“Rangers vs. Navy. They cleared a wrestling gym down on fourth deck, forward. Put matting down in one of the empty bomb storage lockers. It should be good fun to watch.” “Young-buck Rangers and old-hand Navy defending their own ship,” a passing fuelie, Navy flight-deck service guy, stopped to join the conversation. “Hey, Sly,” Trisha teased him, “almost didn’t recognize a grape without his jumpsuit. Does it come with booties?” When on the flight deck, all Navy personnel wore color-coded clothing. Because he worked with fueling aircraft, Sly wore a bright purple vest, hence the grape nickname. You’d think red meant fuel, but that prize went to the munitions guys. “And a flap door in the back. You betcha, O’Malley.” They both knew that no matter how hot the weather was, he spent his worki