Beef and I served together at the Super Sh!t Hot World Famous Golden Dragons, back in the day. Department heads, like. A good feller. Hard in the trenches, whether that was in a no-fly zone getting plinked at, or on the playing fields of Hong Kong and Singapore.
Someone finally got around to sending me his change of command speech. I wish I could have been there. It’s ret good:
Two days ago I closed out my career as a Naval Aviator. The realization is just now starting to hit me as I’m sure it will the rest of you some day.
What follows are my remarks at my farewell dinner. Several of the guys in my squadron had asked me for a copy of what I had written and because it had been jotted down on the back of a cocktail napkin in my weird-assed hand writing and because these things came from my heart, I debated for a while whether or not to do write it down, but the response from all the guys and their wives was so humbling and overwhelming, thought……why not.
Being an F-18 pilot and an airline pilot at the same time gives you an interesting and different perspective. Unlike others, at my airline they do not have a history of hiring Single Seat Naval Aviators and as such we are definitely in the minority. On every trip when you first sit down next to a guy, the first volley of questions in getting to know each other always includes “what is your background?” Based on 3 years in the airline industry, I have recently decided to flat out lie and stop telling guys that I am a Naval Aviator and an F-18 pilot. You might be asking yourself, why would anyone do that?
There are 3 reasons.
One…..Because everything that the uninformed population knows about Naval Aviation they got from the movie Top Gun. A credible and reliable source of information if there ever was one.
Two…..Because when I tell guys that I am an F-18 pilot, the machismo and bravado that immediately comes from the left side of the cockpit becomes somewhat intolerable and I am forced to sit and listen to stories for the next 4 days that go something like……”Mike, did I tell you about the time when I landed my C-5 on a 15,000 foot runway with only 30,000 pounds of fuel in the tanks, with the weather at mins…… and oh, oh yeah, did I say it was at night.”
You gotta be shittin’ me!!!
Three…..Because, in their state of curiosity, invariably questions get asked about what flying the F-18 is like and what this business of Naval Aviation is all about. It is in my futile attempts to answer these questions that I have finally decided that it is impossible to do so.
How can anyone possibly explain Naval Aviation?
How do you explain what it has been like to have seen the entire world through the canopy of an F-18 like a living IMAX film?
How do you explain what is like to fly an engineering marvel that responds to your every whim of airborne imagination?
How do you explain the satisfaction that comes from seeing a target under the diamond disappear at the flick of your thumb?….. on time.
How do you explain cat shots……especially the night ones?
How do explain the exhilaration of the day trap?
How do you possibly explain finding your self at 3/4 miles, at night, weather down, deck moving, hyperventilating into your mask, knowing that it
will take everything you have to get aboard without killing yourself?How do you explain moons so bright and nights so dark that they defy logic?
How do you explain sunrises and sunsets so glorious that you knew in your heart that God had created that exact moment in time just for you?
How do you explain the fellowship of the ready room where no slack is given and none is taken?
How do you explain an environment where the content of a man’s character can be summed up into two simple four-word phrases…….”He’s a good shit” or “He’s a @#*%@$ ‘ idiot.”
How do you explain the heart of maintenance professionals like Rudy and Frank who’s only enjoyment comes from taking care of our young Sailors and providing us with “up” jets to execute our craft?
How do you explain the dedication of our young troops who we burden with the responsibilities of our lives and then pay them peanuts to do so?
How do you explain the type of women who are crazy enough to marry into Naval Aviation, who endure long working hours and long periods of separation and who are painfully and quietly forced to accept the realization that they are second to the job?
The simple fact is that you can’t explain it. None of it. It is something that only a very select few of us will ever know. We are bonded for life by our proprietary knowledge and it excludes all others from our fraternity. As I will, no matter where you go or what do, you should cherish that knowledge for the rest of you life.
For when I am 90 years old sitting on my porch in my rocking chair and someone asks me what I have done with my life, I will damn sure not tell them I was an airline pilot, but rather I will reach into my pocket, pull out my Blue Dolphin money clip and tell them I was a Naval Aviator, I worked with the finest people on the planet, and that I was the Commanding Officer of the Blue Dolphins.
Not too shabby, coming from UGa man, airline pilot and preservist.
