Tribute to the passing of a Giant of a Man, Captain Tony Schneider

A friend back in Albuquerque called to tell me about the passing of a true hero who had a profound impact on my life. Here is the obit as it ran in the Albuquerque Journal:

SCHNEIDER -- Tony Schneider, 92, passed away October 16, 2010. Those who wish to express condolences may do so at: www.danielsfuneral.com Tony's care has been entrusted to: Daniels Family Funeral Services 7601 Wyoming Blvd, NE Albuquerque, NM 87109 (505) 821-0010

Plain and simple it hides a huge Man and true hero, recalled to active duty in God’s own Navy.

Let me explain. I knew him as Captain TF Schneider, Naval Science Instructor. For three years he was one of two men in my High School Junior ROTC program that were Naval Science Instructors. The one was a crusty Senior Chief that came out of Submarines (SSBN’s). He was our “Military” instructor and taught us infantry drill, marching and standing in formation. We actually carried old rifles (1903 Springfield’s with lead poured down the bore) which today would make todays Public School Administrators crap their pants. But the Senior Chief was good for a cup of coffee and great modern sea stories.

That's me in the middle of the top row, circa 1973.

The real “Naval Science” was taught by the Captain. An unassuming man who preached to us Naval History, Sea Power and seamanship of all things, way out in the desert west of Albuquerque. But preach he did, three days a week we took his lectures; the other two day’s were given up to the Senior Chief. We saw everyone of the Victory at Sea movies, the good Captain had lectures designed around each episode. He was a former Naval Aviator and the oldest sea story we ever got out of him went all the way back to the day Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese. He was assigned to the USS Enterprise and flew his first combat air patrol on that day, searching for the Japanese fleet.

This is the Captain as I remember him, always the teacher, always the role model. Couldn't have asked for better.

After graduation I was one of the many that joined the Navy right out of High School. I was more than prepared thanks to both the Captain and the Senior Chief. After maybe 4 or 5 weeks into Basic training I was sent off to take the Basic Test Battery to determine what kind of school or job specialty I was to get as I was at that point in time undesignated. Once the scores came back I was sent again to see the Career Councilor to pick that Rating and to fill out my “Dream sheet” as it’s called. This is the list of preferred duty stations.

I had high test scores and was told I could go into any job the Navy had. So, I did some figuring. I wanted aviation; I wanted to work on the flight deck of an Aircraft Carrier. But deep in my mind the gears were turning. I remembered the lessons taught by that unassuming Captain. The Big lesson he taught was of how in two consecutive World War’s, the Free world had been brought to its knees because of Submarines.

But, deeper inside was a more subtle lesson, that Anti-Submarine Warfare (or ASW) had turned back the Submarine menace and allowed not just the Naval Forces free reign on the oceans but the commercial shipping which in both war’s allowed beleaguered nations to continue the Fight.

It was also the lack of any ASW that gave our Navy’s submarines free reign in the Pacific. A force that represented only 2% of the entire Navy accounted for 55% of Japan’s maritime losses (from “Silent Victory” by Clay Blair, Jr.). An astonishing figure that was allowed because Japan fielded only a token ASW force.

So it was ASW for me and in Naval Aviation there were only two ratings that were supposed to be devoted to ASW, AX and AW. The first of these is the Electronics Technician that specialized in ASW equipment, the latter is Operator of ASW equipment, he flies in the aircraft. The former worked the Flight Deck.

I filled out the various paper work requesting the AX as first priority and AW as the second. Of course the Career Councilor laughed at me saying that both schools took months to get into, the waiting list was 6-months long. He prepared me for the Aviation Boatswain’s Mate job which would have been ok since it would have gotten me to a flight deck.

But luck was with me and I was sent from Boot Camp to “A” School to learn Aviation Electronics and to further specialize in ASW equipments. I was assigned to VS-31 and their mission was Anti Submarine Warfare. Carrier based ASW.

There were other lessons learned in those steel portable buildings that were used for the NJROTC program at my high school. Lessons like getting the job done at all costs, watching out for you shipmate and that we were all serving in the finest Naval Force the world had ever seen.

All from this unassuming Captain. And who was he really?

Well, from Wikipedia (yes he has a Wikipedia entry) he was Dive Bomber Pilot (the Douglass Dauntless SBD) who flew from not just the Enterprise but also from the USS Yorktown, the USS Lexington and from Henderson Field on the Island of Guadalcanal. He was shot down once, ran another aircraft out of fuel looking for the enemy during the fighting at Midway Island and participated in the sinking of the largest battleship ever built, the Japanese Battleship Yamato. He supported the invasions of not just Guadalcanal but also, the defense of Wake Island, the invasion of Iwo Jima and Okinawa. He also flew combat mission to the main Island of Japan and was there for the surrender as Commanding Officer of Bombing Squadron 9.

This unassuming Man was awarded the Navy Cross twice and the Distinguished Flying Cross three times.

And somehow ended up in Albuquerque teaching High School Naval Science, how lucky were we!

Fair Winds and Following Sea’s Captain Schneider. You had a profound influence on my life, one I am sure you are only now becoming aware of. I missed my chance back in the summer to reconnect with you and I will regret that forever, or until we meet again in that great Ready Room of the Heavens. Rest in Peace.

BT: Jimmy T sends.

Shore Patrol – Charlotte Ameale, U.S. VI

I settle into one of the long benches on the outside of the boat, at the risk of being sprayed with sea water but I like the fresh air and the view into port. I am wearing my whites, the Ice Cream-man outfit that all of us sailors hate but since we are in the Caribbean wearing Blues is out of the question. The boat I’m riding is one of the ships 60 foot U-Boat (the U is for Utility) and is used to haul sailors from the ship anchored out in the harbor to Fleet Landing. This is something all the big ships have to do since we can’t tie up to a pier, we draw too much draft as they say or in plain English, there is too much ship below the water line to get in close to land.

The Modern CV is just too big to pull in and tie off to a civilian pier, well for the East Coast Navy that is. The West Coast Navy can drive right up to the pier in the deep water ports of the Western Pacific. Not so for us serving on the Atlantic. So, to get ashore for Liberty we carry are own ships to haul us into to town. The 60 foot U-boat can carry as many as 120 sailors although you really don’t want to ride one when there are that many onboard. We also carry smaller 45-foot boats that carry upwards of 60 men. But I digress.

I am in the First contingent to go ashore but not so much for leisure but for duty. You see, I am going ashore as part of the required Shore Patrol cadre that is put ashore first to secure Fleet Landing and then to fan out into the nearby community and enforce the strict behavior guidelines expected of all the ship’s crew. This first Shore Patrol party is some 25 strong and our watch will commence when we first step off the boat and last for the next 12 hours. By then, sometime in the night we will be replaced with a smaller crew who will patrol through the rest of the night. Another party of 20 or more will come ashore at mid-day to repeat the cycle. Only on the last day will there be a staffing change, it will double on that last day to ensure everyone is collected and of course to control any recalcitrant members of the crew.

