When I reported to the Norfolk Navy Yard as a newly commissioned ensign in October 1941, I was surprised to be told that official calls on my seniors were not required; all such calls were assumed to have been made and returned. The official explanation was that they took up time that could be better devoted to the war effort, but that order was issued by the shipyard commander, Rear Admiral Felix X. Gygax (USNA ‘07, known in the Navy as “Mr. X,” shortly after this incident occurred.
A senior lieutenant up from the ranks had made his call on Admiral and Mrs. Gygax early in the week. That Saturday night he was on a binge with pals and awoke Sunday afternoon in his walk-up flat with a fearful hangover. The place was a mess and he looked worse. In order to muster enough energy to shave and dress, he called the neighborhood pub to send up a six-pack of cold beer. Sometime later there was a knock on his door, which he opened and bellowed, “What in hell took you so long!” And there stood Admiral and Mrs. Gygax returning his call.
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