A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “The biggest difference between money and time: You always know how much money you have, but you never know how much time you have.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “The sea supplies all my wants.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following:
   I can see for miles and miles
   I can see for miles and miles
   I can see for miles and miles
   I can see for miles and miles

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When you join the United States Navy—at least back in my day (mid-70s)—you work with your recruiter to select a specific rating, i.e., a job. Not everyone gets what they ask for, simply because the Navy (like all military branches) may decide they need you elsewhere.

I chose Aviation Boatswains Mate-Handler (ABH). I didn’t have a clue at the time as to what that meant, but I knew I’d be working with aircraft… Navy aircraft.

Turns out, for me… it was the BEST job in the Navy. Others may disagree, but hey… this is my blog. I enjoyed two duty stations: NAS Agana, Guam (’73-75) and USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63 (‘75-77). I’d signed up for four years, but because I enlisted on a Monday and got out on a Friday, I only served 3 Years, 11 Months, and 29 Days.

And yes… I couldn’t resist writing a book with that exact title.

Fast forward to my time aboard Kitty Hawk.

I had to look this one up, but Professor Google says that on any given day, about 50,000 sailors (men and women) are deployed globally aboard any one of about 100 Navy ships. Google also reports there are about 332,000 US Navy active-duty personnel.

Don’t ya just love Google for these trivial facts?

That means (if my math is correct), about 15% of Navy personnel work aboard ships at any one time. Keep in mind that your “rating” dictates how long you remain at a duty station and where you will “rotate” for your next assignment.

For me, an ABH, my rating rotation required four years sea duty, then two years shore duty. Funny thing, though—NAS Agana, Guam was considered sea duty during my time.  

All this explanation basically leads to my next few blog posts: what I did at sea when aboard Kitty Hawk, specifically when out on a Westpac cruise.

Haze Gray & Underway

I’d been in the Navy for more than 1½ years, a 3d Class Petty Officer, and well-versed in aircraft firefighting. I had learned how to drive all the Crash trucks while stationed at NAS Agana, Guam. I’d drive the Oshkosh MB-5 on the flight deck.

But when I reported aboard Kitty Hawk in March 1975, I was an FNG assigned to V-1 Division/Crash. I worked on the flight deck, so I had to quickly learn what to do and when to do it; where I should be and, more important, where not to be—there’s a reason for the “foul line.” Otherwise, I might find myself in a world or hurt.

Kitty Hawk got underway from its homeport in San Diego on Wednesday, May 21, 1975, about 1430 (2:30 p.m.) on a Westpac cruise. This would be Kitty Hawk’s tenth consecutive Westpac; it was my first and only.

I’d been out to sea several times since reporting aboard, but usually only a week or so each time. Boy, it felt good heading out to sea again, past the other ships docked in the bay, past Point Loma and the Old Point Loma Lighthouse, and out into the deep blue. The wind in our faces, the salt in the air, and the glory of another fine day in the Navy.

God, I sound like a lifer!

During my first few months aboard Kitty Hawk, I made several good friends in V-1 Division. My good friend Glenn Law was a Yellow Shirt. Gary Borne and I were both in Crash. The three of us had been in Guam together. It was nice to have some old friends to help break me into my new duty station and show me around. Duty aboard an aircraft carrier was a lot different from duty on Guam.

Flight Deck V-1 Division Leadership

The head of Crash and Salvage was Chief Warrant Officer CWO-2 Tyrone Robuck, who was a proud Cajun from Louisiana. He was the Air Bos’n and was a little short guy, but previously had been a Marine and had fought in Vietnam. He had a lot of medals, and we used to joke that he walked with a port list since he had so many medals above his left breast pocket weighing him down. He was a good guy though, knew his shit, and kept us working as a team. He also had a great sense of humor. Sometimes when I made a comment to him, he would look me straight in the eye and say, “Adkins, when I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you!”

Lt. Commander Robert Leone was the V-1 Division Officer and also carried the title “Flight Deck Officer.” He had flown A-4 Skyhawks prior to this command. He was alright too, very disciplined and didn’t take shit off anybody, but he would also go to bat for you when needed.

Senior Chief Kenneth Breig was the senior enlisted man in our division and, therefore, our LCPO (Leading Chief Petty Officer). It was rumored that when he went home on leave, he would line his kids up for haircut inspection. He and I didn’t get along all that well, so I tried to avoid him as much as possible. The biggest problem was that I got caught between him and Bos’n Robuck too many times.

We had some outstanding first- and second-class petty officers, too. Jeff Atteberry was the only first-class in Crash and therefore designated the Crash LPO. He was a soft-spoken guy and easy to get along with, but he also knew his stuff. After his tour on Kitty Hawk, he was assigned to be a recruiter, and he was not happy with that. Atteberry would more than prove his worth a few months into the cruise.

