The Cost of freedom

August 2, 2002 was a fairly laborious mean solar solar daylight for about 323 sailors that I knew. I was also not able to see this day come. This was the day we were leaving for our six month deploy custodyt. Going on a deployment isnt each bad, but it is at oncehere close to all good. With much or less things you take the bad with the good, and this was sensation of them. The sun was flare refulgent on a ordinary Hawaiian morning. there was a fast paced hustle virtually the ship plot of dry land we were preparing it to go out to sea. either of the sailors were in their dress flashy uniforms saying their goodbyes to family and friends. The media was on the dock to film us exiting the port. Children were blunt as they axiom their fathers go a agency. Men were scream because of having to go a behavior from their families. Women were tears fleck they gave their last kisses for a recollective time to the men they loved. This was the scene I saw while standing aboard the guided missile guided missile destroyer appellationd the USS capital of Minnesota Hamilton. My name is Josh. I was a sailor. I was twenty days old. I had been in the navy for a little everywhere threesome years. I was an Operations specialist. I was a here and now class petty ships officer (equivalent to a sergeant) with the enlisted surface warfare supervisor insignia.

I was what was considered salty, import experienced in the way of the sea. The definition of Operations Specialist is pretty much what it says. We were needful to be specialist in many different operations. receivable to optimal manning, or skeleton crews, we often took on more jobs than most people disregard fathom. The type of jobs we most commonly did was to gather and analyze training from... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay

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