A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Whatever you do… don’t fall asleep.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   We skipped the light fandango
   Turned cartwheels ‘cross the floor
   I was feeling kinda seasick
   But the crowd called out for more

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My dad wrote in his diary, “You Can’t Get Much Closer Than This…” about sleeping in foxholes during World War II in Europe. Not occasionally, mind you, but most of his time over there. Except when he was evacuated to a hospital for a couple of months in England for an injury that happened when a German artillery shell hit a house he was in, acting as a forward observer for his mortar squad.

I’ve slept on the ground plenty of times, in a comfy sleeping bag, in a tent, during nice, cool spring and fall weather. My dad, on the other hand, slept in frozen foxholes in between artillery and mortar barrages, during the Battle of the Bulge. No comparison!

I have a lot of veteran friends, some Army and Marines, who experienced many of these same events my dad described. Trying to sleep in a shallow foxhole in the Vietnam jungle, listening for any twig that may snap or any footsteps during the night. No, you don’t really sleep, even though you know guards are posted.

Fortunately, I never experienced any of those conditions. My story about sleeping quarters is quite different. Yet, like my veteran friends, I learned to sleep almost anywhere, anytime.

Boot Camp

You’ll hear lots of veterans’ “tales” about their boot camp adventures. I can’t speak for the Army or Marine boot camps, though I heard rumors that the Air Force had room service in boot camp…

During those first few days in boot camp, we had a “special” type of alarm clock. You can actually find one at your local Lowe’s, Home Depot, or Walmart store; I’m not sure Target has them. But find yourself a 50-gallon galvanized—not plastic, mind you—garbage can and gently tap on it to see if it has a nice echo-ey sound. If not, find another one.

If you have teenage kids, it’s even more entertaining. Pick up that 50-gallon galvanized “alarm clock” and kick it into their room at, say, oh-four hundred (that’s 4:00 in the morning for civilians). And don’t stop with one kick. No, you gotta kick it up and down the entire barracks room several times.

That’s how we woke up those first few days during boot camp.

Sleep? I’m not sure we discovered that luxury until the second week of boot camp. I joined the Navy at 18 and went to Orlando RTC (Recruit Training Center) in July 1973… after I flunked out of college (see below). Our barracks held 80 recruits; racks (bunk beds) were stacked two high. I recall that after the first week, reveille was changed to 0500 and taps (lights out) was 2200 (10 p.m.). After those long days of Navy training, service week, and physical training, that rack was so comfortable, it didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

NAS Agana, Guam

My first duty station after “A” School (Aviation Boatswains Mate-Handler) was NAS Agana, Guam. I was assigned to the Crash & Rescue Division. We spent 24 hours on duty, then had 24 hours off before reporting back to duty. When on duty, our “home away from home” was the “Crash Barn,” located on the Tarmac, just off the airport runways. Basically, it was a firehouse with six Crash firetrucks; each truck had 4-5 crew members assigned to it.

Our job was simple; wait around for a plane to crash, then put out the fire and rescue the crew. I should also mention that the Navy shared the same runways with the civilian airport—we were responsible for their aircraft, too. Fortunately, during my 15-month tour in Guam, there were no crashes and no major fires.

Throughout the day and most of the night, Crash would maintain a truck on what was called the “Alert Spot” or “Hot Spot.” It was a designated area, located between the two parallel runways, about halfway down the runway. We’d spend two, 4-hour shifts on the hot spot. If you had the 0800-1200 shift, you’d also have the 2000-2400 (8p–12a) shift. Those weren’t too bad. It was the “dog” shift, noon to 4p and midnight to 4a, that was the worst.

It wasn’t bad during the day, and we could always get out of the truck and walk around. However, even though Guam is a beautiful island in the South Pacific, it’s not that far from the equator. There was always a nice breeze, but the hot spot was also in the direct sun. It could get toasty. But we’d find ways to either work on our tans or sleep in the shade of the truck.

