Carrier (1999) (53 page)

August of 1997 was hot and humid in the mid-Atlantic. As if the challenges of the coming JTFEX were not enough, the weather gods were going to make the sailors and Marines suffer. On the afternoon before the group sailed, it was hot. Really hot! So hot that a new high-temperature record of 104° F/40° C had been set that afternoon at the Norfolk Naval Base. In this kind of heat, officers and NCOs had to watch closely for signs of heat stroke and exhaustion in their enlisted personnel as they labored to finish loading supplies and equipment, while ships and equipment had become so heat-soaked that they would stay hot for days to come. Even the heavy-duty air-conditioning of ships like the
GW
and
South Carolina
was having a hard time keeping up with it.

To my good fortune, I managed to miss much of the heat wave, since I would fly into the exercise several days later. But for John Gresham, the heat and humidity would become part of his permanent memory of JTFEX 97-3. John arrived late in the afternoon, thus missing the worst of the midday heat. As he pulled his car up to the long row of carrier docks, he could see all manner of ships. Two other big
Nimitz-
class carriers, the
Theodore Roosevelt
(CVN-71) and
John Stennis
(CVN-75), were tied up in the deep-water berths next to the
GW.
The
“TR”
was about to head into Dry Dock 12 across the river at Newport News Shipbuilding for her first major overhaul, while the
“Johnny Reb”
was working up for her first overseas deployment in 1998.

Hauling his bags up the long brow to the hangar-deck-level entrance, together with what seemed like thousands of other officers and men, John felt very small and very diminished. And well he might. For in fact, the
GW was full.
Every single bunk, stateroom, and cot was filled; some were actually being
shared
by contractor, observation-team, and training personnel who were augmenting the normal ship’s crew. Though Lieutenant Joe Navritril, the capable young Public Affairs Officer (PAO) for the ship and battle group, had managed to find a stateroom for me up on the 02 level, John had to make do in somewhat less comfortable accommodations lower in the ship. Meanwhile, as John waited for Lieutenant Navritril to escort him below, he was able to meet a number of the ship’s officers, including Captain Rutheford and the newly appointed Executive Officer (XO), Commander Chuck Smith.

After the young PAO arrived, he and John headed into the interior of the ship and went below. Once they reached the third deck, they headed aft to a small fifteen-man bunk room that was being used for overflow berthing during the coming exercise—hardly what you would call “plush” accommodations. Yet a quick look showed that nobody under the rank of lieutenant commander, or less than a contractor’s technical representative, was getting even these berths. So John, counting himself lucky, wedged his gear and large frame into a center bunk to get some rest.

Even after nightfall, the entire ship was still like a sauna bath from the brutal pounding of the day’s sun. Despite the best efforts of the air conditioners, some spaces would not cool down during the coming voyage. Unfortunately, John’s bunk room was going to be one of these (it was located directly over one of the reactor/machinery spaces). Stoically accepting what couldn’t be changed, John and his shipmates settled down for the night, quietly sweating away the hours until the carrier sailed the following morning.

 

After 0600 reveille, John rolled out of his rack to start the first of what would be many long, hot days at sea. Despite his cramped and steamy accommodations on the third deck, his location offered some advantages. For one thing, he was close to a nearby officers’ head (bathroom), complete with shower facilities; and the main officers’ dining room was located just a few steps forward of his berthing room. “Wardroom 3,” the largest of the officers’ dining areas aboard the
GW,
with room for over a hundred personnel to sit at once, is the social center of the ship. Service comes in two ways there. You can either pass through a cafeteria-style serving line, or you can have a mess specialist take your order.

This morning, since he wanted to have a good view of the sailing, and Captain Rutheford had announced that the ship would slip moorings promptly at 0700, John hurried through his breakfast. Afterward, he headed up to “Vultures Row” on the island and found a place outboard to watch the proceedings. “Yank” Rutheford was prompt, and the lines were slipped at the top of the hour. Overhead, an HS-11 HH-60G helicopter kept watch for signs of trouble, as well as to feed the traffic situation in the channel down to Captain Rutheford. Gently putting a few turns of reverse power on the screws, he eased the big flattop far enough away from the pier for the three tugs to take a hold on the carrier’s hull.

All of these actions are done with exquisite precision and patience. On the one hand, the berths in this part of the harbor give a
Nimitz-
class carrier only about ten feet/three meters of clearance from the muddy bottom. On the other, the huge propellers tend to stir up the mud and sand, which can clog the delicate seawater inlets and condensers, and thus they are used carefully until the ship is in the middle of the main channel.

After backing carefully away from the pier, Captain Rutheford conned the ship in a wide reverse “Y” turn, leaving the
GW
aimed directly down the main channel leading to Hampton Roads. Calling, “All ahead one third,” he now began the run down the channel to the right-hand turn that leads to Hampton Roads and the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.

Meanwhile, other ships of the battle group and ARG were pulling out of their berths behind the GW, preparing to follow her down the channel. These included the cruisers
Normandy
(CG-60) and
South Carolina
(CGN-36), the
Seattle
(AOE-3), and the
Guam.
The cruisers would act as guards for the
GW
until the other ships of the battle group arrived to assist with that job. The
Guam
was on her way to meet up with the other three ships of her ARG, which were based down the Bay at Little Creek. From there, they would head south to Moorehead City, North Carolina, to pick up the personnel and equipment of the 24th MEU (SOC).

