A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end):

1. In what movie (and who said), “Sell craziness somewhere else. We’re all stocked up here.”?
2. Who said, “Stay away from negative people. They have a problem for every solution.”?
3. From what ‘70s song do we hear the following lyrics?
   Will you have whiskey with your water, Or sugar with your tea
   What are these crazy questions, That they’re asking of me
   This is the craziest party, That there ever could be
   Oh, don’t turn on the light, ‘Cause I don’t want to see

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Let me take you back in time a few years. We all remember… it was just a few short years ago when you left the Navy and became a civilian again.

Remember when you joined the Navy (Army, USMC, USAF, or USCG)? Boot Camp, “A” School, your first duty station? Your other duty stations, cruises, shipyards?

Yeah, you remember most all of those milestone events, don’t you? I wrote an earlier post about my journey from “Civilian to the Navy.”

How many of you can recall your first day (or first week) after you were discharged? Where were you (your last duty station) and how long did it take you to get home?

Many of my fellow shipmates were married and I know their wives & families were anxiously waiting for them as they walked down the gangplank and into the arms of their loved ones. Like you, I witnessed many those celebrations almost every time we returned back to our San Diego home port.

It was especially emotional when we returned from our six-month Westpac ’75 cruise. I know many of you remember those special reunions. It’s something one never forgets.

The DD-214–Freedom!

Me? I was on USS Kitty Hawk and was honorably discharged from the Navy on July 8, 1977 after four years of military service. Actually, it was Three Years, Eleven Months, & 29 Days—But, Who’s Counting.

It took a while to process out. Personnel used typewriters for all the forms with carbon paper. They didn’t use computers back then. But I had all my paperwork, including my most important DD-214 discharge papers (“press hard, the third copy is yours!”).

I had emptied my coffin locker and my coat locker–and, my “secret” stash locker in Crash–and packed up my sea bag for the last time. I was wearing civilian clothes—blue jeans and a pull over shirt. I made that trip one more time from the V-1 Division berthing compartment on the 03 level, down the stairs, across the hangar deck, and the lowered #3 elevator to the after brow.

As usual, I saluted the petty officer of the watch and asked one more time, “Permission to go ashore, sir.” He bid me farewell and good luck. I saluted the flag one more time, even in civilian clothes—an old, continuous habit.

Leaving one home for another

I had a plethora of mixed emotions. Unlike when I left NAS Agana, Guam, I wasn’t leaving a paradise—I was leaving a home. I wasn’t transferring to another duty station—I was leaving for home.

Kitty Hawk had been a great ship to me (and my “home” for 2½ years) and most of the crew that I worked with I considered family.

There was no fanfare, no band, and no one on the pier waiting for me. There were no tears or sorrowful looks. At the time, I was ready to leave Kitty Hawk and the Navy and put both far behind me. It was time to move forward with my life, though I had no friggin’ clue what that would be.

With that simple gesture, I was no longer a member of Uncle Sam’s Sailing Club. I was once again, a civilian. Of course, at that time it didn’t really feel any different and it would take some time before I realized I was truly out of the Navy.

My sister, Anne, had flown out to San Diego from Florida. We were going to drive back to Florida together and see the country. We took our time and it was a great trip. While I had seen her from time to time when I was home on leave, we had both changed—I like to think matured. We enjoyed getting to know each other again. Nothing like having an older sister to visit and catch up with during a long drive home.

Coming Home

When I got back to my mom & dad’s in Florida, it was another great homecoming. I knew I didn’t have to leave anytime again, so I was home—really home.

Or… so I thought.

My mom was a great cook. My dad, well… he had his “specialties.” I’ll spare you the details, but it was great to have home cooked meals again. Some things just didn’t change.

My plan was to go back and finish college. Before joining the Navy, I’d spent a year at Florida State University. They’d asked me to leave after my first year—something about my 0.7 GPA. So, I decided I wasn’t going back to FSU. Instead, I was going to go to the local community college and first, get an Associate’s Degree.

When Kitty Hawk was in the Bremerton Shipyards in 1976, I had taken an electronics course at Olympia Community College. I really enjoyed the course and did well (nothing like those C’s & D’s @ FSU). From that simple one-semester experience, I decided I was going to be an electronics engineer—that was my goal.

So, I knew I’d need a lot of college. But that wasn’t a problem. I had plenty of time now.

City Firefighter? Why not.

I also needed a job, but I wasn’t sure what to do. However, another opportunity (“journey?”) presented itself. I joined the Gainesville Fire Department and worked full-time—1 day on, 2 days off. Since I’d been an ABH (Aviation Boatswain’s Mate-Handler) and spent the majority of my four years in Crash, that seemed like a great transition. I figured I could work full-time and attend college full-time. Easy, peasy. Yeah, right.

That worked… but only for a little while. After 2 years, I graduated from Santa Fe Community College with an AS degree and started full-time at the University of Florida. My GPA took a nose dive from 3.6 to a 2.9—ouch!

I figured I needed to concentrate on college, so I resigned from the fire department and long, story short—I graduated with a BSEE in 1982. And, most important, I met the love of life (in a Karate class of all places) and married in 1981. We’re coming up on 39 years together!

Being an electronics engineer was my third career (“journey”). But, I was on my way to bigger & better things. More about that later.

I wanted to mention a couple of other things that happened along the way. Perhaps you may have also experienced similar “events” when you arrived home.

