long-standing affiliations with the port or city, and those same entities did well, financially, when a U.S. Navy ship came in, to say nothing of the drinking and whoring establishments. For ports which are less frequently visited, there’s an ‘advanced party’ sent out from ComSeventhFleet, to set up such things as Customs, and Immigration papers, possible cultural activities offered to visiting Naval personnel, any diplomatic visitations, and liaison with local law enforcement, just in case. For Eddie’s first time, he met a junior officer assigned to their advanced party. Lieutenant Junior Grade (Ltjg) Russ Hornby came aboard as part of the advance party entourage, and wandered into the chiefs’ mess, asking permission to ‘hang out’ for a while. Being a junior officer, he was superfluous among his superiors presently attending briefings in the wardroom. At the time, there were only four chiefs in the mess, and they were happy to invite him in. During their discussions, the chiefs became more aware of what it took to make a port visit, especially to a port not on the frequently traveled list. Mr. Hornby’s unplanned visit was informative and enjoyable, and though the junior officer didn’t have many ‘sea stories’, his gift for gab related several funny anecdotes concerning prior advanced party endeavors, not only for New Zealand, but throughout the South Pacific.

It was from Russ, Eddie heard of the activity planned for the following evening. I formal Soiree was scheduled, and would be attended by all Officers, chiefs and PO1s, not in a duty status. It was a diplomatically important event and 7^th Fleet wanted maximum participation. It didn’t faze Eddie because he hadn’t planned on hitting the beach anyway. It was a way to be wined and dined on someone else’s budget. Of course, there were some grumbling and grousing from some other E-7s and E-6s. What was different for Eddie was it was to be full dress. Except for a few Personnel Inspections, he’d rarely had the opportunity to dress up in medals. In support of this evolution, local cleaning establishments had been contracted to do a quick turnaround; cleaning and pressing of uniforms. Since this was fall, the uniforms would be blues, which Eddie agreed would be easier. Whites are prone to staining, and though they are impressive, one is still paranoid about spills and splashes. Eddie was quick to break out his dress blues, as they had worn their whites, or khakis while in uniform above the equator and in Australia.

All the next day, it seemed like Prom, as Officers, chiefs and First-Class POs primped and polished. The lower ranks teased them, calling them prima donnas. The Captain and Executive Officer went by car, and everyone else traveled in two buses. By the time it was announced that transportation was waiting on the pier, all attendees walked gingerly to the bus, afraid to brush up against anything dusty, or scuff their brilliantly shined shoes. The bus ride took only ten minutes and again, ginger movement was the order of the day. Once inside the venue, the officers all acted like they belonged there, but the atmosphere seemed very stuffy for the enlisted sailors. The greeting line was almost painful for Eddie and his cohorts. The first portion of the evening was a ‘meet and greet’ with waiters carrying trays of champagne, or ginger ale, if the attendee wasn’t drinking. There was also the ubiquitous punchbowl with a fruity colored liquid of undetermined alcoholic content.

The hosts, obviously U.S. embassy personnel and New Zealand diplomats, and their female companions, were mature, the ladies considered ‘blue hairs’ The female civilian attendees seemed on the younger side. Eddie estimated the ages ranged from late teens to mid-twenties. When they made opening announcements, he wasn’t surprised to hear the young women attended a local ‘finishing school’ named after some long-dead matriarch. The officers were tripping over themselves, trying to impress the ladies with their uniforms. Some of the younger PO1s were doing likewise. The ‘older’ enlisted exerted extreme patience with it all. Eddie assumed the powers-that-be thought the senior enlisted personnel would not act like the total horndogs people expected sailors to be. Eddy nearly laughed out loud, and Al gave him a disapproving look.

As the social hour continued, everyone seemed to be in a constant state of flux, as they seemed to move from one cluster of humanity to another. When they had entered, the welcoming staff had written each attendee’s name on an adhesive name tag and placed it in a visible location on each person. As individuals drifted from group to group, people would automatically glance down at the name tag and used that to greet one another. Eddie had noticed a group of young women glancing at each nametag they saw on a chief. The group had spread out to cover more ground. As one of them came near Eddie, he noticed she did a double take at his name tag, then looking him in the eye and smiling, seemed to rush off and contact the others of the group. Soon, a half dozen young women came up to Eddie, partially surrounding him. The seeming leader addressed Eddie:

“Chief Nolan, would you honor us by sitting at our table for dinner?”

“Ladies, the honor is all mine. I would be pleased to sit with you.” he suavely replied.

Amid smirks and giggles, another of the group said:

“When it’s time, we’ll come and get you. Thank you.” she blushed.

