A Sailor You Be

By Noel Payne

Have you felt the salt spray, upon your face?

Have you seen the porpoise at the bow, keeping pace?

Have you viewed sea birds, above the wake in flight?

Have you fixed on a star, at sunset burning bright?

Has there been a time, to save a shipmate?

Has the roll of the deck, ever kept you awake?

Has the vastness of the sea, left you feeling alone?

Has a foreign port, made you wish you were home?

If you have weighed anchor, from calm shelter.

If you have crossed the equator, at noon time swelter.

If you have stood your watch, on a pitching deck.

If you have made landfall, on the horizon a speck.

When you have secured the deck, for the night to turn in.

When you have mustered at sunrise, seen a new day begin.

When you have dogged down hatches, in a mountainous sea.

When you have known all these things, a sailor you be.

Grannyisms

By: Garland Davis

My Granny was born and grew up in the Valley of the Yadkin River in the 1870’s. North Carolina was in the throes of Reconstruction. She used stories of the Klu Klux Klan (her pronunciation) to scare young boys into good behavior. Life in the Yadkin Valley was primitive, not very removed from that of the pioneer Daniel Boone who moved from Yadkin to Kentucky a century before because it was getting too crowded. Someone built a cabin about a half mile from his. My Granny was a strong woman who bore six girls and three boys between 1892 and 1910. Most of her life was lived in log houses, some with dirt floors. Families lived on that which they could grow, hunt or trade for. My Granny was a resilient woman who knew how to make do with whatever was available.

Her father and mother (my great grandfather and grandmother) never married. They lived their lives in two log cabins across a wagon road from each other. My great grandfather was half Cherokee Indian and my great-great-grandmother forbade my great grandmother form marrying an Indian. I learned, many years later, that she considered illegitimacy a stigma. (I can hear her now telling me, “Go to the woods and get me a switch to stripe your butt with for telling the world you’re a bastard. It ain’t nobody else’s business.”) I always knew that I was her favorite grandchild. She always favored me, but I never knew why. I was her only illegitimate grandchild and I think she tried to protect me.

She learned plants and their uses as food and medicines from her pioneer mother and her Indian father. She often came in from the woods with plants and roots that she hung around the porch eaves to dry. My aunts often brought her things they collected in the woods. Relatives and friends came to her for potions and poultices to treat real or imagined ills.

She dipped snuff and before she lost her teeth chewed Virginia Twist tobacco. Raw tobacco was twisted into a curl and cut off to smoke or chew. I remember finding a burlap bag of twists after her death. Some of them were probably thirty years old. Aged perfectly and naturally, without chemicals. We shaved it off and rolled it into cigarettes. My friends and I smoked for almost a year on that tobacco.

She always had advice to give, which she did freely whether you wanted it or not especially if you were a young boy. She also bossed everyone who would listen around. As a boy, I considered her to be a fount of wisdom. She was forever telling us items of folk lore. I call these Grannyisms. I unbelieving of many things she told us and tested many of them.

Toads: My brother and I were tormenting a toad by poking its butt to make it hop. Granny, upon seeing this, said, “You young’uns be keerful, if you kill that hop toad, it will cause the cows to go dry.” We had to milk the two cows. This piece of wisdom didn’t work! We murdered hop toads for weeks trying to dry those damn cows.

Snakes: She always told us, “If you kill a snake, hang it on the limb of a tree or on a fence rail and it will rain in the next ten days. This one always seemed to work. I was an adult before I realized that North Carolina had a temperate climate. It usually rained within ten days anyway. She also told us that if you kill a snake, its mate is nearby. I spent many hours searching for “that other” snake. It was years later before I realized that snakes do not run in pairs.

Phase of the Moon: She swore on planting by the “moon.” She would rave at my mom and dad about planting the garden at the wrong time of the moon. I deliberately planted seeds at the “wrong” time and would show her my crops and say, “see it doesn’t matter.” She always replied, “If you had planted at the right time of the moon, them ‘maters would have been better.” You couldn’t win this argument.

Painters: As a little boy, she scared the crap out of me by telling me to stay in at night because a “black painter” would get and eat me. My mom also used the term “painter.” I didn’t know what they were talking about, but I was wary of the night. We had a neighbor who was a house painter. I imagined a mean black man with a bucket of paint and a brush who ate little boys. Again it was years later that I realized she was saying panther. For many years, there have been rumors of Black “Painters” (Panthers) in North Carolina, although none have been killed or captured.

Laxatives: She believed that to maintain good health a person needed to take a laxative periodically. She also believed that when little boys got into mischief, a laxative was needed to, in her words, “Work the meanness out of them.” Laxatives were applied to me frequently. It actually worked! After a purging, one didn’t have the strength left to get into any mischief or anything else.

Witchcraft: I cannot explain this one. As a young boy, I had numerous warts on my hands and fingers. My mom had taken me to the doctor but his solutions didn’t work. My Granny told her, “The next time we go to Yadkin, I am going to take him to a woman I know who can witch warts and get her to witch them warts off.” I think I was about four, I remember her taking me by the hand and leading me on a footpath through the woods to a dreary old log cabin. It seemed we went a long distance, but then again maybe not so far, I was just a little boy. There was an old lady there. My Granny told her she wanted to get the warts took off my hands. She gave the woman a burlap sack that she had brought with her. Payment for her services, I surmise. The woman took a string from a mop that was leaning upside down against the cabin. She sat me on the stoop of the house and hung the mop string around my neck. She then took my hands and touched each wart. She removed the string and tied a knot in it for each wart and hung it back around my neck. She took the string and carried it into the woods. A short time later she came back and told me that the spirit of the warts was in that string and soon the warts would leave to go look for their spirits. She said if I ever looked for or found the string, all the warts would return. Soon afterward all my warts disappeared, except for one on the second knuckle of my ring finger. I guess she miscounted and missed that one. I have had it all my life.

I don’t know how old I was when Granny caught me giving a lot of attention to my private parts. She called me a dirty little boy and I got a switching. She also told me that if I continued to do that, it would stunt my growth. I thought about that for a couple of days and that was when I decided to forgo a basketball career.

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.

A Sailor Died Today

I have seen this poem around as “A Soldier Died Today” and as “A Veteran Died Today.” I took an author’s license to change it to “A Sailor Died Today.”

He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the FRA,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And ‘tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we’ll hear his tales no longer,
For ol’ Joe has passed away,
And the world’s a little poorer
For a Sailor died today.

He won’t be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won’t note his passing,
‘Tho a Sailor died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell their life stories
From the time that they were young,
But the passing of a Sailor
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician’s stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Sailor,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Sailor
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Sailor,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Sailor,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his likes again.

For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Sailor’s part,
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he’s here to hear the praise,
Then, at least, let’s give him homage
At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:

“OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SAILOR DIED TODAY.”

“Pure Sex Sir”

Yesterday I wrote of inspections. The following is the story of an inspection by my shipmate Pat Dingle.

“Pure Sex Sir”

By: Pat Dingle

I guess it all started in boot camp. It was the one thing all of us teenagers had in common. None of us knew how to clean anything, let alone do it the Navy way. Our training started on day one with the words “The right way, the wrong way and the Navy way” We learned the Navy way. I could clean a head better than I could tie a knot but then I had countless hours practicing one and rope exposure of only an hour or two. We assured ourselves that things will be much better when we get out of this chicken-shit outfit and into the real Navy. And in my case it was much better. The OI division head aboard the Yorktown was smaller than the one I cleaned in boot camp.

