(Cartoon by M.E. Baslin, drawn and published in 1979 onboard the USS Midway (CV-41). The image accompanied a continuing series of stories about a hard-living and equally hard-knuckled detective named Nick Danger and his lovely assistant Matilda. As far as we know, it is the only detective story transmitted by official Navy message at the time).

Morning, Gentle Readers! Something extraordinary is in progress this morning involving a dozen of the Old Salts and some tales of days under distant skies. We will run one of the stories this morning, since it belongs to us, but it is only part of how life was lived under distant skies atop moving waves. News this morning? The Intel Community geeks here in town made a formal leak to their usual legacy sources. “Something Bad might happen!” That was the entire body of the alert, and provided no indication of what, where or when, except “something” and “soon.”

That has nothing to do with the total eclipse scheduled for tomorrow, so we will defer this morning to a fairy tale, or what the Salts call a “Sea Story.” The longer version of what it was like to be inducted, trained and deployed with the war in Vietnam in progress is a fun romp we are still coordinating. So here is this part of it. There will be more to come!

The image published at the top of this edition first appeared in the daily edition of the Midway MultiPlex, the daily press summary captured in the Carrier Intelligence Center (CVIC) on USS Midway (CV-41) in 1979. It was an epic period that delivered all the adventure I had hoped for when I signed on. This string of stories featured some memorable moments in the initial specialty training phase at the Armed Forces Air Intelligence Center (AFAITC) at Lowry Air Force Base just outside Denver, Colorado.

The stories told were distant but excitingly familiar, having followed the equally remarkable accession phase of Navy life administered (in my case) by SSGT Ronald C. Mace, USMC. He almost succeeded in getting rid of me, but it seemed more logical to simply shut up, stand tall, and become whatever it was he desired. It seemed less painful.

Memories of AFAITC? They are better covered by others, but the class to which I was assigned was in the six-month segment of 1978 that had snow, skeptical Air Force personnel and attractive local ladies. At the end of it came the mysterious process of initial operational orders. Most of the jobs were in Aviation squadrons, the majority of which were assigned to the dozen (or so) operational carriers in The Fleet. One of the instructors- it might have been Geno Spatafore- whispered that the Midway air wing (CVW-5) had an upcoming vacancy in a Fighter Squadron (VF-151) that could use an Ensign of my somewhat elliptical talents. I nodded, since “adventure” was a component of “employment” I found useful. No intent on a career, just the urge to see something interesting in our spinning globe.

I recall some of the confusion that attended closing out the little apartment, getting packed, and making arrangements for transportation to Yokosuka, Japan. The orders were on paper and handed out at the schoolhouse. I had never had orders to an operational unit, so I read them carefully. There was a provision for a “two week leave” period contained in the other gibberish, so in order to accomplish one of my long term objectives, I decided to depart Colorado for Japan post-haste and take my leave out there.

There was a petty officer at a desk in the middle of someone else’s night when passage across the Pacific was complete. I explained to him that I was taking my leave upon arrival and would check back when complete.

You are already aware of the number of erroneous factors that went into my solitary decision making. The squadron was not onboard NAS Atsugi. They were embarked in Midway, operating in the local area, and naturally expected me to appear. I should say “appear immediately.”

I enjoyed the ten or fourteen days knocking around a distant nation, and fell in with some members of the Chief’s mess from some military amalgamation in the local area. An introduction to risky business! On one muggy morning, I found myself seated backward on a little turbo-prop aircraft and starting on what would turn out to be the adventure of a lifetime.

Flying aboard a moving ship is a remarkable experience we all share. Better-informed Ensigns would probably not be facing immediate non-judicial punishment for being Absent Without Leave (AWOL) upon successful recovery. The Squadron Executive Officer was seated down front in a place known as “Ready Two,” and I was ushered to a position in front of him with the squadron arrayed for an All-Officer’s Meeting.

I thought my arrival was in accordance with the written orders, and simply a matter of misunderstanding. The VF-151 management was of a contrary opinion, and while I might have an argument in my favor, squadron consensus was that it would be much more fun to roast the newly-arrived AI with the prospect of time at Leavenworth. I do not recall who I was supposed to be relieving. He had shrugged and departed a week or two earlier. It was the least comprehensive but most accurate turn-over in all the ones I saw in the next couple decades.”

So, that was how that began. The carrier was off to something- maybe Team Spirit in Korea- and we were off to an adventure that featured a couple stops in Hong Kong (Vietnamese Boat People looking up from their rickety craft), 8 brief trips to Subic Bay, Perth Australia in another part of Davy Jone’s locker, Mombasa, Kenya, Pattaya Beach, Thailand and an anonymous point in the North Arabian Sea Dean Whetstine and I named “GONZO Station.”

The name stuck. It was completely in accordance with the other assorted lunacies that include quality time in the Barrio Baretta, the Night Train to Nairobi, Kenya, and the shimmer of Kilamanjaro’s snow-clad flanks in the distance to the south of the tracks. Seoul, Korea, was in the mix, and the temples and trains around Tokyo.

But there was a problem. In order to complete my obligated service, I had a total of four years to serve. Between Pensacola, AFAITC and VF-151, only three years were completed, leaving me with twelve more months before I could honorably get back out on the street as a civilian. That is why most first-tour assignments were three years in duration, not two.

A distinguished young officer named Jake Jacoby was handling the JO assignments. I called him up from my evening to his morning looking for options. He had one, he said jovially. “One year at Yongsan Garrison in Seoul with CNF-K and you are all set and even with your YG-77 comrades.” I wondered what a J2 Indications (INDIC) Officer might be, and over the next 14-month one year tour, I found out.

There came an offer to proceed from the Land of the Morning Calm to the sun-drenched shores of Hawaii for another three years of adventure, which turned into five with a wife and two great kids. And a somewhat longer adventure that turned out to be exactly what the Doctor ordered!

– Vic