Clyde McGee was a tall, lanky, hairy-armed Scot — a real man's man — but over the many years I knew him, he was always kindhearted, soft-spoken, and witty. His most memorable trait was his sense of humor. As kids, his sons and I spent hours listening to his hilariously ribald aphorisms, jokes, and sea stories, and his many unprintable-but-true tales of his adventures in both the brown- and blue-water Cold War Navy often left us with aching sides and eyes filled with tears of laughter. He was, as we say in Texas, a Hoot.
But my uncle was no mere storyteller. He was among the last examples of the Real Navy — a boatswain's mate, a master of decorative ropework, and a true marlinspike seaman. Our modern Navy is full of fine men and women, but the ascendence of shipboard automation has made many of the things my uncle did obsolete. They don't make sailors like Clyde J. McGee any more.
My uncle was a Mensch. He was a tough customer who knew how to suffer without whining about it. He grew up in the worst of circumstances — as part of a family of sharecroppers in a Depression-era Mississippi cotton patch — but did not allow his hard upbringing to turn him bitter. (He did hate cotton until his dying day.) Later in life, he lost a lung due to service-related injuries, but did not use that injury as an excuse for laziness; instead, he continued to work long hours as an armed security officer until his second retirement. My uncle was unfailingly kind and fair to everyone, but he did not like bullies, goldbrickers, or cheats. He expected everyone to pull his own weight, as he unfailingly did.
He was also not the biggest fan of certain famous civil rights leaders of the 1960s, although his distaste for them was on the grounds of their politics, not their race. He married a Japanese girl when it was not at all the thing to do, after all. Together with her, he raised three fine American sons — plus many of us nieces and nephews.
He was a loving man: he loved his God, his family, and the USS MIDWAY until the day he died. You can still see his fancy knotwork on display as you cross the quarterdeck of that famous ship in San Diego.
He inspired me to join the Navy, and to many other things as well. I owe him a great deal.
I'll always miss him. May his name never be forgotten.
Thank you for sharing that moving account with us on this Memorial Day.
Sounds like a real Sea Daddy B-Chan, you were fortunate to have a Uncle such as that.
Your uncle sounds like a good man to have known. Please accept my respects on his passing.
-QMC, USN (ret).
Nam Vet
Thanks for posting. Condolences.
Thanks to all who have served, all who are serving and all who will serve in the future.
America’s finest.
RIP. Prayers for your family.
Here’s to the BMC! I’m sure Clyde taught many of our finest how do do thier jobs well, and pass on that legacy.
Fair Winds, Chief
-BUC(SCW)Retired