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4.1 AVERAGE
4.1 AVERAGE
Prior to my enlistment in 1980 I came across an old edition of the BJM at the public library and read it cover to cover. Without a doubt it gave me a head start on learning basic seamanship, recognizing rank & insignia, knot tying, and memorizing the all-important 11 General Orders of a Sentry. It is a textbook for Navy 101 and is standard issue for all new recruits—like most other textbooks, its value depends on the motivation and enthusiasm of the student.
Among my late mother's effects were a number of books. The bulk of these were novels, museum books from her travels, and there was also a collection of Shakespeare. I ended up with most of these, including the Shakespeare which I took mostly to spite my wife, who is that rarest of species, the English professor who despises Shakespeare.
One book in particular really stunned me while I was going through the shelves. It was a normal sized hardback volume, although on the thick side, covered in faded blue fabric with a title faded nearly to illegibility. Curious, I flipped it open and was stunned to find "Property of..." my late maternal grandfather, as well as his name stenciled on the inside front cover in very utilitarian block lettering.
The book was his copy of The Bluejackets' Manual. I had never heard of the term Bluejacket and had no idea what this book was about but anything related to my grandfather was a shocking discovery. When my grandparents passed away, their effects were few. I did receive a katana he took as a war trophy from his service in the Navy during WWII. This book is another relic of those times.
There was no time for long investigation--we had but one day to apportion my mother's personal effects as nearly everyone had to leave to get back to work--but the Manual definitely went into my pile. Once I received it from my father--who did an amazing job packing everything off to everyone by himself--I set myself the task of reading it. Today, I finished.
A Bluejacket is the Navy's preferred term for someone in the Navy. Seaman is a rank, so not good as a general term. Squid is a term of derision used by other military branches. The Manual has been in continuous publication since 1902; my grandfather's was the 1943 edition. It is intended to be literally what it says on the tin: The Bluejacket's Manual.
Weighing in at 1145 pages--the largest edition of the Manual ever published--this was the guide to everything, and I do mean everything, a Bluejacket would need to know while serving in the Navy during the largest military conflict the world has ever known. There is very little theory in my grandfather's Manual. This is a book written for men fighting a war that had gone on for very long time, had a theater of operations that is best described as "the whole planet", and had an outcome that was still very much in doubt.
I now--at an extremely basic level--know:
Do all of the duties required to crew, prepare, stock, deploy, recover, sail, and land many different types of small boats carried by Navy ships. Navigate by radio and stars, the interfaces of boat-ship-seaplane signaling, and how to land in a heavy surf. How to anchor a ship (it's a LOT more complex than just letting the thing drop), moor it by anchor, ring buoy, or another vessel.
Safety procedures that are all business, especially when one gets to the emergency procedures they are designed to prevent. Fight fires of a truly terrifying nature, up to and including open tanks of burning fuel oil inside a confined space. Work in compartments with no breathable atmosphere. Make emergency repairs including innumerable types of battle damage. The first aid procedures cover literally everything.
Not only tie knots but the use, splicing, care, repair, and construction of every kind of rope, wire rope, and chain up to truly massive anchor chains.
Endless details about regulations, drill, pay (it wasn't much, by today's standards), exercises, and lots and lots more drills.
Service, aim, repair, and fire everything from a 1911 pistol to bag guns. Bag guns are battleship turret guns that use powder in bags, by the way.
The complex schemes by which everything is painted. Parts of the ship, pipes, a wide variety of shells, bottles of various gasses, etc.
Command a shore force up to a rifle company. Assault a wide variety of towns, villages, and other areas held by the enemy.
Amid the tens of thousands of facts were little tidbits that stick out in my memory. Repeated several times was an exhortation to not swear. Good luck with that one. Nothing should be stored against the inner face of ship armor as it will all be thrown around with extreme violence should that armor take a hit during battle. The deadly seriousness of water-tight door security. A frank admission that the true nature of electricity was, at the time, a mystery. How to arrange everything, and I mean everything including all your personal effects, hammock, uniforms, weapons, and various packs for shore duty for inspection. What faking down a line is and why one would do such a thing. The best way to wake up a man when they're needed in a crisis without disturbing the dozens of other men sleeping in hammocks in the same hallway. Where to aim a bayonet. How to carry a man substantially larger than yourself, by yourself, in a compartment filled with smoke so you have to stay within a foot of the floor, when that man is unconscious. You try carrying somebody bigger than you. It's HARD.
