Chapter 4

There I was, minding my own business..., actually I was almost sound asleep in my barracks room, very early the next Saturday morning. Almost; because there’s always a little noise in a room with 25 men sleeping in it. We all sensed someone coming in the front door of the barracks, not very quietly; a few could hear the mumbles of a discussion at the duty hut, right next door to our room. We all heard the distinctive sound of our squadron Sergeant Major coming done the hall, and most of us froze when he stopped at our closed door. What in the hell is our Sergeant Major doing in our barracks in the middle of the night?

A little bit about our Sergeant Major. You probably know that a Sergeant Major is the top enlisted rank, and usually the top enlisted person in a unit. Ours was a little unique; he was a combat veteran of the Korean War, and Vietnam; and had a chest-full of medals from those conflicts. Short, barrel-chested and chicken-legged; he had obviously been in some tough situations. His face was weathered and heavily scarred and pock-marked, his nose had been badly broken and never been properly set; it was almost mashed flat, and off-center. The result of his nose job was that he had trouble breathing; you could hear him coming from a 100-yards away, and he had just stopped at our door. He pushed the door opened, stepped into the darkness and growled; “I’m looking for Corporal Donaldson.”

24 men resumed breathing; I wondered what the hell is this? “Here, Sergeant Major,” I said as I sat up and turned on my small personal light.

“Get packed; you’re going on the cruise.”

My Iwakuni deployment is taking a new direction. Our group had two squadrons of the A-6 aircraft my work supported, and a squadron of EA-6Bs, a variation that used the same navigation system that I worked on. That squadron was VMAQ-2, an electronic-warfare unit that was deployed piece-meal everywhere. One of those planes was all that was needed in a flight of aircraft, and I had heard that a couple were being attached to the Navy for some reason; I was about to learn a whole lot more about that.

“What cruise; and where is it going?”

“Get packed, they’re waiting.”

“Sergeant Major, can I get little bit more information? I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said as I got out of bed.

He told me what he knew. I was being attached to the Q-2 detachment that was going aboard the air-craft carrier USS Midway, CV-41. They were going on a 2-3 month cruise to the Indian Ocean to take part in a major international exercise there. They were supposed to have left 2 hours ago; and were now waiting, for me.

“What do I take; everything?”

“No; one seabag should do it. Take all your working uniforms, one dress uniform, one set of nice civilian clothes, and your toiletries. You should take your writing gear, and a couple books if you want, but you need to pack light. Take some underwear and socks, your work boots and dress shoes, and you should probably take some exercise clothes too.”

My bunkmate got up and was trying to help; he held the seabag as I rapidly grabbed things and stuffed it. I quickly got dressed, took a couple hundred dollars from my wall locker stash; gave my bunkmate the key to my wall locker, and followed the Sergeant Major out. We headed to the squadron offices, which should be dark at this time of night; several lights were on, and we met the XO, my OIC and Gunny, and a Major I didn’t know in the squadron admin office. An admin clerk was just finishing up typing my orders; I was handed them, and my record book; and told to go with the Major. Back outside to a waiting van, then a half-mile ride to Q-2’s hanger, where a couple civilian travel buses were waiting. I threw my bag into the storage compartment, got on the bus with the Major, and away we went. The whole thing took maybe 15 minutes, good thing I didn’t need to go to the bathroom. I ended up sitting next to the Major; everyone else seemed to be asleep. The Major then finally gave me the story of why I was on a bus heading toward Tokyo.

The deployment on the Midway had been planned for a while, everyone else had made at least one short trip on the Midway for a week or so, to iron out the specifics for the 2-month cruise. The Major, the squadron maintenance officer; had called the Navy Maintenance office on the ship just before they left; letting him know they were on the way; and should be there in plenty of time to board for the departure. The Major had asked if there was any last-minute thing the Navy needed; the reply was that if the Corps had a spare navigation tech, bring him along. I was that spare.

