A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “Beauty is everywhere. You only have to look to see it.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Don’t you know somebody back east is sayin’, ‘Why don’t he write.’”?
3. In what song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   I been all around this great big world
   And I seen all kinds of girls
   Yeah, but I couldn’t wait to get back in the States
   Back to the cutest girls in the world

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Thanks to those who commented on my previous blog, #76—Set the Mail Buoy Watch… FNG Tasks. Several comments were spot on and reminded me of things I’d forgotten. Here’s a few more shared “memories:”

• “Monkey Watch. 1992, USS JFK. Going through the Straits of Messina, there was a cable stretched between the toe of Italy and the island of Sicily. There was one particular AOAN who was late to everything. Gave him a 2×4 and told him that monkeys like to swing along the cable and jump onto the ship, so if he sees one he should knock it overboard.”
• “In the artillery, it was ‘lanyard grease.’ For those that aren’t familiar with the lanyard, it’s the rope that you pull that fires the gun.”
• “Get me a bucket of relative bearing grease.”
• “Fetch a portable pad-eye puller.”
• “A ream of ID-10-T forms.”
• “Where is the sky hook I sent you for?”
• “Sent an airman to the local Western Union for a Mammogram… in today’s Navy, I would be fired…”
• “Fresh out of boot camp, third day in the squadron, I was sent to Maintenance Control to get the keys for an E-2A Hawkeye so the ADJ’s could do an engine turn.”
• “Put a guy on mail buoy watch and he found it! Apparently a buoy broke loose after a storm and was floating around off the coast. Damn…”
• “I stood the Mail Buoy watch on Yankee Station in 1967 and not a single mail bag got past me!”
• “Would give the boot airman a trash bag for exhaust samples on F14s and go get a can of electrical smoke.”
• “… and the bullet proof paint for battle helmets.”
• “Was in line for sick bay and a FNG was in front of me. We got to talking, and he told me he was sent down to pick up a set of fallopian tubes. I didn’t have the heart to tell him what was going on.”

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Forty-four years ago this past week, USS Kitty Hawk steamed out of the Bremerton Shipyards after a year-long, 100 million dollar overhaul and headed back to her home port in San Diego.

I’ve written a few times about our time in the Bremerton Shipyards, 1976-77. If you want to read those they are blog posts #30, #31, and #42.

For those of us who wanted to drive, the CO gave us four days to get from Bremerton to San Diego. Since I had my new ’76 Chevy truck (aptly named the “Chet Mobile”), I took advantage of that glorious drive along the coast. With “three-on-a-tree” and a 350 cubic inch engine, I easily cruised down the highway.

Driving alone, I occasionally picked up a hitchhiker—hitchhiking was a lot safer back in the mid-seventies than it is now. Some were more talkative than others, but it was nice to have a little company along the way.

Magnificent Coastal Drive

Once I crossed the state line to Oregon, I drove down the coast with an unending number of magnificent views. It was some of the most breath-taking scenery I had ever seen, and I certainly took my time. The long stretch of road had minimal development and only small seaside towns along most of the way.

A few months earlier, I had purchased a camper top for my truck. With some help, I built two storage boxes and lined the truck bed with thick foam and carpet I had scavenged from the shipyard. Shipyard workers knew how to horse trade.

The Chet Mobile was quite comfortable to sleep in. I did all my cooking on my Coleman stove and, with my guitar, serenaded some of the other campers in campgrounds I stayed along the way.

In the three-plus years I’d served in the Navy, I really didn’t have much alone time to myself. I mean, boot camp, “A” school, NAS Agana, Guam, and now the Kitty Hawk. It was rare when I had more than a few hours at a time… alone.

And here I was with four days of driving… driving along Highway 101 (and yes, listening to both country music and the California beach scene music). It gave me time to think… really think about my future. I knew it wouldn’t be a career in the Navy; four years was enough.

90 Days and a Wake-up

I had 98 days and a wake-up before leaving the Navy. I “sorta” had an idea of what I wanted to do next.

