Introduction To Navy Coffee

We enjoy your coffee and your “salty” e-mails very much. ”Never wash the Chief’s coffee cup” and “If the spoon doesn’t stand up in it, it isn’t coffee!” are imbedded in our family lore . Both of us are retired Navy with three commands between us, and learned to appreciate seagoing coffee to tender ages. Below is one of my personal coffee sea stories regarding my introduction to “Navy coffee” in “Boot Camp”, RTC Bainbridge, MD. Use it as you see fit, Shipmate.

Somewhere after service week, I had my indoctrination to “Navy coffee”. One of the company commanders in our battalion was a Boatswain’s Mate Second Class (BM2) who the recruits had named “Red Dog”. The company commanders stood the Battalion Duty Officer at night, and when “Red Dog” had the duty, you could expect a lively night. Even the most minor of provocations resulted in a fire drill and some other exercise. “Red Dog” was a master at keeping recruit life busy and exciting. When he had the duty, the word spread through the battalion like wildfire, and everyone did whatever they could to avoid his wrath.

One night, I found myself with the Battalion Messenger of the Watch duty, and “Red Dog” was the duty officer. How I managed to schedule myself for this form of exacting punishment, I have long forgotten, but I did. “Red Dog” instilled fear in every boot that met him. He stood a portly 5’6”, had red hair but was bald on top, and had a small red moustache. His glare could transfix event the saltiest of boots. Well, there I sat in the Battalion Office, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. “Red Dog” was engrossed in his magazine, and I thought that I might make it to 2200 when my watch ended. At about 2000, “Red Dog” looked up from his magazine, and said in a voice that only a seasoned boatswain’s mate could muster……one that on a forecastle could be heard in a Force 10 wind…..”Son, I’d like a cup of coffee…….fix us some coffee.” Well, what I knew about making coffee could be transcribed on the head of a pin, but I was not about to incur “Red Dog’s” wrath by admitting it. Someone had thoughtfully posted operating instructions for the coffee maker, and I decided to follow them step by step. All went well until it came time to fill the coffee basket. There were no instructions for the amount of coffee to use. Reasoning that if some coffee is good, more coffee is better, I packed the coffee basket to maximum capacity. I fired off the machine and waited. When the brew light finally came on, I took a cup from the rack, filled it, and dutifully put it on the desk in front of “Red Dog”. I then returned to my seat, firmly convinced that my parents would receive a telegram informing them that Navy rendered its deepest sympathies, but their son had died an untimely death during boot camp training.

“Red Dog” glanced at his cup of coffee, put down his magazine, and took a long sip. He immediately looked up and exclaimed, “My God, son! Where did you learn to make coffee like that? I haven’t had a cup like that since I left the ship.” There was now a chance I might survive the night. Then, after savoring a long swig, “Red Dog” looked up again and exclaimed, “Son, there is one thing you have to learn about this man’s Navy……..you never drink coffee alone. Fix yourself a cup!” A direct order is a direct order, and of all the people in the Navy, I was not about to question “Red Dog”. I therefore had my first cup of coffee and my first cup of Navy coffee. Suffice it to say that I bored holes in the bunk above me for the next three nights…..not a wink of sleep was had!