A Veteran's Journey

Thanks to those who commented on my previous blog, #170—An Honor & a Privilege.” Several comments were spot on and reminded me of things I’d forgotten. Here’s a few more shared “memories:”

• For an older vet: “Thanks for paving the way.” – Bradley
• “You were worth it.” – Ray
• “I did it for you.” – Jim
• “I hope they had as much fun as I did.” – Mike

---

---

June 1975 – Somewhere in the Middle of the Pacific

We’d left Hawaii a couple of weeks earlier. It would take three weeks to cruise to the Philippines, our overseas home port for the next few months.

We were on a six-month Westpac cruise, my first (and only) US Navy cruise. We’d left San Diego on May 21, 1975, about 1430 (2:30 p.m.). We were supposed to leave at 1000, but there was a slight delay due to one of the ship’s boilers.

I was having the time of my life. I’d been in the Navy for almost two years, spent 15 months in paradise on the island of Guam (NAS Agana, Guam; Nov ’73 – Feb ’75), had a few weeks home in Florida between duty stations, and now… on my way to another adventure.

Since I’d been an aircraft Crash & Rescue firefighter in Guam, and had made third-class (ABH3), I had been assigned to the V-1 Division / Crash crew aboard USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63. We worked on the flight deck, and I’ll tell you, being in the middle of all the action during flight operations was an adrenaline rush I still feel today.

I experienced a lot of “firsts” while in Guam. There would be a lot more new “firsts” on this cruise.

Water Hours

We never had any problems with water in Guam. But on a ship with 5,500 sailors (both ship’s company and squadron personnel) there was a limited supply of water. I can’t imagine the “magic” behind making drinkable water from salt water, but other than filling up a 100-cup coffeepot from the wrong sink faucet, I didn’t experience any salt-water issues.

A week or so out from Hawaii, we went to mandatory “water hours.” That basically means someone at a higher pay grade than me turns off the hot water; that means COLD showers… if the water is on. In all its wisdom, the Navy also figured out that if the water was FRIGID, you probably wouldn’t stay in the shower for long.

Logically, the ship’s boilers and distillers can only convert so much water at a time. And because the flight deck steam catapults used fresh water, every time a jet launched, we’d all say, “there goes another 200 showers.”

You get used to it after a while. However, there was usually a “brief” period after flight ops where they’d turn the hot water back on so those of us lucky enough to get down off the flight deck would be able to grab a hot shower before turning in for the night.

Alert 5

While in Guam, I’m sure all the US Military bases were under some sort of surveillance by the Russians. We’d never see them and honestly, even though it was still in the Cold War years, I never worried about it. There were too many other things to occupy my time.

But when you’re out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, cruising on an aircraft carrier, surrounded by several other US Navy ships, you’re in international waters. The Russians want to get a closer look.

Periodically, we’d hear the Air Boss state over the 5MC (the flight deck PA system), “Launch the Alert 5!” During the long transits without scheduled flight ops, we’d always configure a couple of F-4 Phantoms on two of the catapults ready to launch within 5 minutes, hence the “Alert 5.”

When a Russian Badger (jet) or Russian Bear (turboprop) approached the carrier task force, we’d launch one of the Phantoms for a “meet & greet.” Fortunately, nothing ever happened (as far as I know) during Westpac ’75, but I’d heard stories of the F-4 pilot & RIO giving the Russian pilot & crew the “one-finger salute.”

Regardless, after the Phantom “escorted” the Russian aircraft from our area, they’d return, recover, and we’d get back to playing poker, working on our tans, or whatever else we did during non-flight ops times.

General Quarters – the 100-yard “obstacle course”

At least two or three times a week, the ship would go to General Quarters; fortunately, most of the time it was a drill.

Every sailor on a ship has a “General Quarters” station—where he/she is supposed to be during General Quarters. If you’re in your rack, that’s NOT your GQ station; get out, get dressed, and haul ass. If you’re in the shower, tough luck; get out, get dressed, and haul ass.

“General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands, man your battle stations!” 5,500 sailors (back in my time, it was all men) hoofed it to get to their station as fast as possible. The traffic rules were simple: if you were going forward or up, you stayed on the starboard (right) side of the ship. If you’re going aft or down, you stayed on the port (left) side of the ship. You’d cross over to one side or the other using one of the many passageways.

For most of us in V-1 Division, our GQ station was the flight deck.

And Then… My First Port Liberty

I had already spent 15 months in Guam. That was my first trip outside the US. We worked 24 hours on and 24 off. During my day off, I had spent plenty of time in downtown Agana (now called, Hagåtña), in the bars, in the restaurants, and in “the alleys.”

But the Philippines (“PI”) would be totally different. Since it was our overseas “home,” we’d dock there for a week, then head out to sea for a few weeks, then back again, and so on. During Westpac ’75, we also visited Hong Kong and Yokosuka, Japan. But PI was our “home.”

