I had intended to start SERIOUS writing this week but discovered yesterday, I have a Pro Bono engagement on Thursday that I had initiated and hoped for.
So, post work day, my Dog Sharing Neighbor asked, what was on my agenda tonight. I told her about tonight’s menu and the luxury of wandering about and reading. And finding this, in my favorite Used Book Shop (‘tween a really good pet treat store and favorite grocery), for $5.95. It is, extraordinary.
Warning! This has nothing to do with Photography! But it’s a pretty good story.
Long, long ago, about 1971, I was Navy, on a surprising Shore Duty Tour. After completing Polaris Electronics “A” School (26 weeks) and Mk. 84 Fire Control “C” School (26 weeks) and Basic Enlisted Submarine School (8 weeks), I got orders to “Pomflant”. Say what?
East Bay Street & St. Philips from the Cooper River
Discovered “Pomflant” was the USN acronym for “Polaris Missile Facility Atlantic”. Which was about to practically change to “Poseidon Missile Facility Atlantic”. It was up the peninsula from Charleston, part of the Naval Weapons Station, Charleston. Naval Base Charleston was between. Charleston is still there (for awhile, sea rise is a thing). Pomflant is long gone, last converted to an Army Munitions Depot, it’s genesis before becoming Pomflant. Almost poetic.
Discovered the Navy and Lockheed Missile & Space Company and General Electric Ordnance Systems had a new bird to produce: the C-3 Poseidon. Bigger than a Polaris, longer range and MIRV capability. So along with the Lockheed, GE and Civil Service Inspectors, Sailor bodies were needed, like moi.
Naive beyond belief (19 years old) it didn’t occur to me it wasn’t normal to be in a single barracks of Sailors adjacent to three barracks of Marines who patrolled 24×7, with loaded weapons, between twelve foot high barbed wired topped fences, all lit up like daylight. Turns out the grass covered mounds stored the largest concentration of thermonuclear weapons in the US Arsenal. But that’s not what this is about.
I had convinced the Loan Committee at the Navy Federal Credit Union that I was ok for an $1,100 loan to buy a 1968 Mercury Cougar (after a trade in offer of $700 for my 1965 Mercury Comet). And being miles out in the Piney Woods, there was a fully equipped Auto Hobby Shop behind the barracks! One of my first mechanical adventures was replacing Shock Absorbers. Sears had “Heavy Duty” ones for about $8. And I spent a Saturday in the shop and installed the new ones. But practical as I was (am), thought the rubber grommets, beveled washers and nuts and bolts too good to just throw away. Saved in car trunk.
Okay, so this is what this is really about. I worked in “MACB” aka Missile Assembly Checkout Building. Looked like a basketball cut in half and covered with sod. Underneath the sod was multi feet thick reinforced concrete. Entrance was though massive, double blast doors. It was surrounded by Missile Assembly Buildings. My day job was testing the new Poseidon Missile under the watchful eyes of Civil Sevice Inspectors, following step by step procedures, often “Reader Worker” rountine. And the main piece of purpose designed test equipment would put an appliance store Refrigerator Showroom Display to shame!
It required “Calibration and Certification” every 90 days, a very strict procedure. Inside one 19″ multi-door bay was a squirrel cage blower for cooling. It had a belt driven split sheave so the speed could be adjusted to spec. It was mounted to an adjustable aluminum frame at four points, by rubber grommets with bonded nuts & bolts. Found a couple broken. An “older” Sailor who’d been there awhile told me they would just “Super Glue” them . The replacement parts were $$$$ and scarce. And here’s where I got in trouble.
Remembering the left over hardware in the trunk of my “68” Cougar, I cleaned up my old “Shock Absorber” parts and installed them in lieu of what I thought was poor design. Used a “Stroboscope” to calibrate the RPM (thanks Doc Edgerton). It met Calibration Spec and was WAY quieter. BUT, somebody ratted me out (probably the Super Glue guy). A Lockheed Engineer showed up and had me open the equipment door. He saw and nodded, said “very nice” and then said “Take it out!” It wasn’t and I wasn’t, “Mil Spec”!
I think it was 1967. A Marine, the older brother of a classmate, was home on leave and visited the High School Art Class he’d attended and I was in. He was a gentle giant, one of those guys who nobody messed with. And we had a chance to talk and he told me about his experience in Vietnam . And he told me essentially, what Master Gunnery Sergeant Valdez, USMC Ret., says at the end of this article.