Reading my grandfather's Manual was to peer through a window into another age. It was a deeply moving experience for me; perhaps the only time I ever felt truly connected with a man I had only known as an old guy who owned a nursery in Florida. This unassuming book is now one of my most prized possessions.
One book in particular really stunned me while I was going through the shelves. It was a normal sized hardback volume, although on the thick side, covered in faded blue fabric with a title faded nearly to illegibility. Curious, I flipped it open and was stunned to find "Property of..." my late maternal grandfather, as well as his name stenciled on the inside front cover in very utilitarian block lettering.
The book was his copy of The Bluejackets' Manual. I had never heard of the term Bluejacket and had no idea what this book was about but anything related to my grandfather was a shocking discovery. When my grandparents passed away, their effects were few. I did receive a katana he took as a war trophy from his service in the Navy during WWII. This book is another relic of those times.
There was no time for long investigation--we had but one day to apportion my mother's personal effects as nearly everyone had to leave to get back to work--but the Manual definitely went into my pile. Once I received it from my father--who did an amazing job packing everything off to everyone by himself--I set myself the task of reading it. Today, I finished.
A Bluejacket is the Navy's preferred term for someone in the Navy. Seaman is a rank, so not good as a general term. Squid is a term of derision used by other military branches. The Manual has been in continuous publication since 1902; my grandfather's was the 1943 edition. It is intended to be literally what it says on the tin: The Bluejacket's Manual.
Weighing in at 1145 pages--the largest edition of the Manual ever published--this was the guide to everything, and I do mean everything, a Bluejacket would need to know while serving in the Navy during the largest military conflict the world has ever known. There is very little theory in my grandfather's Manual. This is a book written for men fighting a war that had gone on for very long time, had a theater of operations that is best described as "the whole planet", and had an outcome that was still very much in doubt.
I now--at an extremely basic level--know:
Do all of the duties required to crew, prepare, stock, deploy, recover, sail, and land many different types of small boats carried by Navy ships. Navigate by radio and stars, the interfaces of boat-ship-seaplane signaling, and how to land in a heavy surf. How to anchor a ship (it's a LOT more complex than just letting the thing drop), moor it by anchor, ring buoy, or another vessel.
Safety procedures that are all business, especially when one gets to the emergency procedures they are designed to prevent. Fight fires of a truly terrifying nature, up to and including open tanks of burning fuel oil inside a confined space. Work in compartments with no breathable atmosphere. Make emergency repairs including innumerable types of battle damage. The first aid procedures cover literally everything.
Not only tie knots but the use, splicing, care, repair, and construction of every kind of rope, wire rope, and chain up to truly massive anchor chains.
Endless details about regulations, drill, pay (it wasn't much, by today's standards), exercises, and lots and lots more drills.
Service, aim, repair, and fire everything from a 1911 pistol to bag guns. Bag guns are battleship turret guns that use powder in bags, by the way.
The complex schemes by which everything is painted. Parts of the ship, pipes, a wide variety of shells, bottles of various gasses, etc.
Command a shore force up to a rifle company. Assault a wide variety of towns, villages, and other areas held by the enemy.
Amid the tens of thousands of facts were little tidbits that stick out in my memory. Repeated several times was an exhortation to not swear. Good luck with that one. Nothing should be stored against the inner face of ship armor as it will all be thrown around with extreme violence should that armor take a hit during battle. The deadly seriousness of water-tight door security. A frank admission that the true nature of electricity was, at the time, a mystery. How to arrange everything, and I mean everything including all your personal effects, hammock, uniforms, weapons, and various packs for shore duty for inspection. What faking down a line is and why one would do such a thing. The best way to wake up a man when they're needed in a crisis without disturbing the dozens of other men sleeping in hammocks in the same hallway. Where to aim a bayonet. How to carry a man substantially larger than yourself, by yourself, in a compartment filled with smoke so you have to stay within a foot of the floor, when that man is unconscious. You try carrying somebody bigger than you. It's HARD.
Reading my grandfather's Manual was to peer through a window into another age. It was a deeply moving experience for me; perhaps the only time I ever felt truly connected with a man I had only known as an old guy who owned a nursery in Florida. This unassuming book is now one of my most prized possessions.