Training Air Wing Five puts on a pretty damned good show, when it comes to a winging. We drove up what ought to have been a familiar track from the northern Pensacola suburbs to NAS Whiting Field in Milton, Florida, apart from the fact that even here progress has left its mark. If by progress your definition is broad enough to include strip malls, gas stations and traffic lights where once there had run a country road. Things move on.
The traffic was sufficiently dense that we arrived just too late to join the wingers at the chapel for a blessing of the wings, and if such an option had been presented to us at Meridian in April of 1985, I must have missed it. We thus had an extra hour or so prior to the winging itself to occupy ourselves, and we did so by going over to the helo airport to see what was making there. Our young man showed us the centennial TH-57C, opened the cabin door and gave a pretty thorough briefing as to the controls and quirks of helicopter flying. He spoke with professional pride, and it was a strange but joyful experience to be the student now of a man who had mostly been my pupil through the years. Thorough and professional though it might have been, I am not yet prepared to take that leap of faith which comes with understanding how such a contraption reliably breaks ground, and almost as reliably returns to it. With his 200-odd hours of instruction he can do something in the aviation world that I – with nearly 5,000 hours and three decades of aerial experience – cannot. I am content with that.
With a few minutes left to spare before the winging, he graciously drove us over to my old stomping grounds at Training Squadron Three. The T-34Cs in which I apprenticed are gone, replaced by the T-6A Texan II, but the squadron spaces had not changed much. The walk from the squadron to the operations shack seemed shorter than I remembered it, back in the day. Perhaps trepidation made the journey longer then than retrospection does today.
It’s been a long road for him, and hard in places. He got to flight training just in time for some wrenching reductions in the force, most of which was imposed upon the backs of his ground school cohort, requiring the kind of academic achievement that, had it been in place in 1983, would have almost certainly left the retired rolls short of one Navy captain of my very close acquaintance. A wrestling match with a high school friend left him with an injury that required delicate surgery to repair. Getting back into an “up” medical status after that surgery came with complications, and called for careful navigation of the hallways and byways of the Naval Aeromedical Institute, whose sole charter it appears is to find plausible reasons to medically disqualify aspiring aviators. We were blessed to count among our distant and unmet friends an occasional reader and his lovely bride who understood the rocks and shoals of that institute intimately, and who helped SNO stay confidently within the fairway. Thanks, Dan.
In the auditorium, a young Marine major and even younger Navy lieutenant marched to the stage from opposite sides, each dressed in their service dress uniforms. They marched towards each other with practiced precision, front-faced towards the impressed audience – at least I was impressed – and launched into a well-rehearsed script to tell us that while what we were about to witness was Kind of a Big Deal, it was also meant to be a joyful and light-hearted celebration of professional accomplishment.
The wing commodore was a genial young (!) captain and he gave a very nice speech which he assured us self-effacingly but accurately we would not much remember. And then the winging ceremonies began.
Each young officer was escorted by his friends and families to the stage, where one among them was designated to emplace the Wings of Gold, and the others to stand witness. The fact that your host is a retired naval officer had not escaped the careful eye of those responsible for the preparations of the ceremony, and my former rank was announced along with my name. I heard that but distantly, and then the sound went away, for this moment wasn’t really about me and anyway I was too full of pride in my son for my other senses to fully operate. When I turned to face him I was handed a pair of wings, which I attempted to surreptitiously pocket in my right trouser pocket, pulling from the left a more worn pair, made of actual gold, given me by my beloved and departed sister 26 years, six months and 16 days previously. Which I wasn’t using them.
My attempted sleight of hand was noticed however. Someone asked if they had been mine, and I nodded in assent. The exchange of legacies was then announced more generally. They looked good on the young man, I shook his hand and then embraced him, holding hard for a moment. We walked down the receiving line, where I thanked his commanding officer for training my son. The Hobbit was, as she is wont to be, overcome a bit by emotion. Not me, at least not until we regained our seats. Sitting next to my son, I glanced over at him there in his full dress whites, tall and fine and wearing wings. And although I had thought myself beyond such things I was moved nearly to tears. It was that close. Didn’t want to embarrass him.
Warfare qualified now, he moves next month to Norfolk, Virginia to become type, model and series qualified in the MH-60S. Following which he’s off to Guam for the next three years.
Things move on.
“The days may drag, but the weeks and months just fly by–enjoy it all while you can.”
Letter from Lt. Gen C.M Talbott (USAF, ret.) when he was an O-6 to me when I was in pilot tng. It ALL goes by too fast, doesn’t it Lex? Once SNO1 was a baby in a crib, now a young warrior like you once were. Life moves apace..
Outstanding! Congratulations to all. The 60 is an excellent airframe – he’ll enjoy it.
+1. ‘Nuff said.
