Up in the Air

This is the 4th of July (2016) weekend, and since I normally post a blog on Sunday I thought I'd share with you something patriotic. More specifically, a story from my time in the U.S. Navy.

When I was on the USS Elrod (FFG-55), I had a leading Petty Officer named Carl Barber, who being an avid photographer, always looked for opportunities to play "shutter bug".

RM1 Carl Barber - with camera over shoulder

Because of him I purchased my first "real" camera: a Canon T50. A real beginner's beauty:

Now, Carl was a REAL photographer. He knew all about F-stops and apertures, and all that shtuff. Me? I knew the "auto" setting.

One day we took a ferry ride around the coast of Maine, navigating around a number of small islands. It was the perfect opportunity to snag some photos. We got on the boat, got settled, the boat left the pier, went around the corner and right smack dab into a fog bank. The temperature dropped and the visibility went to zero. We sat shivering, clutching our cameras for the entire ride.

Not all opportunities were misses though.

The USS Elrod was an anti-submarine vessel. Among its gear were two SH-60B LAMPS MK III helicopters. Now, in order for a helicopter to land on the back of a moving ship, the helicopter would lower a cable to a crewman on the flight deck, who would drop it through the deck to connect to a winch. The helicopter would pull back on the stick, making the cable taught. The winch would then start to pull the helicopter to the deck, with the pilot maintaining speed to match the ship. Once the helicopter touched down, it would be clamped to a trolley-type device that, after the props were folded back, would be carted into one of two hangers.

On the way back from the Persian Gulf, I had the opportunity to go into the Helo-Control Tower and take some photos. Here are a few showing you what I just described:

And for perspective, here are a few shots I took FROM the helicopter of the ship:

The Helo-Control Tower is the windowed box sticking out between the two closed "garage" doors.

So, as you enjoy a burger or brat, and maybe a cold brew, take a moment to say a quick prayer of gratitude for those serving in our armed forces. I know I will.

©Emittravel 2016

Fair Winds and Following Seas

I celebrated my 30th birthday in October of 1995. I remember turning to my (then) 60 year old dad and saying, "Remember when you were my age, you had me." Without skipping a beat, he looked at me and said, "Don't remind me."

For some reason I took that as a joke about him having ME, and that might be right. But upon reflection, it may be that he went through the same "crisis" as I was going through when he turned 30.

Thirty. That was the only birthday that I've experienced, in my 49+ years going around the sun, that had an impact. The rest were just like any other day.

Thirty was not necessarily the beginning of a new era, but the ending of others. Twelve years of school were over. My teen years. Four years in the Navy. Hell, even "dating" was over (I was married to my ex at the time). I felt more the loss of life, than the excitement of what was to come. C'mon: I was too young to be having a mid-life crisis!

This weekend I attended the end of another 30 year "life". On Friday, January 30, the USS Elrod (FFG-55) was decommissioned. Twenty-three of us "Plankowners" (the ship's commissioning crew) were there to watch her last crew disembark, and to see the last watch secured. The same twenty-three (out of approximately 190 crew) who had the honor of being there to first man the rails at her commissioning ceremony.

(Note: there were actually twenty-four of us in attendance. One was there by proxy. He was on a deployment, and was in attendance via Skype.)

The USS Elrod had 19 captains. I had the pleasure of serving under the first two. During her career, she sailed around two million miles and had conducted 19 deployments. I was there for the first deployment to the Persian Gulf in 1987-1988. She had served the United States proudly, in true recognition of her namesake, Major Henry Tallmadge Elrod, who served valiantly during World War II on Wake Island.

"To all the former commanding officers and former crew members in the audience, we want you to know that all the way to the end, Elrod's radars detected and tracked aircraft, her sonars detected and tracked submarines, her communication equipment function[ed] as designed, her guns shot straight and her engines ran fast." - Commander Brad L. Stallings, the final Commanding Officer of the USS Elrod.

Video from U.S. Navy of USS Elrod Decommissioning

After the ceremony had ended, the twenty-three of us gathered around to have pictures taken, with the Elrod in the background. We were accompanied by Commander Stallings and guest speaker Brigadier General Raymond R. Descheneaux. General Descheneaux had "jockeyed" to be in attendance, and we were proud to have him there. As a Marine, he spoke passionately of Major Elrod and his team's actions on Wake Island. He said that, when telling the Chief of Naval Operations (CNO) of his opportunity to attend, that the CNO "beamed", knowing the sacrifices made of both Major Elrod and the ship that bore his name.

