When our ship returned from WESTPAC the brass at headquarters must have thought we did a good job because they arranged an extra special treat for us. At the Pacific end of the Canal a USO troupe of dancers came aboard to escort us through the locks and lakes. They would go back ashore at the Caribbean end and we would have the pleasure of their company on the long passage through the Isthmus. We had already done the trip through on the way out, from East to West, so it wasn't new for us. But it still took all day to make the passage, and the crew, particularly Navigation Division, was very busy guiding the ship through the long, narrow waterway.

The girls, of course, were gorgeous. All in their late teens or early twenties (about our age) not only had they been selected for their looks, but their dancing kept them all firm and tight. They wore very short blue mini-skirts, tight red sleeveless teeshirts, Navy white hats and killer high heels. In contrast, after some eight months at sea, we were all slack and pasty from starchy food and lack of exercise and pale from working below. Our fatigue dungarees were ragged and stained. None of them seemed to have zits but we all seemed to be covered with them, and they all had glossy long hair while we were all sporting buzz cuts. They had obviously been briefed to be friendly and make small talk with us, but they roamed the ship in pairs, always with chaperones or officers nearby. But they seemed to have a lot of trouble going up and down narrow ladders and whether we were above or below them, we didn't mind waiting and helping while they slowly and deliberately negotiated them.

They were the first round-eyed girls we'd seen in months. We had no doubt whatsoever that if we met any of them on the beach in our dress whites they wouldn't bother to give us the time of day. We were glad to see them go ashore at the Caribbean end and for the first few days after we were underway again the ship seemed strangely quiet and we kept mostly to ourselves.