BZ Lex and SNO. Having no offspring of my own, my solid gold SWO pin is at the top of the stack in my shadow box. I got mine around the time you got your wings. Like you, I never strayed too far from the fold in my retirement job, so it still seems strange to get underway and not have to stand watch.
Not much more to say, but I can sure visualize the ceremony. A little duct in the air to befoul the eyes, I’m sure.
I don’t know much about helicopters, but the MH-60S seems like a nice platform. I had the great pleasure of riding in it’s cousin, the Army BlackHawk a few times as a member of the CAP.
I have a good friend who’s daughter is in primary flight training right now,a nd should know where she’s going next by Christmas. I’m hoping fighters, but I think she’s thinking P-3s. Which means she’ll probably end up in helicopters, this being the Navy and all.
Wow, see what having a swollen right hand (got stung by a wasp on Saturday) does to my spelling? I meant a little “dust” in the air and I’m sure there are other problems up there. *sigh*
Proud day, and a bit bittersweet too. Time and tide, etc, etc. May SNO be blessed to undergo the same feelings about 30 years hence.
As for how those contraptions break the surly bounds — it takes a pilot who can simultaneously pat his head with his left hand, rub his tummy with his right, tap the Charleston with his left foot and the black bottom with his right, all the while hummming and whistling Stars and Stripes Forever . Then he hits the ignition and a miracle happens! Landing requires repeating everything, but in reverse order and backwards.
The exchange of legacies was then announced more generally. They looked good on the young man, I shook his hand and then embraced him, holding hard for a moment.
Indeed Sir, that exchange should be announced. It shows a continuation of a commitment that is too few and far between these days. And I’m sure SNO felt that extra moment and was grateful for it. He’s done you proud Lex and Hobbit, for sure.
My youngest uncle, who is still living, was in the Naval Aviation Program during WWII. He entered the program late enough to become a candidate for elimination. The reason was that the Navy had enough pilots for the impending invasion of the Japanese islands, but there was a great need for manpower elsewhere in the fleet. He chose to accept the offer to retrain rather than hoping for the best. He ended up as a quarter master aboard the fleet oiler USS Atascosa at Ulithi Atoll. His luck held. He told me that the USS Mississinewa was tied up at the anchorage his ship normally used the morning of the Japanese submarine attack on Ulithi Atoll.
He is a now long retired electrical engineer, having gotten a college education under the GI Bill after the war.
Congratulations, Lex. The 60 community is getting another nugget to forge into a great driver. I know you’ve got to be proud.
The 60 is a great bird. It took me some getting used to coming from the land of skids (I remember the old insult, “skids are for kids), but she’s a forgiving lass that can be made to dance in the right hands.
Dusty here today.
Seems to be a bit dusty here too. Lex, thanks for sharing….
Congratulations to you and the Hobbit, and especially to your son. I can only hope that one of my sons will someday follow in my footsteps, and I can place a set of salt water tarnished wings on his chest as well.
Good all around – make sure he quickly puts on the issued gold wings and saves the real ones for his SNO! He’ll enjoy the 60, altho Guam can be a little “restraining”.
” Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.”
Carl Sandburg (1878 – 1967)
Glad to say you have done well and reaped the harvest of all you invested in being a good role model and parent.
Bravo Zulu shipmate.
I am sure it was, as it should be, a most fulfilling moment. Hell I’m proud just to say I “know” you in the sense this venue brings us together.
Good luck to SNO and I am grateful for both of your services to the country.
I know how you feel Lex. Some few years back this old broken-down Master Sergeant had the honor and priviledge of pinning those wings of gold on my youngest. Why is it that the air is always kinda dusty on those days?
Damn allergies…thanks for making me fell like I was part of the festivities.
“He spoke with professional pride, and it was a strange but joyful experience to be the student now of a man who had mostly been my pupil through the years.” is where I started crying, how about you guys?
I had the same feeling last December when my son got his MSEE. It was funny for him to talk in terms that were over my head.
Although a bit misty eyed, I was thrilled for him and teh future he has before him.
VX, here’s an old saying you probably heard a time or two in the AF about Guam – “In God We may trust, but in Guam, you will rust.” SNO is going to learn the truth of that one before much longer.
QM/
Yeah, sort of a Minot situation, but with better wx. Lex better tell SNO1 to be careful or after 6mos the first avail soft-leg he sees at 0-drunken last call with a flower in her hair–round-eye or native–is going to end up #1 on the future potential daughter-in-law list.
(I had a buddy of mine in my UPT class from NC State whose first assignment was in Bongos pipeline to Minot mid-winter–90 days later he called his girlfriend up back in NC saying “I can’t take it anymore, lets get married!” LOL)
Minot? I can believe it. He was lucky, though. Coulda sent him to Thule.
