THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, October 23, 1996 TAG: 9610220383
SECTION: MILITARY NEWS PAGE: A10 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: AT SEA
SOURCE: BY CHARLES HULSE III
LENGTH: 72 lines
We're nearing port after a long 31 days at sea, and the excitement aboard Enterprise is reaching fever pitch.
Our last port visit was Rhodes, Greece, in early September. Since then, we've had two port calls canceled, raced through the Suez Canal and around the Arabian Peninsula, and steamed into the Persian Gulf while our airplanes enforced the no-fly zone over Iraq. The crew's eager for a break.
In a few hours we'll drop anchor. Sailors are talking of their plans. I have a personal mission this particular port visit; I had the same goal in Rhodes, but now I am better prepared. I'll soon have the chance to reach what I call ``33 minutes of absolute pleasure.''
The first day in port can be the longest. You work until the ship anchors, wait for ``liberty call'' to be announced, and finally deal with the line for the liberty boat to shore.
Shipmates eager to again feel land underfoot stay occupied by ironing their clothes or looking for a buddy who is also going ashore. Many write letters or talk of home over card games. I count what money I have to bring with me, and make sure that I have the one item that could make or break my port visit.
Once I'm sure I have it, I head up the berthing ladder to find my buddies, who live elsewhere on Enterprise.
None of us has been here before. In fact, it's the first time that an American aircraft carrier has visited Bahrain. I can see the excitement in my friends' eyes. Spirits are high, especially mine.
``Liberty call, liberty call.'' Those magic words over the ship's public address system send us scrambling for the hangar bay. The line isn't too long. As we wait, my thoughts drift to what I want to do, how happy I'll be doing it, and the peace I'll find when I'm finished.
We pile onto the liberty boat and, in a half-hour, we're stepping ashore. It feels great.
We follow the crowds up to the main road and my quest begins. It seems other sailors have the same idea - all around, they're lined up to get near that special something I seek. I try to stay calm, reminding myself that I'll get my chance before the end of the day.
To take my mind off things, my friends persuade me to window shop and check out the sights. I give in, but no matter how much they try to sidetrack me, I still look for my chance to achieve my goal.
The stores on the strip are nice, the prices reasonable - more so than the glamorous boutiques back home. When we reach the mall I grow bored and start to get impatient. I ask my friends to please, please, let me go do what I want to get done, and they finally give in. One sacrifices his shopping time to go with me, as the ``buddy system'' is the safest way, and the Navy way, to travel in a foreign country.
It doesn't take long to find what I was driving everyone batty about - an empty phone booth.
Sprinting for it, I grab the pre-paid phone card out of my wallet. As I punch in the PIN number, I pray that my wife is at work to answer my call. If she isn't, I'll do it all over again, and again after that, until I hear her sweet voice.
The phone rings a couple of times before she picks it up. Over tears of joy we catch each other up on what's going on and how much we miss each other. I am in heaven.
There are sailor phones on Enterprise, which we can use at sea to call stateside. They're a huge morale-booster for the crew, but like most things on a ship, there's not a lot of privacy when you use one. Now I have privacy, and a wonderful conversation with my wife.
It seems we'd been talking to each other for only five minutes when our two-minute warning came up. Saying goodbye and ``I love you,'' I hang up, finally relieved.
I have achieved my 33 minutes of absolute pleasure.
Talking with my wife has been the highlight of my month.
I never thought I'd be so glad to see a phone booth in my life. MEMO: Petty Officer 3rd Class Charles Hulse III is assigned to VA-75,
the Sunday Punchers. The events he describes here took place Oct. 7. by CNB