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WW2
Marine Diary of Lt. V. Terry
Three days away from the equator and then the ships captain and
those men who had crossed the equator before, began to plan the
festivities of the crossing. All who had crossed the equator were
called Shellbacks, All who had not crossed the equator were referred
to as dirty, slimy, filthy, Pollywogs. All Shellbacks had to show
proof of their having crossed before, and all had a card of the
Ancient Order of the Deep. Well, as I said, they planned the
festivities and this is the result. Several of us were dress in
rubber diver suites, completely zippered and buttoned, and we were
made (by means of paddle suggestion) to climb the ladder up to the
very top little bridge deck way the hell up in the air, and were
given spy-glasses (two rolls of toilet tissue fastened together)
with which we scanned the horizon for a sign from Davy Jones as to
when the Equator would appear in all its glory and announce the
arrival of King Neptune aboard the ship. Needless to say it was a
warm job in that equatorial heat and out in the sun all buttoned up
in rubber suits, I bet I lost 10 pounds that first afternoon. Well,
it was worked like that by shifts for two days, about every ten
minutes or so a Shell back would approach from the rear (usually a
salty little pfc or corporal on his way back to combat for the
second or third time) and question you about some ridiculous matter
that would have no answer and as a result he would then paddle the
devil out of you, and of course the rubber suit accentuated the
sting of the paddle. Other hazing crews of Shellbacks were busy
elsewhere, requiring anyone of any Rank to do anything he asked. You
could do nothing to please them of course and all were paddled
thoroughly during that three days session. The favorite request of
the Shellbacks was that you Salaam and say Praise Allah, hurrah for
the wonderful Shellbacks, and down with the dirty, slimy, filthy,
Pollywogs. On each salaam as you bent forward on your knees they
would timely administer a paddle to your fanny. Now these were not
schoolgirls wielding the paddle but rollicking adult husky Marines
and their heart was in their work, especially when the victim
happened to be an officer and the Shellback on enlisted man, boy oh
boy, their revenge must have been sweet and complete. Well, this
went on for the entire three days, for the most part during our
waking hours but it did happen sometime that you were hauled out of
the sack and at irregular hours. At last the day came when the
lookout announced that Davy Jones had signaled him that the Royal
Party and His Royal Highness King Neptune (Neptunis Rex) would board
the ship at high noon the next day and for all hands to be ready to
receive him. Well the skipper of the ship ordered the Jolly Roger
hoisted (the Pirate Flag of skull and crossbones). All Pollywogs
were marked with an X on their forehead with gentian violet (a blue
medicinal potion which is practically indelible), of course
sometimes the brush slipped and one’s entire face got it. Well, at
exactly noon the next day the Royal Party came aboard and there were
these present (appropriately accorded in regular raiment, carried
aboard nearly all ships for just this purpose) King Neptune, beard
and all. The Royal Baby (a huge 250 pound Marine with head shaved
and all rouged and lip-sticked) the Royal Barber, the Royal Doctors,
and of course Davy Jones who dressed as a pirate somewhat like John
Silver patch over eye etc. These men were well made-up and looked
every bit the part with the exception of the gargantuan Royal Baby.
Well the party started by all of us being lined up and awaiting the
Royal Barber, while we waited we were one by one bathed with a sea
hose which threw a stream of salt water from the sea about 4 inches
thick and in order to make the job thorough we were required to back
into it on our hands and knees, we were not clothed except for
skivvies, and believe me the force of that hose was about like an
enema on a large scale. Well after backing into the hose for a
distance of about 10 feet we were somewhat surprised to find another
hose of the same type playing on our faces, making breathing
somewhat of an amphibious or something of operation as the water
sometimes seemed to contain some bilge water besides the sea-water,
so that initial phase was over we stood back and reveled in the
misery of those behind us. Suddenly we were marched to the Barber,
who proceeded to cut a runway down the center of our beautiful
scalp, and I do mean scalp, he took several nicks out of mine
besides the hair. The hair clippings fell into a barrel in which had
been put some form of lard and shampoo. So after partially scalping
us he proceeded to give us a shampoo, but he must have had poor
vision because we didn’t get a shampoo but did get our eyes and
mouth full of hair and shampoo and lard. Still sputtering we were
taken before King Neptune’s elaborate throne where we were required
to salaam many times to the rhythmic beat of the paddle, and then we
moved over to worship the Royal Baby. This was the climax of the
whole affair, the bouncing Royal Baby presented not her face to be
kissed but her buttocks, which were diapered and over all about one
inch of mustard was smeared. Well everyone had a natural hesitancy
about sticking his face into a smear like that which to all
appearances might well be imagined something entirely more unsavory
than mustard. The court attendants here took the situation in hand
(our heads) and with a decided push accomplished the fact. Thence we
were placed upon the Royal Surgeon’s operating table and were asked
how much we weighed. Of course everyone weighs one hundred and some
pounds, and since nearly all say a hundred fifty six, etc they
naturally form the Hun syllable with a kind of openmouthed grunt and
at that precise moment the Royal Surgeon (large syringe of foul
tasting alumish fluid in hand) squirts your mouth full and oral
cavity being in such a wide-open state the stuff invariably caused
much spewing and sputtering and in some cases violent nausea with
dismaying results. After that none of us cared much what happened
and not much more was possible, it didn’t seem. However it was then
necessary for us to drink deep of the deep and a bucket was lowered
over the side and some nice salt water was pulled aboard and we all
were made to drink. Ugh. Well after several other sessions it seemed
we were about to become Shellbacks, but no. Blindfolded and roped
hand and foot we were dunked over the side, just a quick wetting for
some, it wasn’t possible to do a thorough job on so many, thank
goodness, then we were asked what the definition of a Shellback was:
and then the trouble began. It seems that Pollywogs are allowed to
mutiny if they do ii in an orderly manner, and once of the larger
and heftier members decided that this was the psychological moment.
It was a dismal failure, as the Shellbacks anticipated such an
attempt and was well prepared with hoses; it resulted in a washout
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