I’ve worked for a lot of great Americans in my time, and a couple of buttheads too. We’ve got our very own bell curve in naval aviation, but the tail is pretty thin on the left, and a little fatter on the right. Our average is pretty damned good. Beats most people’s best.
Best CO I ever worked for was Turk Green.
Turk came to us from Springfield, Missouri. Carried the accents of his youth into the fleet, and loved playing the role of the down home country boy. It was disarming and charming and some people who ought to have known better sometimes took him for granted. He did it on purpose, I think – he had a mind like a laser scalpel – and of those who wrote him off as just another farm boy from Podunksville, many were left burning in his wake. He never hung a man. Just gave him the rope.
Started out his naval career inauspiciously. Was a seaman on Nixon’s yacht, where his chief claim to fame was to get between a mooring line and the gunwale just before the line went taught. Got flipped over the side, across the dock and into the Potomac on national TV. Came back aboard as wet and mad as an alley cat in a thunderstorm. Loved to tell that tale, as much, I think, as a reminder to himself as a lesson to the rest of us. Always check the small things. Don’t take anything for granted.
An east coast guy, while I’d grown up west. Was first XO, and then CO of the Shit Hot World Famous Golden Dragons of VFA-192, deploying off the USS Independence, that ship deploying from Atsugi, Japan. Forward deployed naval forces. Tip of the spear, first to the fight. He loved every minute of it, and all of us. He must have already been near 50 by the time I worked for him as a department head. About the age I am now. He could rage with the best of them until the sun came up, slip off for half an hour’s rest and then show up to work the next day clear eyed and level headed.
He was tall and spare, with a voice you could cut with a butter knife. A voice made gravelly by the cigarettes he chain smoked one after the other. Life being short, and its pleasures to be enjoyed where you might find them.
I didn’t know him from Adam when I first showed up in Japan, fresh off an adversary tour and knowing everything there was to know. I came to love him slowly – we were very different men – and somehow he came to care for me as well. Like he came to care for all of us.
It’s all beer and skittles as a junior officer in the fleet. By the time you report for a department head tour, the fun and games are over, at least for a while – until you’ve screened for command. As a department head you still have fun but you mostly leave the games behind: You’ve made a “company man” decision, and everything trembles in the balance. You somehow felt both challenged and relieved knowing that Turk’s finger was on the scale. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But you knew it would be fair.
In those days before we had become what we are today, Turk called us all “big balled sons of bitches,” – BBSOBs, for short – and about the worst thing he could say about any man was that he was small balled. It indicated a certain contemptible lack of conviction, a unwillingness to see things through, a reluctance to give everything there was to give, a lack of moral fiber. It didn’t mean you were an imperfect knight, because God knows there were things in my life that I regretted, but somehow he always understood. He even implicitly forgave, while always making it clear – without saying anything – that it wasn’t him who stood in judgment of me. That there was a higher power.
Being “small balled” meant you weren’t trying hard enough. You weren’t doing all you could.
You ended up not wanting to let him down.
Some guys are naturals in the air, and they rest on their God-given talents. They call themselves “pilots” rather than naval officers who also happen to fly. Other guys find that those subtle distinctions in fine motor control, eyesight and some ineffable combination of perceptive and reactive cognitive skills that, taken together, amount to SA – situational awareness – are not gifted to them. Most of the latter with ambition determine to be outstanding officers if they cannot be outstanding pilots. There can be an uneasy tension between the two. The officers – “staff officers”, in the eyes of the “pilots” – know that eventually they will win the great climb up the career mountain. They try their best not to make any fatal mistakes while setting themselves up for career enhancing non-flying jobs. The “pilots” claim not to have ambitions other than to become the most lethally forged instruments of war that they can become. In lieu of Pentagon tours they go to weapons schools. The former determine to outlast the latter, abide the petty humiliations, knowing that the Navy wants good pilots for a time, but has an enduring need for good officers. The latter airily decline to play the career game, and then all too often burn with envy when passed over when the time for flying skills are past, and the time for leadership and management is at a premium. There can be resentments.
Turk was an outstanding officer, but not a naturally gifted pilot. He came into his own kind of aerial excellence not through genetics, but by a sturdy, stubborn refusal to take second place in anything. He might come up short in any one of several competitions, but he’d never give up, and he’d never disparage the game. He was rare, that way. Refused to give in. Took chances. Thought outside the box. Accepted no orthodoxies. Loved his family.
