The Navy’s public affairs office released a promotional package Tuesday showcasing “operational excellence aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln,” featuring photographs of sailors enjoying surf-and-turf dinners in a recently renovated mess facility and relaxing in berthing compartments described as “first-class accommodations comparable to civilian hospitality standards.” The materials, distributed to congressional appropriations committees and defense journalists, emphasize the carrier strike group’s commitment to “warfighter wellness” and “quality of life modernization.”
The photographs depict three sailors in dress whites cutting into what appears to be prime rib and Maine lobster tail, seated at a table with white tablecloths and fresh flower arrangements. The accompanying press release notes that “all personnel enjoy restaurant-quality dining and climate-controlled sleeping quarters,” citing a $47 million renovation program completed in 2023.
“The flowers were plastic,” said Jeb Narroo, a machinist’s mate third class who has been stationed aboard the Lincoln for fourteen months and who ate his dinner—rehydrated eggs and a tortilla with no filling—from his rack in a berthing compartment housing 120 sailors with two functioning showers. “They moved us out of the frame. Told us to hide. I’ve eaten lobster once. In Norfolk. Before deployment. Now I eat sadness. With hot sauce. Which I brought. From home.”
The “first-class accommodations,” according to Reno Borja, an aviation boatswain’s mate who has not had hot water access for twenty-three days, consist of “mold and regret.” “I sleep in a coffin,” Benja explained, adjusting his cover. “Stacked. Like cords of wood. Or prisoners. The photo showed three guys. In a room. With windows. I’ve seen windows. On the flight deck. Through binoculars. While working. For nineteen hours. The X-rays don’t lie, and neither do my rashes. Which are extensive.”
Joe Barron, who once stayed at a Holiday Inn Express near a naval base in 2017 and now consults on “maritime hospitality assessment,” analyzed the promotional materials. “The steak looked real,” Barron declared from his booth at a Golden Corral. “The lobster. Red. Like communism. Or sunburn. Which I got. Once. In Florida. Not at sea. Where there is no sun. Only work. And gruel. Which I’ve eaten. At this buffet. Before the steak.”
Barron has offered to inspect the Lincoln’s facilities, provided the Navy allows him to wear his custom “Navigational Nutritionist” blazer and bring his emotional support ferret, which he claims can detect “operational excellence from the salad bar.”
The Navy called the allegations “isolated complaints inconsistent with fleet-wide quality standards,” prompting Barron to note that “isolation is the first stage of mutiny,” calculate that the statement was released at 3:33 PM, and observe that “3 plus 3 plus 3 equals 9, which is the number of months until these sailors rotate home to actual food and functioning plumbing.”