As an E-2 then E-3 those first two years aboard taught me to clean every compartment the OI division was responsible for. My teachers were 3rd classes and above and we new guys considered them pricks (until we made Petty Officer) but it was always a team effort and really no sweat. The only real advantage came from the fact CIC was never cleaned while we were at sea. First, it was too dark in there and second we couldn’t have any distractions while on duty. The downside was coming in port and turning on the overhead lights. The rubber coated deck would have gagged a maggot. Spilled coffee like layers of varnish, cigarette butts, ground in candy bars and things never identified, nor would you want to.

There was one space I was assigned to however that I really called my own. It was the passageway outside the starboard entrance to CIC. It was small, dog-legged, and not well traveled. The deck was linoleum, the bulkhead painted gray. There were overhead wires, cables, and a host of other objects I had no clue as to what they were. I had no need to know, I just cleaned them. The brass compartment label over the door leading into CIC read “Combat Intelligence Center”, a term left over from World War Two. I loved this space to clean as mine and mine alone. While on my hands and knees scrubbing and waxing the deck the other radarmen were very careful to step lightly or on paper I’d lay down. The Admiral’s jarhead orderlies would step anywhere like I was invisible as would a number of his staff officers. A common practice among the brass I guess. The Admiral himself walked through a few times while I’m working and as I recall was very courteous. So were all ensigns.

While preparing for an inspection by our division officer one day, I decided to make my space really mine. The only colors in there were baby shit yellow decks and the Navy gray we all love to this day. My space lacked pizzazz, color, something that would set it apart from all the other spaces aboard ship. In other words, it sucked. So I went out and found some paint and painted an eye bolt sticking out right at eye level bright, bright red. Boy did it stick out now. When my Chief, Division Officer, and a First Class with a clipboard came through later that day I snapped to attention, identified my space and reported ready for inspection Sir. Normally they would nod and keep on walking, tiny space, nothing to see. Not this time. As the 1st class screwed up his face and the Chief glared at me, the officer, Lt somebody, just stared at the bright red eye bolt sticking out like a stop sign. He then turned to me and dryly asked, “What’s this”? I replied “Pure Sex, Sir”……… Found out later I received a 4.0 on the inspection of “Mine and mine alone space aboard the USS Yorktown”.

Bring back memories guys? What was the space you called your own?

Inspections

By: Garland Davis

I was thinking this morning about all the hours of my life that were spent preparing for inspections. Inspection is ingrained in a sailor from almost the first moment of Boot Camp. There are white hat inspections, skivvy shirt inspections, gig line inspections, bunk inspections, locker inspections, sea bag inspections, laundry inspections, shoe shine inspections, zone inspections, Captain’s inspections, XO’s messing and berthing inspections, not to mention having my rectum inspected before I was permitted into the swimming pool at NTC San Diego. A few other times I was subjected to an embarrassing and demeaning “Short Arms” inspection. If you don’t know what that is, ask an old sailor, he will explain.

And of course, before I forget, not only were we subjected to inspections, there were numerous pre-inspections by each level of the chain-of-command. For instance, if an Admirals visit is scheduled, spaces will be pre-inspected by the Section Leader, the LPO, the Division Chief, the Department Chief, the Division Officer, the Department Head, the XO, and the CO for weeks before the Admiral arrives. Also, at least, two personnel inspections will be held, just to make sure the sailors are presentable in case the Admiral’s gaze happens to fall upon one of the crew.

How many times has one gone through this inspection drill, only to have the Admiral spend time in the Wardroom with the officers drinking coffee and then leave the ship without even a perfunctory walk through?

I remember the mantra on the FF’s, “If the Engineers are having an inspection, the entire ship is being inspected.” I have seen all ships work put on hold to field day the entire ship because PEB, Ney Award, Medical, Weapons, Operations, and etc., inspectors are going to be aboard. I still fail to see how the cleanliness of the Signal Bridge was going to affect the outcome of a PEB or Ney inspection. Someone was always being inspected. I have spent many evenings aboard, doing paperwork, to catch up on work that I should have been able to do during the normal work day instead of supervising a field day preparing for a 3M inspection

When I was in Midway, there was a pre-ordained route for showing off the ship to VIP’s. To prepare for a visit, the route was cleaned, buffed and shined enough to dazzle any viewer. The rest of the ship could look less like numerous hours had been wasted preparing it for inspection and no one seemed to care. I remember when Admiral Brown was assigned as Battle Group Commander and was being given a tour of the ship. The Admiral had once commanded the Midway so he understood the drill. The after Galley and Mess Decks were on the tour route and, of course, we had everything sparkling. I was standing by with the Food Service Officer when the official Party came through. As we moved forward, the Supply Officer stopped them at the display of our Ney Award Plaque. The Admiral congratulated the FSO and me.

The party was milling around and Admiral Brown leaned over and said to me, “You’ve got an excellent operation Chief, but tell me,” and pointing to the passage leading to the garbage storage room asked, “Is it still as fucked up in there as I remember?”

You could have cut the sudden silence with a knife. I replied, “Probably worse Admiral.”

He slapped me on the back, laughed and said, “Then we won’t go that way.” He said to the others, “You want the truth, ask a Chief.”

That was one of the things I loved about the Airdale Navy. They were mission oriented. Their primary mission was to “launch aircraft.” Once that was accomplished, the primary mission suddenly changed to “recover aircraft.” There wasn’t the continuous pressure to “Jump through hoops” to satisfy some inspector with a checklist.

In my first ship, USS Vesuvius, often Friday afternoons were devoted to Captain’s Upper and Lower Deck inspections. During the three hours between thirteen and sixteen hundred, the CO actually inspected the ship. Personnel Inspections were conducted at 0800 on Saturday mornings, inport. Personnel Inspections were also conducted in ranks on the quarterdeck five minutes before the scheduled departure of the liberty boat. When the ship was inport, all hands were required to wear the Uniform of the Day, undress blues or undress whites, during non-working hours.

After leaving the Vesuvius, I went to a three-year tour in Yokohama, Japan. By the time I returned to the fleet things like weekly inspections and shifting into the Uniform of the Day had been relegated to the dustbin of history due to the Viet Nam War and the tempo of operations. The subsequent changes to shipboard routine and the authorizing of civilian clothing for liberty and storage aboard by Admiral Elmo Zumwalt and the constant churning of the seabag precluded a return to prewar shipboard practices.

Talking with fellow retirees who either work for the Navy of for Navy contractors, the modern day sailor’s primary function is to prepare for one inspection or another. I don’t know how much emphasis is given to learning and ability.

Perhaps, if the Navy returned to the concept of professional Petty Officers and Chiefs who were knowledgeable and proficient in their rating specialty and leave the touchy-feely programs to the officers we wouldn’t have ships aground on reefs, broken down in foreign ports, or unable to sail or meet commitments.

As much as I hate to say it, it seems as if the civilian manned MSC auxiliary fleet is the only branch of the Navy that is fulfilling their mission requirements. Perhaps, they are not as hampered by the necessity of preparing for myriad meaningless inspections.

Now, I am not saying that inspections are unnecessary, but why can’t everything be inspected in one or two inspections instead of a myriad of continuing inspections. Perhaps if Officers and crews were permitted to do their jobs, perform sensible drills aimed at gaining proficiency in fighting the ship, the fleet would be better served in that endeavor instead of striving to satisfy a check off box on a meaningless inspection.

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

Destroyer Life

The lyrics of an old pre-WWII sailor’s song.

Destroyer Life

The boys out in the trenches have got a lot to say

Of the hardships and the sorrows that come a soldier’s way,

But we destroyer sailors would’ve liked their company

On a couple of trips in our lousy ships when we put out to sea.

