A Veteran's Journey

Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)

1. Who said, “You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or their fancy cars, but because they sing a song that only you can hear.”?
2. In what movie (and who said it) did we hear, “Six months? Has it been that long? Seems like a single summer’s evening.”? (Hint: 1954)
3. In what song and who sang it) did we hear:
   Once in every life
   Someone comes along
   And you came to me
   It was almost like a song

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You Got Home, Knowing You Were No Longer in the Navy

My sister, Anne, had flown out from Florida to San Diego. Our plan was to drive back across the country in my 1976 blue Chevy “Chet Mobile.” After I left the Navy, we had a nice leisurely drive. She was 2½ years older than me, but we were (and still are) fairly close. It took us about a week to meander back, but it was great, spending time with my sis, getting to know what she’d been up to (she was a schoolteacher in Florida).

When we drove up to the house, my mom and dad were outside (my truck had loud pipes). I had come home for Christmas earlier, so it had only been seven months since I’d seen them, but boy, it felt great to be home.

My plan was to return to school, get a degree, get a job, and figure it out from there. But those first few weeks at home were an “interesting” transition. I spent time with family and friends, renewing old acquaintances, and generally “coming down” from the Navy.

However, within a few weeks, I had an “itch.” I couldn’t stay still and needed to find something to do. So, I applied to the local City of Gainesville Fire Department. Since I’d spent most of my Navy career as an aircraft crash & rescue firefighter, it was a natural progression.

I spent 2½ years working with the department. I was working full-time (1 day on, 2 days off) and attending the local community college full-time. That worked well until I graduated and transferred to the University of Florida, taking engineering courses. My GPA went from 3.6 to 2.9. I decided I could no longer do both full time. So, I resigned from the fire department and with my G.I. Bill, I could continue and finish college with a BSEE (Electronics Engineering).

Oh yeah, I should also mention that I got married to my soul mate (coming on 45 years now). Becky helped support me through school.

You Walked off the Ship for the Last Time

My last few days aboard Kitty Hawk were full of mixed feelings. These emotions differed from when I’d been in Guam. I wasn’t leaving a girlfriend—I was leaving a home. I wasn’t being transferred to another duty station … I was leaving for home. Kitty Hawk had been a great ship, and most of the crew that I worked with in V-1 Division I considered family.

I had to fill out a lot of paperwork, which I really didn’t mind. I knew the main reason was that I was getting discharged. The last paper to sign was my separation papers—the infamous DD-214. No problem. “Press hard, the third copy’s yours.” This is often called a “Veteran’s Ph.D.”

And with that simple gesture, I was technically out of Uncle Sam’s Sailing Club, though still considered “Inactive Reserve.”

It’s a Navy tradition to have someone carry your seabag off the ship for you that one last time. I thought about it, but I didn’t ask anyone, mainly because I was ready to boogie and I didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone else. I had packed my seabag with all my Navy uniforms and my civvies. The Navy lets you keep all your uniforms—like I might wear them again.

I’d dressed in civvies—blue jeans and a pullover shirt—to make my last walk across the After brow. As usual, I saluted the petty officer of the watch and asked one more time, “Permission to go ashore, sir.” He bade me farewell and good luck. I saluted the flag one more time, even in civilian clothes—it was an old habit.

I thought about leaving a souvenir behind, something for my buddies to remember ol’ Chet Adkins, but I chose not to. Like I said, I was ready to leave. It was me, my seabag, and my 12-string guitar.

You Hit that First “30 Days and a Wake-up” Time

For me, with two “real” duty stations (I sometimes count the year-long overhaul in the Bremerton Shipyards as a third tour), I experienced the “30 Days and a wake-up” twice.

Boot camp (Orlando RTC, Company #163, July–August 1973) and “A” School (Aviation Boatswains Mate-Handler in Lakehurst, NJ) didn’t really count, since I was still trying to figure out what I was supposed to be doing in the Navy.

But when I hit that last 30 days in Guam (NAS Agana, Guam; Crash & Rescue Division), I knew I’d be heading to USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63), an aircraft carrier. And I knew I’d be working on the flight deck, either in Crash & Salvage (like in Guam) or as a Yellow Shirt Director.  