Frank Bethune was the senior first-class petty officer in the division and therefore the Flight Deck LPO. He was a cool guy, too. He was one of the biggest and tallest black guys I had ever met. Rumor was that he had been a former heavyweight boxing champion in school, so he wasn’t one to mess with. I used to call him BUD for “Big, Ugly, and Dumb,” but after a couple of “Yeah, that’s funny Adkins,” he got tired of it and let me know … personally.

John Mayberry was a first-class petty officer and the Fly 1 LPO. I’ve watched him direct an F-4 Phantom back into a tight spot between two other F-4s with three inches on each side of the plane’s folded wings. He would climb up to the cockpit of the plane and tell the Plane Captain that he was going to back him in slowly, then for the plane captain to hit the left brake hard when he told him to; the plane would slide in just right. He was a marvel to watch directing airplanes.

Mike Alford was the Fly 2 LPO. He had a unique talent of being able to spit out baseball and music trivia. Not a day would go by that he wouldn’t ask, “Chet, who pitched three no-hitters in 1966?” Like I gave a shit. While I played little league baseball when I was a kid and at one time had a hell of a baseball card collection, I didn’t know half of what he asked. Besides, Al could be blowing smoke up your ass, and you would never know it. I liked Al, though; he was a good guy and an outstanding Yellow Shirt on the flight deck. Even though he was only a second-class petty officer, he looked after and took care of his guys in Fly 2.

Another of my good friends was “Mac” MacKay. He was also a first-class petty officer and the Fly 3 LPO. He was a short and stocky red-headed guy with a goatee. Mac was from Colorado and had a bitchin’ four-wheel-drive Dodge RAM truck, complete with huge tires. He loved off-road driving. One thing about Mac—he had a pair of lips tattooed on his ass. Funniest thing you ever saw. Read: “Kiss my ass!”

Flight Deck Shipmates

Buddy Laney was a third-class petty officer from Atlanta and always had a smile and good things to say about anybody and everybody. I don’t think I ever saw Buddy pissed off or in a bad mood—he kinda helped the rest of us along on those not-so-good-days. He often hung around the foul line at the crash tractor with us. He was a fast runner, too. When an aircraft was on its last few feet of recovery, if it looked like it was drifting toward the island, Buddy was right there with us, heading toward the starboard side, usually beating us out of the danger zone.

Jimmy Smith was also a third-class petty officer assigned to Fly 3. Smitty was from Texarkana and had married his high school sweetheart, Connie. They both became good friends of mine during our year-long stay in the Bremerton Shipyards.

Dennis Mahon was a third-class petty officer like me. He was the Tractor King. He was a short guy but had a big heart. I don’t know how he did it, but he kept the Blue Shirt tractor drivers in line. Dennis and I would often take duty for other guys so they could go home or go partying, charging ten dollars for the night. It was not a lot of money, but it certainly helped.

Ed Boes, another third-class petty officer, was also a good friend and a Yellow Shirt. He was a tall, skinny guy and had one hell of a handlebar mustache. Ed lost some stupid bet one time and for losing, he shaved his handlebar mustache off on the flight deck during one morning muster in front of the entire division. He, Gary Borne, and I would share an apartment when we got to the shipyards in Bremerton.

Charlie Brown was a second-class petty officer in Fly 2. He was an excellent director but drank a lot. I went with Charlie when he headed into Hong Kong to get a tattoo of the Philippine flag with his girlfriend’s name. Charlie was a married man too, at least until his wife saw the tattoo.

Tony Davis was also a third-class petty officer in Fly 1. He was from Maryland and had a unique style of directing using hand signals just like everyone else, but he had his own style that I would call “loud and proud!” I saw Tony tackle a Blue Shirt FNG on the flight deck one day—the Blue Shirt wandered a little too close to an A-7 Corsair and was just about to get sucked into the intake. Tony saw it coming and tackled the guy. That would’ve been a bad day.

BTW—The Yellow Shirt directing an A7 Corsair on Cat 1 featured on the cover photo on my book, Three Years, Eleven Months, & 29 Days—But Who’s Counting, is ABH3 Tony Davis.

Next time… Flight Ops.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books (www.azadkinsiii.com), many of which are free downloads (PDF, eBook format). He is currently retired and lives in Gainesville, Florida with his wife and life-long soulmate, Becky.

Previous Blogs mentioned in the Post:

• #53—You Always Remember Your First
• #41—Haze Gray and Underway!
• #61—There’s a Reason for the Flight Deck “Foul Line”
• #30—USS Kitty Hawk @ Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1
• #42—The Shipyards, Part 2
• #43—Port Call: Hong Kong

Answers

1. R. Mangal Chaubey.
2. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954), Captain Nemo (James Mason).
3. I Can See for Miles (1967), The Who; written by Pete Townshend. Blog post note: Ya gotta admit, this one was kinda easy.