Life, 1922-01-26 · page 13 of 34
Life — January 26, 1922 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes how former Navy sailors, upon discharge after World War I, are transitioning into civilian life with mixed results. The humor focuses on the culture clash: sailors trained in naval discipline and maritime culture struggle to adapt to domestic settings and social conventions. The specific anecdotes ridicule various types: James Turtle, an artist whose creative impulses can't be suppressed (he paints during dinner); Old Bill Berry, a dancer who cannot restrain himself from performing at formal occasions; and Fields, a butler who uses nautical language and naval habits (mentioning "the captain") in civilian households. The final panel references alcohol and masculine nostalgia, with the character Will Anchor mourning naval life through drink. The satire gently mocks the difficulty these working-class men face adjusting to peacetime civilian employment.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- LIFE The Navy Ashore What may happen when we begin to absorb into domestic industry the sailors from our scrapped battleships When Mrs. Van Pynn engaged James Turtle as second-man, she did not realize that she was getting an artist of the first water and champion tattooist of the Pa- cific fleet, and when he found the butler napping, shortly before Mrs. Van Pynn’s first big dinner of the season, he simply could not repress the artist’s creative impulse Ds os Old Bill Berry, of the gay crew of the U. S. S. Maryland, simply could not re- sist dancing the hornpipe. And so when Mrs. Prissey gave a musical tea to the French Ambassador and his wife, Bill wrecked her social ship right there and then, by starting his dance just as the guests of honor arrived. Mrs. Prissey simply couldn't explain You would never suspect that Fields, the cor- rect butler at Mrs. Aspinwell’s, is none other than “Cut-plug Joe,” one-time bosun of the U. S. S. Nevada. Thus, when he burst into the card- room with, “Ahoy the missus, the captain’s compliments, and the car brought up in irons with her bow through the sun parlor. Captain club hauled under quarterdeck and requests immediate salvage operations,” it is no wonder that Mrs. Aspinwell spoke to him a little sharply Mrs. Widger had never had such a good worker as Will Anchor, former gunner’s mate in the Atlantic squadron, and be- cause she was rather deaf she was un- mindful of the tuneful chanteys with which the old salt enlivened his work while she discussed the horrors of alco- hol with her old friend Bishop Brom- well. Thus: “Oh, whisky is the life of man, Whisky Johnny, [ll drink of whisky when I can, Oh, whisky for my Johnny.” comicbooks.com