A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “Living to a ripe old age is not an end in itself. The trick is to enjoy the years remaining.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “I’m walking here! I’m walking here!”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   The lights are much brighter there
   You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
   So go…

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Most everyone on the planet has come across some type of foul line during their lifetime.

In baseball, it’s the straight white chalk line from home plate to first and third base, extending to the outfield. Many times we’ve seen a baseball hit so far… so close, yet it falls to the right (or left) of the foul line. Bummer. We were gypped.

In basketball, it lines the “box” from where the ball player makes free throws. More times than not, I’ve cussed at the defenders under the basket who crossed the foul line too early, trying to get an edge on the rebound… and the ref didn’t see it. “Blind as a bat…” Just sayin’.

In bowling, well… that really doesn’t matter. If the bowler crossed the line, s/he just buys a round of beer for those bowling the same lane.

Face it, most everyone who comes across a foul line and… crosses it, only pays a minor penalty. That’s it. A simple slap on the wrist.

But the foul line on an aircraft carrier flight deck… well, that’s a different story.

Instead of a penalty—which usually involves an “ass-chewing” by a senior non-com, you could lose your life and be gone in an instant. Or worse, your “foul” deed could cause an aircraft to crash, costing many lives.

Flight Deck Foul Line

A U.S. Navy aircraft carrier is typically about 1,100 feet (more than three football fields) from bow to stern and about 250 feet at the widest part. The flight deck of a modern-day carrier covers roughly 4½ acres.

USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63 was my home for 2½ years (’75-77). I worked on the flight deck in V-1 Division, both Crash & Salvage and as a Yellow Shirt Director. I made the Westpac ‘75 cruise before spending a year with her in the Bremerton Shipyards.

With 60-70 aircraft either parked on the flight deck or ready for launch, there are certain areas where you can and cannot be during flight operations. There are reasons for this.

Stay with me here, you’re about to get a brief lesson in flight deck safety (and… non-safety).

There is a line on the flight deck (actually, there are several on both sides of each of the four launch catapults and both sides of the recovery area). It’s basically a straight, alternating one-inch-wide red and white line running the length of the area (launch and recover), defining the minimum area that must be kept free of obstructions in order to consider the deck clear, as opposed to a “foul” deck.

This is called the “foul line.” It’s a line that you do not cross at certain times during flight ops.

Parked Aircraft

You’ve probably seen an online image or two, or perhaps a movie (e.g., Top Gun, The Final Countdown) and noticed aircraft parked almost perfectly in a straight line. What you probably haven’t noticed is that the flight deck crew usually line many of them along the foul line.

Next time you watch one of these movies, you’ll notice.

Flight deck crews generally park aircraft within 3 or 4 feet on the “safe” side of the foul line, which marks the edge of the recovery area (aka, “runway”) on the flight deck. With only a couple of exceptions, this leaves a substantial distance between a landing aircraft wing tip and the parked aircraft—perhaps 20ish feet on either side.

The two aircraft that significantly reduce this gap are the E-2 “Hawkeye” (early warning aircraft) and the C-2 “Greyhound” (COD-Carrier onboard Delivery). Both are built on similar size frames, and their longer wings leave little margin for error.

Alongside the Foul Line

In Crash, we had one MB-5 Crash fire truck, manned by a crew of three or four, and two MD-3 Crash tractors, complete with “PKP” firefighting powder, manned by two Crash crew. We’d park one tractor with the engine idling along the starboard (right) side foul line during flight ops recovery.

Many times during Westpac ’75, it would not be unusual to find the Crash Bos’n, Crash LPO (Leading Petty Officer), and two or three other Crash crew standing next to the parked Crash tractor.

On dark and stormy nights with high winds and blinding rain, flight ops were especially dangerous. Even though we had our rain gear on, we’d still get drenched–but that came with the territory. And you constantly needed to keep your head on a swivel.

Coming Straight at Us

I remember numerous times when an E-2 Hawkeye would be on approach and we couldn’t see any aircraft lights until it was directly over the fantail of the ship. Then, and only then, could we gauge if he was on the centerline or had drifted to one side.

If the E-2 was off centerline, for some reason it always seemed to be on the starboard side… the side closest to the island… our side. When there’s only a few feet gap from his wingtip to us on a good landing, imagine what you’d feel if you were there and saw him flying directly at you, crabbing into the wind. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and chills creep up both arms. You only have a moment to make a decision…

Many times, we’d turn and haul tail toward the safety of the island, only to look back at an almost perfectly executed landing; the E-2 pilot turned the aircraft at the last minute in order to land down the centerline of the recovery area. Whew… I guess I’d watched too many training films where an aircraft crashed on the flight deck.

But I remember those were some long nights, that’s for sure! Especially when we were flying around the clock in the Sea of Japan.