This is my favorite Shore Patrol assignment, First day in port, first shift. That first day is always long but you get off the big Boat ahead of the horde and there really are not that many drunks on that first night, most of those will be hunkered down in hotel rooms and not out on the street where we in uniform have to handle them. It is the last night in port when you seen dozens of drunks. So, I volunteer for that first day/night this way I don’t have to take the chance of being assigned on the last night.

We anchored off the Island of St. Thomas; the U.S.S. Eisenhower has come to the tiny town of Charlotte Ameale. The waters here are beautiful blue (not that greenish color off shore of the US) and the Island itself is small. There are more Islanders than sailors on Ike but not by much. We have been at sea for almost a month having left Norfolk for one of the many Training periods that we do prior to deployment to the Med. We will get 3-days here for R&R (or I&I depending on your take and monetary capacity) before we head back to the NOB.

The U-Boat ties up at what will become Fleet Landing; it’s just a spot on a pier that the Navy will use to load and unload the visiting sailors. We form up into two loose ranks, all 25 young sailors in white uniforms, the only distinguishing items that make us different than the many boat loads that will follow are the Black and Yellow ‘SP’ arm bands and the duty belts with our night sticks attached. It is 11:00 am and our watch starts, for the next 13 hours we will patrol the streets of Charlotte Amalie keeping the Ike’s crew in line, or at least giving the pretense that we are doing so. Four men are assigned “Beach Guard”, they stay behind to “guard” Fleet Landing. This small force will double when Liberty for the majority of the crew ends at 2300 hours (11:00 pm). Fleet Landing becomes a wild and woolly place when hundreds of drunk and near drunken sailors show up at the last minute for the ride back to their floating home. Very few are granted overnight Liberty and as a result they all have to be back on the ship by Midnight (Cinderella Liberty).

I am always happy to be assigned street duty instead of Beach Guard. The rest of us are given instruction by the OIC – Officer-in-Charge. Today the OIC is a Bull Ensign who is attached to one of the Light Attack Squadrons (A-7’s). Our instructions are to pair off and patrol the streets we are assigned. We are to be a presence at every place Sailors congregate. This means the Bar’s and night clubs. And there are plenty of both here.

My partner and I head off to the 4-Block area we have been assigned. There are 6 drinking establishments in this area and we stroll into each. At first there are only locals or visiting tourists in each place we go into. We are greeted warmly be each proprietor, they are happy the big ship is in port, lots of money to be made. The Ike and her Air Wing (CVW-7) comprise nearly 6000, all men (this was back before women were assigned sea duty on Ships) and all with money in their pockets from more than a month at sea.

We are offered drinks and told if we need anything simply ask. They are quick to endear us to them, they know that later when one or more of the many Sailors that visit their establishment will eventually wear out their welcome, it will be those of us on Shore Patrol that will remove the belligerent and especially the ones who get violent. And there will be those I am ashamed to report, a lot of Ugly Drunks in the Navy. So right now in the heat of the day each establishment is our best friend and we accept the offer of a coke on ice or lemonade. Later tonight we will be the ones they turn to keep the peace and restore order when things get out of hand, that when not if.

Slowly the composition at each place we visit changes. From the 2 or 3 locals at the start, each place gets a small contingent of sailors. They are easy to pick out in their uniforms (required on the First day of Liberty). By late afternoon it is mostly sailors in each place. After the sun goes down each place will be overflowing with sailors, all drinking. At first we are ignored as we go into each place but as the night wears on and more beer is consumed I pick up the occasional derogatory comment towards us, the SP. We are not liked by those who would embarrass the uniform. And each who will knows this and their comments are warning shots prior to their losing all civility. Yet they continue and later more than one will be forcefully removed and escorted out into the hands of a patrol van used to return them back to Fleet Landing.

For the first 5-hours we patrol, up and down our streets. Occasionally swapping beats with the pair of SP’s from another area, just to break up the monotony. Around 4 or 5 pm we stop to eat a dinner, it feel good to get off our feet even if for a short time. By 6:00pm we are back on the beat. It’s crowded in every place we go into, we move around circling the inside of each place. The noise loud and smoke from all the cigarettes is thick, we make a pass and depart, moving on to the next, and then the next.

Around 9:00 pm the OIC rounds us up along with the pair working the next area over from us. He asks us for a SITREP (Situation Report) and we report that all is calm now. Things could turn ugly or not, we tell him which bar is the most popular, the one with the most sailors which bear watching.

He accepts our reports and then gives us new orders and instructions. A certain “area” has been declared OFF-LIMITS up near the top of the hill on the fringe of the village. We are to join two others on the way there and cordon off this “area”. We are to patrol the two roads which front this “area” as the back is an undeveloped area and not illuminated. All sailors are to be turned away.

We leave immediately on foot walking up the streets and crossing through the entire village. Once on station we see that this “area” is a single house, it is the village Whore House.

We meet up with the two that are there and we deploy along the two roads, one has a side walk, the other is simply a road that continues up into the darkness and the top of the hill. We have a commanding view of not just the Village below but the harbor as well. We can seen boats tied up in the marina and our very own Ship, sitting at anchor maybe a mile out. The lights on her Island structure clearly illuminate the 69 that is her hull number, visible even this far away.

The First Class in charge assigns my partner and I to the harbor side of the house, we will patrol the side edge on the road. This side is dark; there are no street lights on this side. The house itself is huge and one of the few multi-story buildings we have seen, it’s 3-stories. The front has a large porch at the main entrances with a walkway down to the sidewalk. We walk from the very dark area at the back to the front and back again. We watch carefully for the approaching Sailors, they stand out in their whites so it is easy to pick them out at a distance.

We turn many away, sending them back the way they have come. Almost all question the need to quarantine this one house but we have not been availed of the reasons why it is now off limits.

After an hour or so on station the uniforms thin out, fewer and fewer as word gets out that this place of out of bounds. But on the edge of the darkness we see a lone white suited man approaching. By his silhouette we can tell he is a Sailor, the Dixie Cup hat is a dead giveaway. He plods on towards us; I watch closely, there is something familiar in his gait. It is the slow, methodical plodding rhythm in his walk that I recognize. Long before this man gets to the light I know who it is and I maneuver to intercept. Better to be turned away by someone you know.

As he gets closer and steps out the darks side of the road and crosses into the area directly in the light we can see him plain as day. It is who I think.

“Hey Phill!” I call out. Phill turns to me ignoring the approach of two other SP’s patrolling from the front. I wave them off.

Although he is a First Class and in uniform I refer to him by his first name, we are not strangers.