The Major gave me a few more details as we traveled. The ship was going to stop in the Philippines, Singapore, and Karachi, Pakistan, and possibly others; the stops would all be for less than a week; the rest of the time we’d be at sea. The purpose was an exercise with the Navy’s of that region; primarily the British, Indian, and Australian. He didn’t know exactly why the Navy needed a navigation tech; we’d find out when we got there.

The Corps had supplied us with bag lunches, and there was a restroom on the bus; it was over 500 miles, so we didn’t reach Yokosuka Naval Base and the Midway until mid-afternoon. The Major told me to stick with him when we boarded the ship, I retrieved my seabag and followed him up a secondary gangplank into the ship. We wound around the ship quite a bit, he had to stop and ask for directions a couple times; eventually we ended up in the AIMD offices. AIMD stood for Aircraft Intermediate Maintenance Department, equivalent to my H&MS squadron; the first of the hundreds of things I should have known, and needed to learn immediately. It wasn’t long before we were standing with a Navy Commander, and a Senior Chief Petty Officer.

“We made it,” the Major said; “This is Corporal Donaldson, the navigation tech you said you needed.”

I could tell the Commander had to think about what the Major had just said. “Oh, okay,” he said; then turned to me. What do you know about sins?”

Huh? I thought a moment; “Well I know I’m not supposed to.” That got me a funny look, so I continued; “there’s the seven deadly sins; pride, greed, lust, gluttony...”

“No, no, no,” the Chief interrupted; “SINS; Ship’s Inertial Navigation System, do you know anything about it?”

“No Chief, this is the first time I’ve heard about it. I work on the A-6 inertial navigation system; I also work on the Air Navigation Computer, and the Air Data Computer. Now that I think about it; I guess there would almost have to be a ship’s inertial navigation system.”

The Chief gave a little grimace and shook his head at the Commander. The Commander decided to explain; “The SINS is used to tell the aircraft where they are when they are started up; it’s also linked to the navigation test set to aid in troubleshooting the boxes. We seem to be having trouble with the link between the SINS and the test sets.”

“Sorry sir; I don’t know anything about that.”

“I’m not sure he can help us...” the Commander started to say to the Major.

“Wait a minute,” the Chief spoke up; “you work on the INS system; and the ANC and ADC?”

“Yes Chief; I’m pretty good with all three.”

“We can use him,” the Chief said to the Commander. “He’s already here, and we can make better use of him here, than him being back in the Q-2 squadron.”

The two officers looked at each other and shrugged, then shook hands and the Major left. The Commander took my record book; seems I have a job.

The Chief had me grab my seabag and led me out of the office, down the hallway to another door labeled ‘Navigation Shop’; I followed him inside. I recognized the test benches I worked on; there was a lot of sailors and civilians standing around, looking at them. Another Chief greeted us; the Senior Chief asked the new Chief if any progress had been made and got a negative shake of his head. They talked for a couple seconds; then the Senior Chief introduced me, and said I was a new member of the shop; take care of me and put me to work.

The shop Chief, my new ‘Gunny’, quizzed me about my background; what I worked on, how much experience I had; he seemed to be surprised about me working on all three systems. He noticed my seabag sitting on the floor next to me and asked if I had been assigned a bunk yet. When I replied ‘no’, he turned me over to a First-Class Petty Officer; and told him to take care of me, get me squared way. The PO1 was in charge of all of the navigation techs, he would be my immediate boss. Another 20-minute discussion with him about my qualifications and experience; my working on all three systems seemed to be a very good thing; my total lack of experience of being on a ship just a bad thing. I told him I knew bow and stern, port and starboard, and I knew what the flight deck was; that was it. He kind of sighed, then led me out of the shop to find the Quartermaster. “Leave your seabag here,” he said; “this might take a while. Let me tell you about the ship.” This began my education about the Navy and shipboard living.

