A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “The funny thing about firemen is, night and day, they are always firemen.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Run!… Go!… Get to the Choppa!!!”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   She’s walking down the street
   Blind to every eye she meets
   Do you think you’ll be the guy
   To make the queen of the angels sigh?

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Somewhere in the South Pacific, 1975
Aboard the aircraft carrier, USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63)

“Another day in paradise, eh, Chet?”

“Livin’ the Dream, Glenn. Livin’ the Dream!”

My nickname during my short 4-year enlistment in the Navy was Chet Adkins. Some smartass at NAS Agana, Guam, my first duty station, started calling me that when I first reported for duty in November 1973. I played guitar and sang country music—it “fit.”

Straight outta ABH “A” School in Lakehurst, NJ, I spent three glorious weeks at home before heading overseas to Guam, my new home for 15 months.

A couple of years later and aboard Kitty Hawk, “Chet” stuck. I kinda like it, especially when I can wake the ship up with my KRAL Country morning radio show: “Good mornin’ to ya, Kitty Hawk. It’s six o’clock; time for the Country Chet Adkins show.”

Glenn Law, an ABH3, like me, had been my roommate in Guam. In fact, we both flew the same Northwest Orient 707 Freedom Bird back to the states. Glenn headed home to Kansas; I flew back to Florida. I spent more time at home than Glenn. He reported aboard Kitty Hawk a couple of weeks before me, allowing him to make the RIMPAC exercise.

Me? I got to spend three weeks in a San Diego Naval Station temporary holding company until the Hawk returned to North Island. Did I mention how much I hated the temp company? Boring as hell! Muster at 0730, clean the barracks—there were three of us—then spend the rest of the morning doing whatever we wanted until we mustered again at 1245. After that, we got the rest of the day off. Heck, I couldn’t even find any working parties to pass the time. Boring!

But I got over it, like an A.J. squared away sailor should.

The flight deck? Well, that’s where all the action is. I know there are more than 5,500 men aboard the ship. We all have our own jobs to do. But me? I like it up here. Fresh air, clear ocean water, pleasant breeze flowing down the deck—yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.

“Livin’ the Dream!”

FOD Walk down

We know flight operations will begin shortly. All flight deck personnel muster up at the bow for a FOD walk down. It’s rare that I find any “Foreign Objects” on the flight deck. But I know from what others have told me that anything—even as small as a wing nut—can cause significant damage to a jet engine.

I also know how important it is we keep these guys flying. We’re not at war—the “official” end of the Vietnam War was only several months ago. But I know we must remain alert in case… you know.

We’re both in the Air Department / V-1 Division, under Lieutenant Commander Robert Leone, a former A-4 Skyhawk pilot and now the Flight Deck Officer. Glenn and I walk side-by-side down the deck, bow to stern, with about 100 other airdales during the FOD walk down. We talk about nothing in particular, just family, our homes, the Navy… standard BS. We both made third class about the same time, though Glenn sewed his crow on a month before me.

It didn’t really matter… not to us. Shipmates for life!

Glenn is a Yellow Shirt director in Fly 2, under ABH1 Mike Alford, another good friend. Mike Alford is a short, broad-shouldered, squared-away sailor, always following the book, so to speak. He’s also an expert on baseball and oldies music trivia and often just randomly throws out a question. “Chet. Who pitched a no-hitter against Detroit in 1969?”

Like I give a rat’s ass, Alford.

Still, Petty Officer Alford is a solid director and watches out for his Fly 2 Yellow Shirts & Blue Shirts.

I’m in Crash & Salvage, similar to what I did in Guam. Only the flight deck on an aircraft carrier has slightly less driving and maneuvering space than an airfield with dual 8,000-foot parallel runways.

I’m one of two ABH3s in Crash; my good friend, Gary Borne is the other. We were both stationed in Crash at NAS Agana, Guam and assigned to the Port section—we worked 24 on and 24 off. In fact, Gary taught me how to drive the Crash trucks on Guam. He’d left Guam before we did and was already aboard Kitty Hawk for several months before Glenn & I arrived.

CWO2 Tyrone Robuck, a Cajun from New Orleans, was the Air Bos’n and in charge of Crash. He’d been a former Marine with a couple of tours under his belt before joining the Navy. Along with ABH1 Jeff Atteberry and ABH2 Shelby “Big Willie” Williams, there were a total of 14 of us. Slim crew, but we all get along well and, I think, help each other out when needed.

