0800 - The bosun's mate of the watch keys the
mic to the 1MC, rings eight bells, signaling that it's time to shift watches
(down in Combat, the third class operations specialist on port and starboard
watch rotation grinds his teeth - two more hours). Immediately afterwards, he
sounds "All hands" on his pipe, and then speaks into the mic: "Sweepers,
sweepers, man your brooms. Give the ship a good sweep down fore and aft. Sweep
down all lower decks, ladder backs, and passageways.
Sweepers."
No sudden boil of activity
follows this announcement - all hands not actually on watch are already on
station at their cleaning quarters. Some have fox tail brooms, some have sponges
and warm, soapy water, some have dust rags, some have sandpaper to clean the
"knee knockers." Each and every one has somewhere else he'd rather be - cleaning
the ship is no one's favorite task, but the Navy has an almost Old Testament
resentment of anything at all which smacks of filth or disarray. Order. Order
and cleanliness. These are the things that soothe the naval
mind.
In Tactical Flag Command
Center, or TFCC, the strike group commander, a one-star admiral, finishes
receiving his brief from the battle watch captain: The carrier is coming along
side the oiler to take on fuel for the air wing. The assigned
Ticonderoga-class
cruiser is close aboard in "shotgun" position, protecting the carrier like a
vigilant guard dog on a short leash. The two destroyers are up north, one
patrolling in vicinity of the offshore Iraqi oil terminals, so vital to the
country's reconstruction, while the other is shadowing a "suspect" merchantman,
itself hugging the seam between international waters and Iranian territorial
seas. The self-defense alert 7 fighter package is cocked on deck. Flight
operations start at 1200 - the first launch includes overland close air support
missions in support of coalition operations. If any of the soldiers or Marines
ashore get pressured, naval aviation will be there to lend a hand. After 1200 -
up until that point, the burden lies on the Air Force, and USMC fixed and rotary
wing assets ashore. No significant materiel casualties impact the strike group's
capabilities.
The admiral nods,
appreciatively. Things are as they should be. He checks his watch, and notes
that he has 50 minutes until the Warfare Commander Meeting, his first formal
meeting of the day. There will be many more. He turns aside to hide from his
watch the irrepressible sigh he feels forming in his chest. Once, he recollects,
he was a warrior. Now he goes to meetings. Ah,
well.
On the bridge, the squadron
commanding officer has already shifted the conn from the pilot house to
Auxiliary Conn, on the starboard bridge wing. He is nearly stabilized alongside
the oiler - the approach wasn't awful, he made no serious errors. The ship's
operations officer, standing directly behind him, in an almost physical
intimacy, coached him through the process. Behind him is the ship's navigator,
moving back and forth in restless concern. Behind the navigator is the Captain,
in his own chair. Behind him is the ship's executive officer, standing alert,
like a bird dog on point. Behind him is the ship's command master chief,
watching with detached amusement the self-imposed strain of the officers. Apart
from the Reactor Officer and Chief Engineer, both riding herd down in Reactor
Control and in Damage Control Central, these are the most powerful and important
men in the ship's company. Apart from the Master Chief, all of them are career
aviators.
No
pressure.
The squadron commanding
officer orders the lee helmsman "All engines ahead two-thirds. Set the alongside
maneuvering combination as 63 RPM." The lee helmsman reads the orders back
verbatim, in a hieratic, almost stylized voice. Down in the main engine room,
the throttlemen for shafts one and four set their engines to exactly 63 RPM, sit
back and smile over the heads of their engaged friends on Main Engines Two and
Three. Their work is done, until the carrier is complete with refueling. The
throttlemen for number Two and three main engines will make all further speed
corrections, at the conning officer's
command.
In after steering, another
watch stands, awaiting a casualty or loss of control. Should the helmsman lose
control of the ship's massive rudders, they are prepared to step in. This never
happens. They are prepared
anyway.
"Sign on, young man, and sail with me. The stature of our homeland is no more than the measure of ourselves. Our job is to keep her free. Our will is to keep the torch of freedom burning for all. To this solemn purpose we call on the young, the brave, the strong, and the free. Heed my call, Come to the sea. Come Sail with me." - John Paul Jones
"Pardon him, Theodotus; he is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature" --George Bernard Shaw, "Ceasar and Cleopatra"
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."--Friederich Nietzsche
