A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “Any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think he can respond with a great deal of pride and satisfaction… I served in the United States Navy.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it), “Get to the choppah!”?
3. Who sang (and what song) the following lyrics:
   If I had told her that I loved her
   She would have stayed til who knows when,
   but I guess she couldn’t understand it
   when I said I wanna be your friend,
   because a friend would never doubt you
   or ever put you uptight,
   and now I wonder…

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I left the Navy in July 1977, more than 47 years ago. I wrote about that “anniversary” a few weeks ago in an earlier blog. I still remember walking across elevator #3 toward the after brow, carrying my seabag over my shoulder and my 11-string Greco guitar (that’s another story for later) in my hand. One final salute (in civilian clothes) and off I went.

Over the years, my wife and kids had suggested several times that we take a cruise.  I seemed to have always found a lame excuse: “I’ve been on one.”

Finally, in 2008, my wife & I joined our son, his future wife, and her parents to take my first “non-Navy” cruise. It was the first time I’d stepped onboard a ship larger than a small fishing boat. And that first night I told Becky, “Why did I wait so long?”

That trip brought back many (MANY) memories for me. But I digress… this blog post is NOT about that cruise.

Haze Gray and Underway

This is a phrase you won’t hear in the Army, Marine Corps, Air Force, or Coast Guard… unless, of course, the Marines use the Navy as their personal Uber.

You won’t hear submariners use this term either, though they may try to argue. It’s a phrase typically associated with Navy surface ships, which BTW, are a “haze gray” color as opposed to the dark gray or black color of submarines.

I had been in the Navy for more than 1½ years; I was a 3d Class Petty Officer (ABH3); and I was well-versed in aircraft firefighting and had driven several different types of Crash firefighting trucks, all while stationed at NAS Agana, Guam.

But when I stepped aboard USS Kitty Hawk in March 1975, I was a FNG assigned to the V-1 Division / Crash. I worked on the flight deck, so I had to learn quickly what to do, when to do it, and where I should be, and more importantly, where I should NOT be (don’t cross that “foul line”). Otherwise, I might find myself in a world of hurt.

We had a great Crash crew, led by CWO2 Bos’n Ty Robuck, Crash LPO Jeff Atteberry, Asst Crash LPO Shelby “Big Willie” Williams, and a dozen other sailors dedicated to their job. They all helped break me in to my new assignment.

Synchronized & Choreographed

V-1 Division had about 80 sailors; the Air Department, about 500. But the entire ship had 5,500 (3,000 ship’s company and 2,500 air wing). I knew this at the time, but because I was caught up in my own “flight deck” world, I rarely had the opportunity to visit other departments on the ship. It didn’t dawn on me just how well synchronized a ship had to be to get underway—everyone doing their jobs in order to safely make it out to sea. But, we all made it work.

I’m sure I’m not the only one, but if I could go back and make an announcement to the entire crew over the 1MC, I’d say this:

“Thank you all for what you do. You helped make my one and only cruise, Westpac ’75, challenging and memorable—something I will Never Forget. I couldn’t tell you back then, but I’m telling you now.”

Saying Goodbye to Loved Ones

While I wasn’t married, nor did I have a girlfriend, a lot of my fellow shipmates were, many with kids. Most had mixed feelings about heading out to sea—they hated leaving their families, but they loved being back on the ocean.

Not many people outside the military understand that complex lifestyle or those feelings. I think that’s one reason I took section duty when we returned for a fellow V-1 Crash or Yellow Shirt who had family waiting. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Heading Out to Sea

Not all shipmates would agree, but when you’re in the Navy and accustomed to working aboard a ship (for me, an aircraft carrier flight deck), I loved heading out to sea.

The routines of getting underway, the tugboats, the BMs working the shore lines, the ship’s bells and whistles, the Captain’s announcements over the 1MC… it was almost like “leaving home to go home.”

During the day, you could watch as the ship moved through the channel, past the other Navy ships docked in the bay, past Point Loma and the Old Point Loma lighthouse, and out into the deep blue sea.

The flight deck is about 60 feet above the water line, so we had great places to observe our surroundings from not only the flight deck but also the catwalks. Heading out, I’d usually be on the starboard side, watching as we passed the lighthouse. Heading back in to San Diego, I’d want to see North Island, so again, I’d be on the starboard side.

I know there were guys on the hangar deck looking out through the massive hangar bay elevator doors, guys on the aft sponsons catching a glimpse, and of course, all those perched in their spots on the island superstructure.

