The San Bruno stopover was to give us some amphibious training. On Thanksgiving Day, we Yippie sailors had a ball. Most of the troops were complete novices on the high seas and began to suffer from seasickness soon after we passed under the Golden Gate Bridge. Yippie sailors, on the other hand, had been to sea on small, converted shrimp boats for months, boats which bobbed on the surface of a number three sea like a cork in white water. On a troop ship the mess hall consists of mess tables about chest high, no chairs, no benches, nothing to sit on.
Troops stand up to eat their chow, at least they did then.
So, on this memorable day, and I have never seen another like it, we Yippie sailors were wolfing down our chow while all around us green sailors were barfing up their insides. The ship's movement had no effect on us, in fact, this huge ship was like stable ground to us. Say what you will about Navy chow, but on the holidays they always put out a great meal and this was no exception. So, as quickly as we Yippies finished our own tray, we felt free to move on to the untouched food of one of our more unfortunate brethren. Any mention of grease to a seasick sailor seems to precipitate his queasiness as I found out in my early days on a Yippie boat.