When Doc went on liberty, he gave the keys of his tiny dispensary between the galley and mess hall, to the yeoman. YN2 would administer Merthiolate for an open wound or a couple aspirins for other complaints, otherwise the patient had to go over to the base.
    A black SD, who was a little older than the average crew member, had some sort of complaint where the Doc tried several remedies. He was in fact, down to see Doc nearly every day of the week. One day Doc couldn't seem to diagnose his case so in disgust he said, "I don't know -- I'll have to send you over to the base and see if they can help you!" SD gave doc a most pathetic look and in a sloe mumble said "Yuh know Doc -- yuh fools around and yuh fools around. Yuh almost loses me -- and then yuh tells me yuh don't know what it is!"
    Doc came from Mississippi where he worked as a mortician before he joined the Navy. He had a dislike for Yankees. SK1 loved to goad Doc into saying unkind things about Yankees and when he got Doc going he would chuckle with glee.

    Another SN came from Philadelphia with a unique vocabulary from that area. His one great passion was food -- he loved to eat. He never missed a meal in the mess hall. One day he got a new pair of dungarees, part of an issue tailored for the waves. The seat was much fuller than the regular issue for men. Other fellows in the crew returned the "bloomers" they received but he wore his pair. The stout SN can still be visualized, working at a bench along with SF, the seat of the dungarees puffed out like a hot air balloon!