Chorus:

OH, IT’S ROLL AND TOSS AND POUND AND PITCH

AND CREAK AND GROAN YOU SON OF A BITCH,

OH, BOY, IT’S A HELL OF A LIFE ON OUR DESTROYER.

The damned tin can destroyer was never meant for sea,

You couldn’t keep it steady in a lousy cup of tea,

We carry guns, torpedoes and ash cans in a bunch,

But the only time we hit our mark is when we shoot our lunch.

Chorus:

OH, IT’S ROLL AND TOSS AND POUND AND PITCH

AND CREAK AND GROAN YOU SON OF A BITCH,

OH, BOY, IT’S A HELL OF A LIFE ON OUR DESTROYER.

We have heard of muddy dugouts and shell holes filled with slime,

Of cootie hunts and marches which fill a soldier’s time,

But set beside destroyer life, it all seems dull and pale,

When the clinometer hops, the barometer drops, and we line up on the rail.

Chorus:

OH, IT’S ROLL AND TOSS AND POUND AND PITCH

AND CREAK AND GROAN YOU SON OF A BITCH,

OH, BOY, IT’S A HELL OF A LIFE ON OUR DESTROYER.

And when we’re back in dry dock, we stagger like we’re drunk

And wonder how we stood it, and why she never sunk.

You lay out your civilian clothes, but just before you switch

Your sea bag’s on your shoulder and you sign up for one more hitch

USS Midway

“There was Truly Magic Here”

By: Garland Davis

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I wrote this in tribute to a great ship, a rewarding period of my life and an homage to my Midway shipmates. I borrowed liberally from “The History of Midway Magic” and the San Diego Aircraft Carrier Museum for facts and dates.

The onset of World War II saw the greatest shipbuilding program of modern times. The progression of American aircraft carrier design led to larger and more heavily armored battle carriers. USS Midway CVB-41, to be the lead ship of new large carriers, was ordered on August 7, 1942. She had the distinction of being the first carrier named after a WWII battle. The battle between U.S. and Japanese carriers at the Battle of Midway in June of 1942 turned the tide of WWII and proved conclusively the value of Naval Aviation. CVB-41 was the third ship and second carrier to bear the name Midway. The first Midway, a fleet auxiliary, was changed to USS Panay in April 1943. The second ship bearing the name was a jeep carrier CVE-61, which was changed to USS St Lo in September 1944.

Midway was constructed at Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company. Midway was the lead ship of three 45,000 ton CVB’s. Her sister ships were USS Franklin D Roosevelt (CVB-41) and USS Coral Sea (CVB-43). Two additional ships of the class were canceled. The Midway class hull arrangement was modeled on the canceled Montana class Battleships and was a new much larger design intended to correct problems in the Essex class design.

Midway was launched on March 20, 1945 and was commissioned on September 10, 1945. She was the largest warship in the world for the first decade of her service. Every aspect of Midway’s construction included the most modern innovations possible. Twelve Babcock and Wilcox boilers powered four Westinghouse geared turbines which developed 212,000 horsepower for a maximum speed of 33 knots. Midway was designed with two catapults, fourteen arresting cables, and six barriers. Her design aircraft compliment was 137. In their early years, the Midway-class carriers were the only ships capable of operating nuclear strike aircraft.

Early in 1947, operating off the East Coast Midway operated F4U-4B Corsairs and SB2-C-5 Helldivers. She conducted three training cruises in the Caribbean before sailing from her home port at Norfolk, Virginia, on another experimental mission. On that landmark cruise, she was accompanied by scientific observers as her crew fired a captured German V-2 rocket from the flight deck on September 6, 1947. The purpose of Operation SANDY was to see if a large rocket could be launched from the deck of an aircraft carrier with little to no modifications. The actual ship launch test was only conducted once. There were prior tests carried out at White Sands on a simulated aircraft carrier deck to see what effects the rocket would have if it were to explode on the deck. This test marked the first time such a weapon was fired from a ship at sea or a moving platform. It decisively demonstrated the potential of large rocket fire from surface ships.

Midway spent the following years operating in the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea. In January 1954, Midway deployed to the Mediterranean for the seventh time. Just before entering port in Athens for a state visit, Midway collided with a replenishment ship, USS Great Sitkin, AE-17. Occurring in the Aegean Sea about 1700 on a Sunday, the ships were conducting a side-by-side transfer of materials in rough seas. Swells were reported to be about 15 feet between the ships. Upon casting off the last securing lines, the Great Sitkin began a sharp starboard turn. This caused her port stern area to sideswipe the Midway’s aft starboard side, just above the waterline, crushing one of the starboard weather deck 5″ gun mounts. There was no fire and damage control made temporary repairs while underway. Also during this cruise, a major fire on the flight deck occurred when an F2H bounced over the barrier and went into the pack. Casualties were four pilots and approximately four crew. This cruise was extended an additional month due to their relief, USS Bennington having a catastrophic port catapult machinery explosion, which killed about 100 of the crew. Bennington had to return to CONUS for repairs before finally departing for the Mediterranean. Midway returned to Norfolk in August of 1954.

In December 1954, with Air Group One aboard, Midway departed Norfolk on a world cruise, which culminated in her transfer to the Pacific Fleet. Joining the Seventh Fleet off Taiwan in February 1955, she became the flagship of COMCARDIV Three, operating from the Philippine Islands and Japan. Shortly after her arrival in the area, Midway participated in the evacuation of 24,000 military and civilian personnel of the Republic of China from the Tachen Islands, off the China coast. She remained in the area patrolling the Taiwan Straits and the South China Sea until June. For this operation, Midway was awarded the China Service Medal. Midway left Yokosuka, Japan and returned to NAS Alameda, California in July 1955. She entered Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, Washington and was decommissioned for the first time in October 1955.

While the gradual removal of armament helped to curtail the burden of excessive weight, the advent of the angled carrier deck not only added additional tons of displacement, but became a serious factor in stability. Built as axial, or straight-deck carriers, the problem of cycling and spotting aircraft for either launching or recovery operations remained a detriment to combat efficiency since only one function could be performed at a time. The angled flight deck, pioneered by the British, changed all that.

After being decommissioned in October 1955, Midway underwent a modernization project to give her the capability to operate high-performance jet aircraft. She was fitted with two steam catapults on the bow and a shorter steam catapult in the new angle deck. The purpose of the third catapult was to allow ready deck launches while keeping the landing area clear for recoveries in an “alert” situation. Additional improvements included the installation of a hurricane (enclosed) bow, moving elevator number three to the starboard deck edge aft of the island, enlarging the number one elevator to accommodate longer aircraft, new arresting gear, jet blast deflectors, and the largest aviation crane ever installed on an aircraft carrier. On recommissioning in September 1957, Midway’s load displacement had grown from 55,000 to 62,000 tons

Midway was again decommissioned in February 1966. During the intervening years she had operated in the Pacific Ocean and with the Seventh Fleet conducting combat operations during the early years of the Viet Nam War. After decommissioning she underwent the most extensive and complex modernization ever seen on a naval vessel. This upgrade would take four years to complete, but yielded a much more capable ship and made Midway operationally equivalent to the newest conventionally powered carriers. The flight deck was increased in surface area from 2.82 acres to 4.02 acres. The addition of three new deck-edge elevators could now lift 130,000 pounds compared with 74,000 pounds of her sister ships, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Coral Sea. Two powerful new catapults on the bow, three new arresting gear engines, and one barricade were installed and rearranged to accommodate a change of 13 degrees to the angle deck. The smaller waist catapult was removed since it was ineffective in launching the now heavier aircraft. Modern electronic systems were installed, a central chilled water air conditioning system replaced hundreds of individual units, and Midway became the first ship to have the aviation fueling system completely converted from aviation gas to JP-5. Delays, caused partially by the simultaneous construction of USS Horne and modernization of USS Chicago, and unscheduled repairs to the fire-damaged USS Oriskany, drove the initial modernization estimate from 87 million dollars to 202 million dollars.