San Diego is the 2d largest surface ship base in the U.S. (Norfolk is the largest). Even though Kitty Hawk’s home port was North Island, we could still see the activity at the main base from the flight deck.

We Were Never Alone

There were a lot of ships home ported there and when we got underway, others in the fleet were already out waiting for us or about to get underway themselves following us. That was also a comfort, knowing there were other Navy ships in the carrier battle group accompanying us on the cruise. We were not alone—we were never alone.

There’s something about standing on the flight deck, high above the water, feeling the cool breeze coming over the bow, breathing in the fresh ocean air, and just taking it all in. “The wind in our faces, the salt in the air, and the glory of another fine day in the Navy.” I miss those days.

Of course, there are other “things” I don’t miss about the Navy, but let’s keep this post positive, shall we?

Squadrons Flying Aboard

When we first left port, the flight deck was bare, except for Crash equipment, aircraft tow tractors and tow bars, and a few other odds & ends. No aircraft were on board yet, but they’d join us in the next couple of hours.

The CVW-11 Air Wing squadron maintenance & administration personnel were already on board. I can’t remember how long it would be after we passed Point Loma, but the pilots would fly the aircraft from their various squadron bases (most in California) out to Kitty Hawk. I imagine it’s the same routine in today’s Navy. That would be the first recovery of the cruise and helped us “get our act together,” so to speak.

Nighttime

If you haven’t been on a ship, it’s hard to describe the nights when at sea. But if you can imagine being on the beach late into the night with no campfires, no ambient light, 5,000 of your closest friends near you, and no alcohol… well, you get the idea. Beauty without booze.

We flew at night. The enemy never rests, why should we? Sometimes, we’d fly 24 hours around the clock, but not that often during Westpac ’75.

At night, everyone needed to be more cautious, especially during flight ops. There are no flood lights on the flight deck. Aircraft follow “Yellow shirt” director signals who use cone-shaped flash lights. You had to constantly watch yourself around the aircraft, even those parked and tied down. I’ve got more scars than I can count on my shins from tripping over those blasted tie-down chains in the dark.

When the Air Boss announced over the 5MC (the flight deck PA system), “Standby to recover aircraft,” that meant it was time to go to work. During recovery operations, instead of landing aircraft every 20-30 seconds as we did during the day, they’d spread it out to 60 seconds on a clear night. Longer if it was cloudy or stormy. Those were some “interesting” times, too.

At sea, I tried to find time to embrace the serenity of the ocean after a full day and night of flight ops. Many times, I’d take in those brief glimpses up at the clear sky of millions of twinkling “horizon-to-horizon” stars in between recovering aircraft.

Then again, there was the opposite spectrum of calm, mirror-like water versus the raging storm-tossed water crashing over the bow, 60 feet above the waterline. In those rough seas, I’d look over at an accompanying tin can destroyer a hundred yards off the starboard side and watch its bow dip completely underwater while Kitty Hawk cruised over the tops of the waves and be thankful I was on my ship and not that one.

Cruisin’ After the Navy

On my first cruise after I left the Navy—some 30+ years later in 2008—I knew exactly where I wanted to be when we left port. The bow!

No problem… there was plenty of room and only a few others up there. Feeling that slight salt breeze, smelling the clean air… the movement of the ocean… yeah, it was one of those happy “triggers” that immediately took me back to getting underway aboard Kitty Hawk. Well… except for a few things like no aircraft flight operations, no duty stations, no hollering CPOs, but plenty of booze. Yeah, I could get used to that.

What little hair I had was all wind-blown, but I didn’t care. The salt spray was in my face and on my glasses, but I didn’t care. I had to squint at the bright sun, but I didn’t care. I was at sea, “Hair’s Gray” and Underway.

Nights on the cruise? Well, let’s just say that party goers are sometimes louder than an A-6 Intruder ready for launch on Cat 2. But, I will say this—there was more alcohol on the Holland America cruise than on Kitty Hawk. And, no tie-down chains.

I hope that in today’s COVID world, you might be able to find that wind blowing in your face, see those millions of twinkling stars when you look up at the night sky, smell that fresh sea air and remember… those good times you had when you can proudly say at one time, “I was haze gray and underway.”

Stay safe, my friends.

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 posts mentioned in this blog:

• #38 – Hook, Line & Sinker
• #26 – That Adrenaline Rush
• U.S. Navy Glossary

Answers

1. John F. Kennedy.
2. Predator (1987), Dutch (Arnold Schwarzenegger).
3. Boyce and Hart; I Wonder What She’s Doing Tonight (1967), written by Bobby Hart, Tommy Boyce.