“Jimmy Tee” he says back. The emphasis on the Tee tells me Phill has had many adult beverages before making the long trek up the hill.

Phill is one of the First Class Petty Officers assigned to the same Shop or Work Center that I am assigned. We had several in fact (4 of them) in a 22 man work center. He was one I had first met while in A-School, before we had been assigned to VS-31. He was what we called a “re-tred” having been in the Navy and then gotten out. Upon re-enlistment he changed his professional designation into the Electronics field and that was where I met him, undergoing Electronics training. He was the only Petty Officer in the barracks; I was a lowly airman at the time. In the years I had known him I had learned a lot. His specialty was understanding people. His management of our shop and our tremendous work load was done with little bickering or argument which accompanies the management by the other First Class’s in the shop. Phill understood how to work the People side and from that he got more out of his crew than anyone else. It was his study of each of us as individuals that made him so effective as a First Class.

“Good evening, beautiful out don’t ya think?” I say. Phill smiles and turns to face the same way I am, we are looking out at the harbor. Ike is in the distance. We stand as two shipmates admiring the view, our home of the last 14 months or so. My SP partner stands back a bit, standing back out of the way.

“Yes Jimmy T, it is nice out and she is a lovely site.” Phill says. We stand there admiring the view. Phill then turns slightly towards me, leaning into me searching for privacy.

“I guess you are here turning all of us horny bustards away?” He asks. That is classic Phill, straight to the heart of the matter.

“Afraid so Phill.” I reply. He pursues his lips and shakes his head.

Phill is legendary for his ability to stay on the ship. On our last Mediterranean cruise he went ashore once in the entire 6-months we were deployed. His one chance for that most intimates of human contacts and we are there to turn him away.

“Ah, Just like my Navy ya know, deprive me of one of the few pleasures I seek.”

“Sorry Phill.” I say. “That’s Ok Jimmy. Not your fault. I guess I’ll head on back down there.” He says as he steps off. “Yeah, see you in the ship.” I say as he departs. Phill starts down the hill, his slow plodding walk, no hurry, no worry as he has said to me many times. He slips back into the darkness. I return to my partner and we resume our short walks in the dark.

We continue in this manner, stopping those that are obviously Navy and you can tell them easy enough, sending them back down the hill. For the next 90 minutes we work the side walk and street. All the while I think of Phill, his impact on me over the years. His simple charm and keen insight into men and their physiology, he is only one of two people I have known from the state of Idaho.

Around 2300 hours the inbound traffic is almost non-existent. There is not enough time left to come up here and still make it back to Fleet Landing by midnight. We stay on station waiting for relief or termination of the assignment.

Then, the front door to the house opens. We hear the laughter of women spill out with the opening of the door. A man steps out, he is dressed all in white and once out on the porch he turns back to the open door, he bows and waves, the door closes. He then turns to head down the long walkway out to the road, he places the ubiquitous Dixie cup hat on his head, he is one of us, an Ike crewman.

As he walks towards the road I notice the step, the sway and the methodical plodding gait. It could only be one person. I smile to myself in recognition of who this is. I maneuver to intercept him before any of the other SP’s get to him. I am not sure if there are standing orders to report anyone who had broken through the cordon, it would be better to handle this myself just in case.

“Phill, Phill, Phill.” I say when he is close. “Ah, Mr. Taylor. We meet again.” He says. “Yes we do.” I reply.

“I last saw you as you were working your way down the hill, how is it you are now exiting this out of bounds establishment.” I ask.

He smiles back at me, mischievousness in his eyes, or maybe it was bliss.

“Well you see, Jimmy T, knowing my Navy the way I do, I got to thinking just how serious this cordon of these fine facilities was. I thought I’d have a look and see for myself. So I took a stroll around the back and well, none of you guys are back there. So I figure “what the Hell”, I don’t get out much. I deserve this and you know all of these places have back doors.”

We both chuckle.

“In my Navy’s infinite wisdom no one thought to cover the rear. And now I fear it is too late to do anything about it, especially in my case.”

I laugh and say “You are right Phill, it is late. You better get going before you miss the last boat back to the ship.”

Phill smiles at me, give me a mock salute and proceeds on down the hill.

That was vintage Phill I thought as I watched him amble down that road into the darkness. The most striking part was not his being a whore-monger or even embarrassed by it, no lots of us in the Navy did that and you can’t besmirch a man for wanting to satisfy his more prurient needs. No, it was the way he always referred to the Navy as “His Navy” or “My Navy”. Phill had always taken ownership of the great big thing. The Navy. For him it was never that the Navy was right or wrong, it was his Navy and he was either right or wrong right along with it.

All these many years I had worked for and with Phill, I had mentored under him. His stubborn way of following each Maintenance Instruction no matter how trivial or mundane was legend in our shop. How he never took the short cut we had all practiced and documented in our Shop Gouge package. We laughed when he would fill out the document discrepancy reports or the “Anymouse” Form to report a hazardous condition, there were so many we always thought how could you document each and every one, but not Phill. He was steadfast in doing it right or as he would say, “the Navy way”. And as I stood there and watched him descend back down to our mutual home on the sea, it occurred to me what he had been teaching me all these years. Teaching all of us who would learn. It was ownership. I t was my Navy too, it was why so many called me a “lifer” despite any proof to the contrary, it was why I choose to go ashore on the first day of Liberty in uniform. To walk the streets as an example for the civilians to note as much as to take care of the Sailor who would need us, good or bad.

Yeah, I might walk with a purposeful and fast gait but some of Phill had rubbed off onto me. A little bit of his Navy.

The other 4 SP’s approached me; we all stood there in the street in a loose circle. “Was that guy a First Class?” someone asked, pointing down the hill with his thumb.

“Yeah” I say, “and one of the best in this man’s Navy!”

BT: Jimmy T sends.

This can only get Worse

As if things can't get any worse for the F-35 this comes out.

This can only get uglier as time goes along. I worked on a Lockheed aircraft for a very long time. 5 years at the Organizational level hands on in an actual S-3 Viking squadron. Cannibalism was a real problem for us and not just my specialty (I was an AX which is an Avionics Technician specialized in Anti-Submarine Warfare equipment), it was pretty much in every major aircraft category except for the Engines. We had the most reliable engine in the fleet, we actually went 11 months before we had to do our first engine change (FOD damage from one of them leather bomber jackets the flight crew like to wear). In my shop we cannibalized so much that we actually had rubber stamps that we used on our paper work because we cut so many Maintenance Action Forms (MAF's) that were the simple Remove from one aircraft to install in another OR the Install when received to cover the hole in the jet from actually taking the part out of the Hanger Queen. It was huge business for us.

But all of our trials game to us once we deployed to the boat. Which you can kind of understand, you know far away from home and all those extra guys in the Intermediate maintenance shops or that huge supply depot to draw from.