My son fell head over heels for a really cute 18 yo near Rolla about 6 years ago. Lucky for him, she didn’t reciprocate. She was flake city. Married another guy (lucky him)and named her first born “Maverick.”
So my youngest is still unmarried at the ripe old age of 33 and holds a MSEE. He’s dumped a number of chicks that were too much like the girl that married dear old Dad, and I wonder if he’ll be able to find a girl he can live with. Given the state of young american womanhood these days, I’m betting against it.
Rolla School of Mines? I have a 1st cousin that graduated from there–as well as an Uncle, come to think of it. (although I think Rolla has changed/”modernized” its name since they graduated.)
Used to be School of Mines. He started there when it was still Um Rolla, but they changed their name again recently. The guy I work under is a grad from there as well. None of teh alums I’ve taled to like the new handle.
The Miner is still the mascot, however.
I know that problem, QM (your final sentence flies over here, too). My youngest has been there and suffered. Thank the Lord he’s as handsome as his Dad
He is the same age as QM jnr.
QM Jr. is better looking than his old man. He would really like to find a nice girl and settle down. He keeps finding wack jobs, though. The most recent dumped him without saying she was dumping him.
I advised he count his blessings and move on.
I’ve teased him about the hawt chicks in the Phillipines, but I think it may be less teasing and more serious these days. Better to go 10K miles and find a girl that likes men, then to settle for some girl that wants to get married then make your life a misery because she absorbed radical feminism and actually hates men.
Pilin’ on with the Congrats!
And yes, Milton done growed all up!
Kinda early in the day for a ‘tears in the eyes’ story, Lex, but a happy story and great way to begin this week. Congrats to all and continued blue skies.
Big day, indeed. Congratulations to SNO and to the family that enabled his success.
” become type, model and series qualified” got me to thinking about the changes over the years. My Dad, as an Ensign and LtJG flew a majority of what the Navy had in the early 50′s as a pilot with a FASRON (Fleet Aviation Support Squadron) in Japan. Every thing from jets, F9F to FJ, to multi recips, F7F and SNB. He said he never wanted to try helos because “They just didn’t look right”.
You gotta love an airplane called a SNEEB, don’tcha?
I feel ya, Lex. One of my great joys is talking tech with the son who now maintains the displays for the Aegis combat system and, by the way, is also a qualified master helmsman on the DDGs. This being the same lad who could barely be convinced to take out the trash only a few years before…
What a wonderful, moving post. Congratulations, sir, to your son and to you.
This takes me straight back to my husband’s winging a few years ago. His father also pinned on his wings; we don’t hold the fact that he’s a retired SWO against him.
Congratulations to your son! I hope he enjoys the RAG and loves life in the fleet.
And although I had thought myself beyond such things I was moved nearly to tears.
Things got a bit misty for me as well during my SN2′s Change of Command ceremony last July… and that was held outdoors on the fantail of the USS Little Rock. Funny how that happens, eh?
Thanks for the recounting of the day and the ceremonies, Cap’n. MOST appreciated.
-Like-
Forgive me as I sit here and bask in the glow coming off of those words. Such pride, such love… The unspoken concern (the workplace of the Naval Aviator NOT being on the ten most safe places to ply ones’ trade- Then again, we don’t put dullards or cretins in cockpits, do we? No sir, we don’t!), and a bit of shock at how things have changed!
I may never share the opportunity to pass along an icon of my Service, sons #1 and #2 are headed for more academic pursuits, son #3 says he wants to be a Marine, but he ain’t there yet, and darling daughter ™ not yet decided in what direction she wishes to head, with plenty of time to think on it…
Gettin’ dusty in here, isn’t it?
Good for your son. I’ve battle medical problems over years on the civilian side. Never fun.
Congrats on a great day! As a former CO of that fine squadron out on Guam I am sure your son will be a great addition to the ready room.
Awesomeness!
I hope you have the opportunity to get a hop with him in his new airframe. Not sure of the Navy’s rules about retirees in MH-60s. I was fortunate enough to get to ride with SNT a few times in the back of his HH-60M opposite the crew chief. As SNT and Pilot were going thru the start up and run up check list I grinned at the crew chief and said, “and to think I used to change his diapers”.
Congratulations all around.
As I recall, we blue (then tan, actually) suiters used to break, for long life, ASAP, the wings given out at our rating bash and ceremony. I still have the two pieces. Seems to have worked for me somehow despite stupidity and Beefeater’s.
On another note, I’m glad that others are beginning to note that many of our newer heroes look like they should still be riding the school bus.
Beautiful day, beautiful post.
This is a great story. I loved this. And I am glad someone noticed the wings. SNO deserved for everyone to know he was wearing something extra special.
What a great day for your family! Congratulations all around.
