Tale of a Patriot Part One

by Grandpa Casey

CHAPTER THREE

  After signing the recruitment papers, I join the others. Under the Officer’s advisement, we all went into the room next door. Once inside, we each pick a cot and wait for morning to come. Some of the guys continue talking, but it didn’t take me long to doze off; it’s been a while since I slept in a bed. The next morning, after a breakfast of last night’s sandwiches, we board several wagons and travel to a camp near a shipyard. The Officer, from last night, was in my wagon and while traveling to the camp, he reminds the curious ones we will learn how to do everything the Navy’s way. He also mentions the training will be rigorous and sometimes dangerous. Everyone will receive training in everything that’s done aboard a ship, from how to climb to the top of the masts to properly swabbing the decks. I find it odd to think of washing the decks as valuable and needed training. I did sign up, so I guess I have to learn everything their way, whether I like it or not.  

  When we arrive, at the training center, the Officer tells us to stay with the wagon and wait while he goes to get our Instructor.  We waited for what seemed like hours.  The Instructor finally arrives and ushers us into a large room.  The room is to be our sleeping quarters while we are here.  I look around in amazement.  The room contains blankets hanging in neat rolls form several posts.  Each blanket has a wooden chest under it. 

  I ask the Instructor, “excuse me, Sir, are we supposed to sleep on the floor?  I don’t see any beds, just those hanging blankets with boxes under them.” 

  The Instructor replies, “Okay, listen up all of you, I’ll explain. Those boxes are to store your clothes; the hanging canvas is your bed. Each hanging canvas or blanket, as Joe calls it, is a hammock. It’s more comfortable than sleeping on the ship’s floor, which is hard as a rock. In the 1700s, the hammock is the standard bed for all the sailors, in all the world’s Navies. Before this happened, there were many accidents, even deaths. You can fall out of a bed, or receive injuries by rolling objects in rough seas. The hammock just sways from side to side. This swaying motion prevents you from falling. It can also rock you to sleep. Also, on a ship, every inch of space is important. By eliminating beds, the sailors can sleep above, the ammunition and supplies. This is also essential for merchant ships; more cargo means more money. For all ships, more supplies, such as water and food, means fewer stops needed to restock them. Now, any more questions? If you have them this is the time to ask.”

  Someone behind me asks, “Sir, I’ve never heard of hammocks, who invented them?”

  The Instructor replies, “Christopher Columbus introduced them to Europe. When he discovered, what we now call the Bahamas, he noticed the natives using hammocks to rest and sleep in. The hammocks help prevent unwanted critters from joining the natives, or doing worse to them, while they were asleep.” The Instructor points to me he says, “Joe, be my guest and hop into your new bed.” 

  Being sarcastic, I reply, “thank you. Since I didn’t sleep well last night, I could use a little nap, if that’s alright?” 

  The Instructor replies, “We’ll talk about that later.  Now go ahead, get in your bed, it’s an easy thing to do.  It shouldn’t be hard for someone as young and agile as you seem to be.  As for the rest of you, I want silence. Watch as Joe, who has never slept in a hammock before, shows us how to get in one.” 

  I let my ego get the better of me. I’ve always been athletic and figured this should be easy. Showing off, I jump headfirst onto the hammock; it slides out from under me and I belly flop on the floor. Luckily, for me, the Instructor kicks the box away before I land on it. I get up and regain my composure while looking at the smiling faces of the group. I turn to look at the hammock, and ponder what to do next. Joe your big mouth got you into this, now figure a way out. I walk around the hammock several times, and then I stop with my back to it and wait. No, I’m not trying to lull the hammock into a false sense of security; I just need time to think about my next move. Suddenly, I lunge at the hammock; this causes the same results, only this time the belly flop hurt. I try again, then again, and again, with pretty much the same results. I tried putTomg my leg in the hammock first, then lifTomg myself up; that caused me to fall on the floor with my leg stuck in the thing. I take a running start and try jumping on it, to straddle it like a horse. All that did was to cause the hammock to twirl around, with me on it. Upside down, with my legs tightly wrapped around the hammock, I desperately try to swing myself upright. Eventually, I lose my grip and fall on my head. You would think the clunk on my head would have knocked some sense into me, like admitTomg defeat. Well, you’re wrong; the snickering from the group just made me more determined to succeed. I try jumping across it; with no success, I then try getTomg into it butt first; but all I did was fall on that too. Finally, I lose it and pull out my knife. I quickly cut the ropes holding the hammock. As it falls to the floor, I straddle it and with both hands on my knife, I raise it over my head.