High School Class of 1968, I was certain to be drafted, so with college a pipe dream, I enlisted in the Navy. Served nine years and got a tech education that later provided well for my family. It never occurred to me that Submarines were hazardous – hot water and good chow. A Nuclear Reactor, and Polaris Missiles with Nuclear Warheads were “normal”. Semper Fi and Anchors Away.
USS Andrew Jackson SSB(N) 619 – U.S. Navy Photo
Long ago, three addresses and two houses and one widower hood past, a summer visitation to Grandmas settled one evening to watch “Band of Brothers”. A grandson by marriage, left to his room while watching, finding it too violent. Which I thought was, “good on him”.
I cannot, not remember the scene where Dick Winters is portrayed on D+1, of 7 June 1944: “I would live this war one day at a time, and I promised myself that if I survived, I would find a small farm somewhere in the Pennsylvania countryside and spend the remainder of my life in quiet and peace.”
As an old man, I cherish my quiet and peace. And understand how much of modern noise is exactly that, just meaningless noise. I remarked today, to my very young neighbor and dog rescuer, that as much as her dog has learned to trust me, she still suffers from unimaginable treatment before her rescue as a puppy, from a Dumpster. Some scars are always felt.
It is nearly an obligation to relate the experience of the previous generation to the latest. Which explains my relating the experience of a then, very young Submariner to my young neighbor last afternoon. I told her about “Kiddie Cruises” aka Annapolis Midshipmen ordered to the USN Fleet, in summer.
USS Andrew Jackson SSB(N) 619 – U.S. Navy Photo
I was crew aboard a Lafayette Class Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine. We operated from a tender in Rota, Spain.
Weapons Gang is also Deck Gang so I was top side when a Midshipman (not lying, blonde good looking boy) crossed the brow and announced to the Chief Steward, Senior Chief Petty Officer Willie Jackson (who NOBODY messed with and whose shoulders blotted out the Sun) his bags were on the Pier. Chief Jackson rolled his eyes while our XO, LCDR Russell took his cigar out of his mouth and explained to the Midshipman how much time he would be allowed to retrieve his bags and report to the Wardroom where the errors of his ways would be explained, in plain language.
Submarines are a meritocracy and nobody cares about your rank. And no one aboard was going to sign that Child’s Qual Card.
Roughly 3 years ago. Still the same. The Mole-Richardson Tungsten Fresnel lights are long gone. Same as my Studio Space deal.
Today, shared untold Submariner stories with my young neighbor. Young lady personifies the best of us. And so it goes.
Aisne-Marne American Cemetery – Belleau, France
Made this photograph in late September of 2o17. From St. Paul Metro Station in the Marais District of Paris, it’s a short ride to Gare Est. Then, a morning express train to Château-Thierry. Next, a local taxi.
99 years after the Battle of Belleau Wood and 1 year before the American President, in Paris, chose not to attend the Centennial Memorial. It was attended by the Commandant of the Unites States Marine Corps. And Marines.
On my visit, I walked the Battlefield in silence and solitude. The American President who dishonored Marines, I do not forgive.
The crews of USS Thresher (SSN-593) and USS Scorpion (SSN-589) paid for my safety aboard USS Andrew Jackson ( SSBN-619)
Unlike me, they are on Eternal Patrol.
As a Submariner, I only made two Surface voyages. Both, were as one of six Enlisted Sailors and a LTJG, as a USN security party aboard Merchant Marine converted WWII Victory Ships: USNS Norwalk & USNS Marshfield.
It was a long time ago. Charleston to Rota, Spain or Holy Loch Scotland were about 10 days, each way, at about 17 knots. Good chow and decent twarthship racks.
We kept watch on a cargo hold of Polaris Missiles. Thermonuclear weapons included. Monitored temperature and potential leaks of hydrogen isotopes.
Had an M1911A in a holster, riveted to a desk. Of boredom, on watch, I would field strip and reassemble the other five stored there. Like solitaire. After awhile, I would do it with eyes closed and time myself.
There is great spiritual peace to be found, alone on the fantail at 0300, mid Atlantic. No light pollution and the stars are clear.
Both ships have been scrapped, long ago. Memory continues.
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