It was my first day in Djibouti, Africa. After settling into my 5-star tent, it was time to make the daily trek across Camp Lemonnier, but there was a problem: It gets hot in Africa, really hot. As I emerged from my shaded oasis, I quickly discovered that the daytime temperature had already soared to 2000 degrees F. Yup, that's right, 2000 degrees F. Believe me, I know that a heat this extreme would seem impossible to survive in, but that is not the case for a Sailor of my fortitude. So, I did what any God-fearing American male in the military would do; I rolled down my sleeves, put on two pairs of socks, and covered my back with an insulated liner typically worn inside of a cold weather parka. If that shit works in the cold, it could absolutely work in the heat.
Half a mile into my journey and things were going well. Then, it happened. An overwhelming feeling that I can only describe as an insatiable appettite for all things H2O. I've come to know this feeling as, "The Thirst." No, I'm not talking about Blade here. I mean it's hot as fuck and I needed water. So I began to scan the distance for one of the strategically placed water coolers that litter the base streets. I looked left. Nothing. I looked right. Nothing. Just as I was beginning to lose hope, my eye caught the faint glimmer of hope in the distance directly in front me. Then, without warning, the glimmer was gone. What happened? A water cooler couldn't move itself. No, something was blocking the way. I focused in on the distance. Could it be? Out here? Yes, my worst fear, an officer. Not your typical officer mind you, but the gaggling, laugh-out-loud, let me tell you all about my adventures type of officer that is found only in the most extreme of environments. They are a rare bread indeed. Back in the states, most officers pay little to no attention to ranks of enlisted.You can pass them in almost any ship without worry. But here they have evolved. On the dry, vegatation exhausted plains of Africa, they WANT to interact with you. Sounds nice right? Wrong! Unfortunately, the day-to-day tasks that most people find natural, such as carrying on a simple conversation about sports or the weather seem to elude them. Alas, if you get stuck in a conversation with them, be prepared to spend the next twenty minutes of your life listening to stories of their glory days from the academy.
I had no time for this. The Thirst had taken me and survival had now become paramount. What's this? Oh God no! Two, no three more of them had taken up post around the water cooler. Lt's no less, the worst kind. I had to act fast. Without thinking, I tossed my cover over to the opposite side of the street and shouted, "Look, a shipmate lost a cover!"
In unison, the JO's turned their heads toward where the hat lay on the ground.
JO #1 - "A shipmate lost their hat!
JO#2 - "A shipmate lost their hat?"
JO#3 - "Yes there, I can see it!"
JO#4 - "We must help unite that hat with its intended shipmate!"
As quickly as it had happened, the JO's formed a single file line and waddled off across the street to the abandoned cover, all the while mumbling, "Shipmate, shipmate, shipmate."
The rest has become quite blurry. All I remember is darting to the water cooler and snagging a half-chilled bottle of water with lighting speed. Today was close. Tomorrow may be closer. There are many dangers in the Horn of Africa and I will no dount experience them all. Join me for my quest...Shipmate.