  As I prepare to strike a mortal blow to the hammock, I say, “I won’t let you defeat me. I don’t care if you are safer to sleep on, you’re going to DIE.”

  Now, instead of snickering, everyone starts laughing at my futile attempts to conquer the hammock. The Instructor was laughing so hard he almost didn’t stop me in time. I was inches from thrusTomg my knife into the hammock when he did. With rage still in my eyes, I turn around and sit on the hammock. When I realize how funny I must have looked, I shake my head and laugh with the others. After everyone quiets down, the Instructor shows us how to get into the hammock. He jumps up and grabs the rope, above the hammock, and lifts himself up into it. Everyone but me starts laughing again. My jaw dropped; I was in awe at how easy that was. I was so intent on getTomg into the hammock; I never noticed the rope above it. It took a while for the Instructor to settle us down. There was an important message, in this exercise, that he wanted to tell us.  

  Once we settled down the Instructor mentions, “MEN, when you’re fighTomg to control your piece of ground, never look just straight-ahead, when possible; always look at what’s around you. Looking behind you, when you can, is always a good idea. You may notice someone coming at you with a knife. Joe’s antics are a perfect example of being so focused on your task that you don’t realize what you see. If you don’t pay attention, then you may not live to see another day.” Then he looks at me and continues, “Joe, that rope was always there for you to use. If you didn’t focus so much on the hammock, I’m sure that you would have eventually figured that out and eliminated all that pain. Now all of you take the rest of the day to settle in. Pick a hammock and store your belongings in its related box. Before you go to sleep, take a bath. It’s been a long trip, and some of you smell like something the cat dragged in.” 

  We spent the rest of the day putTomg our belongings away and practicing how to get safely in and out of the hammock. For some it was a real problem. They were too short to grab the rope. Then someone came up with the idea of turning the box upside down, standing on it, and then grabbing the rope. We were told that we will be awakened early tomorrow to start our training. It was after dark when most of us went to sleep. I woke up the next day refreshed. I’m surprised at how comfortable the hammock is. I dressed and waited with the others for breakfast. After breakfast, the first thing we learn is how to stand at attention and how to march in formation.

  As the days go by, we also learn about saluTomg and jumping to attention when an Officer passes by or enters a room. No matter what we are doing, when we see an Officer, we must come to attention and salute. SaluTomg is the military’s way of recognizing the presence of an Officer. During one cannon loading practice session, an Officer happens to enter the area; everyone snaps to attention and salutes. One sailor, who forgot he was holding a cannon ball, drops it and salutes. He spent two weeks, on light duty, with a broken toe. Then, there was the time when seeing an Officer, a sailor who is taller than normal snaps to attention and salutes, immediately he fa
lls to the floor unconscious. He forgot where he was and hit his head on a beam. To reach perfection, many moves need constant practice; ducking, in certain parts of a ship, is one of them. 

  One day, while our cook crossed the parade grounds, another group of recruits was practicing combat tactics. Not paying attention, he inadvertently walked between two groups charging each other. When the mock battle was over, the cook lay on the ground, clutching his right arm and shouTomg in pain. During the charge, someone stepped on his arm and broke it.

  Later that day, our Instructor has us stop what we’re doing and form two rows facing him. While we’re standing at attention the instructor says, “MEN, our cook broke his arm and he’s out of commission for several months. Since there are no other cooks available, the Post Commander instructed me to make one of you our cook. Now, I’d like volunteers. If there are none…”

  Before he can finish Ebenezer steps forward and says, “Sir, I’d like the job.”

  The Instructor walks up to Ebenezer, “I’ll decide if you get the job or not.” Seeing, that no one else volunteers, the Instructor says, “Ebenezer, report to our Mess Hall and prepare the evening meal.”

  That evening, we sit in the Mess Hall and wait for the Instructor to take the first spoonful. After tasTomg the food, the Instructor nods in approval. “Ebenezer, in my humble opinion, this is the best meal I’ve ever tasted.” When the Instructor sees the smiles on the rest of the men, he says, “I see that the rest of you approve.” The while putTomg food on his plate, he conTomues, “Ebenezer, each day you’ll spend your morning, training with the group, then you’ll excuse yourself and cook the evening meal.”  After finishing his second helping, the Instructor takes Ebenezer aside and says to him, “I’ve heard about your plight and, as long as you don’t try that stunt here, your former problem is no concern of mine. Besides, to give up good-tasTomg food like that, I’d have to be nuts.”

