A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “You can close your eyes to reality but not to memories.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   Yeah, just sitting back
   Trying to recapture a little of the glory of
   Well, the time slips away
   Leaves you with nothing, mister, but boring stories of …

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It happened again…

Becky & I are in San Diego, visiting our son and grandsons. We don’t visit the Midway every time we’re out, but today we did—the kids’ idea, which made Granddad happy as a clam.

It never fails, though. Every time I step foot aboard the USS Midway (CV-41) in San Diego, I’m immediately transported back to my days on the flight deck of USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63).

Even though they converted Midway into a museum (for which I am always grateful), I tend to seek out those places where I often spent 16-18 hours a day.

I was an ABH (Aviation Boatswain’s Mate Handler) and spent four years in the U.S. Navy (1973-77). Actually, it was Three Years, Eleven Months, and 29 Days (But Who’s Counting). I had two jobs: one was an aircraft Crash firefighter, the other was a Yellow Shirt Director. Prior to my time aboard Kitty Hawk, I spent 15 months at NAS Agana, Guam in Crash & Rescue.

It was slightly different working on the flight deck in Crash from my time in Guam. For one, the flight deck is only about 4½ acres, a tad smaller than the two parallel 10,000 & 12,000 foot runways at NAS Agana, Guam. Crammed with about 50 aircraft on the flight deck, space was considered a rarity.

But what great memories of both duty stations.

Certain Spots on the Flight Deck Bring Back Memories

Standing Alongside the Foul Line

I made one Westpac cruise in 1975. I was in Crash the entire time, and most days, our flight operations (“cycles”) were daily from about 10a until midnight. Crash needed to be on the flight deck an hour before and remain until an hour after.

Yeah… it made for a long day, but what else ya gonna do when at sea on a deployment.

“They” say working on the flight deck is the most dangerous job in the world—and it IS definitely dangerous. But I often argue that I’ve never been shot at, nor have I been under an artillery barrage like my Vietnam War friends.

During flight ops, my main “station” was alongside the foul line, standing next to the 2-man Crash tractor. It was a front-row seat to some of the most exciting times in my life.

Imagine this … you’re standing about 20-25 feet away from an F-4 Phantom (later F-14 Tomcat), in full afterburner, waiting to launch off waist catapult #3. The sound is deafening, even with our mouse ears and foam earplugs. Your head is constantly on a swivel, looking for any potential problem that may occur, whether it’s with the Phantom on the cat, or another aircraft somewhere on the deck.

Still, what an exciting time, watching the Cat 3 Shooter go through the motions, checking forward to see if there’s any unexpected obstacles and waiting for the bow to be at the proper angle for launch (especially if in rough seas), checking aft, and checking with the half-dozen squadron maintenance personnel (“plane checkers”) on both sides of the aircraft for a thumbs up.

Then, after double-checking with the pilot, getting a final salute, the Shooter kneels down on one knee, touches the flight deck and points toward the bow: the signal to everyone to launch.

Within a few seconds, the aircraft is away.

Wow!!! And I got to watch that all day long and into the night.

Aircraft Recovery–Tailhook Won’t Retract

There were many times during recovery when an aircraft couldn’t raise its tailhook after rolling out, usually because of a hydraulic failure.

Those were always fun for us Crash guys. We’d sprint into action, and it was always a race to see who’d get to the aircraft first.

An A-7 Corsair was usually easy. There’s a hydraulic bypass valve that we’d push inside the port wheel well. That usually forced the tailhook to raise. Quick & easy–no problem.

The A-6 Intruder was a little more challenging. But because the fuselage is several feet high, we would lie on the flight deck and push the hook up with our feet and legs. It took two or three of us and was like lifting 300 pounds on a leg weight machine. 

A-7 Bomb Dropped

There was that time when I was driving the Crash truck, parked on the port side of the ship, next to Cat #4. An A-7 Corsair was on bow Cat #2, ready for launch. The JBD (Jet Blast Deflector) was up; everything was normal.

The aircraft launched, but one of its 500-pound bombs dropped off and skidded down the flight deck, stopping only a few yards from the bow.

Everyone on the bow saw it and hauled ass toward the aft part of the ship. No one knew whether the bomb had been armed or when it might explode.

CWO-2 Bos’n (Tyrone) Robuck, the Crash Officer, calmly walked up to the bomb. He was a short man, but confident in everything he did. He’d also spent time in the Marines during the Vietnam War. He had so many medals that we often joked he walked with a port list when in dress uniform.

A few minutes later, the ship’s EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team came out onto the flight deck and took a closer look and determined the bomb was safe.

Our next move was easy. My good friend whom I’d served with in Guam, Gary Borne (R.I.P.), drove the Crash forklift over, and with help from the squadron ordnance team, picked the bomb up with the forklift, drove it to the side of the ship, and dumped it overboard.

Crisis averted.