"Lockheed was "cannibalizing" parts from fuselages being built by Northrop to repair aircraft on the assembly line and in preflight testing."

This is a whole new world of hurt when the OEM is stealing parts during manufacturing to fill holes. I can just imagine what it will be like when they hit the fleet and then go off on deployment. Better take plenty of jets with them and maybe even park a few along the projected path of the ships intended movement, you know to back fill when needed. I wonder if they could pack one in one of them connex boxes and just ship them ahead!

Exciting times ahead for the Navy when they field this new Lockheed machine. I hope it is as successful as my ole war horse; the War Hoover was great after we worked out the kinks and the Navy de-scoped 60% of the electronic mission.

Thanks to: Alert 5

BT: Jimmy T sends.

USS Independence Commissioning

Here is some Navy News, long time for these spaces:

The Navy commissioned the first Trimaran based war ship, the LCS-2 U.S.S. Independence.

"Independence is a 419-foot aluminum trimaran, the first of its design in the surface fleet. It has a displacement of 2,800 metric tons, is capable of speeds in excess of 45 knots, and can operate in water less than 20 feet deep. Propelled by four water jets in addition to two diesel and two gas turbine engines, the ship boasts a range of over 3,500 nautical miles."

Her mission will be the Littoral battle space, or the near shore what is called the "Brown" water. She is unique in other ways besides her hull design:

"Independence is manned by two rotational crews, "blue" and "gold," of 40 Sailors each. These crews are further augmented by detachment specialists for each of the mission modules."

The concept of operations is more akin to an aircraft than a ship in that "modules" of electronic sensors and operations consoles can be loaded onto the "Indy" specific to a mission be it ASW, ASUW or some other of the many missions envisioned for the LCS class ships.

Now, while I was stationed with VS-31 we were assigned along with Carrier Air Wing 7 to the "Indy" the CV-62 version, and I made workups and deployments aboard her over two years (we were moved to the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower CVN-69 when she was ready for aircraft). She was a good ship. As a full blooded Aircraft Carrier the CV-62 Independence was substantially different in every way, size, armament, power projection and in crew manning (about 5000 men with Air Wing attached).

I don't know why the Navy has gotten away from naming our capital war ships for the more traditional Navy names (along with Independence, Saratoga, Ranger, etc.) and to the names of dead and living Presidents but they should go back to that. Those of us who man such vessels fight for an idea and ideal if you will, not a man living or dead.

Can any good come from naming an Aircraft Carrier the Bill Clinton? Yeah, it does not quite roll off the tongue nor I think will it ever induce fear in a potential enemy. Well maybe it will scare the men into thinking their women folk were at risk cause you know, once you go Bill you don't go back.

BT: Jimmy T sends.

Artifacts Part 1

These are things that I have laying around here from my past that are interesting and mainly speak to my days in the Navy.

My Flight Deck Cranial Helmet.

This first one is a "special" done for me by one of the Shop First Class that was a budding artist. I can't remember his name right now and I am not inclined to dig it up as he turned out to be an assHat. He once responded to my comment about getting stabbed in the back that he only put "sugar coated" knives in my back. Now, he did caricatures for many of us in the shop and in the squadron. I was known as kind of both a geek and a warmonger. I was in love with the Nuke, felt that it was not used enough (still do by the way). This helmet shows both, I was the Squadrons go-to-man for Computer repair, it was the single most complicated piece of gear in our jet and really made it possible for us to do with 4 crewman what the P-3 did with 16. I wore this helmet for quite a long time making numerous cruises onboard the USS Independence but when we first went onto the USS Eisenhower (CVN-69) these helmets were banned because of the famous "Eat Pussy" affair.

This is the helmet cover I wore after that:

Now, you want to know what the "Eat Pussy" affair was all about. Well, when we were onboard the Eike we had a lot of VIP's come aboard to you know look around the newest and most advanced ship in the Navy. One of these, not sure if it was SECNAV or SECDEF was taking a free ride in one of our S-3's which was a big deal since we had two full sets of flight controls so you could put a real pilot on and take a VIP out and actually let them fly the plane. So we saw a bunch of them, VIP's, we even had a special crew that would fly with VIP's all specially screened and good looking like. To make a good impression. Well, this one day we are launching this VIP out on a quick flight and we do our thing. The Cat Hook-up guy strolls up to hook the mighty Viking to the Catapult and here he is wearing on his helmet in great big letters "Eat Pussy". That's reflective too oh by the way, you could see it 20 feet away in the dark!

Well, this VIP gets on the radio and says something like "That's something you do see every day!" and before he returns for his obligatory arrested landing the Ship has come out with a proclamation regarding helmet markings. And we had to change them post haste. The funny thing is that the Boat thought it was one of us in the Squadron with the 'offensive' helmet and only mandated those of us in VS-31 change out, all the while the Cat Hook-up guy strode around advertising his favorite shish kabob meat (how else do you cat). Anyway, several VIP's later and he was toast too.
This is the last surviving Flight Deck Jersey I own, this is a green one. You can see how they fade in the laundry and the black stripe that meant we were members of a Squadron, not Ships Company. Of course the great big VS-31 helps with that id as well. I also wore white ones with a checkerboard on it but none of the survived. You will please note without comment on the size, no way will that fit on me today. Same for this next item:
Genuine gabardine navy pants. Original buttons too. Size, well let's just say they are way smaller than me today.

This is a "Piddle pack".

Used by male aviators that have to relieve themselves while flying. You can see the long neck and the compressed sponges to absorb and contain the uh, fluid. I kept this one, it was part of my small flight back that I kept for when I went flying (still have the flight suit but we have seen enough items that don't fit me). We actually had a storage box in the aircraft to store these. Once Females started flying in high numbers the Navy got rid of these, issuing instead these things that are by all rights and intent – adult diapers.

This is my TL-29 with belt holder.

The TL-29 was a wireman's knife and had the screwdriver blade (which is deployed) and an actual knife blade. We used these pretty much every day. They came out later with an improved version, the TL-31 but I never changed over. I was happy with the old one and carry to this day a knife on my hip; a Leatherman Serge along with a flashlight and my cell phone. Some habits you just don't shake.

Next item is a Hook Point. This is the business end of the tail hook of an S-3 Viking. The thing is huge and very heavy. They are actually removed after every 100 traps and tossed out, so they are big collector's items. Problem is they are very heavy maybe around 50 pounds. I put a slide rule in the picture for scale. You can see the abrading that occurs by the arresting wire in the maw of the hook, the braiding pattern is actually scored into the metal.

Finally, here is my Journal.