I’d taken a night course in electronics at Olympic Community College while in Bremerton and loved it. Even though I had flunked out of Florida State University (with a 0.7 GPA), I knew I wanted to return to school (this time, University of Florida) and pursue a degree in electronics engineering.

That’s one of many things I thought about on that long drive. Plus, I also learned a very valuable lesson. When you’re able to spend a long time, alone with your own thoughts and little to no disruption, you can think through and solve many of “your world problems.”

That’s a lesson that would help me through many of my “journeys.”

I took advantage of the full four days to drive to San Diego. I wasn’t in a hurry since I didn’t have anywhere to stay if I arrived before the ship. Kitty Hawk docked at the North Island pier about four hours before me. That was good timing, because I also needed a parking sticker from the main base.

Back Aboard—I’m Home

Even though I had a phenomenal trip down and the scenery was spectacular, it felt great to be back aboard Kitty Hawk.

It’s hard to describe to someone who hasn’t spent time on a ship, but those of us who have “sea time,” know full well that feeling. Some ships are better than others, but almost every Navy veteran I know has that one special ship. For me, there was only one—Kitty Hawk.

There were several hundred dependents that rode back down with the ship, and it took a while to get them off the ship—I helped offload the last few groups along with their cars they’d parked on the flight deck. They also needed to find housing on the base, so that is the reason the ship had a short stand-down.

The first few days on board were little more than muster, keep yourself busy, and “turn to” which was the Navy’s way of simply saying, “Clean up.”

Yellow Shirt Director

Once we were back in San Diego, the V-1 Division Officer, Lt. Lockram, reassigned me to a Yellow shirt director and I ended up in Fly 3. Fly 3 was the aft area of the flight deck; Fly 1 was the bow, and Fly 2 was amidships.

It was to be one of the best experiences in my life.

I also carried several other collateral duties, including the Division Yeoman, the Division Training Petty Officer, the Division Career Counselor, and the Division First Aid Petty Officer. To tell you the truth, I didn’t mind; I was a short timer and… I was now a Yellow shirt—what could be better than that?

When I first went onto the flight deck as a director, I was in training (I had a yellow jersey with a big “T” stenciled on the front and back). But since I had been around for a while and made the Westpac ’75 cruise, it didn’t take me long to learn the ropes. My good friend, Smitty, also a Fly 3 director, helped me out, especially in the tough spots.

A Little Different From Fishing Boats

I’ll tell you… it was a lot easier to either tow or taxi an aircraft moving forward than backing it up. The tow tractors were initially a challenge. While I had backed up a lot of small fishing boats over the years, the dynamics of backing up an aircraft were completely different.

Backing up a fishing boat on a trailer goes the opposite way of the steering wheel since there is only a single point of contact: the trailer hitch. Since aircraft tow tractors have two points of contact: the trailer hitch on the back of the tow tractor and the nose wheel of the aircraft where the tow bar connects, the aircraft follows the way the tractor turns.

It sounds confusing—and it is—but you quickly get used to it. That… or else you find another job.

I had arrived aboard Kitty Hawk in March ’75 and initially assigned to Crash & Salvage. When I drove the crash trucks, I was constantly in somebody’s way. The Yellow shirts always yelled and told me to “move; you’re in the way.” Now it was my turn, but since I had been in Crash’s shoes, I asked a little nicer.

Sea Trials

After a major overhaul like the one we had in Bremerton, the ship had to endure all types of training and qualifications, not only to make sure everything worked properly, but also to train the crew and the air wing. This keeps the Navy in top operating condition—training, more training, and additional training on top of that training.

Our first time out at sea was almost like a homecoming. It wasn’t just me; it was the entire crew, at least those of us who worked on the flight deck.

Our first time out at sea was almost like a homecoming. It wasn’t just me; it was the entire crew, at least those of us who worked on the flight deck. I sounded like a lifer, but it felt fantastic getting back out to sea and into the routine of flight operations. Those 14 to 16-hour days weren’t so bad after all.

After a Westpac cruise, I guess many sailors appreciated the time back on land–I get that, and I was one of them. But I tell you… when you head back out to sea after working boring 8-hour days in port for a year, well… it just feels right. At least it did 45 years ago.