Rare enough, taken together. But rarer still was this: When he met a guy with better hands, he didn’t resent him for those things that he’d been blessed with, those things he’d received through no merit of his own. He celebrated them, like a good man will celebrate the extraordinary fortune of a best friend.
We flew out to the ship one day for an embark, and somehow he ended up navigating to the wrong waypoint. The place the ship had said it was going to be, rather than where it ended up being. I was on his wing, and waited a decent interval before calling a “Magellan, 30 right.” It meant that I thought he was off course, and after a moment’s consideration, he checked us back towards the ship.
It’s a hard thing to call your boss out on the radio, and one could be forgiven for expecting a certain surliness afterward. The CO is, after all, The Man. God’s chosen vessel. But after we landed, he thanked me for backing him up. For helping him get the job done. There were no explanations, no excuses.
Me? I had, for the first time in my life, certain envies of my own. Having come up out of the ranks, Turk could speak to the enlisted guys in a way that I never could have carried off. Knew their dreams, had lived their lives, spoke to them in a language that they understood, without any sense that he was speaking down to them, or patronizing them.
By the time I was a lieutenant commander, I was already a better stick and throttle pilot than Turk – as he often, joyfully admitted – and I hoped to some day be as good an officer. But I knew, with a sinking feeling in my heart that I hated acknowledging, that I would never be as good a leader as he was. Knew that I could never have his rapport with that 93% of a strike fighter squadron which was not composed of a strike fighter pilots, the deck plate sailors that made everything else possible. While also building an airborne team that would have gratefully flown through hell with him.
I’d come up against a limit for the first time in my career. It would be good practice for all the other times that were to come. Turk, meanwhile, reassured me that I would find my own way.
There’s much more I could tell, but it wouldn’t scratch the surface. I don’t need to tell you how he went on to burn through Nuc Power School, how he served as the CO of the USS Camden, XO of USS Harry Truman, and how he stepped in to heal a wounded ship when the CO of the USS John F. Kennedy was suddenly relieved. How he went on to command the USS Theodore Roosevelt. I don’t have to tell you how he came down with cancer, fought it valiantly off, and how it returned again with a vengeance, springing on him from the darkness.
I won’t tell you how so many of those he touched came to visit him one last time as he entered into hospice care at last, when fighting hard wouldn’t do it any more. How they all celebrated a life well lived. How I begged off, citing previous engagements, not knowing how I could have gotten through it.
But I will tell you know how I learned that Turk Green passed into the clearing at the end of the path. I got this note tonight from my old roommate aboard the USS Independence, a current commander of a carrier air wing:
Turk departed this life at around 7:30 this evening with Barb at his side. As the Marine general said at the BBSOB event, we will see him again someday “on the high ground.” He is certainly in a better place now, a place where he deserves to be.
Turk was truly a special person. He was a one-of-a-kind, larger than life character that Naval Aviation produced and God allowed us to enjoy for a few years. Turk’s gifts of leadership and “BBSOBness” were that he made us all believe that we are all something special. Since our time in Japan, I had never seen Turk that he did not brag to me about my family or some small success that I have had. Everyone who knows Turk had that same relationship with him I think. He was always about others…never about himself.
Even during the BBSOB Weekend — the tribute to Turk — his focus was always on something other than himself: faith, family, friends, service to our great country. Only Turk could have pulled that off. Thank you Turk for everything. Fair winds and following seas on this your most important journey. Our prayers are where you would want them to be right now, with Barb and the kids.
Best to you all and God Bless.
Great American, departing. Bosun, strike the bell.
Update: More over at Tailhook’s Daily Briefing
My God, this is a shock.
I first met Turk Green about eight years ago or so. This is a huge loss-not just for his family, but for Naval Aviation. There are no words……….
Thank you Lex.
What a loss. My sympathies are with his family and the Naval Aviation community.
A lot of respect, reflection, and admiration in that memorial Lex–and a lot of insight. Too bad we aren’t structured like the British instead of “up or out”–from this distance it seems you would have been perfect as a
permanent CAG until you couldn’t climb in the cockpit any more…..
PS: No disrespect–not that you couldn’t do a superior job higher up the ladder, but it seems to me that realm is/was not where you’re heart is. Funny thing, you remind me so much of one of my best friends who chose the same route as you and stayed out of staff positions and in the cockpit until the end as an O-6. He coincidentally was also the CO of the Red Flag aggressors at Nellis for a stint.
Sorry for your less Lex, and you too Skippy.
less = loss, that’s what happens after a few glasses of vino tinto, forgive me, it’s horse racing day down here.