Aircraft Recovery

Aircraft that launch from an aircraft carrier typically land back on the same carrier, unless we were pulling into port, in which case the pilot would launch from the carrier and fly directly to his squadron base. But when you’re at sea, the only squadron base around is the aircraft carrier.

When you land a jet on a carrier, you’ve only got a short runway, so to speak. Aircraft need assistance to land in this environment. This is what separates Navy (and Marine) pilots from those in the Army and Air Force.

Four (or three, depending on the carrier “class”) arresting wires are stretched across the flight deck in the recovery area. And each landing aircraft has a tail hook that the pilot extends down upon approach. The idea is that the hook snags one of the arresting wires—connected through a series of hydraulic “thing-a-ma-jigs”—to quickly slow the aircraft down.

When the aircraft safely lands, a Yellow Shirt director signals to the pilot that he is safely down and to raise the tail hook. The director then signals the pilot to turn the aircraft to the starboard side and clear the flight deck recovery area for the next aircraft to land—all within a matter of about 40-45 seconds before the next aircraft lands.

Clear as mud, right?

Not Everything Goes as Planned

After the pilot lands, sometimes the tail hook malfunctions. This leads to a “foul deck.” That means the aircraft still has hold of the arresting wire and the pilot can’t clear the landing area. Because the next aircraft is already on final approach, most of the time the LSO (Landing Safety Officer) waves him off to go around for another try.

Since Crash was always stationed alongside the foul line, we were ready for most anything. And when I think back on these events, it was truly challenging and exciting at the same time.

As an example, there were times when an A-6 “Intruder” landed, but the pilot couldn’t raise the tail hook. Several of us would run out (yes, we crossed the foul line, but it was an emergency), lay flat on the deck and push the tail hook up with our feet enough for the gear puller to retract the arresting wire…. then, gently let the tail hook back down.

By the way, this redefines weight training “leg lifts.”

The A-6 was the only aircraft (in my time) where we could do that. The A-7 “Corsair” and the F-4 “Phantom” were too low to the ground to crawl under.

The A-7 “Magic” Button

There were also times when we trapped an A-7, but he couldn’t raise his tail hook. I remember running over from the foul line and to push the hydraulic “bypass” button in the starboard wheel well, and the tail hook “magically” raised.

That was always fun, especially when another aircraft was on approach. The Yellow shirt director had to move the aircraft out quickly. That was much easier than leg lifting the A-6 tail hook.

The thing about A-7s was that they were dangerous on both ends (intake & exhaust).

Danger, Danger

It only happened a few times that I recall on Westpac ’75 and thank the good Lord no one got hurt. But now and then some poor ignorant soul would wander up on the flight deck during recovery operations, cross the foul line, and thus, “foul the deck.” He’d get a good ass-chewing by someone. If he was lucky, that’s all he’d receive.

But I’d heard of sailors that crossed the foul line at the wrong time in the wrong place. There was this one guy who stepped over the line just as a jet grabbed one of the arresting wires. Unfortunately, the arresting wire caught both legs and, long story short, he lost both of them.

I’d heard of sailors (more than one instance) that came out onto the flight deck from the port side catwalk, cross the deck not realizing there was an incoming aircraft (literally known as “having your head up your ass”), and the LSO waved the aircraft off, making the pilot apply full power.

That sailor almost got blown off the flight deck from the jet’s exhaust. It could have been a golden opportunity to actually meet Davy Jones and to find out if he really had a locker. That would not be fun for anybody.

Mind the Gap

Even though it’s been over 40 years, I think about life aboard Kitty Hawk a lot. I don’t think there’s a day goes by that something doesn’t trigger a memory (a sight, a sound, a smell) that takes me back to those days.

Sure, it was dirty, greasy, grimy (not as bad for V-1 as V-2 & V-4), and dangerous. And most of the time, we’d spend 16 to 18-hour days on the flight deck during flight ops. Though as I look back now, it didn’t seem that long.

Long days, yes, but what great memories we have—mostly good—of our time aboard.

I once visited London on a business trip; Becky came with me. For one thing, the weather was absolutely gorgeous, much different from what the fog and cold we expected. But we took advantage of seeing the sights, gardens, and shows. And what better way to get around than the subway, or “tube” as it’s commonly called.

“Mind the Gap” is both a visual sign as well as an audible message played over the train platform’s “5-MC.”

To the average flight deck airdale, it basically means, “There’s a reason for the flight deck foul line.” Don’t cross it.

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:

• #36 – Gone in an Instant
• #10 – You Light ‘em, We Fight ‘em
• #30 – USS Kitty Hawk at Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1
• #23 – Rough Seas: Sea of Japan

Answers

1. Chuck Yeager.
2. Midnight Cowboy (1969), “Ratso” Rizzo (Dustin Hoffman).
3. Downtown (1965), Petula Clark; written by Tony Hatch.