This was given to me on the evening I graduated High School by my Folks. They knew I would be leaving and that I loved to write. It was the perfect gift, it went to boot camp, Memphis and technical training, Jacksonville Florida and it survived all the many trips to sea (two different ships) and even the big move to Pennsylvania. It is more than three quarters full with my many stories, little notes, ad's I clipped from newspapers and notices that struck my fancy.

The last entry is immediately before I got married back in 1982. Nothing since.

BT: Jimmy T sends.

Navy Ground Pounder - My Longest Day of Work

The following are excerpts from my Journal during the Month of June 1977 while deployed aboard the USS Independence (CV-62). We were in the Mediterranean Sea conducting National Week Exercises against the USS Saratoga (CV-60) and her battle group and select NATO participants. These were Blue versus Orange Forces and we along with several Spanish and Turkish ships were the Orange Force. The Blue Force was our opposition and in general our two Battle Groups were going to fight each other. War at Sea.

These next 10 days we would work non-stop putting aircraft in the sky. This long event would become the longest single work day of my life.

Day 1

40*41'N x 11*16'E Steaming South - Somewhere between Sardinia and Naples

The war starts; we had 24 hours to get away from the anchorage at Taranto and we hauled ass all day and night. We started our first flying day under the "War rules" at 0430 with the launch of 2 of our Vikings. We had 9 events in 20 hours sending out 14 aircrafts total for the day. Not sure what they were doing out there because we were busy getting aircraft cleared off the Hanger bay. They have promised to let us join in on a couple of Alpha Strikes but we have to continue our normal work load of 2x1 sorties. So everything in our inventory has to fly.

This was the start; I was assigned to the Flight Deck from the AT Shop along with two other technicians. We would work together on any aircraft that went to the Flight Deck with the shop responsible for the aircraft staged in the Hanger. This meant that the 10 guys per shift in the shop would take care of maybe only 3 or 4 jets a day while the 3 of us on the flight deck would tackle the rest; we owned 11 aircraft on this deployment. It was an uneven playing field but no one worked the Flight Deck for free, since it was a hazardous place you only went up there if you were going to be paid extra. Flight Deck Hazardous Pay was all of $55.00 before taxes (yeah, they taxed that too) and our shop was only allowed three "skins". The ground rules were the three of us on the Roof would work our own schedule as needed, covering all the launches and recoveries. We would work any gripes on a jet that stayed on the Roof; if it was moved to the Hanger it fell to the shop to fix.

Day 2

38*39'N x 6*45'E At Sea - North of Constantine, Algeria

Another busy day, 11 events and 17 aircraft sorties. We are down to a single Hanger Queen (705 of course) but we are told it should be out for a check flight in the morning. Went to my rack for a change of clothes, did not sleep there, I have been getting short naps in the Gun Tubs.

Our sortie rate and aircraft per event is a big deal within the Air Wing. We generally have a launch event every two hours or so depending on how many total aircraft are in the "event". We do a 2x1 in that the first event of the day is a two aircraft launch, the next is a 1 aircraft event and we cycle like that all day. We send aircraft out on every event because we are used to scout ahead of the Battle Group and to search for the enemy. As soon as a launch cycle is complete we do a recovery. Once on deck we start fixing what is broke and we prep the aircraft for the next event. If it's a two aircraft event we have to scramble to get two aircraft configured for the mission set assigned. ASW aircraft are configured differently than a SSSC mission (Surface Search Surveillance and Classification) versus a Mine-EX aircraft, versus a purely bomber mission.

Day 2

40*41'N x 2*30'E At Sea - South of Barcelona, Spain

Full flight schedule today we maxed out on flights. 11 events and 21 aircraft sorties, every one of our jets flew. We will be mining tomorrow so we are busy helping with the ARMCOS systems. I guess AO's are not issued brains, they do everything by repetition. "Repeat after Me – Hand and Feet CLEAR" - don't have to tell me to get my hands and feet clear of the big heavy exploding thing! No rack time today. Note to self: powdered eggs don't go with fresh hash browns, you really need a good egg yolk to eat with fresh hash browns. Still on water hours.

I have a long and checkered history with the BB stackers. Normally not heavily tasked in our squadron but for exercise such as this one they were quite busy. The chow is always a big deal on the ship, we would only have fresh food for a few days after leaving port (week to 10 days at most) so we all got used to powder eggs. Let me tell you, with a lot of tobacco you can eat a heaping large quantity of them!

Day 3

42*55'N x 6*39'E East Bound Off Toulon, France

We did a huge Mine-EX today, twice we sent a 4-ship out to mine some harbor, I think it was over near Barcelona but where ever it was, it left a ghost town on the ship for S-3's. We had the 4 on the Mine-EX, and 4 others on missions and left us with only three jets twice today. What fun. Still no rack time, we have been sleeping in the wheel wells because of the rain. They can't seem to keep the ship out of the storms; well until it's time to land then they steam out into the sunny skies. But as soon as recovery is done we go back into the storm. Sick bastards! Cut my left hand open on a copper bonding strap, took 5 stitches to close. Shots and an order for pain med but I declined the med. They gave me extra gauze pads to use in my gloves in case of bleeding.

You can still see that nasty little that scar on my left palm and as usual, I would not take myself off the flight deck even though the Corpsman were more than happy to give me a light duty chit.

Day 4

41*09'N x 6*32'E Steaming South - West of Sardinia

We are back to a regular flight schedule. 11 events and 17 aircraft sorties. All in the open ocean we were heading east back across the Med. I heard we are winning the war games, have not yet seen "enemy" aircraft. Was back at the rack to put away mail and get fresh socks. Still wearing the same outfit for two days. Since I was in the rain so much yesterday the shirt does not stink so much so I kept it on. We are still on water hours so we won't be getting laundry. Have to stretch out what I have in the way of green shirts and pants. Sea Rats or PB+J on toast for dinner, I did the PB+J.

Fresh water was a major problem on the Indy during this cruise. She had trouble brewing fresh water so whatever she made went to operations first, what little was left allowed for showers only two hours a day. Once at 1800 hours and again at 0600 and if you were not lined up you were SOL for getting a shower. We actually had "Shower Police" whose job it was to time and make sure everyone took genuine "Navy Showers". The lack of water also meant that we had rather bad chow since it took a lot of water to make meals especially since most of the menu included a lot of dehydrated foods. Laundry was done by division and you could expect fresh cloths only once a month unless we pulled into port. Then you simply took your laundry to the nearest NATO base and washed it yourself.

Day 5

39*09'N x 11*46'E At Sea - South East of Sardinia

11 events 18 aircraft sorties. One of our jets was caught out by the Blue forces and "shot down". They were scouting around the area where we were yesterday when they were caught. The ship pointed south and took off. We got our jet back after it did penalty time in Naples. Still no rack time, I only came to the rack to journal this. My left hand is throbbing. Back to work.

