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OK, things may have changed a lot since I was in, we were just changing over from black powder and such, but despite all of the objections about how tough it is to check out a gun, or how it's not allowed, or one has to be involved in an official capacity, I used to check out a .45 and go around parts of NY and NJ armed with great regularity.

So how did I accomplish this amazing feat?

Well, I was a Gunner's Mate, and in charge of the armory on ship and I was the one to see to check out a gun, so I essentially could sign out a gun to myself, countersigned by an officer of course, but that was usually a mere formality: "What's going on Longley?" "Making a run to Earle, Sir." "OK" Earle Naval Ammuniton Depot in New Jersey.

I would check out a truck from the motor pool for a trip to Earle to pick up small arms ammo for training, or drop off ammo boxes or one thing or another. Normally one of these trips required a driver with a Navy license and a Gunner’s Mate, but since I had a Navy license I fulfilled both roles and only had to take a passenger when I was actually transporting ammo, not empty boxes.

Dressed in dungarees and ball caps, usually not much in the way of identifying markings on the uniforms, most often in company of an officer in his version of fatigues, with a sidearm, sometimes with another enlisted.

Of course coffee stops were mandatory, sometimes without hats on, and even lunch at a diner, and also of course, ammo trucks, even with nothing but empty ammo boxes had to be placarded as ammo trucks, which meant we were not allowed to take the tunnels, so we had to cross from Brooklyn to New Jersey across Manhattan. And sometimes we just had to stop for lunch in Manhattan. And ammo truck drivers and passengers had to be armed, and I was in charge of the guns in the armory, etc, etc, etc.

We raised a few eyebrows, but nobody ever questioned us, or me when I was making a run alone.