On April 16, 1971, Midway began her sixteenth deployment 13,000 tons heavier than her original full load displacement. Arriving off the coast of South Vietnam with Air Wing Five embarked and a crew of 4,500, she relieved USS Hancock, CVA-19 on May 18. This was the beginning of single carrier operations, which lasted until the end of the month. During this time, the ship launched over 6,000 missions in support of allied operations in the Republic of Vietnam. Departing Yankee Station on June 5, she completed her final line period on October 31. Midway returned to Alameda on November 6th, after spending 146 consecutive days at sea. For this deployment, Midway was awarded the Meritorious Unit Commendation.

Due to a sudden North Vietnamese invasion of South Vietnam, Midway left on April 10, 1972, for a third Vietnam deployment, seven weeks prior to her scheduled deployment date. On this deployment, Air Wing Five aircraft played an important role in the effort of U.S. forces to stop the flow of men and supplies into South Vietnam from the North. On May 11, aircraft from Midway along with those from USS Coral Sea, CVA-43, USS Kitty Hawk, CVA-63, and USS Constellation, CVA-64 continued laying minefields in ports of significance to the North Vietnamese. Thanh Hoa, Dong Hoi, Vinh, Hon Gai, Quang Khe, and Cam Pha, as well as other approaches to Haiphong. Ships that were in port in Haiphong had been advised that the mining would take place and that the mines would be armed 72 hours later. On August 7, an HC-7 Det 110 helicopter, flying from Midway, and aided by other planes from the carrier and USS Saratoga, CVA-60, conducted a search and rescue mission for a downed aviator in North Vietnam. The pilot of an A-7 aircraft from Saratoga had been downed by a surface-to-air missile about 20 miles inland, northwest of Vinh, on 6 August. The HC-7 helo flew over mountainous terrain to rescue the pilot. The rescue helicopter used its search light to assist in locating the downed aviator and, despite receiving heavy ground fire, was successful in retrieving him and returning to an LPD off the coast. This was the deepest penetration of a rescue helicopter into North Vietnam since 1968. HC-7 Det 110 continued its rescue missions and by the end of 1972 had successfully accomplished 48 rescues, 35 of which were under combat conditions. In October, an aircraft crash landed on Midway’s deck. This aircraft ran into a group of parked aircraft and destroyed eight of them, killed 5 crewmen and injured 23 others. On January 12, 1973, an aircrew flying from Midway was credited with downing the last Mig of the war. Upon the signing of the cease-fire on January 15, Midway returned home. The Presidential Unit Citation was awarded to Midway and Carrier Air Wing Five for exceptional heroism for the period April 30, 1972 to February 09, 1973. This award was a rare presentation during the Vietnam War. During this time Midway was on her third Vietnam combat cruise and spent 208 line days on Yankee Station. CVW-5 had five air combat victories including the last downing of a Mig during the Vietnam hostilities. CVW-5 suffered 15 combat and five operational losses in this period.

On September 11, 1973, Midway left Alameda on one of her most important voyages to date. Arriving in Yokosuka, Japan on October 5, 1973, Midway and Carrier Air Wing Five marked the first forward-deployment of a complete carrier task group in a Japanese port as the result of an accord arrived at on August 31, 1972 between the United States and Japan. Known as the Navy’s Overseas Family Residency Program, Midway’s crew and their families were now permanently home-ported in Japan. In addition to the morale factor of dependents housed along with the crew in a foreign port, the move had strategic significance because it facilitated continuous positioning of three carriers in the Far East at a time when the economic situation demanded the reduction of carriers in the fleet. It also effectively reduced the deployment cycles of her sister Pacific Fleet carriers.

In April 1975, Midway returned to the waters of Vietnam. On April 20, all fixed-wing aircraft of CVW-5 were flown off to NAS Cubi Point and ten USAF 40th Aerospace Rescue & Recovery Squadron H-53’s were embarked. Midway, along with USS Coral Sea, CVA-43, USS Hancock, CVA-19, USS Enterprise, CVAN-65 and USS Okinawa, LPH-3, responded to the North Vietnamese overrunning two-thirds of South Vietnam. On April 29, Operation FREQUENT WIND was carried out by U.S. Seventh Fleet forces. As South Vietnam fell, the H-53’s from Midway flew in excess of 40 sorties, shuttling 3,073 U.S. personnel and Vietnamese refugees out of Saigon in two days, bringing them onto the ship. Midway’s HC-1 Det 2 Sea Kings then transported the evacuees to other ships. One South Vietnamese pilot flew a Cessna O-1 Bird Dog observation plane with his wife and five children out to Midway. He passed a note asking permission to land. The angle deck was cleared and the pilot made a good approach and landed with room to spare. The crew of Midway met him with cheers. For her role in the operation, Midway was awarded the Navy Unit Commendation and the Humanitarian Service Medal.

Immediately following Operation FREQUENT WIND, Midway steamed south into the Gulf of Siam to Thailand and brought aboard over 100 American built aircraft preventing them from falling into communist hands. When they were aboard, the ship steamed at high speed to Guam, where the planes were offloaded by crane in record time. After the offload in Guam and a brief stop in Subic Bay, Midway entered the Indian Ocean and operated there from October until the end of November. On November 25, 1975, during post “MIDLINK” exercises, a fatal accident occurred. While attempting to land on the Midway, an aircraft struck the ramp, bolted, impacted the barricade, and struck another aircraft. Flying debris injured two crew members. Midway returned to Yokosuka in time to celebrate the 1975 Christmas holiday.

In June 1976, Midway participated in Exercise TEAM SPIRIT, an exercise in intense electronic warfare and bombing missions over South Korea. In August 1976, a Navy task force headed by Midway made a show of force off the coast of Korea in response to an unprovoked attack on two U.S. Army officers who were killed by North Korean guards on August 18. Midway’s response was in support of a U.S. demonstration of military concern vis-à-vis North Korea.

1977 saw Midway participating in MIDLINK ’77, a two-day exercise hosted by the Iranian Navy, and included representatives of Pakistan, Turkey, and the United Kingdom.

February 1978 saw Midway joining in with the JMSDF (Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force) for the largest combined exercise to that date. On May 31, 1978, while docked in Yokosuka, Japan, a fire which originated in the exhaust ventilation system, quickly spread through the 3A boiler uptakes on the second deck, and terminated in the main uptake space. The cause of the fire was later thought to be from welding in a vent system containing a fine oil mist which ignited and spread.

Midway relieved USS Constellation, CV-64 as the Indian Ocean contingency carrier on April 16, 1979. Midway and her escort ships continued a significant American naval presence in the oil-producing region of the Arabian Sea and Persian Gulf. On August 09, while berthed in Yokosuka, Japan, a fire, caused by a broken acetylene line, broke out killing one worker and injuring 17 sailors. Also in August, the Vice President of the United States boarded Midway in Hong Kong for a courtesy visit. On November 18, she arrived in the northern part of the Arabian Sea in connection with the continuing hostage crisis in Iran. Militant followers of the Ayatollah Khomeini, who had come to power following the overthrow of the Shah, seized the U.S. Embassy in Tehran on November 4 and held 63 U.S. citizens’ hostage. Midway was joined on November 21 by USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63, and both carriers, along with their escort ships, were joined by USS Nimitz, CVN-68 and her escorts on January 22, 1980. Midway was relieved by USS Coral Sea, CV-43 on February 5, 1980.