The rule in this exercise was that aircraft that were "shot down" were required to go to some neutral airfield and land before they returned to their home ship. As I recall this aircraft was actually sacrificed to fool the Blue force into looking for our Battle Group in the wrong area. It worked as we were able to get below them and then reset the space we were fighting since the Blue was supposed to cover south of Sardinia and Italy while the Orange force was supposed to cover the western Med. Getting south of the Blue force allowed us to make attacks directly on their fleet, from a direction they were not expecting.

Day 6

34*45'N x 13*30'E At Sea - North of Tripoli, Libya

We are having problems now keeping enough aircraft out, the proximity to Libyan airspace means we have to keep our eyes on what is going on with their air force. They don't come out to international waters but both fighter squadrons, the E-2's and at least one Viking have to stand off and watch all the while we are still fighting the Blue force. More rain, it is very warm out so the rain feels good. I actually washed and dried a couple of tee shirts in all the rain. Almost beats laundry service. 11 events, 26 aircraft sorties.

Yeah our friend Muammar Gaddafi was throwing stuff at us while we steamed just north of the "Line of Death" as he called it. The two fighter squadrons made several air-to-air intercepts of MIG aircraft thrown at us but they never went hot or came over the ship.

Day 7

34*50'N x 17*30'E Standing off - North East of Tripoli and North West of Benghazi, Libya

We have been living in a stalled front of two day, all rain. My fingers have wrinkles they have been wet so long, gloves are soaked. I have changed socks 8 times today, before almost every launch cycle I was changing socks. We/I lost an ESM POD over the side, wind got it from me and it went OB. Sponson 8 looks like a laundry with all the cloths hanging out there drying. Still no rack time, had to change my pants though, I had that pair on for 4 straight days and I may have to toss them they are so worn. No COD service today, we are trying not to show our hand to the Blue forces by giving them the chance to follow that old slow plane back to Indy. 11 events, 22 aircraft sorties.

The easiest way to hide an aircraft carrier is to steam it into a rain storm. As I remember we hung out in this storm with our screening ships pulled close, they wanted to get as much of the Battle Group inside the storm. It must have worked because we stayed in there two nights and three full days. Losing the ESM receiver was a big deal; they were still classified back then so there was a lot of paper work. It was lost partially because we were replacing it in the wind and rain at Oh-Dark-Thirty, it was a case of dropping it or both me and the POD falling off the wing. I can remember watching it cartwheel down the flight deck and right off the fantail, antenna's flopping around on their little coax cables. We were sure it sank but they had a tin can look for it just in case. The Sponson referred to was one of those little work platforms scattered around the boat and are open to the fresh air, some of them like #8 are under cover of the flight deck. This one was used for trash disposal.

Day 8

33*55'N x 19*11'E Standing off - North of Benghazi, Libya

I was asked to go to a briefing in the Ready Room, they want to do a lot of Data Link but I fell asleep in the chair. I was asked to stand for the rest of the Brief. I apologized to the Div-O and told him I had not been to my rack for sleep since the start of the EX because of the lack of flight deck skins. That was too much for him because I guess after I left he started to draw up "Manning" charts so that we could get us some sleep, but you can't put an AE up there to work RADAR or give them Data Link to fix. They should have stripped all the spare skins before we stared the EX. Phil 'treated' us to dinner; he made a point of getting me, Lipps and Wall together for dinner. Told me about the fiasco with the Div-O and the charts he had made and that we would be doing a corrosion stand down when the EX was done. We would be exempt. He thinks only another day or two and we will win the war and stand down.

The three of us were now taking turns sleeping, usually in an aircraft that was on the schedule or down in one of the Gun Tubs. The Gun Tubs were old Anti-Aircraft batteries that were mounted around the flight deck but the guns had been removed leaving a huge space for us to hang out in. Since it was on the catwalk level you were right there on the flight deck but out of the action. Each gun tub could sleep a dozen sailors! The issue with the Flight Deck skins was a big deal. There were shops that had more than they needed and simply cycled them from person to person whether they went up to the deck or not to simply use the money. This always burned us because we had so much work but only three skins. If we had even one more skin we could have worked 12 on 12 off. But the shops sat on their skins and when ever questions were asked you would see someone who you knew did not belong up on the roof in a bright clean jersey and float coat because they were used so infrequently. They would only make an appearance up there to keep the skin. $55 bucks was a big deal back in 1977!

Day 9

35*46'E x 21*45'E Steaming South of Greece Mainland

Huge day today, large Alpha Strike they took 6 of our jets. At the same time we had three out on missions which left us with only two on the whole boat. COD came back and had almost 800 pounds of mail most of that was parts or other supply stuff, why bother. More BP+J but for dinner I had a couple of cans of the mystery meat hash in the sea rats. The biscuits in the can are pretty good especially since the boat still has real butter. Got yelled at for sleeping in a copilot seat, some Bos'n pounded on the canopy and wanted me to come out, there were 4-others in there with me so he gave up when we all piled out, like clown car only in an airplane.

Alpha strikes were great fun for the AO's, not so much for the rest of us. The S-3 has the two wing station but the two bomb bay's gave us more capacity than one realized, we could carry up to 18 MK-82 500 pounders. We were slower than the other attack aircraft but no one could hear us coming! The Sea Rations was kind of a funny thing; they would break them out if they could not cook. You would get your tray and then go down the serving line getting little cans of this or packets of that plus those little can openers. I remember fruit cocktail being a favorite and this corn beef hash that was pretty good too.

Day 10

36*14'E x 22*59'E At Anchor - Kithira, Greece

In the dead of night she came to me, to us all actually. A voice, a sweet voice of a woman, the voice of an American woman. At first I thought it was only me, but everyone around me was reacting to that voice. We were all left to fill in the image that went with that voice as she talked us through the pre-start check list. Oh what a voice. It perked us all up for the final events of this EX. We quit flying at 1200 and put into an anchorage. There will be a steel beach and swim call. I will shower and sleep. I'll eat tomorrow too tired for food.

Oh Yes the voice. We do this verbal pre-start check list prior to every launch cycle; the Air Boss reads it off a card. It's the flight deck mantra, I can recite it even today and I have not been an active member of a launch crew since 1979! But this one time, after we had all been working for so long and so hard someone played a tape of this woman reading off that check list. I am sure it was some one's wife or girl friend but it did not matter, it was wonderful to hear that check list read off in a sultry way.

Day 11

36*14'E x 22*59'E At Anchor - Kithira, Greece

I got out of bed only once in the last 18 hours to hit the head. I even slept through laundry delivery, the cloths were piled on top of me, I never heard them. Phil came by to check muster, make sure I was alive. I got up then and decided to find some chow. There were burnt sliders and tube steaks on the port side forward but fresh eggs to starboard. I had them, many actually with fresh goat milk. They must feed these goats clover or something because the milk was quite good, much better than what we got in Italy. It was very quiet on the mess decks, Lips and Wall were in a card game (naturally) but they both confirmed they had plenty of sleep. My hand is infected and the leaking puss smells bad, so I'll have to go down to medical and let them clean it out, more stitches. Rumor is we are going to do another exercise before we pull into Naples, ASW Week they are calling it. Great more crap for us.

