The Ransom

When we first pulled in to the PI (Subic Bay, Philippines) in '90 the nucs were especially excited because we were going to get to do something none of us had ever done before: go four section in port. We got some nubs qualified ahead of schedule, and we had two people lose their augment schools, so we had enough extra bodies for the few weeks we'd be there.

Making it even sweeter was the fact the cones were actually going to be three section. Why? Because, at the time, the U.S. was in negotiations with the PI government to extend the lease on the base, and there were all sorts of anti-U.S. groups stirring up trouble. Long story short: the cones had to man up extra security watches, including two additional rovers on the pier and two guys in the sail with the heavy artillery. It was like a dream come true.

But it was not be.

One of the cone chiefs whined continuously ("one ship, one screw"... at least when the cones needed something) until the COB ordered us to help support the extra watches. There weren't enough of us nucs to affect the cones' rotation (they stayed three section), but we had to drop out of four section to cover for them. It was punitive coner BS, and we vowed revenge.

Well, right before we left that very same chief came staggering back from a night of drunken fun (there *are* no married guys in the P.I.) with a giant stuffed teddy bear. Since we were at least four months away from seeing our families in person, and since he could have easily shipped it home from the Exchange in Subic, we reasoned that it must be for some illicit tail he had stashed back in Guam. If he valued the bear enough to try and haul it with him underway (there is no easy place to stash a three foot tall teddy bear on a sub, even for a chief with his own rack), we might be able to get some payback. My leading first sent me off base an hour before the maneuvering watch to find another bear just like it, which I was able to do with only minutes to spare.

After a few days underway, the chiefs were getting tired of having this cumbersome bear underfoot in their clubhouse. They were more than agreeable when we offered to "take care" of the problem once the owner was on watch. We snatched the bear, wrapped it up in garbage bags, and stashed it in a box girder in the engine room (it made an excellent pillow, BTW).

Naturally, the chief missed it almost immediately, and started freaking out. He wanted the COB to order a field day so they could search the boat for it. Dire threats were uttered, and the nuc chiefs were starting to cave - "Better give it back, before he blows a gasket" one told me.

Instead, we took *our* bear, taped its paws together, put a blindfold on him, an took a picture of him all tied up outboard of the condenser. We left this picture along with a ransom note on the chief's rack. Here's what we asked for:
(1) A letter postmarked in Rhode Island (none of us were from there)
(2) The handle to the CO's stateroom
(3) A can of Olympia Beer, unopened
(4) A box of Captain Crunch cereal, family size
(5) The flush valve handle from the Officer's Head
(6) The eight ball handle from the torpedo room
(7) The rash statements log from the wardroom
(8) The EM log from maneuvering (kept under the EO's chair)

If he didn't bring the goods to the designated place at the designated time, bad things would happen. We also added "Don't go to the COB or the bear dies" at the bottom, which was really funny because it was the COB who put the letter on his rack for us.

Well, if you've been on a fast attack in the late eighties / early nineties you know that most of what we asked for would be impossible to get, especially when you've pissed off so much of the crew. But he actually tried, for a while. Needless to say, the ransom demand was not met, so we had to show him we meant business. We cut off one of the ears on our bear and left it on his rack, along with a new note repeating out demands and promising a new body part every day until they were met.

He went along for the first few days, and I think his plan was to collect enough of the bear parts to sew it back together. But the pressure must have got to him, because he started to go really, REALLY batshit insane on us. When he wasn't on watch, he was wandering around the boat with a flashlight, looking for the bear. Somehow, he never seemed to spend much time back aft, which shows how truly clueless he was about how bad he'd screwed us in the P.I.

Finally, the bull nuc took us aside and said we had to give back the bear, or the CO was going to do something about it. We were actually okay with this; we figured he'd suffered enough, and besides we were running out of body parts to cut off our bear. We left his bear, none the worse for wear, in the fan room where we knew it would be found and returned to its daddy on the next watch. The chief was visibly relieved, but he was never quite as vocal about the whole "one ship, one screw" policy again.