At night, when you’re out there with four of your “closest” Navy friends, you’d get sleepy. We’d ensure at least one of us would stay awake, but I can guarantee you that there were times when we were all snoring, sleeping in the cab of a fire truck. You’d be surprised how comfy you can get in cramped quarters.

These little tricks of how and where to sleep would suit me well at my next duty station… an aircraft carrier.

USS Kitty Hawk

After I left Guam and a 3-week trip home to Florida, I reported to USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63, at Naval Air Station North Island (San Diego). Kitty Hawk would be my home for the next 2½ years. I was assigned to V-1 Division / Crash and worked on the flight deck. It was a challenging and rewarding time for me, and I loved almost every minute of it.

Instead of a room that slept 4 guys (my old renovated WWII barracks room in Guam), our berthing compartment housed 80 personnel. It was tight quarters, to say the least, but we made the most of it. After a normal 16- to 18-hour day working on the flight deck, that rack felt like heaven. But it wasn’t the only place we slept.

Crash has its own compartment in the island. It wasn’t big, but it was a place to get off the flight deck, grab a cup of coffee, or a quick nap. We often slept on the benches, the chairs, even the floor. It was a little quieter in the compartment, which opened to the starboard side of the ship, next to the “bomb farm.”

Many of us also found a quiet spot in the catwalk. For safety reasons, the entire flight deck is surrounded either by a catwalk, where you could walk, or by safety nets. The flight deck is about 60 feet above water, so it’s a long way to pay homage to Davy Jones. However, I’ve known guys who, at night, would crawl out onto the safety nets, lay down, and look up at the stars (or fall asleep). Me… no. I’d find a nice spot in a catwalk, surrounded by steel, but still open to the skies.

There was that time, however, in the Sea of Japan, where we flew around the clock. Because there were only 14 of us in Crash and I was one of two Third Class Petty Officers, I remember working a 36-hour shift. And the trick of sleeping in the cab of a Crash truck I learned in Guam paid off. It wasn’t comfortable, but I was tired enough, I curled up and slept on the floorboard.

And then, there was PI (Philippine Islands), our overseas homeport. PI had a midnight curfew, meaning you had to be off the streets by midnight or risk getting thrown in jail by the local police or, worse… shot.

Where did we sleep in PI? Well, it… uh… depends on… where you were and… um… who you were with.

And I think I’ll just leave it at that.  

There was that time…

Ichetucknee River – One of the reasons I joined the Navy was because I was into scuba diving. OK, yes, I flunked out of college with a 0.7 GPA. It wasn’t because it was the first time I’d been away from home. It wasn’t because the drinking age was 18 (though I was 17 at the time). No… I took a scuba diving class at FSU (Florida State University), which was my only “A” in three quarters of college.

Not too far from Tallahassee is a place known as Ichetucknee Springs. It’s now a state park (which is good), but back then, it was a local spot. The springs bubble out of a huge hole in the ground, creating a 10-20 foot wide river of crystal-clear water. Cold as the dickens, though. But most people would bring an inner tube, hop in at the head of the springs and float down the three miles to the takeout point. The entire trip would take about three hours.

Even though the water was cold, tubing down the Ichetucknee in the hot summer weather with a bunch of your high school / college friends was a great treat. And… because it wasn’t a state park back then, you could bring a cooler of beer or soft drinks, strap it on a tube, and grab a cold one anywhere along the way. The only problem was what to do with your empty can? Throw it back into the cooler? Oh no, that was too much trouble. Instead, you’d hold it under the water, fill it with fresh spring water, and let it drop to the bottom of the springs.

What?!? Yeah… that’s what I said.

Our scuba instructor, Barry Kerley, a Vietnam Army veteran, made arrangements with the state Fish & Wildlife department for our class to take a snorkel trip down the river and pick up cans and other discarded trash while floating down the river. The river was only 5 or 6 feet deep. We all wore wetsuits… well, it WAS 76-degree water and floating down that river for three hours could give someone hypothermia.