The ship would buy fresh food where ever we went; local cuisine was always a crap shoot. We would get fresh veggies with little bugs in it or milk that was rather "unusual" so to say. Eggs were another bingo item, sometime great sometimes, yuk! A bunch of times we had rabbit and a few times it was goat. The soda (Coke mainly) was very different than what we were used to having, it was very sweet. We did leave Kithira and go right into another week long exercise that was dubbed ASW week. It would only be 6 days at work but it re-shaped my thinking on the S-3 and all its wondrous equipments for finding submarines. Up till then I had misgivings about packing all that state of the art gear into such a small plane and it working, but ASW Week 1977 would change all that. But that is a different story.

For the Record:

"Lips" is AT3 Mike Lickens from Dallas, Texas

"Wall" is AX3 George Stanley Wall from Republic, Ohio

"Phil" is AX1 Phillp Turner from some where in Idaho. One of the best supervisors you could ever want covering you and someone I learned so much from especially the people watching, his speciality.

BT: Jimmy T sends.

Wrangling for Budget

Here is an interesting article regarding a new study group within the Pentagon that is chartered with "combining the capabilities of the US Air Force and the Navy" in an effort to "offset their vulnerabilities and better use their assets to deter or defeat future enemies.

Hmmm, me thinks there is something foul afoot! Now I hate to be pessimistic about something with such a noble goal, you know that whole make things better, touch feely study and PR first. When you have to sell the concept with flowery words pulled out of the PR Department one has to pause and remove the rose tinted glasses. To be sure when someone says this is a "win-win" I get really curious about ones motives.

Besides the cultural differences between the two branches what of the institutional attention paid to a given capability or service? I am speaking of something low key but vital that is de-emphasized because of institutional malaise. I'll give you an example, CAS. Close Air Support is something vital to the Army and Marines. Ask any Infantryman hunkered down in a fire fight and what do they want? They want aircraft that can drop steel on the enemy. Today, only the Marines have fully integrated CAS, the Army has to rely on the Air Force to provide that capability. And dare I say, begrudgingly? You see, the Air Force many years ago tried to retire the best CAS aircraft ever built, the A-10 Warthog. Why, because it was not a flashy fighter aircraft? Who knows, the effort was there to strip that capability out of service in favor of using F-15E's and F-16's instead of something purpose built for the role. It speaks to the institution.

I understand that there is some overlap between the services, and that there could be 'vulnerability' because of gaps in capabilities but to want to "combine the capabilities" I think is frightening.

There are other examples and the Navy is guilty of the same issue. I come out of an ASW background, carrier based ASW is vital to a Battle Group out beyond the littorals, yet the Navy got rid of the purpose built aircraft for that mission and now relies on land based aircraft to "scout" ahead of the Battle Group. A mistake I believe but this too speaks to the institution.

They do list one example of something they hope to address; I laughed at it and it got me to thinking that there is more here than you see on the surface. The example they use, from a "veteran analyst" by the way, maritime surveillance. The use of Navy P-3 aircraft over Afghanistan has left the U.S. vulnerable to submarines, since the traditional role of the P-3 is ASW. The "veteran analyst" theorizes that a package could be developed and installed on B-52 Bombers which can then be used to patrol for submarines. Now, I laughed at this because the problem is the lack of ISR assets over Afghanistan and the "veteran analyst" fix is to use USAF B-52's in an ASW mission? What a joke. Yeah, fix the symptom, not the problem. Why not get more dedicated airborne ISR assets overhead in the AF and those P-3's can go back to doing ocean work and the B-52's can find another job, maybe dropping bombs!!

I wonder if the whole reason for this study is to justify the flying platforms on hand and shoe horn them into roles they are not suited. It will be interesting to see where they go and what comes of this but I think it's more of a grab for the budget that is shrinking and not a concern for the projection and protection of the country.

BT: Jimmy T sends.

The Last Starfighter

"Rig the Barricade, Rig the Barricade!" boomed the Boss over the 5-MC. We were all ready for it, waiting in place along the starboard foul line and behind the Island. We were briefed by the AG-O (Arresting Gear Officer) who stood on a tractor to tell us how he wanted this to go, it was more important to get it right than fast. We would have only one try at grabbing this aircraft and it was important that everyone understand that. We did.

The aircraft in distress was an F-4 Phantom from VF-33, the Starfighters as they were called. This one some 20 minutes earlier had been involved in a Ramp Strike. That is to say that it came in too low and struck the back of the ship, ripping off the port main landing gear and a portion of the left wing (the part that folds). We had spent the intervening minutes cleaning up all the FOD and getting two tanker configured KA-6B's into the air. We also landed several aircraft, getting as many down safely as we could.

But the F-4 was a handful and the pilot needed to get the plane on deck or alongside and ditch. Ditching was apparently ruled out or would be tried if the Barricade failed. We were conducting "Blue Water" operations, meaning that there were no Bingo fields or auxiliary land bases to fly to, it was back home to the steel deck or you go into the sea, blue water. And it was late, sometime after midnight and it was raining with very poor visibility, which I am sure helped with causing the accident in the first place and I am sure weighed on those deciding on using the Barricade first over simply ditching the aircraft.

The tractor pulled out a brand new barricade from the below deck locker. Not that almost black color the practice barricade was, all those times it was hauled out across the greasy dirty flight deck. This one was bright white. We followed the tractor on the forward side, waiting to take the top part and stretch it forward. On the aft side Blue Shirts carried the deck plates that would be latched together to form the ramp that the plane would drive up and into the barricade.

In a very deliberate way we moved, taking our time but doing the job correctly. We pulled out the upper side and carried it forward where Green Shirted AG men connected the upper cross brace to the tops of the lowered stanchions. We pulled and slapped the slack out of the barricade all the while additional Green Shirted men tied into the 5^th AG Engine the cross deck pendant. When we were done we retreated and they raised the stanchions.

I stood along the foul line looking at the barricade in the reddish gloom of the flood lights from off the Island. They were turned up to full bright and bathed the Landing Zone in an pall that mixed with the falling rain. The wind was starting to kick up as the ship increased in speed. I turned to retreat to safety when I was pulled to man a fire hose. They wanted two sets of fire teams in place and the one I was 'volunteered' to man would be aft of the Island just beside the Landing Zone, slightly forward of the actual barricade. I would have a front row seat for the landing and if we were lucky the aircraft would go straight into the barricade. If things went south and the jet hammered into the ramp again, there would be debris and fire directly in front of us. We would be the first responders.