He pointed out a few of the various things I needed to know as we walked along; said we’d be pulling away from the dock in an hour or so; and answered the few questions I knew enough to ask. The Quartermaster was the guy who would assign me living quarters and a bunk; that turned out to be a problem. He turned us over to a PO2, who explained that while the ship wasn’t full; many of the berthing compartments were still being reworked and were closed. He took down my name and where I was going to be working; he told us the avionics’ berthing compartment was full, but he’d find somewhere else for me to sleep; he told the PO1 that he would call the shop when he found me a rack.

We left that office, and the PO1 started to give me a tour of the ship. He was surprised I didn’t have my medical, dental, or pay record with me; that might be a problem, he’d have to check that out. He took me first to the mess deck and demonstrated how that worked, then told me that it was open most of the day. The meal we had was very good; the PO told me not to take my time there, eat and go; there were about 4500 men on the ship, and seating for only about 400 at a time. He then took me up to the flight deck; he told me he was going to treat me like I didn’t know anything and not to be insulted; I told him I didn’t know much, but I’d keep my mouth shut for now and just listen.

The ship was huge, about 1000 feet long and 130 feet wide at the waterline; the angled flight deck was 230 feet wide; about 4 acres of surface area, and 50-60 feet above the water. 2 aircraft elevators fore and aft of the island, and a third one on the port side near the stern; he told me we could carry 70 aircraft, at the moment 50 were aboard, securely tied down; 20 more would be flying on in a few days. At the moment about 30 were topside; the rest were below in the hanger deck, our next destination. He pointed out the 2 steam catapults at the bow, and all the safety nets that ringed the flight deck; I was told that the flight deck and island was pretty much off-limits while operations were ongoing; though it would be opened up occasionally for exercising, and getting some sun when flight operations permitted. We watched the final loading pier-side; the gangplanks pulled in and lines cast off; then the faint vibration I’d felt since boarding increased as several tugboats appeared, and started maneuvering us away from the dock.

The Petty Officer told me we were rushing to get out to sea; there was a typhoon churning in the Pacific, and we needed to avoid it. We headed back to the Quartermasters office to see if a rack had been found for me; not yet, we were told; it was easy to see that it was on page 3 or 4 of the things he was trying to get done today.

Then the hanger deck; it was less than half the size of the flight deck, and about halfway to the waterline. Almost 100 feet by 700; this was where the aircraft were repaired, and a lot of the routine maintenance done. There were also 4 ship’s tenders in cradles, they would be used to ferry crewmembers back and forth to land when we were moored in a harbor, and not tied up to a pier or dock. I also spotted two commercial cabin cruisers in cradles, one about 30 feet long and the other 35; I was told they were the Admiral’s and Captain’s launches, guess which was which. Very nicely outfitted; they were pretty much the only things not painted navy grey.

At one end of the hangerdeck there was a small exercise area roped off, with a couple weight machines and other equipment; no free weights, which made sense. “Use that area anytime you want,” the PO1 said; “but aways have a spotter.” It was in the middle of that end of the hangerdeck; and there seemed be a 5-foot-wide pathway down the center of the deck, defined with painted lines on the floor. “That’s our running track,” the PO1 added; “except when aircraft are being moved around down here; that area is supposed to be kept clear, and runners have the right of way. It’s not much, but it’s what we have. Occasionally the flight deck will be opened up for exercise, but it’s tricky up there; running into and then with the wind, and the ship’s movement is more noticeable; easy to lose your feet.”

He showed me the Sick Bay, where I could get medical attention if necessary; he asked if I got sea-sick and I admitted I had as a child. There was a small shelf mounted near the door with a basket on it; at the moment it was full of small packages of motion-sickness pills, he had me grab a couple. He smiled and told me that when we were in a foreign port, the basket was filled with individual condoms in their wrappers. “Only in one size, large”; he grinned at me; “if I needed one, he hoped I could fill it.” Navy humor; it wasn’t the last directed at me. He pointed out Dental when we went by; and a small store where I could buy toiletries, other miscellaneous essentials, and snacks.