The only certainty in Life, is change. Our heroes move on, grow old, and die. Our children grow up, move away, and sink or swim without us. Our Leaders teach us more about ourselves than we could ever hope to learn by ourselves because they push us places we haven’t been before. And then they move on to new experiences. Life is all about managing change the best way we can.
I’ve found that even the best among us will grow weary of constantly standing on the front line, at the razor’s edge, and leading young Men and Women to new heights. While the excitement and enthusiasm in the effort would seem to be self-perpetuating, and lead a progressively older wolf to continue making his kills, our bodies age, our minds wander, and our hearts develop tics which slow us down. Time makes fools of us all in the End.
The things that amaze me now, are how long some Men carry the mantle of Command and Leadership, and do it so well against such downright impossible odds at all. How long the pilot’s body lasts to keep him at the edge of his envelope. How long the managers brain stays sharp at keeping all those plates spinning. And how long a Leader can keep the naysayers, straphangers, and smaller minded people from derailing his mission.
And then they all fade away to find something else to do and be a success at. Wherever the Navy sends ya. Wherever Life takes ya. Wherever the Good Lord plants ya.
Cause there’s always a need for Good Men and Women in Heaven. Not enough Guardian Angels there to keep all us fools down here safe from ourselves and the small mindedness we usually affect when it comes to everyone else around us who is more successful than we.
Godspeed CAPT Green. Anklebiters and naysayers are with us every day. But Sailors like CAPT Green are the treasures that make the Voyage worth the taking.
Subsunk
My parents were living in Jacksonville, FL when Turk was CO of the Kennedy – they lived between two Chiefs from the ship who spoke quite highly of their CO… in the way that only a Chief can.
Thanks for sharing this — Godspeed Captain Green.
B
Sorry for your loss, Lex. He really does sound like an amazing man. And it was a very moving tribute you penned. Perhaps now, for a few brief moments, the time is right for it to be all about him.
You write with great insight, both about both yourself and others. Another gift.
A toast; To Absent Companions!
My sympathies on your loss, Lex.
He was obviously a great man, and we are lucky that your skills are up to communicating that to us who were not blessed to know him.
I find myself often saying this when someone has lost a loved one or friend, but I think it is true: he clearly lives on in you and the other lives he so strongly impacted.
Beautiful tribute to a great man, Lex. Obviously the kind of guy you want to lead you.
A fine tribute, Lex. Would that we could all serve under such men.
Brian
Well said Lex from one of those lucky folks who knew him best.
“He was always about others…never about himself”
No higher tribute. Lex was super lucky to have him as a CO. Wherever he went things got better-natural borne Naval Aviation troubleshooter. He was extra-special amongst the special. RIP Turk.
If you don’t mind Lex I’d like to post this link I came across so folks hereabouts can know him better:
http://www.kitsapsun.com/news/2001/feb/16/bio-co-capt-john-l-green/
b2
As always Lex, the power of your words and phrases brings things to life in a very beautiful way.
Turk Green – clearly a man standing tall among men who stand tall.
Dang Lex. I had no idea Turk had been/was ill. I’ll never forget upon arriving in Atsugi and heading to the club…who was that ancient man with the cigarette, gravel voice to match, and those freakin’ yellow socks! As you know I didn’t work directly for Turk, but it didn’t take me long to grow a healthy admiration for him. And unlike a few Skippers out there, as you indicate, he knew his limits behind the boat. Which was refreshing, and made me admire and respect him that much more.
Michener shacked it when he asked “Where do we get such men?”
The answer, of course, is that quite often we get them from Podunksville in the form of Turk Green.
And men like Turk are the reason our experiment in freedom and happiness has lasted thus far.
We cannot honor them enough.
Oyster,
Hit square in the black, sir.
We get such men from places where families remember to talk about the “whole” and someone’s place in it, where a father teaches his son to be willing to sign his name to his work, to say “I did that.”
Where “Duty, Honour, Country” are more than three words graven on a wall.
Thank you, Lex, for your fine column. I think that it is especially poignant today, being a day where we are all asked to say where we stand.
And thank you, Captain Green. Fair winds and following seas.
Godspeed Capt Green.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
If we’re lucky and the stars align, we may get a chance to work with and for men such as Turk. I’ve never met the man, yet I did. I count myself as one of the lucky ones, to have worked for two such men. The kind that would say, lets go put out the fires in Hades, and we’d grab buckets. As mentioned, they do seem invincible to us, bigger than life and when we measure ourselves against them, we know we’ll come up short, its only a matter of how short. Sadly, as mentioned above, we all grow older…
He’s in Valhalla, prob hair on fire enjoying every minute of it. Sooner than we’d like, some of us will join him.
