A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “The only person you should try to be better than, is the person you were yesterday.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Nobody is gonna hit as hard as life, but it ain’t how hard you can hit. It’s how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.”?
3. Who sang, (and what song) the following:
   Every time I’m down
   You’re the one who comes to my mind
   Look to deep your love
   You’re the one that I dream of

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According to the reliable sources on the Internet, the “true” definition of Orienteering is a sport that requires navigational skills using a map and compass to navigate from point to point in diverse and usually unfamiliar terrain whilst moving at speed.

The keywords are: map, compass, and skills.

Some of us veterans spent time in the scouts as a youngster. One thing the scouts taught me was to use a map and a compass. It’s up to you to acquire the skills of actually using a map & compass.

These days and times, a “map” is not necessarily a GPS or a non-re-foldable piece of paper made by Michelin. And a “compass” is certainly not a device that always points to the North Pole.

When you’ve worked on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, like I did (USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63, ’75-77), I didn’t need a map or a compass, since someone else used those tools to make sure the ship headed in the right direction. Instead, I had to learn a different set of skills, but it didn’t come all at once.

It took a while to build up to that skill—one that I continued to use throughout my career(s) and even today in retirement.

As Desi Arnaz used to say, “Let me ‘splain.” (Apologies to I Love Lucy fans)

My Navy “Orienteering” Journey

I want to say it began in boot camp (Orlando RTC, Company #163; July 1973). But it actually started a year earlier in my first year of college. At 17 years old, I couldn’t wait to leave the parental units in Gainesville, Florida. I started my brief one-year college career at Florida State University in Tallahassee, Florida. I wrote about that earlier: “From Civilian to US Navy.”

Long story short: my attention span back then was that of a gnat. So after three quarters (FSU was on the quarter system) of the college basics—reading, writing, & partying—I flunked out. I’d changed my major three times, from Biology to Marine Biology to Physical Education.

Even with that last major, FSU sent me (and my parents) my report card—0.7 GPA—with a “Dismissed for Academic Reasons” letter.

So, I changed majors one more time and enlisted in the United States Navy for four years. Like many of my fellow “shipmates”—those I served with as well as others I’ve never met—it was the best decision I’d ever made.

And while I was only in for Three Years, Eleven Months, & 29 Days (But Who’s Counting), I had a great “career.” I actually wrote & published a book with that title, in case you’re interested.

Boot Camp

I had no earthly clue what I was getting myself into. But the day before I left Tallahassee to head home that final trip (I worked at a scuba dive shop, which was one reason I joined the Navy and not follow my dad’s footsteps into the Army), my good friends, Barry Kerley, a US Army veteran, and Tom Kelly, a US Navy veteran, both told me what to expect in Boot Camp.

Basically, their advice was to keep my mouth shut and do what I’m told.

Later, I’d liken that sage advice to being married, but that’s another story <wide grin>. And before you ask, yes, I’m still married to the same sweet girl—we celebrate our 41st wedding anniversary next month.

As an aside, Becky’s mother, Marion, turned 100 years old last February. We celebrated her 100th at the retirement community… in a tent… behind a plexiglass barrier because of COVID. But we celebrated!

I wrote an earlier blog about that celebration, “100 Years Ago, Can You Imagine.” She’d been married for almost 75 years, but lost her husband, Dr. Rufus K. Broadaway, a few years earlier, at the tender age of 95. A reporter from the local newspaper asked her, “What was your secret to such a long-lasting marriage?” Without hesitation, Marion replied smugly. “I learned to keep my mouth shut.”

Sage advice.

Unfortunately, Marion passed away a few months in early December. She would’ve been 101 earlier this month. I wrote a short blog about her a few weeks ago, about the same time when Kitty Hawk began her final journey to Texas: “A New Chapter–Saying Goodbye to a Great Lady.”

Okay, Back to Boot Camp

I don’t know about you, but when I first arrived at Orlando Recruit Training Center, it was in the middle of July. Hot & humid. Yet the barracks was like a meat locker. After the first few days, you didn’t even notice the temperature swings from being outside to going inside, and vice versa.

It took me a while to figure out that even though I wanted to keep my mouth shut, mind my own business, and not stand out, the Company Commander (ADJ1 Tom Wright) asked if anyone could type. I stupidly raised my hand, and hence I began my journey as the Recruit Company Yeoman.

All because I could type.

It was a job I took seriously, though, especially during “Service Week,” where I and the RCPO (Recruit Chief Petty Officer) would put our heads together and assign various recruits of our company to the outlying units.

Yeah, I know you know what I’m talking about.

How many of you still call out, “Make a Hole,” when you’re in crowds. Throw in “Make a hole, service week,” and most people will look at you like you’re from another planet, but… they’ll move out of your way.

Introduction to Navy “Orienteering”

I didn’t know it at the time, but perhaps the most important trait of boot camp is that the RTC company commanders (I believe there are three of them now per company, compared to one back in my day) is to break each recruit down independently and build the entire company back up as a team. Because that’s what it takes in today’s military: team work.

That’s all military branches, mind you.

That is one of the most important traits I learned and continued to carry throughout my career(s).

“A” School

Back in the Navy Recruiter’s office in Tallahassee, I’d chosen “Aviation Boatswain’s Mate-Handler” as my rating (that is, my “job” in the Navy). I had no clue what that meant, but I’d soon learn that it was a great decision, working in Crash & Salvage, both in Guam and aboard an aircraft carrier. I mean, “Livin’ the Dream!,” right?

