Question of the Day!

Curry curry!!! No more. Once upon a time, back in 1978. When I was in the old Navy, when the ships were wood and the men made of steel, I returned to my ship after spending the weekend ashore, killing as many brain cells as possible and still walk.

I stopped at a fleet landing cookery and ate a large bowl of "Curry Chicken." Having never eaten at this place, I told my mates that it didn't taste right; they all laughed and made fun of my weak constitution. Their laughter continued only as long as mine. We went up the gangway onto the deck edge elevator. We saluted the Ensign and then turned to face the E-6, standing the OOD mid-watch. My stomach rose to attention, and I puked all over his watch podium and the deck and left a river of goo oozing toward the catwalk. The 1st class petty officer shook his head until my mates began painting the area with their curry chicken. More sailors were waiting behind us, and they responded to our escapades and joined in, turning the decks into an ice rink.

The 1st class, standing watch, decided the ship was under some kind of chemical attack and sounded the alarm ... next thing everyone knew, the XO ordered General Quarters as we had just finished chemical warfare drills. The XO thought this event was why the ship received only four days' before, emergency orders to refresh our CW drills.

After a lot of running by a lot of sailors, they figured out the true cause. We four did not get another 72-hour liberty for the rest of the tour. Now, every time I get within 100 yards of Curry, my stomach turns, and I get the urge to run for open water.