encore Unusual Errand

A ship’s assistant supply offi cer is given a peculiar last- minute task before the arrival of a special guest, and he later learns he’s overlooked an important detail.

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In 1984, I was serving as assistant supply officer on USS Coral Sea (CV- 43), and we were scheduled to go to sea for a few days of training. When a carrier went out for a few days with no big ex- ercises or massive training planned, the brass would invite guests to ride the ship. This required assigning staterooms, des- ignating escorts, setting up a few special events, and rearranging to accommodate the riders. On that day, a few hours before we

were set to depart, my phone rang. It was the XO. “Get down here now,” he ordered. As I walked down three decks and for-

ward about 100 feet, I tried to figure out what I had done that caused him to call me. I couldn’t recall any particular screw up. When I met with the XO, he asked, “How many baseballs do you have onboard?” “Huh?” I replied.

“I need a bunch of baseballs, now!”

he ordered. “Sir, I think the recreation department

might have some,” I said. “They only have softballs,” he replied.

“Go get some baseballs before we leave.” “Yes, sir,” I replied and headed back up

to supply, where I grabbed a quick $100 from our petty cash fund, handed it to a first class storekeeper, and said, “Get as many baseballs as you can, and hurry!” The storekeeper was one of the last people back onboard before the brow was taken in, but he was holding a brown bag filled with baseballs.

I quickly grabbed the bag, headed

down to the XO’s stateroom, and set it on his desk — mission accomplished. Once out of San Francisco Bay, the C-2 came in with our visitors. At 1800, dur- ing dinner, I was seated across from one of the visitors. He was a little quiet and maybe not quite used to the plane ride, the landing on the deck, or the rocking motion of the ship. But I then realized why the base- balls were needed. A few days after re- turning to port, the XO called me down to his stateroom and handed me the brown bag I had given him. He asked whether I knew any- thing about baseball. I said I knew a little. He responded I couldn’t tell the difference between a regulation baseball and a Little League baseball, but Yogi Berra* could. Inside the bag were

the Little League baseballs Yogi had signed but not had the chance to give away. Thanks, Yogi.

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— A.E. Steigelman is a retired Navy captain and a Life Member of MOAA. He lives in Camarillo, Calif. For submission information, see page 6.

read more: Yogi Berra died Sept. 22, 2015, at age 90. Learn about his life and career at http://nyti.ms/1FtbxzQ. 92 MILITARY OFFICER JANUARY 2016

Tell Your Story Submit your humorous true stories (approximate- ly 450 words) of service- related experiences by email to encore@moaa .org or by mail to Encore Editor, 201 N. Washington St., Alexandria, VA 22314. All submissions will be considered for publication.

ILLUSTRATION: ELWOOD SMITH