  Ebenezer says, “Sir, I’d like to explain what happened.” Before the Instructor can stop him, Ebenezer conTomues. “Before joining the Navy; I was a Chef at LaPompous; it’s a fancy French restaurant in New York.  Two years ago, the Governor of New York ate dinner at the LaPompous.  That night the Governor spent most of the night in the outhouse.  He received a severe case of aggressive bowel movements.  The Governor claimed that LaPompous, was conspiring with his enemies, and tried to poison him.  To prevent legal action, the owner of LaPompous fired me, I was his Head Chef and he had to blame someone.  If the owner of LaPompous had investigated further, he would have found out who the culprit was.  The Governor drank spoiled buttermilk with his breakfast meal.  His wife purposely served it to him. She was punishing him for staying out late the night before.  She doesn’t like his carousing, and he does.  A week later, she told him what she did.  The Governor never apologized to me or tried to help me get my job back.  If he did that, then he would have to admit that he was wrong.  It is rare to hear a politician, or any government official to say, “I’m sorry”. Since that day, no one would hire me, not even the British. They figured, if I tried to poison a Loyalist, I would do worse to them. I even tried, my distant cousin, General Benedict Arnold. But alas, he turned me down. He feared, if word got out that I was his chef, no one would come to his dinner parties. To survive, I traveled up and down the coast, doing odd jobs, but nothing steady. When I heard about the ConTomental Navy needing men, I enlisted. The RecruiTomg Officer, happy to fill his quota, never asked me why I wanted to join. By telling you this, I’m hoping you’ll look at me as your new cook, not as a traitor.” 

  Without hesitation the Instructor says, “Ebenezer, like I said earlier, I’ve heard about your plight. Now forget about what happened and concern yourself with the task ahead. You’re our new cook and that’s all you should care about.”

  Ebenezer snaps to attention and says, “Sir, thank you for your vote of confidence. I won’t let you down.”

  After the Instructor returns the salute, he says “I know you won’t.”

  Knot, knots, and more knots; at least once every week we practice on how to tie knots.  The proper tying of knots is important.  Knots hold the ship together.  Knots secure the sails to their masts. Knots hold the cannons in their gun ports.  Knots secure everything on-board a ship.  There are slipknots, square knots, bowline knots, cleat hitch knots, and many more.  Each knot has a specific purpose, like the slipknot, which is a fast release knot used in various ways.

  One day, Ebenezer proved to us, why tying knots properly is important. He used a slip knot, to secure a tray of food to a hoist, for the men practicing on the fighTomg top, which is above the main mast. Since it was a rainy and windy day, Ebenezer, wanTomg to get out of the rain, did not tie the knot properly. When the tray was about to reach the fighTomg top, about twenty feet above ground, the slip knot came undone and everything fell down. It seems that when the food tray fell, during the commotion, the Instructor didn’t realize a biscuit landed on top of his hat. Immediately, a seagull swooped down to grab the biscuit. The seagull’s action aggravated the Instructor and he aggressively shooed it away. The Instructor must have scared or angered the seagull because as it flew away it deposited some, all too familiar, white stuff on his shoulder. Seeing what the seagull did, try as we may, we couldn’t hold back our laughter. When the Instructor realized what happened to him, he lost it and ordered Ebenezer never to come out of the kitchen. The Instructor quickly went to change his jacket. As punishment, for our act in insolence, he made us stand at attention until he came back. Later, that day, the Instructor relented and let Ebenezer join in musket practice.  

  After three days, during combat training, the Instructor taps Ebenezer on his shoulder and says, “Ebenezer, follow me.” Then he points to me and says, “YOU wait for me in the Mess Hall.” When, the Instructor and Ebenezer are far enough away, so the rest can’t hear, the Instructor says, “I realize this is all new to you, but tying knots properly, is something you must do.” Ebenezer prepares himself for another scolding. The Instructor, after stepping within an inch of Ebenezer’s face says, “I want you to become an expert with the musket. I’ve watched you during musket practice, and you’re a natural.” 