"On the Flight Deck, Starfighter is now 3-miles back, make a ready Deck, prepare to land aircraft, clear the foul line, clear the catwalks aft." We knelt down holding the hose low, waiting. It was only now when I felt the coldness from the rain, it was only now that I started to think about what we were doing. When something happens and you react in real-time you operate off training instinct. Now that we were going slow to go fast, I could think this all through.

"One mile out, Starfighter is now 1-mile out." The Boss advised. We braced, it would take an F-4 mere seconds to cover a single mile. I watched aft into the reddish gloom streaked with the rain. The Boat was hustling through the water, making up for the high approach speed of the wounded F-4. I stared into where I thought the Phantom would appear at any second. And there it was.

It burst out of the darkness behind the Boat and settled directly into the sweet part of the flight deck, immediately aft of the barricade. The plane twisted to the left as it settled down onto the left wing, there being no landing gear on that side. The Phantom screeched up and into the barricade ramp throwing out the deck plates, pitching them forward and towards us. One flew by inboard and ahead of us, I looked up as it went by, I could plainly see the number painted on the bottom, marking its place in the ramp line. #13. It flew forward hitting the Island, but I was now focused back on the Phantom, it straightened out once it got into the barricade, the nylon webbing snagging the starboard wing and pulling it back to straight. I watched as the barricade wrapped around the jet and was pulled out of the arresting gear. The barricade is designed to be pulled down the flight deck with the aircraft decelerating and holding the aircraft to the flight deck.

The Phantom and the barricade soon passed out of my view, it had passed into the forward part of the landing zone on the other side of the Island structure where from our angle we could not see what was happening. As I knelt there I could hear the screeching sound of metal on metal and we could see the sparks flying up but it lasted too long. Then there was a small explosion sound, a kind of loud popping sound.

The 5-MC boomed louder than ever "Aircraft in the water Port Side": You could hear the emotion from the Air Boss as he bellowed about a crash on deck. We all stood and left our hose and moved to where we could see beyond the Island. There lying in the Landing Zone was the Barricade. It was ripped to streamers flapping in the wind. The Phantom was gone.

Then from above going aft and outboard was a parachute. Hanging from it was a crewman, he hung there limp as the chute drifted out away from the Boat. I watched as it descended down into the ocean just forward of the LSO platform. I saw several men run to the edge and throw their flashlights into the water to mark the spot. I searched the sky looking for the second crewman but saw none. The Boat soon slowed and turned back towards where the lights in the water were, the helo's were soon circling, their flood lights illuminating the froth of the ocean.

We were all called back to the business at hand. A photographer came out and took pictures of the ruined barricade before it was stripped out of the Gear and hauled away. We then did a couple of sweeps for FOD. We had aircraft circling overhead that would have to land and we needed to clean up the flight deck.

We were all dismayed by what happened, the barricade was supposed to save the jet and the lives of the men within. In this case it had done neither.

We would land most of the aircraft, the lone S-3 remained overhead using its FLIR to hunt for the missing. It found none. We would return the ship to the scene after recovery and wallow in the water hoping to find either of the men in that aircraft. A couple of hours later we would retire and proceed on our original course, the S-3 and later the two Helo's would recover aboard. Flying was suspended for the night. And the next day.

We all got to see the playback of the crash on the ships Plat and flight deck camera recordings. The Phantom had indeed ran into the barricade and it seemed to be perfectly caught, pulling it out a good 100 feet down the flight deck. But all the web strapping gave way and snapped releasing the Phantom. It's speed was reduced to a crawl and as the aircraft reached the end of the landing zone the back seater ejected. It was him that we saw in the chute. The forward seat never left the aircraft and the camera playback showed the big F-4 slip into the darkness where the light from the flight deck ended. The front cockpit was still inhabited. There was no bright flash of the rocket motor from the ejection seat for the Pilot indicating that he either did not try to eject or the seat failed. Either way he rode the Phantom into the water.

This was the third time I had helped rig a barricade on this cruise, the other two times it was to grapple the single engine A-7's. In each of those instances we had saved the aircraft and the single pilot aboard. It was an eye opener, the sure think failing. It was heart breaking. Especially because we were only a couple of weeks from the end of the deployment and these would be two of only three men lost on the entire cruise. A record low causality rate back in the day. It was also the last F-4 Cruise for this squadron, they would exchange their F-4's for brand new F-14's. A bitter end for the Starfighters.

BT: Jimmy T sends.

Navy Tech – Rigging the Barricade

Whenever an aircraft has suffered a causality (a substantial system malfunction or battle damage) that necessitates recovery of the aircraft or when conditions exist that deem the ejection from the aircraft more risky than landing the Jet then we rig the Barricade. The Barricade is a huge kind of a net that is erected in the landing zone, on top of and connected to one of the arresting gear engines that serves to grapple the aircraft by the wings and the slows and stops the aircraft. It is a last resort. We practice installing the Barricade all the time while at sea and it must be pulled out of its stowage locker and connected to the arresting gear engine in 4 minutes or less.

The Barricade is made of nylon straps that are woven together at the top and bottom to form a kind of net. It is unlike a net in that the straps only go vertically, there are no connections laterally except at the very top and very bottom. This allows the aircraft nose and forward fuselage to drive through the straps with the wing actually taking the brunt of the stopping force applied using the arresting gear engine. The Barricade is held up with stations built into the flight deck that are deployed only when the barricade is deployed.

Also as part of setting the Barricade a steel ramp is set up that causes the aircraft to drive up and over the lower portion of the Barricade. This keeps the nose wheel from pushing the strapping up and over the aircraft or from tangling into the nose gear assembly and causing the aircraft to tumble. The ramp is built using steel panels that interlock into each other and lock into the flight deck. The panels are carried from storage and laid in place at the same time the Barricade is being hauled out of storage by tow tractor.

Above. Hauled out of a below deck locker, the Barricade is laid out for connecting into the AG Engine and the stanchion. (USN Photo)

4 minutes seems like plenty of time but a lot happens, the Barricade must be connected to the Arresting Gear engine at the bottom and at the top of the two stanchions, once the stations are raised, they are placed in tension pulling the slack out of the Barricade. It is usually an all hands evolution.

Below. Pulling the Barricade into position, this is the top of the Barricade and you can see how big the combination of the webb strapping is accross the top. Same size at the bottom. (USN Photo)

Below: Up goes the stanchion. The wire at the top is pulled tight with using an air ratchet. (USN Photo)
Below. Good Rig? You can see the area in between the straps, sized to allow the forward fuselage of the aircraft to drive through and the straps to actually "foul" on the wings. (USN Photo)


Below. Time to put the greasy monster back into its hold. (USN Photo)


BT: Jimmy T sends.