REAL CHIEFS
Real Chiefs think Ensigns should be seen and not heard and never ever be allowed to read books on leadership.
Real Chiefs don’t own civilian clothes.
Real Chiefs have CPO Association Cards from their last five commands.
Real Chiefs don’t remember life before they were a Chief.
Real Chiefs Wedding Proposal: “There will be a wedding at 1000 hours on 29 October, be there in whites with your gear packed because you will be a prime participant.”
Real Chiefs favorite national holiday is CPO Initiation.
Real Chiefs believe that in the Navy every day is a holiday, every meal is a feast, every payday is a lottery and every muster is a family reunion.
Real Chiefs favorite breakfast is shipboard SOS.
Real Chiefs don’t know how to tell civilian time.
Real Chiefs call each other “Chief.”
Real Chiefs greatest fear is signing for property book items.
Real Chiefs dream in Navy Blue, White, Haze Gray and occasionally khaki.
Real Chiefs have served on ships that are now war memorials or tourist attractions.
Real Chiefs get tears in their eyes when the “Chief” dies in the movie “Operation Pacific.”
Real Chiefs don’t like “Certified Navy Twill” (CNT’s). “Wash khaki” is the ONLY thing out of which to make a uniform.
Real Chiefs can find their way to the CPO Club while blindfolded on fifteen different Navy bases.
Real Chiefs have pictures of past ships in their wallets.
Real Chiefs only own ink pens that have “Property U.S. Government” printed on them.
Real Chiefs never volunteer to get mandatory flu shots.
Real Chiefs have a permanent curl in their forefinger.
Real Chiefs don’t order supplies, they swap for them.
Real Chiefs favorite quote is from the movie Ben Hur, “We keep you alive to serve this ship.”
Real Chiefs think excessive modesty is their only fault.
Real Chiefs hate to write evaluations, except for their own.
Real Chiefs turn in a four page brag sheet for their evaluation.
Real Chiefs always say their last ship was their best ship.
Real Chiefs know that the black tar in their coffee cup makes the coffee taste better.
Real Chiefs are proudest when one of their former strikers makes Chief.
Real Chiefs idea of heaven: Three good PO1’s and a Division Officer who does what he is told.
Real Chiefs think John Wayne would have made a good Chief if he had not gone soft and made Marine movies.
Real Chiefs use the term “Good Training” to describe any unpleasant task. Scraping the sides of the ship is “Good Training.” Having to sleep on your sea bag in the parking lot because there was no room in the barracks is “Good Training.”
Real Chiefs teach their children that the highest attainment in life should be in becoming a Chief.
Real Chiefs can never fathom why a Chief would even consider accepting a commission.
Real Chiefs think “Crepes and Quiche” are a gay Hollywood couple.
Real Chiefs rather hitchhike than own an imported automobile, truck or motorcycle.
Real Chiefs keep four sets of dress khaki uniforms in the closet in hopes they will come back.
Real Chiefs love their mothers mainly because she has a son or daughter in the Navy.
Real Chiefs believe that the only thing to make life more complete is if he/she had been born in a naval hospital.
Real Chiefs are always right and they know it. In the impossible hypothesis that a subordinate may be right, the former still applies.
Real Chiefs do not regard an officer’s rank and title as the measure of his or her competence.
Real Chiefs are the only people who can make the salutation “Ensign” sound like a four letter word.
Real Chiefs are always “The Chief” - even in shower shoes and a towel.
Real Chiefs will tell you that they are always a part of the answer, never the problem.
Real Chiefs will always say, “Let me do it for you, Sir,” and then promptly assign someone to do it.
Real Chiefs don’t sleep; they rest.
Real Chiefs are never late; they are detained elsewhere.
Real Chiefs never leave work; their presence is required elsewhere.
Real Chiefs never eat sliders at mid rats.
Real Chiefs don’t eat quiche, and they can’t pronounce it or spell it.
Real Chiefs never read the newspaper in the mess; they study current events.
Real Chiefs play cut-throat Hearts, not Poker; and never, ever Bridge.
Real Chiefs never play a sport where the ball doesn’t come back by itself (bowling - yes, golf - no, tennis - never).
Real Chiefs call their spouses WIFELANT or WIFEPAC, or CINCHOUSE or CINCFAM.
Real Chiefs are at sea when their kids are born. [“You have to be there to lay the keel but not to launch them.”]
Real Chiefs always say, “Morning,” never “Good morning,” except when they are getting ready to get underway.
Real Chiefs never eat off of the ship. They know the best food is in the Chiefs’ Mess.
Real Chiefs are hated by Supply Officers who have to take inventory after the Real Chief pays a social call.
Real Chiefs don’t write in cursive, except for their paycheck signatures.
Real Chiefs think that the easiest day at sea is tougher than the worst day on shore duty.