  Hearing this, Ebenezer snaps to attention and salutes while shouTomg, “YES SIR.”  The Instructor smiles and returns the salute. While still at attention Ebenezer says, “Sir, permission to return to my duties.”

  After Ebinezer goes back to his lessons, the instructor watches him as he thinks, there, that should put his mind back on his cooking; lately it’s been mediocre. If I have to put up with him, for my troubles, I deserve some decent food. Now for the next challenge; I need to turn a young upstart into officer material. He walks into the Mess Hall, sits down across from me and pulls a sexton out of its case. Along with learning the duties of a cabin boy, I’m also expected to know how to use a sexton.

  The Instructor holds the sexton in his hand while saying, “Joe, learning the proper use of the sexton is not easy. Because of this, these lessons will be informal, I want you to feel you can ask questions, do you understand?” When I nod my head yes, he replies, “good, now the first step is to know naval measurements. In the navy, a nautical mile is called a knot. A nautical mile, or knot, is 1.852 kilometers or 1.151 miles long and a league is three knots. A fathom is 6 feet or 1.83 meters deep.”

  When he pauses, I ask, “Sir, why does the Navy say knot instead of mile?”

  When the Instructor doesn’t answer, I think, maybe he doesn’t know. It seems that the only measurement that doesn't end in a fraction of something is a league. A league, according to him, is three knots.

  The Instructor, following some kind of rehearsed speech, conTomues; “on land a league is three miles.” When I bow and shake my head, he asks me, “Joe, am I going too fast for you?” 

  I mention, “I’m confused.  How can a league be three miles on land and 3.453 miles at sea?  Next, I suppo
se you’re going to tell me I have to use the metric system as the Europeans do.  Well, if that’s the case, I refuse. ”  

  The frustrated Instructor pauses and takes a deep breath; not wanTomg to discourage me from learning, he says, “Joe, it’s the way it is and that’s that. If you don’t learn this here, you may never become anything more than a cabin boy. Now, take this pen, paper and protractor. Write down how many knots we’ll have traveled if we sail three knots an hour for three days.” When I write down the answer, he says, “NOW, separate the points of the protractor, so, according to the map’s legend, the distance between them equals one knot.” When I do that he point to a spot on the map. “Now, going due East count off the number of knots we traveled in those three days.” When I do that, he smiles while saying, “SEE that was easy. The sexton makes this possible. By taking a reading each hour we will know how many knots we traveled in that hour and with the compass we know in which direction we’re traveling.

  I mumble, “I just don’t understand why we have to be so different.” 

  The Instructor replies, “Joe, if you want to change the rules then start your own navy. Until then, you need to learn these measurements and quit making such a fuss.” 

  Frustrated, I throw the pencil down and say, “I don’t want to be different.”  

  “JUST LEARN THE BLASTED MEASUREMENTS!” the Instructor shouted.  

  After more weeks of training, slowly our group started turning into a crew. When orders were shouted, without thinking about it, we knew what to-do. Well, that’s not exactly correct. Tom Tinkerbelly, who, because he’s tall and lanky, the crew nicknamed him Skinny-Tom, had trouble remembering certain things; like ducking. Yes, he’s the one who knocked himself out, when he snapped to attention while under a low beam. Then there’s the time, while practicing, how to raise and lower masts, he somehow got his foot tangled in the rope and fell. The rope wrapped around his foot and stopped his fall, but it caused him to hang upside down. Luckily, for Tom, this happened on the ten-foot high practice mast.

  Seeing Skinny-Tom, dangling upside down, the Instructor stoped the practice session and teld everyone; “if this happens to you during a battle, you might as well kiss your butt goodbye.  If you cannot untangle yourself, you will surely die.  Therefore, Seaman Tom you are on your own.  No one will help you no matter how much you cuss and moan.” 

  “Don’t worry Sir,” Tom says.  “This has happened to me before.  Once I was hanging, like this, for three hours outside my barn.  I tangled myself up while hauling up the last load of hay.” While still talking, he moves around.  “Now a twist like this and a turn like that and I’m free.” Freeing himself, he lowers his body to the ground.  “That wasn’t difficult, but I don’t know if I can do that on a moving ship.” 

  The crew watched with amazement at how Tom could twist his body and get out of his predicament.  He made it look so simple.  We asked him to teach us how to-do that.  The Instructor decided to let Skinny-Tom spend the rest of the day teaching the crew how to-do his rope entanglement freeing trick.   It was a unique movement.  Alas, for some of us, because of our physique, it was impossible.  The ones, who could master the technique, trained on the mainmast.  The others would train on the smaller ones. 