Following a period in Yokosuka, Midway was again on duty on May 30, 1980, this time relieving USS Coral Sea on standby south of the Cheju-Do Islands in the Sea of Japan following the potential of civil unrest in the Republic of Korea. On July 29, Midway collided with the Panamanian merchant ship Cactus while transiting the passage between Palawan Island of the Philippines and the coast of Northern Borneo 450 nautical miles southwest of Subic Bay enroute to Singapore. While Midway sustained no serious damage, two sailors working in the liquid oxygen plant were killed, three were injured, and three F-4 Phantom aircraft parked on the flight deck were damaged. On August 17, Midway relieved USS Constellation, CV-64 to begin another Indian Ocean deployment and to complement the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower, CVN-69 task group still on contingency duty in the Arabian Sea. Midway spent a total of 118 days in the Indian Ocean during 1980.

On March 16, 1981, an A-6 Intruder from VA-115 aboard Midway sighted a downed civilian helicopter in the South China Sea. Midway immediately dispatched helicopters from HC-1 Det 2 to the scene. All 17 people aboard the downed helicopter were rescued and brought aboard the carrier. The chartered civilian helicopter was also plucked out of the water and lifted to Midway’s flight deck. In September 1981, the Chief of Naval Operations kicked off a tour of Far East Naval Units when he visited Midway while in port Yokosuka.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Midway Food Service was awarded the Edward F. Ney Memorial Award for excellence in food service in both 1982 and 1983 becoming the second ship and first aircraft carrier to win the award in consecutive years. The author is proud to have been the Leading Mess Management Specialist and to have led a Kick-Ass Food Service Division during the period from 1981 until 1984.

In December 1983, Midway deployed to the North Arabian Sea and set a record of 111 continuous days of operations.

From 1976 until 1983, Midway made six Indian Ocean cruises accounting for 338 days. She made 28 port calls in Subic Bay for 167 days, nine port calls in Hong Kong for 40 days, seven port calls in Pusan, Korea for 32 days, seven port calls in Sasebo, Japan for 28 days, three port calls in Perth, Australia for 16 days, three port calls in Mombasa, Kenya for 14 days, three port calls in Singapore for 11 days, one port call in Karachi, Pakistan for three days, and one port call in Bandar Abbas, Iran for two days. Perhaps it was the exotic nature of Midway’s liberty ports that contributed to the “Midway Magic”.

After several years of dependable overseas service, on December 2, 1984, Midway and her crew were awarded their second Meritorious Unit Commendation, for service rendered from July 27, 1982, until May 1, 1984.

On March 25, the final fleet carrier launchings of an A-7 Corsair II and an F-4S Phantom II took place from Midway during flight operations in the East China Sea. The Corsairs and Phantoms were being replaced by the new F/A-18 Hornets. On March 31, Midway moored to Dry Dock 6 at Yokosuka Naval Base to begin the “most ambitious work package in its 40-year history.” EISRA-86 (Extended Incremental Selected Repair Availability) condensed the workload of a major stateside carrier overhaul from the usual 12-14 months, into an eight-month modernization. This included the addition of the catapult flush deck nose gear launch system, the additions of MK7 MOD1 jet blast deflectors, restack and re-reeve of arresting gear engines, installation of larger rudders, the addition of new fire main system valves and pumps, new air traffic consoles, a new viable anti-submarine warfare capability, the construction of intermediate maintenance avionics shops to support the F/A-18 aircraft, and the removal of over 47 tons of unusable cable. Blisters were also built and mounted to the sides of Midway. With this monumental task being completed three days ahead of schedule, the first Air Wing Five F/A-18 Hornet trapped aboard Midway on November 28, 1986.

On January 9, 1987, Midway was reactivated with Battle Group ALFA and departed Yokosuka. On May 22, while en route to Eastern Australia, Midway trapped a VMA-331 AV-8 Harrier operating off USS Belleau Wood, LHA-3. These Harrier operations were the first in Midway’s history. On this cruise, Midway was the first U.S. Navy carrier to visit Sydney, Australia since 1972. Over 7,000 visitors toured the ship during the 10-day port call. On July 10, the launch of a VFA-195 Hornet marked the 76,000th catapult shot from the port catapult since Midway’s recommissioning in 1970. On November 14, the EA-3B “Whale” made its last run from the deck of Midway. The Whale was replaced by a C-2 Greyhound from VRC-50, which embarked aboard Midway on November 9 for an Indian Ocean deployment. During 1987 and 1988, the ship deployed to the Indian Ocean as part of Operation ERNEST WILL, earning the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal.

At the time of her refit in 1986, hull bulges had to be added to create additional buoyancy to compensate for the increased tonnage. However, these ungainly appendages seriously affected Midway’s stability. During sea trials in 1986, excessive rolls in moderate seas took green water over her flight deck, thereby hampering flight operations. A 1988 Senate committee, outraged by the inept modifications carried out in the shipyard, voted to retire Midway early as a cost-saving measure. However, after considerable Navy lobbying the committee was overruled, with $138 million voted to remedy her stability dilemma.

On March 13, 1989, Midway participated in Exercise TEAM SPIRIT in the waters off South Korea for the second consecutive year. From June 7-8, Midway was put on standby after the massacre in Tiananmen Square for possible evacuation of American citizens from the People’s Republic of China.

Midway’s dependability for rapid response was reaffirmed on August 16, 1989 as she celebrated her 44th year of service by deploying again to the Indian Ocean. On August 28, Midway participated in Exercise THALAY, a three-day exercise with Royal Thai Navy ships. On September 9, Midway logged its 200,000th catapult shot since being recommissioned in 1972. On September 30, an F/A-18 Hornet aircraft from the Midway mistakenly dropped a 500-pound bomb on the deck of the USS Reeves, CG-24, during training exercises in the Indian Ocean 32 miles south of Diego Garcia, creating a five-foot hole in the bow, sparking a small fire, and injuring five sailors. On November 10, Midway became the first Navy carrier to pull pier side in Fremantle, Australia. While returning from this cruise, Midway participated in Operation CLASSIC RESOLVE, supporting the Philippine government of President Corazon Aquino against a coup attempt. The operation, run in conjunction with the Air Force and assisted by the USS Enterprise (CVN-65) lasted from December 2 to December 9. For this action, she earned another Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal.

1989 and 1990 saw extensive sea time, including deployments to the Northern Arabian Sea and trips to Australia, Diego Garcia, Hong Kong, Kenya, Korea, Philippines, Thailand, and Singapore.

From 1973 to 1991, Midway’s history is hallmarked by Indian Ocean cruises and port calls at some of the most exotic Far East ports. Being America’s first forward deployed ship, Midway remained on the “knife’s edge” of readiness and maintained a highly visible presence in the region in support of U.S. policy. Midway no longer went in for overhauls, rather her upkeep was managed through periods of EISRA (Extended Incremental Ship’s Restricted Availability). These brief periods allowed Midway to be serviced, but also available at any time. In the post-Vietnam era prior to 1990, Midway earned four Battle Efficiency Ribbons, the Navy and Marine Corps Expeditionary Medal, three Armed Forces Expeditionary Medals, the Humanitarian Service Medal and two Meritorious Unit Commendations.

Midway’s last two years in commissioned service would prove to be perhaps her most historic. In 1990, while celebrating 45 years of service, Midway received official announcement on her decommissioning. An announcement in February confirmed that she was scheduled to decommission in 1991. Even with this announcement, Midway continued to maintain her seagoing reputation by being underway more than most other aircraft carriers. With her unique combination of modernized strength and years of experience, she strived to maintain peace and stability in the Western Pacific.