Day’s First Launch

As the ship turns into the wind, we know what’s next: flight ops. Launch and recovery. The excitement and the challenges begin!

For the next 16 hours or so, we’ll launch aircraft, then recover them, only to launch them later during another cycle. Again and again, spaced out about one to two hours. The repetition may sound boring to some people, but for those of us serving on the flight deck of an active aircraft carrier, it’s “another day in paradise.”

Let’s just hope nothing goes wrong.

They say working on the flight deck is one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. Anything can go wrong, at any time. I don’t know if it’s more dangerous to launch aircraft or recover them. In the long run, it doesn’t matter… to me. My job is simple: wait for an aircraft to crash or catch fire, then put the fire out and rescue the pilot and crew. Simple. At least on paper.

Fortunately for me, that time had not yet happened.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the pilots emerge from the island superstructure after having just left their squadron briefings—their missions. Each walk directly to their assigned aircraft. Their names are stenciled on their aircraft, just below the canopy on the outside. That’s about the only way we peons on the flight deck get to know these aviators.

The two SH-3 helicopters, both HS-8 “Eightballers,” have already launched. These “plane guards” will circle the ship all during launch & recovery just in case… you know, someone goes into the drink.

Birds in the Air

Next up, the E-2C “Hawkeye;” our “forward eyes,” so to speak. They’ll be flying around for a while, keeping a wide “eye” out for any potential threats with sophisticated radar and direct communications with the ship’s Combat Information Center.

I like to watch these babies launch: smooth, steady, and graceful, unlike many of the other aircraft aboard. I’m not so crazy about recovering them, though. Their wide wingspan doesn’t leave much room for error, especially in rough seas.

Once the plane guards and the Hawkeye launch, the fun begins.

A-7 Corsairs, F-4 Phantoms, A-6 Intruders, EA-6 Prowlers, the RA-5C Vigilante, S-2 Spoofs, and the A-3 Whale. No particular order, just about 15 aircraft lined up and raring to go.

I always liked the first launch of the day. That is, unless I’m directly behind the Jet Blast Deflector, choking down that hot jet exhaust. Geez, a fella could only take so much.

I watch in comical horror as one of the rookie Blue Shirts is blown down by a turning jet. The Yellow Shirt Director sees it, but it’s too late. Fortunately, the jet was turning, so the Blue Shirt’s training kicks in and he grabs a flight deck padeye, holding on for dear life. Then, when no more exhaust is blowing his way, he stands up, looking around, somewhat embarrassed.

We’ve all been there & done that—more times than I care to count. As he stands looking around and hoping no one else witnessed his misfortune, he spots a few dozen different colored jerseys giving him the thumbs up and clapping. “Welcome to the club!”

And those words continue in my head, even today: “Always keep your head on a swivel.”

“Stand By To Recover Aircraft”

After the first launch, the Yellow Shirts—following instructions from the Handler—move, or “spot,” the aircraft around the flight deck, making them ready for the second launch of the day. They need to move quickly so we can get these guys off the flight deck, respot the remaining aircraft in time to recover the first group of aircraft we’d launched just an hour earlier. Aircraft can only fly so far on a tank of fuel.

The Phantoms use the most fuel in the shortest amount of time, so they’re usually recovered first. Of course, there’s a KA-6 Intruder retrofitted with extra fuel tanks circling above just in case the Phantoms or Corsairs need to refuel in flight, but that’s rare.

It’s a well-orchestrated dance—man and machine, so to speak. But it’s one that’s repeated a dozen or so times a day, every day, when an aircraft carrier is at sea. It’s a performance like no other and like most flight deck airdales, one that you’ll find nowhere else in the world throughout your life. Well… at least for me.

Commander Davis, the Air Boss, announces over the 5MC, “Standby to recover aircraft.”

Another type of excitement. While I usually roam around the flight deck during launches, my recovery station is alongside the foul line, hovering around the Crash tractor—a converted MD-3 aircraft tow tractor. I see Munoz & Carrasco manning it, Munoz driving. Good crew, good friends.

Borne & I hang back to ensure the Crash tractor is between us and the recovering aircraft. You know… just in case.