  During dinner, Tom sat next to me and we started talking. To my surprise, I found out that Tom and I are neighbors; well distant neighbors. Tom’s family farm is located just outside Lexington, on the opposite side of town. Since Tom is four years older than me, we didn’t run with the same crowd. I did find out that Skinny-Tom was in Lexington on that day in April of 1775. When the British fired at them, a musket ball hit him in his hip and another shattered his kneecap. The doctor wanted to amputate, but Tom refused, saying, “I’d rather be stiff legged then peg legged”. Not only did Tom lose the use of his leg; he also lost some close friends that day. He was able to walk by shifting all his weight on his good leg and by twisting himself, he would swing his stiff leg forward. Since the Continental Army marches great distances, they turned him down. The Continental Navy, which does not march great distances, accepted him. In desperate need of volunteers, the Continental Navy overlooked his disability. Since that day in Lexington, all Skinny-Tom wanted was to fight the British. With the crews’ help, he passed all the tasks put in front of him and made his wish come true. 

  As our training progressed, everyone developed a specialty.  Some became skilled with muskets others are better with cutlasses.  There are certain steps you have to follow to properly load a musket or pistol.  It’s hard enough to remember the loading procedures while training.  To load them in the heat of a battle, for some, can be impossible.  We’ve been told, after a battle, it’s not unheard of to find weapons with several loads in the barrel and never fired.  Most sailors, after firing their pistols, never reload.  After firing their pistols, they would turn it around and hold it by the barrel.  Now the pistol converts into a club. They would charge into the enemy, with their cutlass in one hand and their pistol, turned club, in the other. Before our first mock boarding, the Instructor marches us to the armory. Once inside, we choose the weapons we plan to use.  One sailor comes back with ten pistols tucked in his belt.  Everyone looked at him with dismay.  With the added weight of the pistols, he could barely walk. 

  The Instructor called him aside and said; “carrying ten pistols in your belt is not good.  Cut it down to one or two.  With so many weapons, how do you expect to fight?”   

  The sailor replied, “I’m a marksman with a pistol, and I want to carry all ten. This way, I can shoot more of them.”

  After thinking about it, the Instructor lets him take part in the mock battle. The sailor carrying the ten pistols has a difficult time boarding the ship. After crawling over the top of the railing, he falls down and has trouble getting up. It didn’t take long for what the Instructor expected to happen. As the sailor raised his hands, to defend himself against a blow to the head, the weight of the pistols caused his trousers to fall down. Everyone stopped battling each other and laughed. The pistol-carrying sailor wasn’t wearing underwear and looked very embarrassed while trying to pull up his trousers. At the next practice, Pedro, Aldo, Nickoli, Toro, Santiago only carried one pistol, and that was in his hand. “Pants”, as everyone started to call him, never mastered the art of hand-to-hand combat. The Instructor decided to make him a pilot (a pilot is the one who steers the ship). By the end of the war, Pants became the best pilot and pistol sharpshooter the Continental Navy had. During every battle, he kept several pistols next to him as he steered the ship.   

  Finally, news came that our ship is ready, and we would start training on her. Up to now most of the training was on land. If available, we would train on a docked ship. Now we will get to complete our training on-board a moving ship. There is a bigger challenge in climbing a mast, loading cannons, even eating, on a ship out at sea than on dry land. Even docked ships do not offer the same challenge as one that is moving. Ships traveling across the ocean not only move up and down, but they can also sway from side to side.  

  We need to get our sea legs and fast.  Getting your sea legs means safely walking on a ship traveling several knots.  A few times, when the weather was bad, we would walk on a docked ship.  It is not the same, but it did give us an idea of how to walk on a moving ship.  For Tom, it was not sea legs, that he needed to master, but spider legs.  During bad weather maneuvers, Skinny-Tom, because of his bad leg, sometimes would have to bend forward and use his hands to help him walk on the ship’s deck.  Being so tall and skinny, he looked like a weird spider.   

  This morning, after breakfast, the Instructor calls us to attention and says, “Your new ship will be here later today.  The rest of this day is yours, now class dismissed; that’s all I have to say.” 

  That night, we go into town and celebrate.  We finally have a ship of our own. Tomorrow we will board the “Andy Dor.” 

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