Disaster struck the Midway on June 20, 1990. While conducting routine flight operations approximately 125 nautical miles northeast of Japan, the ship was badly damaged by two onboard explosions. These explosions led to a fire that raged more than ten hours. In addition to damage to the ship’s hull, three crew members died and eight others were seriously injured in the line of duty. All 11 crewmen belonged to an elite fire-fighting team known as the Flying Squad. When Midway entered Yokosuka Harbor the next day, 12 Japanese media helicopters flew in circles and hovered about 150 feet above the flight deck. Three busloads of reporters were waiting on the pier. About 30 minutes after Midway cast its first line, more than 100 international print and electronic journalists charged over the brow to cover the event. The news media made a major issue out of the incident, as it happened amid other military accidents. It was thought that the accident would lead to the ship’s immediate retirement due to her age.

Despite the announced decommissioning and the fire, Midway’s role as a potent member of the U.S. Naval forces was again reaffirmed when she departed Yokosuka, Japan on October 2, 1990 in support of Operation DESERT SHIELD. On November 2, 1990, MIDWAY arrived on station in the North Arabian Sea, relieving USS Independence, CV-62. For the DESERT SHIELD portion of the campaign, Midway was the only carrier in the Persian Gulf. She was the first carrier to operate extensively and for prolonged periods within the mined waters of the Gulf itself. On November 15, she participated in Operation IMMINENT THUNDER, an eight-day combined amphibious landing exercise in northeastern Saudi Arabia, which involved about 1,000 U.S. Marines, 16 warships, and more than 1,100 aircraft. Midway also made the first Persian Gulf port call for an aircraft carrier when she visited Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates for Christmas of 1990. Midway was also the flagship of the Persian Gulf Battle Force Commander, Rear Admiral Daniel P. March (Commander Task Force 154). Admiral March was the operational commander for all coalition naval forces within the Persian Gulf.

Meanwhile, the United Nations set an ultimatum deadline of January 15,1991 for Iraq to withdraw from Kuwait. After steaming for two and a half months in the North Arabian Sea, Operation DESERT STORM, the fight to liberate Kuwait, began on January 17, 1991. Aircraft from Midway flew the initial air strikes of Operation DESERT STORM. An A-6E Intruder from the “Nighthawks” of VA-185 flying from Midway became the first carrier-based aircraft “over the beach” during that first strike. During the conflict, Midway’s aircraft flew 3,339 combat sorties, an average of 121 per day during the war. Midway aircraft dropped 4,057,520 pounds of ordnance on targets in Iraq and occupied Kuwait.

The jet aircraft aboard Midway were not alone in taking the fight to the Iraqis. HS-12 conducted two Combat Rescues, rescued and captured a total of 25 Iraqi sailors, destroyed nine mines, and captured the first piece of Kuwaiti soil – a small island (the only property captured or liberated by the Navy). HS-12 also recovered the body of an Iraqi Naval Officer who had apparently been killed by his crew. At the end of the war, HS-12 chased down an escaping speed boat and forced it ashore on another island. The four captured occupants turned out to be members of the Iraqi Secret Police.

After 43 days of combat, Kuwait had been liberated with a resounding defeat of Iraqi forces. Operation DESERT STORM ended at midnight on February 27, 1991. Midway was the only one of the four carriers operating in the Persian Gulf to lose no aircraft or personnel. Midway departed the Persian Gulf on March 10 and returned to Yokosuka, Japan. For her actions during Operations DESERT SHIELD and DESERT STORM, Midway again received the Battle Efficiency Award and the Navy Unit Commendation.

Midway’s versatility was again demonstrated in June of 1991 with her participation in Operation FIERY VIGIL. On June 16, Midway was given one day’s notice to sortie from her berth in Yokosuka, Japan and steam at high speed for Subic Bay Naval Base in the Philippines to assist with the evacuation of military personnel and their families following the volcanic eruption of Mt. Pinatubo.

Prior to departing, Midway crewmen worked through the night loading enough food and supplies to provide for 5,000 people for two weeks. Items included 1,100 cots, pet food, and baby diapers and bottles. Within 24 hours of receiving notice of the emergency, Midway was underway with the helicopters of HS-12 as the sole representative of Air Wing Five embarked.

Midway made her best speed toward Subic Bay, slowing briefly near Okinawa to embark six helicopters from HMH-772 and a contingent of Marines. The ship arrived at Subic Bay June 21 and brought aboard 1,823 evacuees, almost all of them Air Force personnel leaving Clark Air Base. Additionally, Midway brought aboard 23 cats, 68 dogs, and one lizard, pets of the evacuees. Midway’s guests were greeted with a clean bed, a hot shower, and a steak dinner, their first hot meal in more than a week.

In a trip which included a high-speed night transit of the Van Diemen Passage, Midway took the evacuees to the island of Cebu in the Philippines. On arrival, HS-12 and HMH-772 flew them to Mactan International Airport. There, the evacuees boarded Air Force transport planes for flights that would eventually take them to the United States.

In August 1991, Midway departed Yokosuka, Japan for the last time, steaming towards her first United States port call in almost 18 years. She had been the first carrier to be “forward deployed” in a foreign country, sailing for 17 years out of Yokosuka, Japan. Arriving in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, Midway turned over the duty as the “Tip of the Sword” to USS Independence, CV-62. Independence would be replacing Midway as the forward-deployed carrier in Yokosuka, Japan. This turnover included swapping CVW-5 for CVW-14, the first air wing change for Midway in 20 years. After leaving Hawaii, Midway made a brief visit to Seattle, Washington, where more than 50,000 people visited the ship during a three-day open house.

On September 14, 1991, Midway arrived at her final homeport, Naval Air Station North Island in San Diego, California. Her crew then began the tremendous task of preparing the ship for decommissioning and preservation as part of the Ready Reserve Fleet.

As part of her decommissioning preparation, the Navy sent out a Board of Inspection and Survey team to assess the ship’s material condition and evaluate her capabilities. To perform this inspection, the ship got underway for one last time on September 24, 1991. On this day, the ship successfully completed a rigorous series of tests, including full-power sea trials. Midway trapped and launched her last aircraft that day, with the honor falling to Commander, Carrier Air Wing Fourteen, Captain Patrick Moneymaker, flying an F/A-18 Hornet. At the completion of the day’s events, Midway headed for home at 32 knots. Despite her age and imminent decommissioning, the inspection team found Midway fully operational and fit for continued service, a testimonial to the men who maintained the ship throughout her many years. At the end of her career, Midway’s last embarked flag officer, Rear Admiral Joseph W. Prueher noted, Midway had “sprinted across the finish line.”

Midway was decommissioned for the last time at North Island Naval Air Station in San Diego, California on April 11, 1992. She was stricken from the Navy List on March 17, 1997 and was stored at the Navy Inactive Ship Maintenance Facility, Bremerton, Washington.

On September 30, 2003, a long-awaited event happened… after eleven years, Midway was finally underway again! Although only under tow by the Foss Maritime Company’s tugs Lauren Foss and Lindsey Foss, she was heading back out to sea for another voyage. Midway was on a journey to Oakland, California.

October 07, 2003 saw Midway arriving at the Charles P. Howard Terminal in Oakland, California. Restoration work was performed before Midway was again taken under tow on December 31. The Foss Maritime Company’s Corbin Foss towed Midway down the coast of California, arriving in San Diego Bay on January 05, 2004. Midway was temporarily berthed at NAS North Island to load restored aircraft and also add ballast and equipment in preparation for her move across the bay to Navy Pier.