The Navy let us fill out a “Dream Sheet,” and while I’d put NAS Key West as my #1 choice, the Navy decided to keep me on the west coast. That was fine by me. While I loved my time in Guam, I was ready to explore another chapter of my short Navy journey. And besides, I’d been in Guam for 15 months, working 24 hours on and 24 hours off. I was ready to spend a little time at home, visiting with my mom & dad, and my sister, Anne.

When You Arrived at Your First Duty Station

Fresh out of ABH “A” school, and after a short three weeks leave at home, my next Navy journey was flying from Gainesville, Florida, to Agana, Guam … a mere 8,108 miles. A long (LONG) flight with stops in Atlanta, San Francisco, Honolulu, and then Guam. It took about 36 hours of travel. But once I found out that Guam was an island in the middle of the Pacific and realized the SCUBA diving opportunities there, I was stoked. I even packed my regulator in my seabag.

It took a few days to get oriented, but I fit right in, making some great friends along the way. Gary Borne (R.I.P.) from Hagerstown, MD taught me to drive all the Crash trucks. Glenn Law, from Council Grove, KS, was my roommate and helped me learn to become a team crew member. John Melcher gave me my Navy nickname, “Chet Adkins,” because I played guitar and sang country music.

A lot of other great friends, too, like Ray, Fred, Trog, Bones, Chris, Gary, and John. Like I said earlier … family.

When You Graduated Boot Camp

Boot Camp graduation for me almost didn’t happen. A few days before graduation, we were lined up ready to march back to the barracks after noon chow. It was a typical hot and humid Florida August day. We had always been told not to lock our knees when standing at attention. I guess on this particular day and at this particular time I locked my knees because I fainted, right then and there on the concrete. I don’t know how long I was out, but apparently only a few minutes.

The CC had me go over to Sickbay. The doctor told me that I had a head cold. It must have been because we would sweat so much outside and then head into the barracks, which was as cold as a meat locker. It turns out that when I graduated from boot camp and got home, I went to my regular doctor, who told me I had pneumonia. So much for the Navy doc’s diagnosis.

The night before graduation, we were all bunked down and lights out. I was thinking about where I had been over the last year and how much I had grown since joining the Navy. We had been in boot camp for only six weeks, but it had flown by. I was proud of myself. We had come such a long way as a company and had only lost a few guys who had been sent back a week to another company because of disciplinary problems.

I had been raised a Methodist, and while I did regularly attend church and Sunday school when I was in elementary and junior high school, I dropped out of that scene when I reached high school. I was so full of myself that night, and I felt so moved that I got out of my rack, walked to the middle of the barracks, and started praying out loud.

“Dear Lord, thank you for getting us through these six weeks of boot camp. We don’t know where we’ll be heading after this, but we know that you will be with us. We’ve come a long way, and we know your strength has kept us together as a company.”

I then started reciting the Lord’s Prayer, and I swear I think I even heard some of the Jewish guys praying with us.

When You Took That Oath at the Induction Center

I think the phrase, “Hurry Up & Wait,” pretty much stated my 12+ hours at the AFEES (Armed Forces Examining and Entrance Station). I used that phrase many times during my short Navy career. Believe it or not, I still use that phrase … I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Physical exams (that was “interesting”) where you lose all sense of privacy. Aptitude tests that didn’t make any sense. And in between, “Hurry Up and Wait.”

After all those tests, we gathered in a room:

“I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.” 

While it was a pronounced speech, I felt that I had taken a major step in my life—I was now enlisted in the United States Navy.

And yes … I would do it all over again.

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:

• #17—From Sailor to Civilian
• #48—Not Just Another House fire
• #68—Flight Ops: Another Find Day in the Navy!
• #67—Flight Ops: A Day in the Life of Crash & Salvage
• #52—30 Days and a Wake up!
• #30—USS Kitty Hawk @ Bremerton Shipyards, Part 1
• #53—You Always Remember Your First …
• #153—The “Dream Sheet”
• #24—Hurry Up and Wait

Answers

1. Oscar Wilde.
2. Ulysses (1954), Ulysses (Kirk Douglas).
3. It Was Almost Like a Song (1977), Ronnie Milsap; written by Archie Paul Jordan & Hal David.