Ode to___

[Jody D. Zimmer]

'One day as he sat in that room called the Ward,
he shook his fat belly and prayed to the Lord...'

Oolies:
1. Who was this epic penned in honor of?
2. What life-changing event inspired it?
3. How does the rest of it go? (this is all I remember)
4. Special hacker bonus: Who penned this magnificent verse?

[Stan Tribble]

Burt Arnold, but I don't remember what the cause was. Was it that marathon field day before the ORSE?

[Jody D. Zimmer]

Burt K Arnold it was, circumstances involved the unfortunate use of 'the deadly green-handled lever' ( thereby dredging up one more line of the Ode and giving away oolie #2).

Stan Tribble said:

Burt Arnold, but I don't remember what the cause was. Was it that marathon field day before the ORSE?

[Jay Kisor]

Jody D. Zimmer said:

Burt K Arnold it was, circumstances involved the unfortunate use of 'the deadly green-handled lever' ( thereby dredging up one more line of the Ode and giving away oolie #2).

Stan Tribble said:

Burt Arnold, but I don't remember what the cause was. Was it that marathon field day before the ORSE?

[Jay Kisor]

BK blew the shitters on himself and the CO made him wear the ball vlv

Jay Kisor said:

Jody D. Zimmer said:

Burt K Arnold it was, circumstances involved the unfortunate use of 'the deadly green-handled lever' ( thereby dredging up one more line of the Ode and giving away oolie #2).

Stan Tribble said:

Burt Arnold, but I don't remember what the cause was. Was it that marathon field day before the ORSE?

[Glenn W. Linton]

I have the original "Ode to BKA" in a folder at home, along with the drawing of Mr Ziffle himself on the shitter.  I will send you it when I find it.

 

Berthold Klaus Arnold (aka Mr. Ziffle) blew shitters on himself and then blamed the wardroom MS and made them clean it up.

 

Mr. Ziffle wanted blood or a Mast or a Court Martial, but Smilin' Sam would not hear of it.  In fact, Smilin' Sam made Ziffle wear the "700 pound club award."   Also, Smilin Sam had the drawing and the poem posted in his stateroom.

 

Mr. Ziffle had endeared himself to the crew (not), so as fast as Ziffle tore down the poem and the drawing, it was reposted.

 

[Glenn W. Linton]

Ode to BKA

 

One fine day in that room called the ward

He shook his belly and prayed to the lord.

His sphincter muscle ached with the strain

As he ran to the head to relieve the pain.

Down with his coveralls and down with his shorts

He then proceeded to dump thirty two quarts.

He sighed in relief that he made it in time

To load his pants would have been an embarrising crime.

In the midst of his pain and mad dash to the head

He failed to notice that sign colored red.

So he sat on the throne flogging his dong

And didn't realize there was anything wrong.

He wiped his ass as clean as a whistle

And dreamed of the trident C 4 missle.

He thought of home and fresh cold brew

And ten new ways to fuck over the crew.

He laughed to himself and thought he was clever

As he grabbed that deadly green handled lever.

With a supple smooth thrust, it was pushed to the floor

And immediately followed by a deafening roar.

There was piss on the floor and turds on the shelf

But he sprayed most of San 1 all over himself.

There was shit on the walls and shit on the ceiling

As he crawled from the head, whining and squealing.

He looked up and he saw the feces were raining

And developed a plan using his officer's training.

Not a second went by by before he made a decision

To leave all the cleanup to MS division.

Well dung to the weps who, after years on a sub

Is the newest member of the 700 pound club

[Jay Kisor]

I remember this like it was yesterday.

[Jody D. Zimmer]

Glenn, that's beautiful!! I could remember parts of it, but seeing the whole thing again...laughing my ass off!

I don't recall for sure, but wasn't this written by the multi-talented Mark Whitney?

[Glenn W. Linton]

Nope, I wrote it. I guess that solves the hacker bonus.  I actually signed it anonymous because Mr. Ziffle wanted me on report for it. The fat man was out for blood. 

 

Lucky for me that Smilin Sam Badgett had a great sense of humor.

 

I met Capn Badgett for lunch in the mid 80's when he was CO of the ROTC detachment at Holy Cross in Worcester, MA. He let me know then that he knew it was me.

[Jody D. Zimmer]

The Fat Man was ALWAYS out for blood.

You now lay to rest thirty years of rampant speculation. Think I'll call Fairchild and Tolley! Thank you, both for the verse and for clearing the water - I think somewhere I have both a copy of it as well as some of Mark's artwork. Probably cross-connected the two.

Cap'n Sam wasn't a bad guy, but there were those in his wardroom that truly should have been executed at sunrise.

Now. Glenn, have you any confessions to make regarding the identity of the 400-cycle saboteur? I can still recall the 7MC going haywire, both SINS in hot destruct, not copying the broadcast, sonar effectively shutdown...made for a fun watch, probably because there was so much misery in OPSUL.

[Glenn W. Linton]

I also drew the picture of the fat man on the shitter with his coveralls at his ankles and san 1 blowing out all around his feet. One of the "sounds" was "Kirsch," the squadron deputy commander who blew shitters on himself during sea trials. 

 

Anyway, I depicted the fat man in a t-shirt that said, "US Navy -- Kill for Peace"

 

The loss of Sins and 400 hz etc was because Welling screwed up during a boat move causing a loss of all AC.  So, during the next boat move, he had the IC men put the IC ABT in manual and then it never got moved back to auto. Then, later at sea, came engineering drills and a fire in the switchboard drill.  Turning off the switchboard resulted in the loss of IC power (remember the ABT in manual), thus the loss of protection circuitry for SINS, the loss of a 5KW MG (SINS power), and just for good measure, the 30/10 MG got tripped off the line by some electrician (not me) trying to correct the problem, and then, well you know the rest.

 

I don't think I ever saw Smilin Sam so pissed.  He chewed Welling out in MR2UL for about 15 minutes.  I never thought the old boy had that kind ass kicking in him.

 

I also recall the temper tantrums Baby Huey through.

 

Anyway, that's how I remember it.

 

 

 

[Jody D. Zimmer]

Good Lord, man, I don't even remember a Welling!!! I guess your radiation was harder on hair, and ours was absolute murder on brain cells.

Wait, that may have been the beer during off-crew...

I have the great good fortune to be working with a Nuke Electrician, think he sailed on the JimmyK, don't look like much but smart as a whip. I remind him as much as possible about FTB's eating chow in foul-weather jackets. Makes his whole day.

Small world.