Midway’s final journey occurred on January 10, 2004. Several hundred guests were aboard as she was towed across San Diego Bay to her new home at Navy Pier. With much celebration and ceremony, Midway was berthed at Navy Pier, where she officially opened as the San Diego Aircraft Carrier Museum on June 07, 2004. Once again, Midway’s popularity showed as 3,058 visitors went aboard on opening day.

Conceived and built during the desperate days of World War II, the carriers of the Midway class carried a crew of 4,500 and up to 70 aircraft. The 1,000-foot-long Midway was once the largest carrier afloat, growing from 45,000 tons in 1945 to 74,000 tons in 1991. However, she had a displacement about two-thirds that of contemporary nuclear-powered flattops. When operating at sea the ship was refueled every three days, burning approximately 100,000 gallons of oil a day. When first built, the Midway’s bow was open to the sea, and was enclosed in 1957 as part of a major overhaul.

The ability to adapt to new technologies, systems, platforms, and operational needs is nowhere better exemplified than in the design and 50-year operational history of the USS Midway. Designed during World War II, in 1945, this “flattop” initially operated piston-driven propeller aircraft, yet returned from her last deployment in 1991 with the Navy’s most modern, multipurpose strike-fighters. Her original axial-deck design was modified to an angled-deck layout, her original hydraulic catapults were replaced with more powerful steam catapults, and the most basic electronics replaced by advanced sensors and communications equipment.

Midway sailed in every ocean of the world, covering more miles than anyone can count. It is estimated that more than 200,000 young Americans trod her decks, gaining manhood, fighting their country’s wars and sometimes paying the ultimate price. After ultimately serving her country for 47 years, Midway now carries out her final “tour of duty” as a floating museum in San Diego. She is a tribute to the contributions of the armed services and as a dynamic, interactive beacon of education and entertainment.

“Midway Magic” is more than a slogan. The ship operated longer, survived more modernization projects and was forward deployed longer than any other aircraft carrier. It was the crew of the Midway that provided the sorcery. But, like the magician’s hat from which the rabbit appears, the Midway was the vessel in which the magic had been created. Long after the quiet descended on Midway’s empty compartments, her catapults forever silent, her main engines cold and motionless, and her halyards clear, those of us who were part of Midway’s story will remember her and say “There truly was Magic here.”

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

My Seabag

By Garland Davis

My Seabag. There was a time when everything I owned had to fit in my seabag.

Seabags were nasty rascals? Fully packed, one of the suckers weighed more than the poor devil hauling it. The damn things weighed a ton and some idiot with an off-center sense of humor sewed a carry handle on it to help you haul it. Hell, you could bolt a handle on a Greyhound bus but it wouldn’t make the damn thing portable. The Army, Marines, and Air Force got footlockers and WE got a big ole’ canvas bag.

After you warped your spine jackassing the goofy, unwieldy thing through a bus or train station, sat on it waiting for connecting transportation and made folks mad because it was too damn big to fit in any overhead rack on any bus, train, and airplane ever made, the contents looked like hell. All your gear appeared to have come from bums who slept on park benches.

Traveling with a seabag was something left over from the “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum” sailing ship days. Sailors used to sleep in hammocks, so you stowed your issue in a big canvas bag and lashed your hammock to it, hoisted it on your shoulder and, in effect, moved your entire home from ship to ship.

I wouldn’t say you traveled light because with ONE strap it was a one shoulder load that could torque your skeletal frame and bust your ankles. Chiropractors salivated at the sight of a sailor trying to hump a seabag. It was like hauling a dead Green Bay Packer’s linebacker.

They wasted a lot of time in boot camp telling you how to pack one of the suckers. There was an officially sanctioned method of organization that you managed to forget after ten minutes on the other side of the gate at Great Lakes, San Diego or Orlando’s boot camp.

You got rid of a lot of the ‘issue’ gear when you reported into Ship or Submarine. Did you EVER know a tin-can or boat sailor who had a raincoat? A flat hat? One of those nut-hugger knit swimsuits? How about those ‘roll-your-own’ neckerchiefs? The ones girls in a good Naval tailor shop would cut down & sew it into a ‘greasy snake’ for two bucks?

Within six months, EVERY fleet sailor was down to ONE set of dress blues, port & starboard, undress blues, and whites, a couple of white hats, boots, shoes, a watch cap, assorted skivvies, a pea coat, and three sets of bleached-out dungarees. The rest of your original issue was either in the pea coat locker, lucky bag, or had been reduced to wipe-down rags in the paint locker. Underway ships were NOT ships that allowed a vast accumulation of private gear. Hobos who lived in discarded refrigerator crates could amass greater loads of pack-rat crap than fleet sailors. The confines of a canvas-back rack, side locker, and a couple of bunk bags did NOT allow one to live a Donald Trump existence.

Space and the going pay scale combined to make us envy the lifestyle of mud-hut Ethiopians. We were global equivalents of nomadic Mongols without ponies to haul our stuff. And after the rigid routine of boot camp, we learned the skill of random compression, known by mothers worldwide as ‘cramming’. It is amazing what you can jam into a space no larger than a breadbox if you pull a watch cap over a boot and push it with your foot. Of course, it looks kinda weird when you pull it out, but they NEVER hold fashion shows at sea and wrinkles added character to a ‘salty’ appearance.

There was a four-hundred-mile gap between the images on recruiting posters and the ACTUAL appearance of sailors at sea. It was NOT without justifiable reason that we were called the tin-can Navy. We operated on the premise that if ‘Cleanliness was next to Godliness’ we must be next to the other end of that spectrum… We looked like our clothing had been pressed with a waffle iron and packed by a bulldozer. But what in hell did they expect from a bunch of swabs that lived in the crew’s hole of a Fletcher Class tin-can? After a while you got used to it, you got used to everything you owned picking up and retaining that distinctive aroma, you got used to old ladies on busses taking a couple of wrinkled nose sniffs of your pea coat, then getting up and finding another seat.

Do they still issue seabags? Can you still make five bucks sitting up half the night drawing a ship’s picture on the side of one of the damn things with black and white marking pens that drives the old Chief Master-at-Arms into a ‘rig for heart attack’ frenzy? Make their faces red… The veins on their neck bulge out… And yell, ‘What in God’s name is that all over your seabag???’

‘Artwork, Chief… It’s like the work of Michelangelo… MY ship… GREAT, huh?”

“Looks like some damn comic book…”, says the man with cobras tattooed on his arms… A skull with a dagger through one eye and a ribbon reading ‘DEATH BEFORE SHORE DUTY’ on his shoulder… Crossed anchors with ‘Subic Bay-1945’ on the other shoulder… An eagle on his chest and a full blown Chinese dragon peeking out between the cheeks of his ass…

If ANYONE was an authority on stuff that looked like a comic book, it HAD to be that MAA…

Sometimes, I look at all the crap stacked in my garage and home, close my eyes, smile, remembering and yearning for a time when EVERYTHING I owned could be crammed into a canvas bag.

To follow Tales of an Asia Sailor and get e-mail notifications of new posts, click on the three white lines in the red rectangle above, then click on the follow button.

The Big Yellow House

By Vera Guthrie

Hello everyone, I am known as the big yellow house. I was built in 1925 and was home to a gentleman and his family until his death. I was the largest house in the neighborhood and everyone knew me for a landmark.

