Here I am, on the flight deck with the Rock of Gibralter behind me.

I was on the starboard side flight deck behind the island structure on a sunny day onboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The TR, a Nimitz class carrier, had been recently commissioned and was undergoing sea trials, getting ready for the first aircraft to come aboard to certify her flight deck. I was a young Aviation Electronics Technician second class (AT2) flight deck troubleshooter in Carrier Airborne Early Warning Squadron 123 (VAW-123), the “World Famous Screwtops.”

One of our E2-C Hawkeye aircraft was in the pattern above the ship and I could hear the distinctive hum of the propeller driven aircraft as it flew overhead. The Air Boss had passed the word on the 5MC: “Clear the deck, Prepare to recover Aircraft.” He repeated the checklist for us to get into the proper flight deck uniform – a checklist I had heard a hundred times before.

I cinched the chinstrap of my flight deck helmet and adjusted my goggles, rolled both sleeves of my jersey down, gave my float coat a once over and checked my tool pouch one more time. All tools were accounted for and no FOD. The squadron flight deck chief raised his hands to get the recovery crew’s attention; it was show time. Screwtop 601 was about to land. We assembled forward of the island and watched as 601 caught an the three wire and rolled to a stop.

The yellow shirt gave the signal to raise the tailhook and the aircraft was taxied out of the landing area towards Catapult 1 to be launched. I took my position outboard of the port engine as prop guard and we established the safety chain around the aircraft.

The Hawkeye is a very dangerous plane to be around; the whirling propellers are almost invisible except for the red and white stripes at the blade tips. Those are almost hypnotic if you stare at them too long. The flight deck troubleshooters and plane captains form a human safety chain around the plane to keep unwary personnel from getting too close to the blades.

We walked along side as the bird taxied into position for the Cat 1 shuttle. The chief signals to the pilot asking if the bird is okay and the pilot replies with two thumbs up. The Cat crew hooks it up, the final checkers give the aircraft a thorough look over and give the okay signal. The engine increases in pitch as power is applied, a salute: a salute, a signal and – Whoosh – the 601 goes airborne again for another pass. I quick high five with my squadron mates and we get ready to do it again. The TR received her certification and within the next couple of weeks the cycle was repeated many times as aircraft from CVW-1 exercised the deck.

During my 21 years of service I did two tours of duty with VAW-123. While in the Screwtops I advanced from third class Petty Officer to Chief. I went to sea on the USS America, USS Theodore Roosevelt and USS George Washington. For three Med cruises and numerous underway periods I worked the flight decks of these ships. Later in my career I would serve as the Avionics Armament Leading Chief for the AIMD department IM3 Division on the USS George Washington. The thrill of the flight deck, going to sea and visiting distant ports was a great experience for me. I absolutely loved it.

It’s been almost four years since I retired from active duty. Now I’m a proud member of the CSC family and I still serve our sailors and marines as they train to be the war fighters of today and tomorrow.

Wallace Williams
ATCS (AW) (Ret) US Navy
Task Manager
Training Support Center, Hampton Roads

My six years of Navy life began in 1967. After a year of shore duty at Pearl Harbor, I volunteered for the Navy nuclear power program and submarine training. After a year of electronic schools in San Diego and San Francisco, six months of basic nuclear power school at Mare Island, there was a gap of several months before nuclear prototype school began in Idaho. During this time, I was temporarily assigned to the aircraft carrier USS Ranger which was in the yards at Hunters Point in San Francisco.

After a couple of weeks on the Ranger, two other electronic technicians and I were summoned to the meet with the officer in charge of our group on the Ranger and were notified that we had been ‘volunteered’ to go on temporary assignment to the USS Hornet, an aircraft carrier which just pulled into Long Beach after a Vietnam deployment. In the month of June, 1969 we were flown to Long Beach and reported aboard the Hornet which soon departed for Pearl Harbor. We spent several days in Hawaii loading civilian reporters, television satellite and NASA equipment. After departing for some place in the south Pacific, one of the volunteers from the Ranger and I were summoned to the electronic officer’s quarters where we were told that we had been ‘volunteered’ to report to two civilians in a satellite communications hut on the Hornet flight deck. The civilians were engineers from the Naval Electronics Laboratory Center in San Diego. The engineers had built a satellite communication center used for the Apollo recoveries that provided communication between the recovery vessel, Hawaii and Houston. My shipmate and I were trained by the engineers to man the communication center at night while they slept. On July 24, 1969, Apollo 11 made splashdown. Since President Nixon was flown to the Hornet for the recovery, all non-flight related personnel had to remain below decks for the recovery but the civilian engineers requested that my shipmate and I be on the flight deck to assist them in the communication hut. We were one of the few on board the Hornet that were able to witness the recovery of the astronauts and space capsule from the vantage of the Hornet flight deck.

After completing nuclear prototype school in Idaho, I reported to a new construction submarine at Mare Island, the USS Hawkbill. After sea trials we reported to our home base in San Diego where we were one of the first submarines to perform initial testing with the Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle (DSRV) off of San Diego. I spent the remaining two years of my enlistment on the Hawkbill.

I don’t know of any other opportunities that a young man or woman could have to serve our country, gain a technical education, a chance to witness and be a part of history, have the responsibilities of running and maintaining complex equipment both on the sea and below the sea, all by the age of 24. This has always been a meaningful part of my life.

I served on board the USS Forrestal, as ship’s company from Feb. 1972 to Feb. 1974. I was the Communications Department Head responsible for the all facets of ship’s and Task Force’s communications on the Atlantic and Mediterranean deployments. Being a land-based aviator, this shipboard experience was like nothing I had experienced before, or since, in my 30 years in the Navy.