My wife noted so accurately, that what we were attending was in essence a funeral. And like most funerals, the tone was somber at the event, and nostalgically joyous during the gatherings that followed. During the decommissioning, there was not a dry eye among us (as mine are wet now, while I write this), and we hung onto the memories shared with laughter the common expression.



My wife Lisa and I on the flight deck

Thirty years. Unlike the Elrod, whose future is either the scrapyard, or hopefully a few more years serving in a foreign navy, I still have many more to go. Many more years to build upon the memories and friendships that have been made.

To you, the Plankowners and crews of the USS Elrod, I bid you Godspeed in all that you do. Fair winds, and following seas.

Former RM2 J.P. Wiegand.


Me - outside of Radio

-j.p.

© Emittravel 2015

The Light of the Moon

I’m writing you this

in the light of the moon,

under the stars

and dark of night.

Alone on the sea,

With nothing but the waves

striking my vessel.

The breeze is warm;

that which gently moves my hair.

And the sound of the earth

fills my soul

with solitude.

There is nothing to bother,

nothing to hamper,

the peace of night

on the ocean.

Yet,

in the midst

of all this beauty,

a cloud covers

the light of the moon,

and darkness fills the night.

My vision fades to that

which can be seen

by the sparseness of stars,

that still peer

through the shadow.

And with the darkness

that encompasses all,

comes the knowledge of the breeze,

in its never-ending movement,

that shall remove the cloud

from its path,

and once again fill the void

with that

of the light of the moon.

Oh how much does this,

this vision of mine eyes,

reflect an overpowering likeness,

of that

which envelopes our love.

I sit here

in the light of your love,

under the beauty

of God’s divine power.

Alone with myself,

with nothing but the thoughts of you

striking (oh so gently) my heart.

The time is slow,

that which gently moves our lives,

and the sound of my heart

fills my soul

with loneliness.

There is nothing to disturb,

nothing to hinder,

the peace of love

in my heart.

Yet,

in the midst

of all this love,

a cloud covers

the joy in my heart,

and despair fills my soul.

My hope fades to that

which can be hoped

with what love

that could survive,

through this cloud

which is separation.

And with the loneliness

that envelopes my being,

comes the knowledge of time,

in its never-ending movement,

that shall bring us together,

and once again fill the void

with that

of the light of the moon.

J.P. Wiegand

© Emittravel 1985

This one is kind of long, but it was written in two stages. The first portion was written while sitting on the deck, off the port side, of the USS Elrod (FFG-55) - you'll notice in the picture the "motor-whale boat" in the upper left portion of the shot. This part was actually written EXACTLY the way it took place. I went back in to finish the second portion due to lack of light.

The photo was taken back in 1986 while our ship was in the Caribbean. The USS Elrod has recently finished her last deployment and will be decommissioned. -j.p.

© Emittravel 2014

Over and Out!

Have you ever heard the expression: "Knowledge is power"? That is so true - in most cases, but not always. Sometimes knowledge can take the fun out of things!

I've never been much of a war movie fan. Never could find the entertainment value in them. Oh, there are the stories of great bravery and all, but for the most part, "realism" in a war movie can be a deterrent. Don't get me wrong; I don't hate all things "war" (M*A*S*H, Hogan's Heroes, McHale's Navy), I just could never get into them too much.

I'm not anti-military (even though the three television shows mentioned above tended to snub their noses at it). I served in the US Navy from 1984 - 1988. I was a (frocked) 2nd Class Petty Officer - Radioman when I finished. Frocked means I wore the stripes (and chevron), had all of the benefits and responsibilities, but without the pay. My DD-214 paperwork shows me departing as an E-4 (3rd Class Petty Officer), though my uniform showed 2nd Class Petty Officer (E-5). I really enjoyed my time in the service. I spent most of my time on the USS Elrod (FFG-55) doing what I loved. I kept my time to one term of enlistment for reasons other than the work.

One thing that the knowledge I had gained gave me, was a distaste for Hollywood's portrayal of the military. And it comes down to one phrase: "Over and out." Every time I hear that I want to beat someone OVER the head until they're OUT!

In communications, there are two possible ways to end a transmission:

"Over" - I am done transmitting. Please respond.
"Out" - I am done transmitting. DO NOT respond.

Every time I hear "Over and out" I hear "I am done transmitting. Please respond AND shut up!"

Hey Hollywood! It's one OR the other. NOT BOTH!

Sorry. Being that "knowledge is power", I just ruined movies for you.

So if you care to comment, please do. Over."

© Emittravel 2013

Stuff My Brain Says #23

Defense spending is like having insurance. Both are expensive. You hope you never need to use it; but if you do, you sure hope you have enough.