In fact, all along the eastern seaboard of the U.S., warships were leaving port to join up with the
GW
for the coming exercise. At the submarine base at Groton, Connecticut, the nuclear attack submarines
Toledo
(SSN-769) and
Annapolis
(SSN-760) cleared the Thames River channel and Long Island, heading south to join up with the rest of the group. Similarly, down at Mayport, Florida, the destroyers
Carney
(DDG-64) and
John Rodgers
(DD-983) and guided-missile frigates
Boone
(FFG-28) and
Underwood
(FFG-36) were clearing the mouth of the Saint John’s River and heading north to the rendezvous point off of the Carolina coast. Finally, STANAFORLANT was finishing its trans-Atlantic run, planning to arrive several days hence.

While all of this activity was going on, the various elements of CVW-1 were finishing their movement to airfields in the mid-Atlantic region and preparing to conduct their “fly-on” to the
GW
the following day. For most of the squadrons, things had gone quite well. Most of the air wing would fly aboard the following afternoon, after which they would conduct several days of carrier qualifications prior to the actual start of the JTFEX scenario.

As they proceeded toward the open sea, the crew of the
GW
concentrated on getting things squared away after several months of berthing in Norfolk. All over the ship, electrical lines, hoses, and other pieces of equipment were being coiled, stowed, and put away. Even before the ship passed over the Hampton Roads Tunnel, there was a buzz of activity all over
Gw.
Captain Rutheford had several training evolutions to run before the carrier exited the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay—anchoring drills in the forecastle and tests of the various firefighting and damage-control systems. After
GW
passed the outer bay, Captain Rutheford ordered course 090° (due east), and headed for the Virginia capes, where they met the two cruisers, and began a run south to pick up the air wing.

That morning the
GW
and her cruiser escorts were operating in clear sunshine about 125 nm/230 km southeast of MCAS Cherry Point, North Carolina. Earlier they had broken into an area of high pressure and lower humidity, allowing the air-conditioning to get a start on removing the heat soak from the ships. Meanwhile, the GW flight deck crews were getting ready to take aboard their first jet aircraft of this cruise—not CVW-1 jets, but a group of USMC AV-8B Harrier II jump jets from Cherry Point. About 1100, the Harriers arrived, attracting lots of attention up on Vultures Row. Many of the young sailors had never seen a Harrier perform a vertical landing, a wondrous sight to folks used to the normal arrested landings of conventional carrier airplanes. After a short break for lunch, the Marines were off, so that the deck would be clear for the aircraft of CVW-1 arriving that afternoon.

1300 found the
GW
and her escorts steaming into the gentle southwest wind, preparing to take aboard the first of the aircraft from CVW-1. This was a particularly dangerous time for the pilots and crews of the air wing, since landing skills are easily lost without practice and it had been several months since their last “traps” aboard the
GW
during the CAPEX. For that reason, everyone on board the ship and in the air was being extra careful. Across the deck public-address system came the booming voices of the “Air Boss,” Commander John Kindred, and his assistant, the “Mini Boss,” Commander Carl June. Neither was risking ruining their perfect safety record during their assignments on board the
GW.
After making sure that the Landing Signals Officers (LSOs) were on their platform, the deck/safety crews were ready, the plane guard helicopter from HS-11 was overhead, and the cruisers were at their stations, the Air Boss and Mini Boss turned on the lights of the landing system and began to bring the air wing aboard.

One of the first to land was Captain “Boomer” Stufflebeem, flying an F/A-18C Hornet. Behind him came the approximately seventy aircraft of CVW-1. As soon as each plane was safely down and the arresting wire was cleared of the tailhook, the pilot was directed forward to a parking area ahead of the island. There the aircraft were either chained down or directed two at a time to one of the elevators, where they would be struck below to the hangar deck. There they would be carefully parked, sometimes with only inches between each bird. The crews then headed below to their squadron ready rooms down on the O-2 level, where they would check their landing scores from the LSOs. These scores were important to the flight crews, since each of them would have to requalifiy to land aboard the
GW
before being allowed to fly operationally in the coming JTFEX. For the next several days in fact, carrier qualifications would be the major activity of
GW
and CVW-1. Until each squadron’s entire complement of air crew had successfully completed their required day and night “traps,” the
GW
would be nothing more than a training base. All of this took several days of nearly round-the-clock flight operations, and was to be the first real test of endurance for the
GW
and her crew.

 

My own expedition to join JTFEX 97-2 began at midday, when I boarded a VRC-40 C-2A Greyhound Carrier Onboard Delivery (COD) aircraft of VRC-40 at NAS Norfolk. As I had been warned, the flight was fully booked and every seat filled. Everyone traveling out to the battle group had only the three COD flights to and from the
GW
as available transport.

Flying as a passenger on board a C-2 is unlike any other flying experience I’ve known. For starters, you sit in mildly uncomfortable “bucket” seats, facing aft in rows of four. Since payload and range are more important than creature comforts, the Greyhound has no sound-deadening material, and the air-conditioning system is decidedly crude, though robust. In the killing heat and humidity of the NAS Norfolk ramp, the vents spewed a chilling fog, which did not let up until we climbed to cruise altitude.

To help protect the passengers against the noise of the twin turboprop engines, we were each issued a “Mickey Mouse” cranial helmet with ear protectors. In addition, we each wore a “float coat” life preserver, just in case we had to ditch during the flight. When all of us were strapped in, the two crew chiefs gave us a safety briefing, then raised the rear cargo ramp, and the flight crew started the engines. As soon as these had warmed up, the aircraft was taxied to the end of the runway, and we were off.