John Robben & Bruce Barker

The following is a an excerpt from a personal email sent between Robben & Barker. It accounts for the origins of the story on this page and also includes some continued explanation of their military service. Please be aware that the story does contain some language that isn't suitable for children. If you enjoy the excerpts of the story below which were included with the letter, the full book is available here.

It was right about now, give or take a day or two, in 1952, when we started to assemble in the Bainbridge gym for a final medical inspection to determine if we were safe to send home. Scarlet fever was striking down one recruit after another, and instead of going home for Christmas they were being sent to the hospital. I remember how worried we all were when the medical corpsmen asked us to lift our T-shirts so they could examine our backs and chests for telltale signs. How bitter that must have been for those who were discovered hours before departing. One of our own, whose name escapes me, but whose face I can still see, had come down with the rash that morning. He stood in the head lamenting his bad luck while simultaneously warning us not to come near him. Mike Santini? That names pops into my head. I remember the medics coming to pick him up in the ambulance. The ambulance waited outside the barracks while the medics strapped this poor young recruit into a stretcher before carrying him below, the tears streaming down his face. For the remainder of the day the rest of us kept sneaking looks at our own chests, then asking someone to look at our backs. You were there. You must remember this, too. It was to be not only your last day before the Christmas Leave, but also your last day in Bainbridge. It all seems so long ago now, and yet like only yesterday. I don't think I saw you again until that day in Norfolk when I visited you aboard your destroyer. (Then again, Bruce, we must have met st Steve Hartie's wedding over the holidays.) Speaking of destroyers, I've just finished reading a fabulous book written by a British sailor, Travis Jones, who served aboard destroyers in the British Navy during WWII, called, HEART OF OAK. I think you'd find it to your liking. As for my book, PARTICLES OF TIME, in which you're the featured character in a story called, "Rise and Shine, Sailor," it can be ordered by most book stores. The store you tried, Books-a-Million, may not offer that service. Any Barnes and Noble, or Border's can order it; or you can order it yourself. It is still in print and readily available. Think battle lanterns and people were quieting down until someone started yelling' his wallet had been stolen. That brought the Master-at-Arms back in and he warned that if the missing wallet wasn't returned we'd spend the rest of the night looking for it. Neither happened. The wallet wasn't found, and we weren't punished. It took maybe another hour for everyone to adjust to his new surroundings and quiet pretty much prevailed except for a few kids who were softly crying, one of whom kept calling out for his mother, and then sometime during the night a kid started cursing without waking up, just shouting vile words into the dark. I remember lying quietly in my bunk thinking that my first night in the Navy hadn't even ended yet and I still had 729 more to go. I fell asleep saying a few prayers to myself and the next thing I knew it was daylight and the Master-At-Arms was back rapping on the metal bunks and shouting "Hit the deck, you little pricks. You're in the Navy now! "I'm sure you'll have your own stories like this to tell and I look forward to hearing them sometime.

Bruce Barker was our recruit company commander in boot camp. His job was to takeover the company whenever our drill instructor was absent. A Jack Armstrong- type, handsome, athletic and Ivy League-ish. he assumed the role of leader with an easy confidence I found enviable. Dick Hayes. who had attended a military prep school. was Barker's exec. His attitude was a bit to o gung ho, especially because he was only a recruit like me rest of us. A strapping, six-foot-two, ex-amateur prizefighter. Mart). Stem. was our Master-At-Arms, His selection has been based on size alone, and it turned out to he a mistake. as be soon became one of the biggest troublemakers in the barracks I was the educational petty officer. a job I enjoyed and was good at.

The roles entitled us to wear stripes on our uniforms. and gave us a limited amount of authority, but basically we were all still recruits and had to undergo twelve rigorous weeks of training before being assigned to the fleet. One day. when Dick Hayes was trying to pull tank on several of-his fellow recruits,Charlie Cummings-a tough kid from Philadelphia challenged him. "We don't have to say 'sir' to you. Hayes." Cummings snorted. "'You're just another dumb recruit like us, "I'm a recruit officer," Hayes reminded him, "and as such am entitled to be addressed 'sir," ' "Up yours!'"Cummings replied . "Sir!"" Hayes insisted. "Up yours. sir!"