My good friend, Jimmy Smith—another ABH3—is up at the angle at the end of the recovery area. He’ll direct the aircraft out of the recovery area once they’re safely on the deck. That’s an exciting job I hope one day to experience. But for now, I just wait and watch aircraft land and/or bolter, going around for another chance to recover.

First in are the F-4 Phantoms. We carry two squadrons of those aboard Kitty Hawk during Westpac ’75. VF-114 “Aardvarks” and VF-213 “Black Lions.” Both have been around for a while.

I love the Phantoms. These deadly fighter aircraft remind me of the top-fuel dragsters back home at Gatornationals, like my all-time favorite, Don Garlits. Lean and mean, and what speed and power. There’s nothing like watching a Phantom launch at night in full afterburner.

First one in catches the number two wire—Kitty Hawk has four arresting gear cables strung across the recovery area of the flight deck: #1 closest to the fantail. Hopefully, landing aircraft will catch one of them. The goal is to catch #3—at least, that’s what they tell me.

Flight ops “cycles” continue throughout the day and night. Many (MANY) times, Kitty Hawk flight ops would start about 1000 and continue past midnight during Westpac ’75. There were only 14 of us in Crash and, from what I remember, 11 of us needed to be on deck during flight ops, including an hour before and an hour later. That made for a long day. But when you’re at sea, “what else ya gonna do?”

An Oh-Crap Moment

We’d been through several cycles, had a quick lunch, and now back on deck. It’s about 1500 hours and we’re in recovery mode, having just launched about 18 aircraft.

Navy aircraft that operate aboard a carrier have a tail hook that extends lower than the landing gear for obvious reasons. They’re held down by hydraulic pressure, so (hopefully) they don’t bounce over the arresting gear cables as the aircraft touches down on the flight deck.

It’s not that uncommon, however, when a jet comes in too steep, hits the flight deck hard and causes the tail hook to “bounce” over the cable. Pilots apply power when they land, just in case something like this happens. Then (hopefully), if the tail hook misses the cables, the aircraft has enough power to take off, circle around, and try to recover again.

Gary, Glenn, and I are standing alongside the foul line—our usual place, next to the Crash tractor. An F-4 Phantom from the VF-114 “Aardvarks” squadron makes his final approach.

We’d all watched aircraft approach thousands of times, both on the flight deck, and on the shipboard PLAT (Pilot Landing Aid Television). This one was no different. The pilot is on the 180, then banks and turns toward the ship, following the LSO (Landing Signal Officer) instructions. All looks normal.

For some reason, though, the F-4’s tail hook didn’t catch any of the cables, so he boltered. No big deal, we’d witnessed this dozens of time.

But this time… this time… when the Phantom pilot applies full power, the horizontal stabilizer locks, and the aircraft goes vertical, nose up. We anxiously watch as the pilot applies afterburners… struggling to keep his jet airborne. But with a nose-up attitude and not much speed, the jet is obviously stalling.

This is an “Oh Shit” moment… for all of us on the flight deck.

We watch (and pray) as the pilot and RIO (Radar Intercept Officer) punch out about 800 feet up, ejecting safely. We know the aircraft will be lost to Davy Jones with no chance of recovery. But fortunately, the crewmen gently parachute down into the ocean on our starboard side. The SH-3 plane guard helo is there within a few minutes.

Both crewmen are quickly recovered, and neither injured. We weren’t quite sure what went wrong, but it was explained to us later that it was an “equipment malfunction.” That’s the Navy’s way of saying it’s none of your effin’ business.

That was okay by me—at least he didn’t crash on the flight deck. And besides that, we still had more aircraft to recover and many, many more launch & recovery cycles.

The time it took from the Phantom’s wheels first touching the deck to nose up attitude to punch out was less than ten seconds. Another thirty minutes to fish the crew out of the water and safely return them to the ship. Yeah… shit happens fast on the flight deck.

“It’s another fine day in the Navy.”

Until we meet again,
Andy

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Answers

1. Gregory Widen.
2. Predator (1987), “Dutch” (Arnold Schwarzenegger).
3. Hello, I Love You (1968), The Doors; written by James Morrison, John Densmore, Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger.

Previous posts mentioned in this blog:

• #53—You Always Remember Your First…
• #39—Good Morning to ya, Kitty Hawk!
• #54—Westpac ’75 Aircraft Carrier Squadrons
• #61—There’s a Reason for the Flight Deck “Foul Line”
• #3—Between a Rock and a Hard Place