I remember Bos’n Robuck (Tyrone Robuck, the Crash Officer and Air Bos’n) giving us a lecture about what to expect while on liberty in PI. I’ll spare you the details, but it covered basic foreign policy, basic hygiene, and basic sex education.

While in port, our normal work hours were 7:30a until 3:30p; after that, we were on our own, unless we had duty. Since V-1 had six sections, that meant we’d only have to stay on the ship every six days, unless someone wanted to take on your duty. Back then, I think the going “rate” for taking someone’s duty was $20.

Shit River

After stepping off the ship’s After brow, we’d walk to the base gate, pass through a security turnstile, manned by friendly Marines, then a bit further to cross a river.

Let me pause here for a moment.

To get from the base to Olongapo City, you’d cross a river, probably a hundred or so feet wide. Houses lined the far side of the river; as far as I know, these houses didn’t have a sewer system, except the river. I’m sure someone will correct me if I’m wrong, but there’s a reason why this was called “Shit River.”

A half dozen or so small dugout canoes floated in the river alongside the bridge. Each had one or two small kids, either in the boat or… in the water. All begging for the sailors to toss a peso or two. Some of them would have small wire nets to catch the coins.

I remember two things: one, the smell and two, I forget.

Midnight Curfew

PI had martial law, meaning you had to be off the streets by midnight. Otherwise, bad things could happen. By that, you could be shot on sight by the local police. I never heard of that happening, but I was smart enough to oblige.

It wasn’t that hard to do. You had three choices: return to the base or stay in a hotel or… find somewhere else to shack up.

The first time in, I went with a couple of good friends, Gary Borne (R.I.P.) and Jimmy “Smitty” Smith. Gary was the other 3rd Class PO in Crash and hailed from Hagerstown, MD; Smitty was a Yellow Shirt director in Fly 3 on the flight deck from Texarkana. Both were good friends, and we all watched out for each other both on the flight deck and while on liberty.

The streets were pretty dingy, and the sidewalks were lined with wall-to-wall bars and restaurants. Almost every bar had a live band, some obviously better than others. But face it, after a few beers, it really didn’t matter. There were streets with rock bands, streets with soul bands, and streets with country bands—that was my street.

Back then, thank the good Lord, “hip-hop” and “rap” music didn’t exist.

My usual hangouts were the Country Caravan bar and The Joy Club bar. Both had great bands and cold, cheap beer. The local brew was San Miguel. Not bad, and when you’d come in off a long, hot day working on the ship, sometimes if you got there early enough, the first beers out of the cooler would be caked in ice.

Prices were cheap. In the mid-70s, a US dollar would be worth six or seven pesos in PI. San Miguel Beer was about three pesos, so it didn’t cost a lot to down a six-pack.

Balut

How do you describe a “balut?” It’s not my intent to insult anyone here, but…

Think of the most disgusting thing you’ve ever encountered and double down. Take a fertilized egg, bury it in the hot sand on the beach and leave it for about three weeks. Dig it up, cook it, remove the top of the egg, and dive in…

Google it, just for grins… and make sure you select “images” on your search.

Baluts are considered a delicacy by Filipinos. But I can honestly say after seeing one of these up close and (almost) personal, I didn’t need to see anymore.

Instead, I’d go in search of Pandesal bread. That, to me, was a “delicacy,” especially if you could get a bag of a dozen hot rolls fresh from the oven for a peso. And no… I didn’t share.

Stepping Outside Your Comfort Zone

I experienced a lot of “firsts” on my first overseas liberty port. I can remember most, even though it was 49 years ago. I’m glad I went with a couple of buddies for my first time. In fact, I don’t think I ever went into Olongapo by myself—always with friends. I guess we just learned that we relied on each other during those times.

I certainly stepped outside my comfort zone. That’s a habit I like to think I’ve carried with me throughout my life… my journey.

I honestly believe my short four years in the Navy was a building block, a cornerstone for my journey through life. While I like the comforts of my home, my wife, my family, my church, my friends, I like trying new things and I like to travel to new places.

That’s my current “goal” in life. Keep on the journey…

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 and their families. Download your FREE copy HERE.

Previous Blogs mentioned in the Post:

• #37—Hawaii, One Word: Beautiful!
• #20—Port Call: Philippines
• #41—Haze Gray and Underway!
• #53—You Always Remember Your First…
• #10—“You Light ‘em, We Fight ‘em”
• #26—That Adrenaline Rush
• #19—The 3-Minute Navy Shower: A Luxury, Compared to…
• #33—Launch the Alert 5!
• #64—“General Quarters, General Quarters…”
• #43—Port Call: Hong Kong
• #23—Rough Seas: Sea of Japan