A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “A boy’s best friend is his mother.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear:
   Your eyes, I say your eyes may look like his
   Yeah, but in your head, baby
   I’m afraid you don’t know where it is

We weren’t at war…

The “official” end of the Vietnam War was April 30, 1975. I’d reported aboard the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63), just thirty days prior. She was moored at North Island, just across the bay from San Diego. She’d also just returned from a 30-day RIMPAC (Rim of the Pacific) exercise, readying her for the next overseas deployment: Westpac ’75, my one and only Westpac.

After 15 months of Crash & Rescue Division on NAS Agana, Guam (’73-75), I took three weeks leave back home in Gainesville, Florida. While I enjoyed time at home with my parents, sister, and friends, I was itchin’ to get to my next duty station—Kitty Hawk. The only problem was that I arrived in San Diego while she was on RIMPAC. So, I learned what TDY (Temporary Duty) really stood for while at San Diego Naval Station: BORING…

Westpac ‘75

Fast forward a few months… we were on Westpac ’75, forward deployed to the Philippines Islands (PI). For six months, we’d be in and out of PI seven times before heading back home to the states in November 1975. Usually, we’d spend a couple of weeks cruising around in the South China Sea, then back to port. Now and then, we’d port in a different location. For Westpac ’75, besides PI, we spent six days in Hong Kong and six days in Yokosuka, Japan. I’ve written about those liberties in prior posts.

During the Westpac ’75, flight operations usually began mid-morning around 10 and continued well into the night, usually around midnight. Since I worked in V-1 Division / Crash, we had to have a minimum crew of 11 on the flight deck at least an hour before flight ops began and remain an hour after they ended.

That made for many long 16-18-hour days. But wait… there’s more.

Night Shift

When we headed down after flight ops, the night shift came up. But they were usually up on deck to help by nine. My good friend, Gary Borne (R.I.P.), loved the night shift. Me? It was too boring for me. But it worked out for both of us. He & I were the only two ABH3s (Aviation Boatswains Mate-Handler, 3rd Class Petty Officers) in Crash, so we had to split the shifts between us.

After a quick 3-minute Navy shower, I’d climb into my rack sometime after midnight. We’d muster after chow the next morning on the flight deck. However, since I was also one of Kitty Hawk’s DJs (KRAL, The Country Chet Adkins Show), my 2-hour spot was 0600-0800. So, I’d be up a little earlier than the others, ready for “another day in paradise.”

That was our normal routine while at sea during Westpac ’75… until we cruised through the Sea of Japan.

Sea of Japan

I don’t know why, but that particular trip was not one to forget. Besides catching the tail end of a typhoon, and one of our longest at-sea cruises without hitting a port—five weeks—the captain decided to fly a few days around the clock.

Since there were only 14 of us in Crash, that meant we’d have to rotate shifts. Normally, there would be 11 of us on the flight deck and three on the night shift. But since we were flying around the clock, there would need to be 11 of us on deck at all times. We’d have to rotate the crews so some could grab some rack time. In other words, when you fly around the clock, it’s all hands-on deck, literally.

Fortunately, no major emergencies occurred, so flight ops continued. We just had to figure out what crews were on what units. We had one MB-5 Oshkosh fire truck with a crew of four, and two MD-3 Crash tractors with a driver & firefighter. Both Gary & I took our turns driving all the vehicles, giving others some down time.

Colder than Cold

I’m from the south… Florida, born & raised. Hot & humid summers, much like PI and the South China Sea, except when your at sea on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, you usually have a nice breeze blowing down the deck.

Usually on the flight deck in the South China Sea, the weather was warm and all I wore on the flight deck was a pair of Army ODs, a red crash jersey, a red float coat, my boots and socks, and a cranial helmet. When we were in between flight ops, we would strip off our shirts which was fine in calm seas because there was not any danger of being blown off the deck. Besides, it was hot, the sun felt good, and we worked on our tans.

But the Sea of Japan… after we left Yokosuka and circumnavigated Japan? Well, I’d never seen snow before (that would come the following year when Kitty Hawk was in the Bremerton Shipyards).