F-4 Phantom Eject

During our transit from San Diego to the Philippines (our overseas forward deployment port), we were in and out of Hawaii a couple of times. We’d continue our flight ops as usual.

At one point, a squadron of F-4s was practicing touch and go landings on the carrier. That basically means the aircraft does not trap with a tailhook.

One F-4 conducted a normal touch and go, but when the pilot applied full power and pulled back on the aircraft elevator–all normal procedures–the elevator locked in an upward position, forcing the F-4 to go nose high. Even when the pilot applied full afterburners, he couldn’t stabilize the aircraft.

About 800 feet up and off to the starboard side of the ship, we watched as both pilot and RIO (Radar Intercept Officer) punched out (ejected). Both chutes opened, and both pilots landed safely in the water.

Within a few minutes, the plane guard (a helo launched before flight ops which remains hovering near the ship all day long during flight operations) picked up both men. All were safe, but Davy Jones gained another aircraft.

Helo Crash

I’ve visited Midway probably a dozen times over the years. I didn’t realize until this trip that I’d been avoiding a particular helicopter for most of those visits.

During Westpac ’75, prior to the start of flight ops, we’d always launch a helo before launching any other aircraft. Crash was required to have a Crash tractor on standby; the rest of us were taking it easy in the Crash compartment.

Suddenly, over the 5MC (flight deck PA system), we heard the Air Boss, “Crash to the flight deck! Crash to the flight deck!”

Running out onto the flight deck, I spotted the helo with something dangling off its starboard wheel well; I wasn’t sure what it was at first–I’d never seen anything like it. It then hit me that it was a shipmate. The helo couldn’t take off because the tail was still attached to the flight deck pad eye with a tie-down chain.

The aircraft director was in front of the helo, trying to help the pilot keep the helo level, hovering a foot or so above the flight deck. Meanwhile, Jeff Attebury, the Crash LPO (Leading Petty Officer), slowly crawled on his belly toward the chain to release it.

I’m not sure the pilot knew what was happening, though I suspect the Air Boss informed him over the radio of the situation.

Finally, Jeff got the chain released and, about the same time, the helo dropped the airman onto the flight deck.

I’ll spare you the details, but we lost a shipmate that day. He’d been trying to pull the landing gear safety pin out and got caught in the wheel well when the landing gear collapsed on him.

I wrote about it in an earlier post.

Earlier this week, I wandered up to the same type of helo on the Midway flight deck. It’s hard to describe the feelings that flushed over me, but my eyes welled up; I needed a few moments to pay my respect to Andrew Wantulok again. My son was with me and helped me through that emotional roller coaster.

Over time, I’ve found that these types of memories crop up periodically, and I’ve learned to work through them. That’s one way for me to continue to respect those who are no longer with us.

FOD Walk Downs

The grandsons followed me up to the bow on Midway. A fence surrounds the flight deck, even though the safety nets and catwalks are still intact. I turned around and imagined how many times I and dozens of other flight deck personnel had conducted the daily FOD walk down.

Have you ever tried to explain what Foreign Object Damage is to a pre-teen? There’s a blurred look as you try to explain that, “No, foreign doesn’t mean it’s from another country.”

Finally, I gave up and told them that even a small wingnut could damage a $20 million aircraft enough that it couldn’t fly, and that’s why we did FOD walk downs.

Bow Flying

Even though Midway wasn’t moving, there was still a nice breeze blowing over the bow.

This one was easy(ish) to demonstrate. However, for some reason, the kids didn’t believe me when I explained that during cold weather and a high wind, we’d unzip our foul-weather jackets and hold the jacket wide open like a batwing, then jump up only to land down deck about six feet.

Mirror Passageways  and Polished Decks

All throughout Midway, the decks are well polished, bringing back memories of that floor buffer that, when you first use it, “owns” you. However, like a rodeo cowboy who tames a wild stallion, you learn not to fight the buffer, but to maneuver it to do what you want. Even with one hand.

Then, there were those long passageways. Remember those? Those passageways that seemed to go on forever. And, during General Quarters, the rule is your “route” to your GQ station is port side if you’re heading aft or down, starboard side if you’re heading forward or up.

At one point, I stopped in front of one of the hatches that came up about a foot. I showed my grandkids a few scars on both my shins, albeit they’re still there after 48 years, and pointed to the bottom hatch, noting the height was about the same.

I’m sure I’m not the only one with shin scars from shipboard hatches and/or flight deck tie-down chains.

For this “seasoned” 71-year-old former U.S. Navy airdale, these memories never get old.

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.

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Previous Blogs mentioned in this Post:

• #67—Flight Ops: A Day in the Life of Crash & Salvage
• #68—Flight Ops: Another Fine Day in the Navy!
• #53—You Always Remember Your First
• #185—Westpac ‘75
• #36—Gone in an Instant

Answers

1. Stanisław Jerzy Leo.
2. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986), Ferris Bueller (Matthew Broderick).
3. Glory Days (1984), Bruce Springsteen; written by Bruce Springsteen.