Not too shabby at all.
I’ve known pilots from every branch, and the stories are similar, differing only in the details peculiar to their branch of service.
Personally, I’ve never met a former or even a reserve fighter pilot that also had an airline seat. I think it’s mostly because an airliner is too much like driving a flying bus and much too staid for the fighter pilot. All the former military/reserve pilots that I knew with airline seats had been multi-engine drivers, but then that world is more like the airlines.
Lex:
Hey, not bad for a HUD-cripple!
QM: Can’t speak for the old CVWR-20 VF bubbas but CAG-30’s VF squadrons had its share of airline drivers. I know my Intruder squadron did, among others doing more productive jobs. Which reminds me of a story, once upon a time when “Boomer” Wilson was CAG…heh, heh.
VR,
Comjam
Beef good boy. He flies boxes now.
“How do you explain…?”
The closest I’ve ever heard is that it’s a lot like sex… If you’ve never done it, there’s no way I can explain it to you. If you HAVE done it, there’s no need need to explain it.
If you’ve never done it, there’s no way I can explain it to you.
But writing like this (and like Lex graces us with himself), makes us outsiders think maybe that’s not quite 100% true…
FuzzyBear,
I was an aircrewman. I didn’t get to drive the bus, but I operated all the kewl stuff in back.
One of the best jobs was the weekend “school run” between NAS Brunswick, Maine, and NAS Jacksonville. We’d head down to Jax on Friday, drop off folks going there for whatever reason, P/u folks headed back to Brunswick, and repeat the flight on sunday.
What was wonderful ws the trip back up the east coast. It would be night, in a darkened ship, and I’d set myself down in the port aft observation window and just take in the view. There are no words to describe the sight.
The window (P-3 Orion) is round and much larger than a commercial airliner window. You can actually lean OUT into the window to increase the view.
To say that it looked like fiery drops tossed out onto a sea of black velvet still doesn’t do the scene justice. The lights of the cities up the coast, from Jax to Charleston, Norfolk, Washington, Philly, New York, Boston, Portland, and finally home to BNAS.
I would have done that job for free, but they paid me to do it! I truly got to see an huge amount of the world, it’s peoples, it’s cities, sample the foods and drinks, it was amazing and the sad part is, as the good skipper said, you cant put it into words.
The best years of my life were spent as a Navy Aircrewman. Yeah, I love and cherish my children. I can’t imagine life without being their father, but still… To have walked the streets of Pompeii, to see Knossos, to hear and feel and smell the Asores, of Iceland, the Madeiras islands, Ascencion, and all the many places in and around them.
People thank me for being a Veteran. I can’t thank the Navy enough for the privilege of being a part of the Fleet Air Arm.
And yeah, I wish I had the words to describe it. It’s like crack, I suppose. If they said i could go back I’d kiss the kids goodbye and be there in a heartbeat.
respects,
AW1,
well said – I agree with the amount of fun it was to fly in the sky pig
I too spent many an hour gazing out of those wonderous bubble windows (except I was west coast and touring the Pacific/Indian Oceans).
But I think regardless of platform, all of us got be part of a unique organization that few are ever so lucky to experience.
This comes close… I’ve tried taking photos (and gotten some good ones) but it never gets someone who hasn’t been there, there.
Cruise videos are pretty close, depending on the quality. But it only gets you so far…
Even for the guys flying nowadays, when the “How fast have you been?” stories come up… they can’t fathom being in a fully loaded F-14B, tanks, rails Lantirn pod, painted up as our CAG-bird… doing 1.8 IMN level at 40K going like a bat outta hell… and praying to god you didn’t rip the paint off the nose!
Whew! That was quite a relief! Ah, the freedom of being a stupid (but lucky) JO in the last of the “salad days”… they were good…
Typical reservist. Doing in 2 days a month what it takes the regular navy all month to do.
Curtis, your statement reminds me of a statement on one of the reserve A-3’s (I think VAK-208) calling cards: “We can do any thing the regular Navy can – If we feel like it.
Former CAG-30 guy here (VF-301). Seems Delta had a hankerin’ for former Navy Tomcat & Hornet guyz. A couple of the Skippers during my time there got their paychecks from Southwest and such.