So, with those wings, your son will not only have the love of his parents looking out for him, but that of his Aunt, as well. That is a lot of love. Lucky young Sailor.
Add me to the list of those suffering from eye problems.
So glad, as well, that things were noticed. As Bou says, SNO deserved the attention.
Thanks, Lex and family, for sharing your special day with me. I will raise a glass of Adnam’s finest bitter this evening and toast my blogchums in US Naval Aviation (and the old boys they received the baton from!)
Absolutely beautiful.
Semper Fi to you and your son Lex.
…I know how I felt at Aberdeen Proving Ground in 2009, watching my son pin on his Maintainers’ Badge – the best feeling in the world knowing your first-born has joined the family business.
Mike
Lex:
Congratulations to your son and you for jobs well done. As the father of a Marine, I understand your pride and happiness.
I wish your son continued success in his endeavors. Please let him know that others are thinking of him.
Thank you, Lex, for sharing your joy with those of us who visit your site.
You only have a few chances in life to commit such crimes as stealing someone’s heart, loitering on your girlfriend’s parent’s front porch, masquerading as a chaperone at your daughter’s first dance, lying to your son about the training wheels he no longer needs, robbing your savings account to buy his first car, fighting to protect a fellow sailor, cheating death by following the flight rules, drunking in public when a good one augers in, disturbing the peace during hail and fairwell celebrations, and shoplifting a new wings pin to replace it with a worn and used one.
Good on you. Good on your son, he will rescue downed pilots, ferry mail, recon, train, and perform other miracles we never dreamed of.
An outstanding and very memorable experience to be sure, and Congratulations to your son, and to you and the wife for your most excellent upbringing skill. I too was able to experience this exact exchange of wings a little more than 2 years ago, in the same auditorium, my son having graduated the rigors of HT-18, and today he is far, far away flying the SH-60B from a Cruiser ‘over there’ for HSL-37. The pomp and circumstance of the ceremony (to include the Blessing of the Wings) was well done, professional, classy, and at times humerous – the two gents before the ceremony had their ‘act’ together – and it sounds as though it is now a polished tradition. No such activities during my winging in 1983 – a classroom, desks and all shoved aside – a word from the CO, and then the wife pinned them on. And then cake and bug juice. Followed of course by the hoards trapsing over to the O’Club for to ‘drink the wings’ from the bottom of a pitcher of our favorite draught.
My son’s ceremony was identical to your son’s – and well it should be done this way now – honored and traditional – passing of the warrior’s wings to the next generation. I loved each second of it, as you observed as did I, their crisp choker whites now adorned with those wings of gold. And I did notice that from then on, the chest was puffed out just a wee bit more, and the chin held a little higher as he walked…. proud – you should be, and hold the memory forever in that special place. They grow up fast. God Bless them all.
Good Job with the sleight of hand Lex. The Navy sails in to the unknown with its time honored traditions.
The proudest I felt as a Navy Officer was while wearing my Uncle’s solid silver Lieutenant’s bars from WWII. Enlisted at 17 in 1936, he served everywhere; from the China Sea to the invasion of North Africa, escorting convoys to Murmansk and the Pacific campaign. Finally retired in 1966 as an LDO SWO Engineering Officer who was salty as they came and tough as nails.
Alas, I have no heirs to pass them or his sword on to.
Seems like “yesterday” we saw Lex in his flight suit with eagles on the shoulders standing next to SNO as he was first making his day into NROTC. Now he’s wearing the wings of gold. As you say, Things Move On. A great day. Congratulations!
Near two decades ago got to pin some crusty old butter bars on SNO, went to his retirement ceremony about a year ago, now we only have extended family in the biz. The 60 is a fine machine and it gives him the possibility of getting into the senior service if he’s really lucky.
Semper Paratus
REP
A wrestling match with a high school friend left him with an injury that required delicate surgery to repair. Getting back into an “up” medical status after that surgery came with complications, and called for careful navigation of the hallways and byways of the Naval Aeromedical Institute, whose sole charter it appears is to find plausible reasons to medically disqualify aspiring aviators.
Yeah, unfortunately we didn;t have any pull and our son was deemed medically unqualified for flight.
We just recently read in NAVY TIMES ABOUT A YOUNG MAN THAT WAS DRUNK AND GOT RUN OVER BY HIS FRIEND’S BOAT AND LOST THE USE OF HIS ARM AND LEG THAT IS STILL BEING KEPT IN THE FLIGHT PROGRAM…
Congratulations to you and your son! The H-60 community is ever growing and in need of skilled aviators. There are some great guys and gals instructing at HSC-2, so he will be well served in training.
Congrats!
HSC-2? A friend/acquaintance of mine is headed there now for SH60S KnightHawk training as well. LTjg Justin Siddall.