The wildlife officers furnished three Jon boats for our trip. Our group of 30 slipped on our masks, fins, & snorkels and began our trip. And yes… we found cans—lots of them. In fact, by the time we reached the end of the float at the takeout point, all three Jon boats were piled several feet high with aluminum and steel cans. Plastic bags were not a problem back then, but bottles & cans… definitely an abundance.

The reason I mention this particular story in my I can sleep anywhere post is because on one of these trips, floating down the river, breathing deeply, and having been dead tired from partying the night before the trip, I fell asleep.

Yes, I’ll admit it… I fell asleep while snorkeling down the ice-cold Ichetucknee River. The only reason I woke up was because I floated into a tree when the river took a turn.

RV Camping – My wife & I took our kids (pre-teens) on a trip out to the Pacific Northwest. Since I spent a year in the Bremerton Shipyards and took advantage exploring the area during that time, I wanted to share the beauty of the northwest with my family. We rented an RV for a week, wanting to explore the Olympic peninsula. And yes, we did drive through Bremerton.

We all slept inside the RV; the kids slept on a fold out bed while my wife & I took the bed over the cab. Not a lot of room, but then as I told my wife… if I could live in a rack aboard Kitty Hawk, I can certainly sleep here.

Little did I know…

If you look up the word “claustrophobia” in the dictionary, you’ll see my picture attempting to sleep in a bed above the cab of an RV. That night did not go well.

I still don’t understand it. I mean, those of you who’ve spent time aboard a US Navy ship know there’s not a lot of room in your rack: three walls and a privacy curtain. The rack above yours (see photo above) was only about 18″ away.

But sleeping in that RV, for me, proved to be quite a challenge. Talk about a blow to the ol’ Navy ego. And no… I haven’t done an RV trip since then.

ERT – I’m part of an “Early Response Team” through our church. We respond to natural disasters (hurricanes & flooding). A team of us will deploy to an area hit by, say, a hurricane, a few days after the event. Our task as volunteers is to help affected homeowners clean up their house, their yard, whatever, as best we can. Sometimes that means taking out carpet, ripping out walls, and trying to save whatever we can for the homeowner. It’s quite an experience, physically, mentally, and spiritually.

I wrote about one such deployment earlier.

Most of the time, we stay at a host church which provides the roof, the water, and sometimes, the kitchen. We train to be self-sufficient, because after a hurricane, there’s always questionable power and water. But having a roof over our heads is a blessing.

I bought an air mattress. Not a fancy-schmancy mattress, mind you, but one from Walmart – $22. I’ve had it for several years and it sleeps well. Not as cozy as my king-size bed, but it’s about the same size as my Kitty Hawk rack; big enough and comfortable enough for me to sleep on the floor.

I’d like to think with that I can sleep anywhere experience during those early years, I can sleep anywhere now. But, alas, this “almost” 70-year-old body likes a comfortable bed. And that’s what I aim for these days… comfort.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books, including Three Years, Eleven Months, and 29 Days… But Who’s Counting. His novel, NEVER FORGET, is a free downloadable book (PDF or eBook format). Adkins also writes a weekly blog, “A Veteran’s Journey.”

Answers

1. Ernest Hemingway.
2. A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), Heather Langenkamp (Nancy Thompson).
3. A Whiter Shade of Pale (1967), Procol Harum; written by Keith Reid, Gary Brooker, and Matthew Fisher.

Previous blogs mentioned in this post:

• #4—From Civilian to US Navy
• #21—Reveille!… and other “Alarm Clocks” Over the Years
• #35—US Navy “A” School (ABH)
• #53—You Always Remember Your First
• #25—“Livin’ the Dream:” Life Aboard an Aircraft Carrier
• #67—Flight Ops: A Day in the Life of Crash & Salvage
• #23—Rough Seas—Sea of Japan
• #20—Port Call: Philippines
• #30—USS Kitty Hawk @ Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1
• #42—The Shipyards, Part 2
• #128—Into the Aftermath