The guys standing around Hayes and Cummings. expecting a fight roared with laughter Hayes turned crimson. "Stern!" he screamed.Stem. standing with the laughers, said. "Yeah?" "Put this man on report!" Hayes demanded. "You're off your rocker," Stern replied.Hayes, shocked at this breach of conduct by one of his fellow officers, yelled next for Barker. Bruce, who'd been busy at his locker. hut who'd also been keeping a watchful eye on the argument. came over "I want these men put on report," Hayes said.

"Which men?" Barker asked, "Cummings and Stem," Hayes said. "What's the charge?" Barker asked,"Insubordination," Hayes fired back.. "Specifically?" Barker inquired,

"Cummings refuses to call me 'sir,' and also used a vulgar expression. and Stern neglected to perform his duty as Master-At-Arms,"Barker didn't like Cummings or Stern any better than Hayes did, but he was also a realist. "Listen," he said to Hayes, putting his arm around his shoulder and leading him away. "Let's talk this over for a few minutes," No one ever knew what Barker said to Hayes, but after that Hayes never asked anyone to call him 'sir' again.

The morning after he' d won his battle with Hayes. Cummings decided to test Barker's authority as well."One of Bruce's' jobs was to make sure everybody got up promptly in the morning. Reveille was at 5:00 AM; and by 5:30 we had to be lined up outside the mess hall for breakfast. We had thirty minutes in which to shave. make our bunks, dress, and march across the grinder. Dressing rook the longest because we had to wear leggings whenever we left the barracks. and lacing them up took nearly ten minutes. Bruce would have the four to six watchmen wake him up ten minutes before Reveille every morning so he could shave and then have time to walk through the barracks rousting people out of bed. Five minutes after Reveille that morning, Cummings's head was still buried in his pillow.

"Let's go!" Barker shouted. passing his bunk. Cummings didn't stir. Bruce continued on his rounds, and then coming back found Cummings still asleep, "Let's go, mister," Barker said. Cummings didn't budge. "Cummings!" Barker shouted. "Rise and shine!" Nothing happened. Bruce walked up to his bed and poked Cummings on the shoulder, "Hit the deck Sailor!" Cummings opened one eye and glared at him. "You touch me again," he said venomously, «and they'll have to swab your brains off the deck," "l said our of bed, mister!" Barker shot back. "Up yours! Cummings retorted.

Barker didn't hesitate. He grabbed the blanket wrapped around Cummings and jerked it. Cummings full in a heap on the 600r entangled in his blanket.Bruce stood over him, fists clenched, waiting for him to rise. Cummings, shocked, looked up, saw Barker waiting for him, and dropped his eyes, muttering to himself Bruce walked away. "Alright, you guys!" he shouted to the 'rest of us. "Let's move! We're late" The barracks, which had fallen silent. erupted in chorus. "Yes, sir!"

Wednesday, September 30,1987

The USS Lake Champlain, a twenty-seven thousand ton aircraft carrier, was anchored in the harbor of Norfolk. Virginia, when I first reported aboard for duty on February 24, ]953. She had just returned from a shakedown cruise to Cuba, and I had just graduated from three months of boot camp at Bainbridge Maryland. It was a chilly, breezy night when the liberty boat I was riding in pulled up.alongside what to me looked like a terrifyingly huge shape in the dark.

I stepped out of the liberty boat onto a bobbing platform attached at water level to the ship. A narrow ladder -angled up the side of the ship to the hanger bay where, ninety feet above me. an officer was waiting to welcome me aboard. I hoisted my heavy canvas sea bag over my left shoulder and held it in place with one hand, as I'd been taught to do in boot camp, and with my free hand I gripped the ladder railing and started pulling myself up. It was not easy balancing the heavy sea bag over my shoulder, and I had the feeling each rime I let go of the railing that if I lost my balance I'd tumble backwards into the dark, oily. swirling water below me. The higher I climbed, me uneasier I became.

