John E. Carey
Peace and Freedom
February 24, 2007
In the Vietnam era, the U.S. Military services had many tremendous cultural and social challenges, not the least of which were racism and drug abuse.
I was assigned to an aircraft carrier to the “Black Gang,” the engineering department.
This was not some pristine hospital-like nuclear powered ship, but a gas guzzling, sometimes smoky hog. 85,000 tons of roaring steel: and half the crew was stoned.
On the flight deck the airwing included F-4 Phantoms, F-8 Crusaders and A-5 Vigilantes!
Now I feel old!
While I was aboard the carrier there was a cross burning.
What we might call “social unrest” today was rife. It was difficult, let us say, to get the mission accomplished.
LOTS of training, socialization, massive cultural new-direction and something called urinalysis cured many of our long-term post-Vietnam problems.
Living aboard was unbearably hot because her air conditioning was in such deplorable shape. One of the intakes from the sea used to suck in sea water for distillation into fresh (dinking water) was just aft of a tear in a fuel tank. Consequently, the coffee was darned near flammable (and toxic: it gave me the runs).
After six months of “Propulsion Boilers Officer School” I reported aboard: a bright and shiny (read naïve virgin) 23 year old Lieutenant (Junior Grade).
I couldn’t even spell “tough,” “difficult,” or “challenging.” I was a Catholic book worm from Notre Dame. The job called for Dick Butkus on acid. Or massive amnounts of steroids.
I went aboard the ship and was immediately lost and overwhelmed. I had to ask directions several times, like an orphan who lost its way at Disney Land. But there is no police force and no sympathy for the weak in THIS at sea environment.
I found the “Engineering Logroom,” knocked on the door (they didn’t knock here I found out later) and entered wearing my best smile.
There, sprawled on the deck, was a very large Lieutenant Commander engaged in Mortal Combat with an equally large Warrant Officer.
I weighed 150 pounds. Soaking wet. In the next three years I would LOSE wight!
YIKES.
This was not “regulation.”
A Yeoman with a shaggy beard named Percy directed me to the Chief Engineer’s cabin where I found a grouchy, reticent Captain, United States Navy. He said, “I don’t need a propulsion officer. Get down to A-Division.”
I assumed I was dismissed.
I went back into the passageway and again started to ask for directions like a nine year old. This time I was looking for some beast called “A-Division.”
A-Division meant I owned the air conditioning, water, oxygen, the laundry, dry cleaning, oven and galley equioment, ice machines (over one hundred innoperable) and every thing else made by machinery outside the propulsion plant. I owned the equipment that made the oxygen the pilots breathed all the way to the rudders.This task was obviously immense.
I was the “Auxiliaries Officer.” I had to “Get My Monster On.” Quickly.
A few years later a new Chief Engineer and a new Commanding Officer both agreed in writing: “Lieutentant Carey is widely known as the best Auxiliaries Officer in the Aircraft Carrier Navy.”
I have thousands of great memories and moments from this “tour of duty” but the best one is this: Knifed in a Cocaine Bust. Concussion. Medevaced from a ship at sea to Naval Hospital San Diego. But, in a few days, the orthopedic surgeon from the San Diego Chargers arrived to tell me: I’ve seen worse than YOUR shoulder. He is so confident of full “repair and recover” (”Repair” like I am a transmission!) that I was cheering up by the moment.
The my X.O. from the aircraft carrier arrived. Stud muffin. Lean and mean. War “Ace.” F-4 Pilot. Trophy wife in tow (she is a blond bombshell in a 1977 mini and looked 19! He drove a RED VET!)
He tells the ENTIRE NURSING STAFF CAREY IS A BIG HERO and he pins one of his Purple Hearts to my pillow.
I had so much hot nurse action the orthopod had to urge restraint by telling me to “mind the shoulder, Lieutenant! They will still be here once you are healed!”
The Navy was terrific. Still is, they tell me. If you do it right.