Back to the shop; it ended up being two floors above the hanger deck, halfway down the port side; if I got lost, when I got lost; find the hanger deck and go from there. There were steep stairwells every 100 feet or so, known as ladders; the decks were about 10 feet apart with all the cables, pipes, and ductwork hanging from the ceilings. There were valves and switches everywhere; ‘don’t mess with them’, all the doors and hatches were labeled. The structural frames were numbered, but you had to know how they were numbered to make sense of them; maybe I’d learn that on my next cruise.

In the shop I was surprised to see the civilians still aboard. The Petty Officer told me the problem was getting critical; the civilians were avionics engineers from the ship, aircraft, and test bench manufacturers; they had books spread out all over and were looking stumped. The problem had started recently, and no one seemed to be able to figure it out. All the test bench’s self-tests ran perfectly; the thinking was that it was a cabling problem; but all that checked out also. The problem centered on the universal encoder test bench, which worked with the master test computer and all the other test benches. The civilians weren’t leaving until the problem was fixed.

I got introduced to the other sailors in my shop, they seemed nice enough; the Chief told them not to mess with me, if I needed to know something, just tell me. I was told we worked 12 hours on and 12 hours off, 7 am to 7 pm, 7 days a week; except when we were in port. Night-time flight operations were reduced and work up top ebbed and flowed; our hours and work load were pretty much constant. I could tell when we hit the ocean; up ‘til then it was smooth sailing, I could barely tell we were moving; the next minute we were all swaying, and a couple books on the shelves toppled. “The next couple of days are going to be bad ones,” the Chief announced. “Did the Petty Officer have you get a couple of the motion-sickness pills?” he asked me. When I nodded, he told me to take one now, and keep the other in my pocket; it could sneak up on you. If I made a mess, I’d have to clean it up; then I was shown to the closest toilet.

That turned out to be a couple hundred feet forward of the shop, in one of the dozens of crew’s quarters scattered throughout the ship. I was told the Admiral and Captain of the ship had their own cabins, all other officers were paired up in small rooms, the chiefs had their own shared quarters. Petty officers and below were bunked in larger rooms, wherever non-essential space could be found. The head (bathroom) was industrial grade; all the sinks, toilets, and mirrors made of stainless steel, the mirrors highly polished; fluorescent light fixtures and exposed pipes everywhere; the showers were individual but tiny, with plastic shower curtains. Serviceable I was sure, but the hospital head in Iwakuni was a lot more comfortable looking. I was told that these particular quarters were where most of my shop-mates lived.

The small sleeping racks were stacked three high, the bottom one just off the floor, and the racks looked a little different from bunkbeds. It looked like 60 or more sailors slept here; the room had lots of tall, skinny metal wall-lockers scattered around. I noticed the floors everywhere were commercial grade linoleum; the hanger bay and flight deck the only exception. A few upholstered couches and chairs, but not many; the room was a little less industrial grade than the head, but not much. No windows, I noticed; even though I was sure we were well above the waterline. I also noted a large TV strapped to a heavy-duty shelf, in the corner of the room.

By 2200 we still hadn’t heard from the Quartermaster’s office about a place for me to sleep, the Chief called and was told they were still working on it. He snorted and bitched a bit, then hung up and looked at me for a second. “Grab your seabag and come with me.” Aft a little bit and down two decks below the hanger deck, he took me to a door prominently labeled ‘Chiefs Quarters’. “This is where I sleep, and I know there is an empty rack here; you’ll sleep here tonight. The other chiefs won’t be happy about a Marine Corps Corporal being in here, but I’ll explain it to them. Just mind your own business and keep quiet; and don’t unpack much.”

The Chief’s Quarters seemed to sleep 20 and were a little better than the crew’s; not as cramped and had regular steel bunk beds bolted to the floor. More individual storage, a small refrigerator and several of the same couches and chairs, and a TV; the TV was currently showing a view of the bow from the island. Closed-circuit tv, I was told; national and ship’s news was shown 4 times a day, and an older movie was shown twice each day; occasionally taped sports were shown, whatever was in season. Most of the time it was used as a bulletin board, actually manually rotating from notice to notice. The chief told me every hour it showed our current position in the ocean, with the past and projected course shown.