In the distance, I could see the lights on shore. and all around me were other ships, some anchored like mine, others moving slowly through the harbor. Norfolk was a very busy port during the Korean War, with warships, freighters, and other vessels constantly coming and going, all day and all night. The ships underway were steadily sounding their horns. sending forth a mournful chorus. The liberty boat that had delivered me to my ship had already pulled away, and I could see it scuttling across the choppy water to another ship at anchor,

Not only were there an these noises, and lighted ships gliding around like spooks in the dark. but there was also the smell of the harbor, .fishy. oily, and damp. And here I was, nervously climbing a steep ladder with my heavy sea bag, fearful of falling into the water, and uncertain of what my new Navy home was going to be like. "Hurry it up. sailor!" the officer at the top of me ladder shouted down at me. I'd stopped halfway up the ladder to catch my breath and to readjust the bag over my shoulder. I don't know how long I'd stopped to do. this. but it was long enough for the officer to. grow impatient. There was a fleeting instant when I thought I might freeze on mat ladder. not from cold but from fright. and that someone would have to come down to help me get to the top. But when the officer shouted down at me it got me started again. and I managed to complete the climb. Standing at the top of the ladder at the entrance to the ship, I could feel the night at my back, the open harbor behind me, the wind and the danger it held if you ever fell overboard and into all he dark water.

I quickly saluted the officer, requested permission to come aboard and moved into the lighted hanger hay, a gigantic open arena through which hundreds of sailors were walking, running, carrying things and knowing what to do. I stood there in. amazement. bewildered and wondering how was I ever going to cope with all this?

I was now aboard a Navy aircraft carrier) one of the biggest of its kind at that time, nine hundred feet long, something like seven stories high. housing thousands of men and officers. Her cooks would serve nine thousand meals a day, movies would he show,n every night, and specially trained pilots would fly off and land on her deck in planes .that could travel at nearly the speed of sound and drop bombs powerful enough to influence the outcome of battles, Just the number of rolls of toilet paper such a vessel bad to carry was staggering. as was the number of potatoes, hamburgers, plates, cups, and beds. No wonder ships like this were called "floating cities.

"In time, I learned to feel at home aboard the Lake Champlain, and over the next few months. as the ship prepared for Korean War duty. even to enjoy myself: Not that I didn't miss my girl, my real home and my civilian life (to which I would happily return seventeen months later), bur I discovered something very important about myself. I learned I could do it. I could do the Navy's work. I could eat the Navy's food and put in a good night's sleep. and then I could start all over again the next day. I became a member of ship's company, a ship large enough to shelter,feed and employ three thousand men. I'd been a team member before in my life when playing sports, but it was nothing like this. Now I'd become pan of something huge, and not just part of a. ship,_however large she was. hut of something even bigger. I'd become part of the U.S. Navy itself.

Tuesday, August 27,2002

The bugle notes. sounding reveille, had. barely faded when the PA announced that a man had been lost over the side."Now hear this!" the voice on the PA said. "All personnel: Report to your muster stations immediately!"My ship, the aircraft carrier Lake Champlain, was patrolling off the coast of Korea in the East China Sea. The fighting ashore had recently ceased and. a truce declared, but we hadn't yet been released from our tour of duty. As the chaplain's aide. my muster station was in the ship's library.

When everyone assigned to the library had reported. we were allowed to go to breakfast.In the mess compartment we learned that just before dawn a marine standing watch on the ship's fantail had seen something "big and dark" fell off the Flight deck. The marine had dropped a smoke bomb overboard and a destroyer had converged on the smoke but found nothing.

"Maybe it was just garbage," someone suggested. -"Yeah," another agreed. "The cooks threw some pretty big hags over the side.""Off the flight deck?" a third asked. All morning we beam the PA paging someone. By the fourth or fifth page we realized the missing man, if still board, was being asked to call the quarterdeck. Several mornings later I was sunning myself in the starboard boat pocket before "turn to." I had brought a coffee cup full of frozen strawberries with me from breakfast and was letting them defrost in the morning sun. They were still so cold they tasted like tiny strawberry snowballs. Some other sailors were there whom I recognized, but didn't know. They were talking about the sailor who'd fallen overboard.

"I wonder how long be lasted?" one asked. "Not long enough for the can to and him." another said. A third. whose name was Frankie. said. "If you know how to swim, and the sharks don't get you. you can last a long one." "if the water isn't cold," the middle one added. "I wouldn't mind," the one named Frankie threw in, "if someone made it worth my while."