Am I the only one that feels that?

New Aircraft Aboard

We got the Navy’s newest fighter, the F-14 Tomcat. They were bigger than the F-4 Phantoms, but to me, did not look as mean. Instead of a fixed wing that folded up for parking, the F-14 had wings that retracted back toward the rear of the plane, almost like a bird tucking its wings for a dive. The wings fully extend for takeoff, but during flight for speed, they retracted in the swept wing position, providing less wind resistance and letting the F-14 quickly reach supersonic speeds.

Also known as a “Turkey,” the F-14 could reach speeds of 1,500 mph or Mach 2+ at altitude and could break the sound barrier at sea level. It carried a crew of two: a pilot and a RIO, similar to the F-4 Phantom.

Originally designed in 1958, the F-4 Phantom saw almost twenty years of service, and would now be replaced by the F-14. We trained with the same squadrons we had during Westpac ’75 and many of the same pilots—they had learned to fly the new F-14s.

Civilians would become familiar with the F-14 Tomcat when the movie, Top Gun, came out in 1986.

We also got the newer S-3 Viking anti-submarine warfare aircraft. They were nicknamed “Hoovers” because they sounded like a vacuum cleaner when they applied full power. These guys replaced the older gasoline-powered S-2 “Stoofs” and carried a crew of four. Similar to the S-2s, their mission was to drop sonobuoys and helped track enemy submarines.

A distinguishing feature of the S-3 was the huge cockpit window, similar to the old AMC Pacer automobile. When the movie Wayne’s World came out, the scene in Garth’s AMC Pacer of everyone singing Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody and bobbing their heads in time to the music reminded me of the S-3.

In the Crotch

Between the time Kitty Hawk returned to San Diego and the time I left the Navy in July 1977, we were at sea six times. I was a Yellow shirt in Fly 3, Flight Deck Director #36.

The third time out I asked ABH1 “Mac” Mackay, the Fly 3 LPO, if I could become the Gear Puller, the Yellow shirt that stood on the angle of the flight deck directing aircraft out of the recovery area after they’ve trapped. It only took a couple of cycles training with Smitty.

You stand in the crotch, between the angle and #2 catapult, just forward of the #2 JBD, just starboard of the foul line. You could be in deep doo-doo if anything happened so, as Smitty put it, “think about where you are and where you want to jump.”

The job was simple: wait until the plane trapped safely, run out to meet the plane and make sure the pilot sees you (you’re about twenty feet away) and give him the “hook up” signal. If the hook raises properly, start taxiing him out of the recovery area, turning him to the starboard side, give him the signal to fold wings, and pass him along to another Yellow shirt in Fly 2. Then thirty seconds later, do it all over again.

This was my favorite job on the flight deck. I don’t know why, but I enjoyed this post more than any other during my short 2½ years aboard Kitty Hawk.

There was, however, one harrowing experience that almost changed my mind. I wrote about it earlier, #3—Between a Rock and a Hard Place.

The “Falcon Codes”

During an at sea time, one of the Yellow shirts found a listing of what was commonly known as Falcon Codes. I don’t know who created these, but the idea was to provide a shortcut of “thoughts” that you couldn’t say over radio frequencies. Most were vulgar and since you would get your ass chewed out if you muttered “Beats the crap out of me” or “You must have crap for brains,” you would instead say “Falcon 103” or “Falcon 173.”

For those of you who are interested, here’s a link to the Falcon Codes.

My favorite? Falcon #169 (“I love the xxx Navy, and the Navy loves xxx me”).

Until we meet again,
Andy

Previous posts mentioned in this blog:

• #76—Set the Mail Buoy Watch… FNG Tasks
• #30—USS Kitty Hawk @ Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1
• #31—USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63 Decommission
• #42—The Shipyards, Part 2
• #49—Westpac ’75: After Six Months We’re Coming Home
• #10—You Light ‘em, We Fight ‘em
• #3—Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Answers

1. Bob Ross.
2. Dances with Wolves (1990), Timmons (Robert Pastorelli).
3. California Girls (1965), Beach Boys; written by Brian Douglas Wilson, Michael Edward Love.