Not the Same Home I Left

I left home (the first time) when I was 17 years old. I spent a year at FSU, then I joined the Navy. After four years, I returned home.

The last time I “lived” at home was five years earlier when I was 17, fresh out of high school. My mom & dad were somewhat strict parents (I loved them dearly, but you know what I mean). So, when I returned home after the Navy, I think they thought the “rules” were still the same. You know… like when I was still in high school and 17.

Well, my rules weren’t the same as their rules…

Stay with me here, you know where I’m going with this.

In the Navy… when in port… I often stayed out until the early morning hours–no surprise. I’m sure many of you did the same, especially when out on a cruise.

Now, back at home, sometimes, I came home in the middle of the night. Sometimes, I stayed over at a friend’s house. I didn’t have a problem with that.

But my mother…

Something’s Gotta Give

Well, let’s put it this way. One morning, I casually strolled in while my mom & my dad were having coffee at the kitchen table. I said, “Good morning,” with a bright smile. But instead of responding, my mom got up from the table, got dressed, and headed out the door to work, without even a “Hello.”

I asked my dad what was going on—he had fought in WWII and “knew” I was enjoying life after the military. I think he was okay with me staying out partying.

He wasn’t taking sides, but kindly suggested that if I was going to stay out all night, to “at least have the courtesy to call and let them know that I wouldn’t be coming home that night.”

Well, I think it was either the second or third phone call at one o’clock in the morning that he put an end to that crap.

We… came to an agreement of sorts.

Since I had just started working at the fire department, it was time to move into my own place. That wasn’t a problem—I was making $9,600 a year as a city firefighter (big money back in 1977) and I rented a brand-new studio apartment on the other side of town for $350 a month.

After that, we all got along great. My folks didn’t have to worry about me anymore.

Strange how that works, isn’t it? Of course, when our own children were growing up, they probably thought our “rules” were strict. But, that’s another story for another day.

One more…

Did you see the movie, “The Hurt Locker,” starring Jeremy Renner as a member of an Army bomb squad unit? Yeah, that one. It won six Oscars.

There’s a scene in that movie when SSGT William James (Renner) is first discharged and happy to be home with his wife. They go grocery shopping. She’s got a full grocery cart and asks him to pick up some cereal—“meet you at the cashier.”

The camera shot is perfect… a long distance away, we see him standing in the aisle, all alone, with shelves and shelves of cereal boxes—too many decisions. This is a man who’d been making life & death decisions every day for the past year. Too many friggin’ choices in his new civilian life.

I wasn’t EOD (though I did test for it in San Diego), and I’m certainly not Jeremy Renner. But, for a sailor who’d been in a certain routine for years on end, I kind of felt that way when I first got home–I felt out of place.

Different Routines

How am I supposed to act & react to situations that I personally had no control over? I didn’t have that big a problem adjusting back to civilian life, but you know what I mean.

I’d been getting up at the crack of dawn to the lovely tune of Reveille for several years. I’d stood watch at two in the morning watching several of my drunk sailor friends stagger up the gangplank, swaying side to side, with a big ol’ grin on their face from ear to ear. My showers were three-minutes long, including shampooing my gorgeous crew cut. My head was always on a swivel on the flight deck, watching for any danger and all movement from every angle you could imagine.

I simply didn’t have to do that crap anymore. Some of those routines were hard to drop; others, not so bad.

But, to this day, I still keep my head on a swivel, especially when riding my bike. My wife & I taught our kids to always (ALWAYS) be aware of their surroundings and look confident wherever they are. When there’s a car wreck or a fire, I still run towards it to see if I can help.

Three minute showers? Not so much these days. Unless of course, we have a hurricane that knocks the power out for a week. Then, that old Navy routine is handy.

But, I digress…

The Navy Never Left Me

While I’ve been out of the Navy for almost 43 years, there are still some routines and traditions I continue to follow.

I still fold my skivvies the same way. I still tuck my bed sheets in with that 45 degree fold, though I haven’t tried to bounce a quarter off of it to test how tight they are. I still check my “gig line” when I wear a button-down shirt.

And yes, I still use a lot of the same Navy language I picked up in my “career.” Of course, I try [<wink, wink>] to be cognizant when I use it and in most cases, it’s appropriate. At least, I think so.

I get teary-eyed at some TV commercials, especially those involving our veterans returning home. I sometimes find myself having to take deep breaths when I see or hear or smell something that takes me back to the flight deck. Most of the time, they are awesome memories and I am grateful for that. I rarely have negative thoughts about the Navy. After all, isn’t that how we continue to move forward?

I’m grateful to be a veteran and I respect all veterans of all military branches: those who served before us, those who served with us, and those who serve now (our future veterans). I hope you do, too.

Some of us had an easier time “coming home.” I am one of those. I hope and pray that you feel welcomed, wherever you are in this world and wherever you are in your lives.

And you know what else? I wouldn’t trade my time in the Navy for anything. I am glad to be where I am now—a civilian. But I can never forget that I’m a veteran–a proud Navy veteran.

Until we meet again,
Andy

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.

Previous blogs mentioned in this post:

• #4 – From Civilian to US Navy
• U.S. Navy Glossary

Answers:

1. As Good As It Gets, (1997), Melvin Udall (Jack Nicholson)
2. Albert Einstein
3. Mama Told Me Not to Come, (1970), Written by Randy Newman, sung by Three Dog Night