I wore my thermal long johns, my sweater, my Navy foul weather jacket, my rain gear, my aviator knit cap and even with all that on, it was still freezing cold. And, we flew around the clock in that cold weather.

Chow Time

I know we tried rotating our crew down to the chow line, but when you stand in the chow line with thousands of your closest friends for an hour, then spend five minutes choking down anything and everything, then back to the flight deck, well… it’s next to impossible to get everyone fed.

Fortunately, Kitty Hawk had a Gedunk shop (think of a NYC bodega) with sardines, crackers, and Cheez Whiz, which was another alternative.

But one thing we figured out was that we couldn’t get all our crew down to chow. Instead, we’d get the chow up to the flight deck. Several times, we called down and ordered box lunches (think of bologna & cheese, or “HC,” as we called them, and chips and, if we were lucky, a cookie).

Other times, especially during this transit through the Sea of Japan, where it was freezing cold rounding the northern part of the country, we’d bring up a 25-gallon container of hot soup. Of course, lugging it up several ladders from the galley deck to the flight deck took two guys. But… boy, it was worth it.

Nap Time

I’ve learned over the years that it doesn’t matter if you were Navy, Army, Marine, Air Force, or Coast Guard. When you put in long hours, you cleverly find ways to catch a few winks. It’s amazing that only a few years ago, the corporate world started using the term “power naps.”

I hate to break it to you, but the military figured that one out a long time ago. Anywhere and everywhere.

I’ve seen guys lying down in catwalks; I’ve seen guys sleeping on the wing of a parked aircraft on the flight deck; I’ve seen guys flaked out on a plain metal sitting chair. I, myself, learned how to maneuver my 6’4” frame on the floorboard of a Crash firetruck.

When you fly around the clock, you have to find ways to “power nap,” so you can get through your shifts.

I remember one time during this Sea of Japan transit I worked a straight 36-hour shift. Yes, of course, I found time to eat and to cat nap, but it’s one of those things that I can look back on and say… “yeah, I’ve done that. Once is enough for me.”

Flight Ops

We still continued regular flight operations for those days, around the clock. Cycling aircraft every 1½ hours, launch 15-20 aircraft, respot the flight deck for recovery. Then recover the previous cycle’s aircraft, respot the flight deck for the next launch. It never ended and when you do this over and over again for days on end, you’d think it would get old.

But for this old flight deck airdale, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Finishing Up

During those times on the flight deck in the freezing cold… actually, now that I think about it, it was pretty much during my entire short 4-year Navy career… all of us in Crash and later out on the deck as a Yellow Shirt Director, we learned to watch each other’s back. The flight deck is no place to let your guard down; you have to keep your head on a swivel, and many (many) times someone would call me over the headset to move or get blown down by a turning jet’s exhaust.

I like to think that most of us veterans, no matter if we were Navy, Army, Marine, Air Force, or Coast Guard… we did our jobs the best we could and that included teamwork. That motivation carries with me even today. I’m 68 years old and still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up. But one thing’s for sure… I still try to watch out for others. And… I know others watch out for me. That’s been apparent this past couple of months.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Answers

1. Franklin D. Roosevelt.
2. Psycho (1960), Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins).
3. Somebody to Love (1967), Jefferson Airplane; written by Darby R. Slick.

Previous blogs mentioned in this post:

• #25—“Livin’ the Dream”: Life Aboard an Aircraft Carrier
• #54—Westpac ’75 Aircraft Carrier Squadrons
• #53—You Always Remember Your First…
• #20—Port Call: Philippines
• #43—Port Call: Hong Kong
• #19—The 3-Minute Navy Shower: A Luxury, Compared to…
• #39—Good Morning to ya’ Kitty Hawk!
• #23—Rough Seas—Sea of Japan
• #30—USS Kitty Hawk @ Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1

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Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books. His newest novel, NEVER FORGET, is the story of A Vietnam Veteran’s Journey for Redemption & Forgiveness. NEVER FORGET is FREE (eBook, PDF) for all veterans. Download your FREE copy HERE.