I was stationed on the USS Elrod (FFG-55), and the ship's motto was "War Ready to Preserve Peace". That pretty much sums it up.

© Emittravel 2011

A Moment of Realization - of Becoming

The following is from my personal journal:

 

July 13, 2011 - Starlight Café, Bath, ME - Had a crabmeat and spinach quiche. I know that "real men don't eat quiche", but I had the opportunity to have crabmeat in it. And everybody knows, crabmeat is the other, other white meat.

After a terrific tour of Bath Iron Works, via a trolley from the Maine Maritime Museum, we had about a half-hour conversation with the tour guide. The tour guide was a retired engineer who worked on my ship - USS Elrod, FFG-55 - back during my early naval career. We had about a half-hour conversation together after the tour. Later, while Lisa and I were in the gift shop, we could here him telling others that there is a plankowner from the Elrod here. Way cool!

We went to Café Crème to have something to drink and snack. Very tasty. From there we went to the Kennebec River and sat on a bench and absorbed the atmosphere. Then we went to the local IGA for some wine and cheese and watched as a rainstorm came through. I did a fast walk to the other side of town for the Jeep. We decided to go back to the hotel to clean up and change clothes.

Dinner was at the Osprey - delicious. Great clam "chowdah"! Lisa had a lobster roll and I had seafood fettuccini (lobster, mussels, scallops, shrimp - oh yeah!)

After dinner we went for a drive and enjoyed as the evening set in. We found ourselves at the "end" of Bath along the Kennebec as the sun set.

Lisa and I had a conversation while sitting alongside the Kennebec River and why a place like this for me, or for her Kent State University, has such meaning. The Kennebec is just a river. I'm no lifetime sailor. I have no connection to the sea as some do. And yet I'm drawn here.

My life completely changed when I got to Bath, ME back in 1985. I left San Diego, CA, went home for about two weeks on leave (vacation), and then met the ship in Bath. I arrived, met the ship, and immediately was sent to Norfolk, VA to meet the crew. You have to understand, the Elrod was a brand-new ship. We were the original (a.k.a. "plankowner") crew. There is something special about being the first crew to take a ship out to sea. But at the beginning, while she was still being prepared, living quarters on the ship weren't ready. The crew was gathering in Norfolk to prepare, and that is where I went.

After a couple of short weeks we flew back to Maine to meet the ship. Once we took possession of her we left Bath via the Kennebec River and met the outskirts of a hurricane. After being tossed around for awhile (it was such fun! I saw a chair lift off the deck and flew over against a bulkhead [wall]. In actuality, the ship dropped and leaned so quickly the chair was left in midair, where the bulkhead came to it. Someone immediately said, "Someone want to tie that thing down?") the ship went to New Jersey for our ammo, a quick stop in Brunswick, GA for the commissioning ceremony, and then to Charleston, SC - our home port.

You see, the Kennebec represents a transition for me. Traveling down the river on the Elrod was a symbolic moment where I left "childhood" and entered "adulthood". Leaving home and going to San Diego, CA was not the same. Sure, there was boot camp, Radioman "A" School, and Morse Code School, but it was still school. When I got to the Elrod I was told, "You just get out of school? Well, forget what you learned; we're going to teach you how to be a Radioman." I learned how to be independent yet part of a team/family. I moved on and became a man. The river represents that "becoming" to me. And coming back to it floods my personal banks with emotion - overwhelms me.

I've half-jokingly said that when I die I want to be cremated and have my ashes deposited in the Kennebec. I guess I find that river a symbol for another major transition as well.

© Emittravel 2011

Memorial Day - Sit Down Already!

On Memorial Sunday, my church's choir sings a number from the upcoming Patriotic Musical - to be performed close to the Independence Day weekend celebration. During the song, which is a celebration of our country's military, members of the congregation who currently serve or have in the past served in our country's military are asked to stand and be recognized.

I hate it.

Not that I am ashamed of my time in the military (U.S. Navy, 1984 - 1988). I'm not! I'm very proud to have served my country; to be a plankowner (commissioning crew member) on one of our navy's finest vessels: USS Elrod (FFG-55). To have served in Desert Shield was an honor.

We stand and are recognized on Independence Day. We stand and are recognized on Veterans Day. But Memorial Day? No. This day is set aside for those who CANNOT stand. It is to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country. They are in a different class from the rest.

No, we service members should not stand and be recognized on this day - unless EVERYONE ELSE stands with us.

To the fallen - thank you. May the Lord bless you and keep you, make His face shine upon you, and give you everlasting peace.

© Emittravel 2011