 Men off to sea, a scene repeated hundreds of times daily around the world. But for these men, there is a difference. They are sailors of the United States Navy, off on a routine cruise to the Mediterranean. The ship they sail binds them closely to our seafaring past. In the months to come, these men will live close to the sea and close to one another. They are destroyer men, sailors of the ocean's greyhounds. The board of destroyer seems harsh by design. There are no frills to these ships. They are built for running and turning and firing. Few ships are rougher in foul weather. Fewer still can recover from heels so sharp that seawater rolls down the stacks. But the destroyer can take it. And so can the destroyer men. To carry out its mission, the destroyer must keep on the move. Must be ready to perform on a moment's notice. At sea, on station, she takes on supplies on the go. A job that must be done often, for her tight spaces leave little room for extra stores. Each man has a number of duties. There is simply no room on board to house a specialist for every job. Fire control technicians, storekeepers, yeoman, become line handlers and rigors. It is to destroyers that many new officers and men are assigned to learn quickly and first hand the complex workings of a ship. A multitude of tasks, some commonplace, some highly technical, each demanding and basic to naval operations. If the Navy's larger ships, the heavy cruisers and carriers, are the cities of the fleet, then the destroyers are the small towns. Much of the work aboard a destroyer is routine. A feeling of isolation creeps in. You know you're stuck in the middle of an ocean, but then that's one reason for constant work. To keep busy. The physical confines of a destroyer come out in the nature of her men. Her crew is proud, close-knit, yet personable, even a little gossipy. When asked to describe life aboard a destroyer, or what pulls men to these ships, almost the first words off a destroyer man's lips are, it's like a family. A destroyer is a fighting ship. General Quarters drills are as much a part of the routine as the ocean itself. A destroyer performs several fighting roles. But whether it's anti-submarine warfare or anti-aircraft defense, these are peacetime exercises for wartime work. A destroyer mounts a weapon for every job, to go after everything from a patrol boat to a ship three times her own size, or even a stretch of coastline. Warfare is largely a game of patience. You wait and watch and make your move. Then every action must be fast and precise. For those small moments in the life cycle of a destroyer, you practice constantly. Every sailor has a favorite liberty port. Many of them are in the Mediterranean. Naples, Gibraltar, Nice, Istanbul. The Mediterranean area is sometimes referred to as the cradle of civilization. To the destroyer man, liberty here is a welcome respite from ship's routine. A chance to meet other people and learn their customs. For the destroyer man, souvenirs are more than mementos from a new port of call. Almost always they bring to mind thoughts of another faraway place. And those at home. A liberty call occupies but a brief moment in the span of a cruise. Often no more than 24 hours. Then it's back to sea. Back again to the routine that is so much a part of a destroyer man's life. Ahead, more hard work. More miles to cover and more ports of call. Each bringing the destroyer man closer to home.