Real Chiefs don’t make coffee.
Real Chiefs know that you can never, ever, at any time, at any location, sea or shore, or under any circumstances, be allowed to run out of coffee.
Real Chiefs never wash out their coffee cups, rinse maybe, but never wash it.
Real Chiefs have a coffee pot next to their desks with an intravenous tube running into their arms.
Real Chiefs have a Goat Locker.
Real Chiefs never vacation; every day on the ship is a vacation.
Real Chiefs think that “sensitivity” is a control knob on a radar or sonar console and that’s all it is.
Real Chiefs have the heart of a little boy … kept in a jar on the desk.
Real Chiefs’ think that remote control is a PO1 on the other end of a walkie-talkie.
Real Chiefs know that you don’t need a computer to sail a ship, especially when the power is out.
Real Chiefs think that a seven-course meal on liberty is a baked potato and a six-pack of beer.
Real Chiefs never go on liberty with their juniors; they conduct training sessions.
Real Chiefs never have wine on liberty; it better be brewed and it better be cold.
Real Chiefs can name at least fifteen bars in Hong Kong, but know that the best bars are across the bay in Kowloon.
Real Chiefs have tattoos; otherwise, how would they remember what a great time they had on liberty?
Real Chiefs can communicate with each other using farts.
Real Chiefs have mastered the use of the silent, but deadly, fart and they are not afraid to use it, especially around watch stations.
Real Chiefs have a “Zippo” that has been everywhere and still works.
Real Chiefs have tattoos on their forearms that would force them to keep their cuffs buttoned at a church picnic.
Real Chiefs take eighteen year-old idiots and hammer them into Sailors.
Real Chiefs know that the term “All hands” means “All hands.”
Real Chiefs don’t have to command respect; they get it because there is nothing else that you can give them.
Real Chiefs are expert at choosing descriptive adjectives and nouns, none of which their mothers would endorse.
Real Chiefs have rows of hard-earned, worn, and faded ribbons, but know that ribbons don’t make you a Sailor.
Real Chiefs are matured like good whisky in steel hulls over many years.
Real Chiefs aren’t the kind of guys you thank; monkeys in zoos don’t spend a lot of time thanking the guy who makes them do tricks for peanuts.
Real Chiefs are the standard by which you measure all others.
Real Chiefs were educated at the other end of an anchor chain from Copenhagen to Singapore.
Real Chiefs never excuse being late, not helping a shipmate, or running out of coffee.
Real Chiefs never spill a drink.
Real Chiefs never drink and drive because you might hit a bump and spill a drink.
Real Chiefs never go to sick call.
Real Chiefs have to go out and bring everyone back.
Real Chiefs know that you never wrestle with a pig because you both get dirty, and the pig likes it.
Real Chiefs never argue with an idiot because people watching may not be able to tell the difference.
Real Chiefs observe everything, but admire nothing.
Real Chiefs know that they will always get what they in-spect, not what they ex-pect.
Real Chiefs agreed with John Wayne when he said, “Life is tough! But it’s tougher when you’re stupid!”
Real Chiefs know that no sailor is completely worthless, because worst case, they serve as a good bad example.
Real Chiefs know that there’s no help program like a self-help program.
Real Chiefs will tell you that, “If you are going to do something stupid, at least be smart about it.”
Real Chiefs can write up anyone they want.
Real Chiefs are the ultimate paradox. On the one hand they don’t give a crap, but on the other hand, Real Chiefs are very careful and precise.
Real Chiefs can find the best bar in any port by dead reckoning.
Real Chiefs paint their houses Navy Grey with their addresses taken from their favorite hull number.
Real Chiefs have a red and green buoy at the end of their driveways.
Real Chiefs eat lightning and crap thunder.
Real Chiefs consider a hurricane to be good sea trials.
Real Chiefs are the Navy.
Real Chiefs think that Ensigns, like diapers, should be changed often and for the same reason.
Real Chiefs know that once a job is fouled up, anything done to improve it only makes it worse.
Real Chiefs assume nothing is so simple that it cannot be misunderstood and they act accordingly.
Real Chiefs have only one rule on liberty: Yield to temptation; it may never pass your way again.
Real Chiefs never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.
Real Chiefs never take the advice of someone who has not had their kind of trouble.
Real Chiefs know that if it is stupid but works, it is not stupid.
Real chiefs will tell you that you can survive on charm for about 5 minutes, after that, you’d better know something.
Real Chiefs know that assumption is the mother of all screw-ups.
Real Chiefs never assume, they get the facts.
Real Chiefs do not confuse efforts with results.
Real Chiefs will give you three choices in any situation; change, accept, or leave the Navy.
Real Chiefs think “Hail to the Chief” was originally intended for CPOs.
Great doctors, they do all they can to help just to have some accountant tell them they can’t do that. And the Patient Advocate is a joke.