The Forrestal was essentially a floating city of 5,000 people, with all the problems of most cities. It had an 85 plane airport, which often operated 24 hours a day. When I walked up for the first time and viewed the massive steel structure, some 13-plus stories above the water, I was in awe — and after spending two years on the ship, I was just as much in awe.

This can be best described by an experience I had as host to a group of industry executives who visited the ship for five days as guest of the Secretary of the Navy. I had the privilege of being their tour guide. We kept them on a schedule much like most of ship’s company, an 18-plus-hour day. I had been on the ship for almost two years and thought I had been in every nook and cranny of the ship — not so. I took this group from the engine rooms far below decks, to the top of the signal bridge and everywhere fore and aft. I took them to the forecastle to observe the raising and lowering of the 60,000-pound anchor with 1,000 feet of anchor chain, each link over 350 pounds. I took them to watch aircraft take off only seconds apart into the dark night and likewise coming in from the dark at 165 knots, being stopped instantly by the arresting gear. They saw dozens of people on the flight deck moving aircraft around, preparing for take-offs of landings, and catching catnaps on the deck in between cycles.

None of our guests could not believe the constant activity going on throughout the ship. There were ships galleys serving food 24 hours a day, medical facilities treating all kinds of illnesses, water being made, garbage being properly disposed of, cleaning and ship’s repairs going on constantly, and all other activities that one may find necessary to operate a city. The comment that I heard the most was, “I cannot believe how young these people are.” That was true; I would imagine 50% of the crew was less than 25 years old.

We were at anchor at Souda Bay, Crete, when the ship coined a new work, “flankering.” The ship actually conducted flight operations, catapulting jets off the carrier while at anchor.

Of my 24 months on the carrier, about 18 months of that were at sea, to include an 11 month deployment. I remember the three-star admiral flying on board the day we deployed to wish us well, saying he was not sure when we would return. The carrier tour had to be the most challenging, yet the most rewarding of my navy career.

Gene Davis

I served on the Nimitz for about a year and ten months — it was my sixth deployment to the Arabian Sea. I ran one of three watch teams in the ship’s Combat Direction Center, and stood watch as the Ship’s Weapons Coordinator. This position involves making tactical defense decisions as directed from the Tactical Action Officer and working with other teams to defend the ship using all the resources available. We went through a series of exercises, events and situations — radar tracking, surface tracking, coordination, information and messages.

What was it like? It was pretty chaotic, in terms of events, but with background training and experience, the crew is trained to handle it. The Nimitz is like a huge, floating city with everything from medical facilities to convenience stores. Obviously, I stood watch a lot, and the biggest challenge the crew faced was the heat and humidity. With the heat index climbing to 120 degrees Fahrenheit, it was hard to keep everyone cool so they could function. But everyone seemed in good spirits, and the camaraderie among the crew was always high. Our deployment was very successful.

I remember the film crew being there from the start of the deployment until we pulled back in — all of six months. That, in itself, is unusual; the fact that for 180 days, they lived life the way we lived it. They had to suffer the same life-changing issues of being at sea, having to rely on people to take care of the ship so we didn’t sink, having to endure our living styles and quarters — the food, the service, the anxiety to go out in liberty and have some fun when we hit a new port. I give them a lot of respect for being able to handle the sea life — it’s not easy, especially if you haven’t had your sea legs tested before.

As the Nimitz crew got accustomed to the film crew, they, in turn, learned not to hide anything or hold back — it was a straight, clean-cut work environment, with all the stresses and evolutions of life aboard an aircraft carrier.

And it wasn’t all work. The film crew was also with us when we docked at the “liberty ports” along the way and experienced the freedom of being on land. We hit Hawaii, Australia on the way back, and Dubai. We saw Kuala Lumpur and Bahrain.

To sum up my impressions, I haven’t seen Carrier yet, but watching the crew and the filming, I think we can expect a lot of realism.

It wasn’t hard for me to change jobs from active duty to CSC work. The structure is different, perhaps — as are some of the challenges — but so much else is the same.

As I see it, I had many customers on the Nimitz, and I have new customers here. But in both cases, it’s all about flexibility and delivering what the customer needs with the resources you have. So that was the main connection. The second was versatility in getting jobs done. Finally, no matter where you are, I think professionalism goes a long way in helping you succeed.

The most valuable lesson I’ve learned is this: Leadership is knowing your people. It’s being able to understand the team you’re working with. It’s earning the respect of your other team members. That goes a long way toward a successful mission, whether you’re in the Navy or in CSC.

When the person next to you can possibly be the one who could save your life, you learn quickly that you have to rely on other people to do their job, and that has taught me how important trust is for teams. When you have the same shared background, the friendships and the camaraderie, they all go toward making a team function more cleanly.

Robert Baumgarten
U.S. Navy (Ret.)
CSC Emergency Operations Center support specialist
U.S. Naval Air Facility, Atsugi, Japan

I was an Operations Specialist in the U.S. Navy from 1984 to 2004, retiring as a Chief Petty Officer. I served on two carriers, the USS Ranger CV-61 and the USS Constellation CV-64. I made six deployments to the Indian Ocean or the Persian Gulf. In my five years onboard the USS Constellation, I was Air Warfare Officer in Combat Information Center as well as Conning Officer on the bridge.
Here is the first letter I sent home during my last deployment in 1999. More to come.

June 18, 1999

Point Loma and the golden mountains of California sink away behind us, the journey begins. Heading west to the next horizon, what’s on the other side? Who knows? Tied between my sense of adventure and desire to start a normal life, I’ve been here before, I am in my environment and I am comfortable.

Brooks Davis
CSC Systems Engineer/Analyst
Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center
San Diego, Calif.