Grin flew ’57’s feet wet to various locations for Delta, making a nice 6 figure bulge in the wallet back in the late ’80’s; as did others like him. Weekends at the Preserves were mostly an entertaining diversion from the ‘other stuff’ they did.
Mongo:
Damn, that is you, ain’t it? Hey, don’t forget Sickle who had his Western furlough letter on the wall in the office when he was CAG30!
VR,
Comjam
(308 & 304)
Lex, I didn’t know Beef and you went back. I also didn’t know he made CO, and that the Blue Dolphins were still around–thought they were shut down a few years back. So it’s a trifecta.
This is from a couple of years ago, before the Dolphins went away (2005?). Great speech, good to see it again.
Lex,
Who’s permission do I need to chop this for Tailhook Daily?
-JC
Good words. Reminds me of two divergent thoughts reoccurring as a theme through my days. 1. “I can’t believe they actually pay me money to do this for a living.” This one occurs during those bright moonlit nights or “glorious sunrises”.
2. God, they don’t pay me enough to do this shi_”. Occurs during those inky black nights off the boat or when you hear that an aircraft is down with crew missing and presumed lost.
I don’t tell my customers that I was in the Navy either. Invariably leads to 66 questions of “do you know? were you? did you?”
But I think when Beef makes it to the left seat he may soften his stance. Then he gets to set the tone in the cockpit – “sit down, shut up, don’t say a word unless we’re on fire”.
Beef was my very first CO with VFA-195 before he was selected to lead the Blues. While I only served with him for 4 months it was very apparent to me that the squadron he let behind represented his charisma and professionalism. I’ll never forget my first DET to Kadena with the Chippies. We were held to a midnight curfew out in town for some previous liberty incidents. When 1145pm rolled around, Beef looked at his watch(with the rest of the squadron there) and said, “I guess we’re night check”(night check had a 2am curfew). When 145am rolled around, he again looked at his watch and said….”I guess we’re day check, someone let me know when CAG shows up”. Work hard play hard was and I’m sure still his his motto. We missed him when he left the Chippies..
Belay my last….wrong Beef…..”Da Fu…..”
Lex,
“Hard in the trenches” must mean something different to Naval Aviators than it does to those in, you know, actual trenches.
The world surely looks mighty different from 6′ than it must from 6,000′ or 36,000′ or whatever. No glorious 600 mph IMAX in the wild blue yonder when the days and nights are spent at 4 mph or 15 mph in dust or mud for many of us.
We got to see the results of our actions up close and personal and as it happened. No film at 11 in the comfort of the wardroom.
Some of my friends would probably let it go by saying of your pal Beef that “he looks good astride a white horse.”
Me? I’m inclined to say that it’s the difference between being “to the manner born” (or “To the Manor Born” if you prefer the TV program to Hamlet) and being drafted.
Sincerely hope he continues to lead a charmed life. Had the cards been dealt differently, he could have found himself slogging through the A Shau Valley, patrolling the mountains of Afghanistan, or worse yet, community organizing on the mean streets of Chicago.
Hope that as a member of “the select few” he remembers those who aren’t.
Hard in the trenches, indeed.
Uncle Mike, if you knew the Beef you’d know that not only would he have remembered those who were not members of the “select few”, he’d have given his life for theirs unquestioningly when things went south on the ground, and mere arty wasn’t doing it.
And bought them a beer afterward, if some how they all came through.
We all serve the best we can in our own way, draftees and volunteers, airmen and sojers.
Lex,
I’ve no reason to doubt your observations of Beef, and I continue to wish him well.
It is good to remember that those at the top of any pile are standing on lots of shoulders; and the higher the pile, the more shoulders we rely upon.
Served me well.
Thanks
… “he looks good astride a white horse.”
Heh. No idea if that phrase applies to Mr. Beef or not, but I look forward to using it on a number of other candidates. Thanks for that one.
As for people asking me about Naval Aviating, my response is always, “If I had to do it all over again, I’d do it all over again.” I am blessed, and know it. There were a million ways to get denied a seat, too many not under my control. I did the best I could with those that were, and rubbed my lucky rabbit’s foot the rest of it.
taxi1,
You’re welcome.
As noted, not original to me.
Feel free to use it with wild abandon.