RIP
Thanks Captain. This type of post is a big reason I’m here.
Where do we get men like this indeed.
Forwarding to future Navy enlisted daughter. This is part of her heritage.
Thank you Lex for helping me remember such moments and such men, the finest I have known in my life.
Posts such as this are the main reason I come here, Captain. Not to hear of the passing of men like Turk Green, but to learn of who they were and how they lived. My sympathies to his family and shipmates. Truly a great warrior lost.
I had the pleasure to serve under a similar Skipper. Work hard, play hard, and strive to be the best damn warship in the fleet. With a strong emphasis on ‘warship’. And yeah, Capt. D was a mustang as well.
Ah, Lex (and all), I’m so sorry. Nobody could ask for a more heartfelt, respectful tribute.
Lex,
kind words for a great American! We’ll all miss Turk and those like him who have passed on to their final tour of duty.
Lex,
You are one heck of a story teller! Capt Green couldn’t ask for a finer, more inspiring homage.
And like some of the others have stated, your captivating tales of Navy life (and the many lessons learned) keep me returning here.
Beautifully written, Lex. We had a short but sweet interaction with Turk & Barb at our church here in Norfolk while he was still at CNAL. Truly a Great American.
I Googled his name and came up with the following which starts with an entry from his nephew who is in flight training.
http://www.airwarriors.com/forum/showthread.php?s=a37ea5a43da4f1bc5d683e514e5f9147&p=493168#post493168
Lex,
Well Done! He was a friend, shipmate, fellow CO and one of my HEROES! My last telecon with him was an upbeat Turk, shredding my fear of raising bad thoughts. He was getting ready for the trip to DC and wanted to make sure he looked his best among his friends! There are none finer, and he will live alongside Bug waiting for the rest of us to arrive at the ramp! Thanks for the great tribute to a Great Man!
One of the first things I did once I finished training and got to the fleet was go to Roosey Roads PR with my new squadron and the rest of my new air wing. We were the “orange” (bad) forces fighting against one of the battle groups getting ready to deploy.
We had one of “those nights” while there. The whole air wing converged on the officer’s club and had a ripping good time. There was this crazy-assed department heads in one of the F-18 squadrons who chain smoked and had a group of JO groupies that followed him everywhere. Turk did stuff like lead the entire air wing in serenading CAG, who was trying to have a quiet dinner with Mrs. CAG and another Captain and his wife. (We sang “Swing Low” complete with hand gestures.) He also had some of his guys lift him up and put his noggin into a turning ceiling fan – about the funniest thing I had ever seen.
Never worked with him after that tour, but always nodded whenever someone talked about how great Turk was.
He will definitely be missed – another giant in a profession full of them.
Nose
My sympathies, Lex. And appreciation for yet another great tribute to yet another great man. You walked among giants and are truly blessed for having done so. I’m absolutely positive that somewhere a long ways down this road (emphasis on LONG ways) someone will write something exactly like this about you, as well.
Nose,
Heh.. that ceiling fan thing.
Reminds me of a former skipper I had. The night before he was to assume command, he hosted a dinner for the outgoing CO. After dinner, gathered the officers together for a toast, placed his glass on the floor, and stomped on it, forgetting that he and the others had also removed their shoes…….
Next day, there he was in choker whites, crutches, and this massive bandage hiding the 27 stitches in the bottom of his foot.
Every time the admiral looked over at him, it was everything we could do to keep from bursting out laughing.
Things you remember, eh?
There is a certain relationship that Department Heads, even in the Surface Navy, have with their CO’s. A moving tribute to an obviously big influence on you.
V/r,
Fred
What a loss to this world. Turk was my boss, my mentor and best of all, my friend. It’s not often in the Navy that you have the privilege of having a boss that is everything you want to be. He was my CO on USS CAMDEN. I was his Supply Officer. Never did I disagreee with his management style or his direction. And I can’t say that about any other boss I had in my 26 years in the Navy.
Barb is a wonderful person and my wife and she got to be very close during this two years.
Turk took over a ship that had extremely low morale. Almost as bad as USS JFK. And within a very short time, this ship was on cloud nine. We had fun and loved what we did. I later attended his CoC onboard USS TR and he hadn’t changed a bit, still having fun and motivating sailors.
I loved being a part of his team. This world is now worse off for his loss. But is a better place because of his life.