My last owner was a sweet young widow named Maude, she purchased me in 1959. Her husband had passed away at a very young age and she had four little boys. I was excited when she bought me and hoped that she would stay forever. Aunt Florence was also a fixture in the home helping Maude with the boys as well as Maude’s two close friends Coleen and Annie. Maude worked third shift at the hospital, she was a recovery room nurse. She was a sweet gentle woman who loved her family very much. She also kept her boys in line. They were taken to church every Sunday and went to school and rarely got away with anything.

Oh the growing up years for those boys was so much fun. My walls echoed with the laughter and giggles and shenanigans of those boys. Christmas was always a big event and the boys always got money from their Aunt Lillian and they would spend hours on their tummies in the dining room pouring over a Sears catalog deciding what they would buy. They played well together and fought as boys will but in the end they were a band of brothers. Maude loved to have the whole family gathered around her table and listen to the laughter as they enjoyed her cooking.

As years went by the boys grew up and married; Jack and Vera even took their vows in my living room and had their reception in my grand dining room. Some of the boys moved out on their own, but the holidays everyone flocked to my walls to be with each other and Maude. Even as she lost her vision, Maude still cooked. She told her daughter in law once “I love to hear my boys all here laughing and talking” and oh so did I. Later on my walls were echoing with the boys and their wives, some of them had children and once again the little ones were running through the house squealing and giggling. Oh my, the years seemed to fly and now there were great grand babies coming in and once again the cries of babies and the cooing of those who adored them.

As Maude and I grew old together, she repaired me as best she could and the boys came back and caulked me up and fixed my plumbing and held me together. There were many quiet days and nights now. Maude and I listen to the old TV shows on Hallmark like Little House on the Prairie. She said they were new to her as she was working when they were weekly shows. They sure were new to me. Once a month Maude hosted her church circle meeting and we enjoyed that. But the days were getting long and I could tell Maude was getting tired. I think she and I sat there a lot remembering the days gone by.

Maude started going to the hospital a lot and I worried seems the stays got longer and longer. Her sons would drop by to pick up more pajamas or bed jackets I was getting worried.

Then it happened one day all the family came to the house and I knew by the talk my sweet Maude was gone she had passed and I wanted to cry. I listened as they cleaned out her belongings and as my walls began to echo with just words; no little boys, no babies, just words. So now after 55 years I am yet just a shell, missing Maude, missing the boys, and longing for the laughter of another family to return to my walls.

You see I have a soul I have a heart; it is the family that resides within my walls. I am more than a building I am home, I am comfort, I am solace, I am shelter, I am warmth, and I am joy. I am now a memory to all that resided inside my walls. I am so much more than the Big Yellow House.

Vera Guthrie was born in 1961 the youngest of 5 children. Her first twelve years was lived on tobacco farms. She has always felt lucky that she grew up in an era where imagination was your best toy. Her mother taught her the joy of a good book and they often had deep discussions about what they were reading. After graduating High School with honors Vera worked twenty-five years in banking and finance. Vera is now employed with a nonprofit organization that provides assistance to Senior Citizens regarding financial issues and aging. She is married to Jack and they have a dog Chewie and two cats Earnie and Loucie. Jack and Vera are both deeply involved in the arts. Jack is a wood worker and Vera enjoys all mediums of art from metal work (pewter), jewelry making, flower arranging, and acrylics. In times of depression is when her writing comes to her. She is more apt to gravitate towards a blank journal when shopping. Her mother once told her “there is more power in the written word” and that is her mantra.

My Time in Vietnam.

By: Paul Reuter

I joined the Navy after High School. My Dad was a Second Class Boatswain’s Mate during World War Two and going into Navy seemed natural to me. Another reason I joined was because I wanted to serve on diesel boat submarines. So off to boot camp I go where I volunteer for submarines and Submarine School in Connecticut. I was sent for a submarine screening physical where I learned that I was color blind. This disability meant that I was physically unqualified for subs.

After boot camp, instead of submarines, I received orders to an LST homeported in Yokosuka. There I was assigned to the engine room. I am not sure if they knew I was color blind when they put me into the world of color coded pipes and valves where I made my life in the Navy. Being color blind haunted me my whole life. But that is a story to tell another time.

The Yokosuka homeported LST’s were assigned to Landing Ship Squadron 9. These LST’s spent most of the early years of the Vietnam War supplying the coastal ports of Chu Lai, Da Nang, Qua Viet and others. In early 1967 the Navy established the Naval Riverine Forces operating PBR’s and Swift boats in the water ways of the Mekong Delta. The LSTs became mother ships to these boats. The T’s provided mechanical support for the boats and hotel and food services for the crew personnel.

Each LST would spend about ninety days in country supporting the Riverine Forces and would then rotate back to Yokosuka for two months for upkeep and then rotate back to Vietnam again. As an engineer (snipe) I lived and breathed the humidity, heat and diesel oil of the engine room.

While transiting the river and other inland waters the ship was always at General Quarters. At times the ship was up to ninety miles inland from the sea coast. The ship was armed with three inch guns and fifty caliber machine guns. From time to time, we were tasked with providing gunfire support to the Riverine forces.

During the night while at anchor in Vietnam waters we were required to throw concussion hand grenades into the water adjacent to the ship to prevent North Vietnamese or Viet Cong swimmers from placing explosive devices on the ship’s hull.

My early experiences in this first ship laid the basis for what was to become a successful and satisfying Navy career. I liked being a Westpac sailor. I was transferred from the LST after two years as a Second Class Engineman. I really wanted to go to PBRs but my Mother and Dad talked me out of doing so. Sometimes I question myself for not volunteering for the boats. After my initial WestPac tour, I was assigned to Assault Craft Unit One in Coronado Calif.

Stateside was a letdown. I was a twenty-year-old Second Class Petty Officer who had already experienced two years of war and Westpac liberty. I discovered that California liberty sucked for sailors my age. After about thirty days at ACU One, I volunteered to deploy to Vietnam as a replacement on an LCU crew. After about five months in California I was deployed back to the Nam. I spent about seven months on the LCU stationed in Da Nang tasked with resupplying units based on the rivers.

The Navy’s plan for me after ACU One was nine months of Vietnamese Language school in El Paso, Texas and three months of survivor, weapons and other schools at Coronado, California. I was then assigned to the U.S. Naval Advisory Group, Vietnam. This was the result of a special Z-Gram from the CNO that affected Enginemen. That is another story to tell another time.

During my time with the Naval Advisory Group Vietnam I was assigned to Vietnamese Navy Units at Saigon, Moc Hoa, Cal Lanh and Dong Tam. The duty mostly required time riding the rivers on U. S. Navy boats that had been turned over to the Vietnamese Navy. I was part of a two-man team that consisted of a LCDR and me. This two-year tour was cut short to just six-months in 1973, when U.S. forces left Vietnam. I was wounded during this tour and was awarded the Purple Heart Medal. Perhaps I’ll tell that story sometime.

All these events transpired during my first six years in the Navy. After the Vietnam War, I was assigned into USS Canopus in Holy Loch, Scotland and the rest is history. There are many more sea stories of Viet Nam and my first three years in the Navy. Only those of us who served in those days of the Vietnam War and experienced the liberty of the Southeast Asian ports can really understand the stories we tell.

Paul Reuter is a retired Navy LCDR /LDO (6130). He served for 23 years in the Navy in various ships and stations, mostly overseas in Westpac. After retirement from the Navy he worked in gas turbine power plants. Paul lives in North Hanover New Jersey.

Tales of an Asia Sailor

Crap, true and not, that has wandered through my mind.

Monthly Archives: April 2016

A Sailor You Be

Grannyisms

A Sailor Died Today

“Pure Sex Sir”

Inspections

Destroyer Life

USS Midway

My Seabag

The Big Yellow House

My Time in Vietnam.