Eddie continued to circulate and contacted Al a couple times. The junior officers thought they were impressive in their uniforms, but the amount of ‘bric-a-brac’ on the breast of a chief’s uniform usually drew more attention. Al’s uniform was more impressive than Eddie’s since he had earned more ribbons and medals from being assigned to Marine units in the field. Still, Eddie was no slouch, the most noteworthy of his awards being the Navy Achievement Medal, the Battle Efficiency ribbon with three ‘E’s, his expert rifle and pistol medal and his Enlisted Surface Warfare pin (his was silver, where an officers was gold). Of course, there were his ‘geedunk’ ribbons: National Defense and Sea Service. Lastly, three stars on a deep maroon ribbon, the ribbon itself, and each succeeding star representing ‘four years of undetected crime’, a.k.a. Good Conduct award. The latter recognition was duplicated by his chiefs’ crow and four service stripes (hash marks) in gold on the arm of his dress jacket. Finally, there was the sound of a gong, signaling dinner was about to be served.

Eddie had noticed the officers had tried pairing up with a woman of their choosing, and they were now herding them to tables along with other officers. He’d noticed at least two of the young women who’d asked him to sit with them shake their head at what he perceived to be an invitation from a junior officer. He had little time to be amused, as he was immediately surrounded by six young women, who took his arm and escorted him to a table they were either assigned or had camped out. There was one vacant seat and Eddie saw Al heading in his direction, but an older woman, likely a teacher or supervisor claimed it, and Eddie noted Al shearing off and looking for another table with vacant seats. The older woman addressed the table:

“Ladies, are we ganging up on one lonely sailor, when there are others around to join you? I’m sure, Mr., uh, Chief (reading his name tag) Nolan may feel picked upon. Do you, Chief?”

“Uh, they asked me earlier in the evening if I’d sit at their table. I have no idea why, but I was obliged to accept, they were so polite about it, uh, Miss...?” Eddie inquired.

“Mitchell ... Phyllis Mitchell.” she supplied.

“Well, Miss Mitchell, I was flattered that a group of stunning young ladies were interested in entertaining an old man like me.” he quipped.

“Hardly old, Chief Nolan.” she rebutted.

“Older than all, including yourself, Miss Mitchell.” he declared.

“Since there’s an open chair, I believe I need to claim it, so as to balance out the age range.” she stated, looking at the girls’ downcast eyes.

“By all means. It just adds to the combined beauty present at this table.” Eddie agreed.

“Please excuse me, while I check on some of the other tables.” she informed.

As soon as she stepped away from the table, Al swept in and sat in the chair, giving Eddie a snarky grin. Eddie noticed Miss Mitchell start back towards them, but seeing Al sitting in her chair, apparently decided he would tip the scales in the same direction she had been attempting to do, so she looked elsewhere for a seat.

“Ladies, this is Chief Al Tory, my best friend and compatriot. Al, ‘the ladies’!”

The young ladies may not have been too happy to see Al, but happier than they had been to see Miss Mitchell. Al tried to create an ‘ice breaker’:

“Ladies, you know who we are, but perhaps you’ll introduce yourselves, so we don’t need to address you as: Lady #1, Lady #2, etc.” he snickered.

Snickering along with him the women each pointed to their name tags, but still gave their names as if they believed Al couldn’t read. Eddie smiled broadly, since as they pointed to their name tags, they also drew attention to their individual size of endowment. The ladies were: Angel, Bethany, Tamera, Willow, Grady, and Felice.

“Thank you. Now, I know it’s impolite, but would you apprise us of your ages?” Al replied.

Speaking nearly on top of each other, Eddie and Al heard ages from nineteen to twenty-two.

“Thank you, again. As you may suspect, we’re much older than that, so why would you want to sit and eat with old men, almost old enough to be your father?” Eddie inquired.

“We were told that Chief Eddie Nolan worked magic.” Felice offered.

The comment hung there for ten minutes as waiters took individual food orders. After the waiters left to fulfil said orders, Eddie attempted to point out the fallacy in their information:

“I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t do magic tricks: I can’t make rabbits disappear, I don’t do card tricks, or pull coins out of your ears.”

“That’s not the magic we meant.” Tamera argued.

“Yes, we were told by a sailor, last night, about an Eddie Nolan, who could work magic on us.” Bethany confirmed.

Lowering her voice, so only the table could hear, Angel explained:

“We were told that Eddie Nolan could pull orgasms out of our pussies, make us squeal like wounded rabbits, and cause our socks to disappear by fucking them off of us. Now, that sounds like magic to us.” she smiled at her clever use of metaphors.

Eddie and Al were both speechless for seconds, then: