A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “Your smile is your logo, your personality is your business card, how you leave others feeling after having an experience with you becomes your trademark.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Frankly my dear, [Scarlett]. I don’t give a damn.”?
3. What song (and who sang it) did we hear the following?
   We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files
   We’d like to help you learn to help yourself
   Look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes
   Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home

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The “Detailer”

The United States Navy is good about planning your every move and your next duty station… at least, back in the mid-70s when I served.

About six months prior to your scheduled departure date, someone (somewhere) begins to work with you on where you want to go for your next duty station. I personally thought that was a crock since the Navy sends you wherever it wants/needs you to go.

Just ask the guys @ NAS Agana, Guam who in 1974 were given two (2) days notice before a 60-day TAD (Temporary Assigned Duty) to Diego Garcia. That’s on the other side of the world in the Indian Ocean.

But… I digress.

I guess in the long run, it is a morale booster since they do ask.

The person in charge of this horse hockey is known as the “Detailer.”

While stationed at NAS Agana, Guam (’73-75), the Navy actually sent a detailer to meet with a bunch of us and… “asked” us where we wanted to go for our next duty assignment. I told him my primary choices were Key West or Italy.

I lived in Florida so NAS Key West was a no-brainer and would be much closer to home; I’d been gone 15 months and I’ll admit, I was a bit homesick. I’d heard that NAS Naples, Italy was also a great duty station, so that was an option.

Sigh… the detailer kindly informed us that since we were already on the west coast, the Navy would likely assign us to a ship on the west coast, probably San Diego or San Francisco—so much for the “dream sheet.” But honestly (I can say this now), it made logical sense.

“Chet… would you like to extend your time on Guam?”

I was scheduled to leave Guam sometime in February 1975 but wasn’t quite sure where I was headed. That would come later. I thought about extending my tour of duty on Guam for another nine months—that was common—but a couple of beers later and a few more ass chewings from the senior petty officers helped me decide differently.

Back in my day, each Navy billet typically came with a sea/land rotation schedule. For ABs (Aviation Boatswains Mates), that rotation was 4/2. You spent four years on sea duty and two years on a land base. Funny thing, even though an overseas duty station like NAS Agana Guam was on land, the Navy considered it sea duty. I would have to keep that in mind at re-enlistment time.

New Orders, Finally!

I’d learned earlier that my next assignment was the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63, stationed out of San Diego, California, but I wasn’t exactly sure when I had to report to her. My orders finally came through on January 15, 1975: “Report to USS Kitty Hawk (CV 63) no later than 20 MAR 1975.”

That was plain and clear. I knew I’d be leaving Guam during February, but not sure when. The Navy always waits until the last minute, or at least the last month before they lay the big date on you. But you are so ready to leave that it doesn’t matter.

I also knew that several of my good buddies would also transfer to Kitty Hawk. Glenn Law and I would leave Guam and head back to the states on the same flight. Gary Borne had already transferred to Kitty Hawk. James Young, who was with me at boot camp, “A” School, and Guam, would also be aboard Kitty Hawk.

A Short Timer

As time gets closer to your departure date, you become what is commonly called a “Short Timer.”

Everyone gets the GAF attitude, some “worse” than others. [See “F.I.G.M.O” in the Navy Glossary] Some guys even make a short timer chain that hangs from their belt for everyone to see and admire, with one link representing one day, (signifying too short to care) and usually starts with thirty links.

The mantra then becomes, “thirty days and a wake-up,” or whatever amount of time is left. I didn’t make a short timer’s chain, but towards the end, I certainly came on duty with the “twenty days and a wake up” attitude.

I was also on a roller coaster ride with emotions about leaving and what I would do during my leave time between duty stations. I probably drove my parents crazy.

In one letter I wrote them I would be home for three weeks; another letter said I might have to transfer directly to Kitty Hawk without coming home; still another letter said I might stay a few days in California to visit some friends before I came home.

I’m sure they were also on an emotional roller coaster. After all, their little baby boy had been away for 15 months and they certainly wanted to see him.

Freedom Flight

It didn’t help that the Navy waited until the last minute to let me know when I would actually leave. But when they did, I had my orders to leave Guam on February 10, 1975, flying out of Anderson AFB. My orders would get me to Travis AFB in San Francisco and then to San Diego, which the Navy paid for.

What I needed to do was to get back to Gainesville, Florida, to see my family. That would come out of my pocket.

Our freedom flight was a Northwest Orient 707. Glenn and I had made arrangements for a ride to Anderson. We climbed on board and settled down for the long flight. It was about an eight hour flight back to Hawaii, a couple of hour’s layover, then onto a military aircraft to Travis AFB near San Francisco.

A Significant Change in the Weather

We’d left Guam in summer whites because Guam is, well… a tropical island. We arrived in San Francisco in February—it wasn’t tropical weather. In fact, it was hovering around freezing and I’d stowed my peacoat away in my seabag.

To top that off, we arrived at the San Francisco airport terminal about five in the morning. It was closed and wouldn’t open until six. We had to stand outside waiting for about an hour. You can bet your sweet ass I dug in my seabag to get my peacoat. It definitely made a difference.

Going Home

I didn’t hang around California like I thought I might. I was back in the good ol’ USA and much closer to home that I’d been for the past 15 months.

I booked the first flight to Florida I could find. I called my mom and dad, and I think we all shed a tear of joy that I was coming home. I flew into Jacksonville and my mom picked me up. I couldn’t believe it had been fifteen months since I had seen her.

I drove her car home and we chatted about so many things, catching up with family & friends. I forgot the turnoff to Gainesville and ended up in Green Cove Springs without realizing where I was.

I spent three glorious weeks at home on leave before heading out to my next adventure—USS Kitty Hawk.

Time to Reflect

So, what experiences did I walk away with from Guam?

I can easily think of a dozen things, but the most prevalent was how much I appreciated my family and my home. This was by far the longest time I had ever been away from my parents and my sister—fifteen months, including two birthdays and two Christmases.

Letters, packages, and the few phone calls I made were so important to me and I know they were to my family. We didn’t have computers or email or cell phones back then. If you wanted to call home, you’d either make a collect call or have a pocket full of quarters to call using the base pay phone.

Fighting fires? Well, the only fires I fought were the hot drills during training exercises. We had no actual fires, no aircraft crashes, and no disasters on my watch. Was I disappointed? Hell no!

Part of me wanted to know how I would react in such an emergency, but the other part of me said that I would have done fine since I had been through so much training in so many different situations.

I was a pretty confident kid at the ripe old age of twenty. Besides, my training would be tested several times a few months later aboard Kitty Hawk.

When I left the Navy in 1977, I became a civilian firefighter with the City of Gainesville for a few years—a natural progression. I would be on duty for six months in Gainesville before I fought my first house fire.

Petty Officer Lessons

One of the more important qualities I think I picked up was leadership. I was now a Third Class Petty Officer, and I had men (hell, they were boys like me) that I was responsible for.

Sure, we would play grab ass now and then, but when it came down to duty and orders and all that other important Navy crap, I had to learn how to give orders and more importantly, how to handle some bent shitcan that ignored my orders.

But it came with the territory and I would have to learn how to deal with it one way or another. There would be more of these “tests” aboard Kitty Hawk.

One more…

Like most Navy veterans, I often joke about my duty station or assignments. After Guam, I “thought” I wanted to transfer to Key West, Florida or Naples, Italy.

But to be honest, my 2 1/2 years aboard Kitty Hawk were some of the best times of my life. Besides the almost daily dangers and the challenges we faced on the flight deck, the comradery we developed, and the memories we created, well… I am forever thankful for that.

It was an awesome journey that I will Never Forget.

Until we meet again,
Andy

Previous posts mentioned in this blog:

• #53 – You Always Remember Your First…
• #67 – Flight Ops: A Day in the Life of Crash & Salvage
• #68 – Flight Ops: Another Fine Day in the Navy!
• #52 – 30 Days and a Wake up!
• #48 – Not Just Another House Fire

Answers

1. Jay Danzie.
2. Gone with the Wind (1939), Rhett Butler (Clark Gable).
3. Mrs. Robinson (1968), Simon & Garfunkel; written by Paul Simon.

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.