May God Bless his sweet family and God Bless America.
sincerely,
Arlis Ethridge
I was privileged to get to know Turk when he was tasked with readying JFK for deployment. It took me about 3 minutes to determine that he was the right man for the job.
He is what makes serving with shipmates so very special.
I hope we can all aspire to his level of leadership and commitment.
Great job Lex! Turk was one of the best!
I was fortunate to meet Turk and Barb aboard the “Big Stick” on a friends and family cruise out of Norfolk in 2005. It was an unbelieveable experience made all the more memorable when Turk let me sit in his chair on the Bridge. I have a picture of that and I will charish it forever.
Turk was a great American, like the name of the ship he commanded. He lived up to one of TR’s famous quotes, a favorite of mine, “Work Hard..Play Hard”. He will be missed. My most sincerely regards and prayers to Barb and family, including the many men and women he commanded.
My best memories of Turk are of his ACLS Mode I approaches behind the Indy. Once coupled up, the controller would always ask him, “How’s the ride?” People tuned in all around the boat to hear Turk’s responses. My favorite was, “As smooth as the top of CAG’s head.” Farewell Turk.
Thanks for the tribute Lex. John and I graduated from high school together. He was my best friend back in those long ago days. The fact that he moved his way up the ranks to leadership positions is no surprise to me. I’ll miss him so. Barb, our thoughts and prayers are with you and the kids.
How in the hell did I miss this, Lex? I missed this entire day’s worth of entries…
And how did a miss a piece so wonderfully written? I hope that when I die, I have a friend that can write about me as wonderfully as you have written about him. His Obit was nice, but this was tremendous.
I hope his family gets a chance to see this entry… his children need to know what you think, a perspective of their father they never did see because he was their father, not their coworker or boss. Children can never hear enough how wonderful their parent was… never. I think its healing.
I just learned today of CAPT Green’s passing today while searching former Naval Aviator students (PXOs or Prospective Executive Officers) that I taught at Naval Nuclear Power School (NNPS) from 1995-97.
CAPT Green was a great man and I have many fond memories – of teaching, tutoring and casual conversations. He overcame a great deal of adversity to succeed at NNPS. The PXO students attend after squadron command, around the 20 years of service point. The bulk of the students are Navy Ensigns, fresh out of college, nearly all in their early 20s. Despite the differences, all are held to the same rigorous academic standard. Due to his prior enlistment, CAPT Green was several years older than his peers – and much further removed from his undergraduate studies.
As a result, his children were also older – I recall his daughter was a senior in high school during his six months in Orlando; a very difficult time to be separated from his family.
One story he told I’ll never forget. We were talking about inspections, unrealistic (inflated) standards and shared common feelings about the “dog and pony show” nature of many inspections. I’ll relay the story as I recall, I’m a submarine officer, not an aviator, so I do not know the specific terms.
He was in squadron command and had a routine scheduled inspection. Rather than jump through hoops in preparation (replace all binders with new shiny ones, concentrate all efforts on the “checklist”, etc) he conducted business as usual, as his personal high standards. The result? He received a below average or perhaps even failing grade on the inspection.
In speaking with his superior (I presume it would have been the Wing Commander) he told him that the inspection team could come back, at any time unannounced, and they would find his day-to-day level of readiness and standards at the same high level.
He did receive a subsequent inspection, he did NOT change anything or get ready for it, and this time he passed because they used a realistic standard, as opposed to the “dog and pony show” standard used on the previous visit.
CAPT Green earned a great deal of respect from me for his willingness to stand up and do what’s right, despite the possible personal or career consequences.
I send my deepest belated regrets to his family and friends for your loss.
Bob King
subbob@gmail.com
I was fortunate to have served under Captain Green when I was assigned to TR. I’ll never forget his two favorite lines…”We’re going to go out and kick some dirt ball, dirt bag terrorist butt.” and “I’m still the happiest Sailor in the Navy!” Captain Green was a true inspiration to all who served under him. Even when TR was in the shipyard in Portsmouth, VA, Captain Green kept the Officers and Crew motivated to get the job done right the first time. Our country has lost a Great American. Rest in Peace Captain Green.
I served with then LT Green in VA 86 in the early 80’s and was truely in awe and respected him so very much. I remember the mustache…almost always smiling…the way he walked and was just just a pleasure to be around. Very down to earth…a regular guy and so easy to respect. I was a Troubleshooter at the time and he was one of the nicest pilots to deal with…he listened to what we had to say if we thought something was wrong with his plane and never questioned our judgement. I never knew his career continued the way it did. He is truely one of the best…