For civilians, Navy “A” School is where you learn your skills for your rating. ABHs “handle” aircraft, both moving them around on the flight deck and an aircraft firefighter. I was fortunate to do both in my brief career. “A” School for me was about six weeks, the same amount of time I spent in Boot Camp.

It wasn’t as “strict” as boot camp, and we had an “EM Club” (Enlisted Men’s club) right up the hill from the barracks. But the training—both classroom and hands on—were pretty easy for me. I knew I’d learn more once I arrived at my first duty station…

… NAS Agana, Guam.

While in A School, the Navy “asks” you where you want to go for your next duty station. It’s commonly called a “Dream Sheet,” primarily because while you tell the Navy where you’d like to go, most of the time, they send you where they want you to go. In my case, I asked for the West Coast, not knowing if I’d be assigned ship or shore duty.

NAS Agana, Guam was my home for 15 months. I’ve written several blog posts about Guam, all with different viewpoints. For me, Guam was great duty, albeit a long way from home.

It was also 1973 and even though the Vietnam War was “winding down,” there was still a possibility I could’ve been assigned duty there. Fortunately, I was not. Instead, the Navy sent me to a “paradise.”

I learned a great deal in Guam. Perhaps the best thing I came away with was a sense of something greater than me. It’s hard to describe—and I’ve heard the same from other military veterans, not just Navy. But you feel you’re a part of something that has a purpose.

I also learned to drive all the Crash firetrucks (we had five, plus a 5,000 gallon tanker); I learned how to work with my crew and they, with me. Yeah, it is team work—that same theme I’ve carried throughout my careers.

I was promoted to Third Class Petty Officer (ABH3) while in Guam. When you first make PO, you also become a “supervisor” of others, so to speak. Even though these are the same guys I’d been working closely with for the past year, I now had a different role. It would change again when I made ABH2 in the Bremerton Shipyards.

It took a long time for me to get used to being a new Petty Officer. But eventually, with the help of several other POs’ advice, I figured out how to work with my “friends” and shipmates whilst being their supervisor.

I also came away with a great appreciation for my family. This was, by far, the longest I’d ever been away from home. Back then, we didn’t have computers, email, or cell phones. We had to rely on letters, which took anywhere from 10 days to 2 weeks. I remember calling home only twice during my 15 months in Guam, just to hear my mom & dad’s voice at Christmas.

Now that I have kids of my own (and grandkids), I can certainly appreciate how my parents felt when I was miles away. Except today, I can pick up my cell phone, call, text, or video chat with everyone.

Time and technology have certainly changed over the years.

USS Kitty Hawk

Many of those who regularly read my blog know I worked on the flight deck of USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) as a Crash & Salvage aircraft firefighter during Westpac ’75 and later, after the Bremerton Shipyards, a Yellow Shirt Director.

I loved both jobs.

I’ve written many blogs about the excitement and challenges on the flight deck. That’s where I learned to always keep my head on a swivel, which I continue today.

Always be aware of all your surroundings.

When you work 16-18 hours a day while at sea, you learn to expect the unexpected. It could be walking around the flight deck at night, hardly able to see, because there were no bright lights. Even though you know your way around without getting lost, periodically, especially after a long day, you’d trip over that aircraft tie-down chain, and within a matter of seconds, reveal your entire Navy “four-letter” vocabulary.

I still have the shin scars from those blasted tie-down chains as well as those knee-knockers. Anyone else?

Perhaps the hardest lesson I learned was how to deal with death and losing a shipmate. I wrote about that earlier in a blog titled, “Gone in an Instant.” To this day, it’s not something you can forget.

At the time, you react to the emergency, based on your training and your team. It’s afterwards where your internal mechanisms seem to go a bit awry. I won’t go into details (I sorta did that in the earlier blog), but you look at life a little differently after witnessing something like that. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be the last time.

I know my Army & Marine veteran friends know exactly what I’m talking about.

After the Navy

After the Navy, I went back to school—this time, the University of Florida—and earned a BS in Electronics Engineering. It was easier this time around and I know it’s because I “grew up” in the Navy.

Navy “Orienteering.”

After a couple of jobs as an electronics engineer, I turned to consulting with lawyers. I was one of a handful of independent legal technology consultants in the country. Just like during the Navy, I learned to listen, ask questions, and hopefully, when I left, the clients were better off than when I first arrived.

I established the Legal Technology Institute at the University of Florida Levin College of Law and worked there for 13 years; 8 of which I was also the college’s Director of Information Technology.

I became the Chief Information Officer for a large West Virginia law firm with offices around the country, helping them grow with technology.

I also worked with a startup software development company for a couple of years as their CIO.

No, the above are not a resume and I’m not looking for a new job: I’m happily retired.

As I often say, life is a journey, one step at a time. Each job, each career takes your previous experience to help make this new opportunity the best.

It all began with Navy Orienteering.

And now in “retirement”—I’m still trying to figure out what that means—I’m writing. Not only this weekly blog, “A Veteran’s Journey,” but I’m also writing books, many of which I give away (FREE downloads) . I love the journey this takes me, still learning, still researching, and still sharing.

As I’ve gotten older, I find I don’t need to prove myself to anyone anymore. The only competition is to me is… me.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Answers

1. Matty Mullins.
2. Rocky Balboa (2006), Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone).
3. Give Me Love (Give Me Peach on Earth) (2003), George Harrison; written by George Harrison.

Previous posts mentioned in this blog:

• #4—From Civilian to US Navy
• #69—100 Years, Can You Imagine?
• #109—A New Chapter, Saying Goodbye to a Great Lady
• #53—You Always Remember Your First…
• #11—Letters from Home
• #36—Gone in an Instant