Time is cruel to the body, but the memories will never fade. I will forever be 20, standing on the flight deck of the USS Oriskany - CVA34, watching the sun set over a calm sea. The smell of salt in the air, its taste in my mouth and the feel of hard steel beneath my feet and eager anticipation in my hart looking out across the sea to my newest adventure. With the coming of the next morning's horizon and the dawn of each passing day I lived like it was a given that I would be there to see it through with each rising sun.
Now I lay my head down each night in anticipation of the newest adventure that my mind will create from the gallant stories of that young man for my body can no longer sail the seas but my mind will forever soar!
I was stationed at Naval Schools Command, Treasure Island. That's a small flat island in the middle of San Francisco Bay. It was my first duty station. I was maintaining electronic test equipment for an Electronic Technician "A" school on the island. I just received my new orders. Sea Duty aboard the USS Oriskany CVA 34. I had never heard of Her so, I started asking others on the island if they knew anything about this ship. The "CVA" told me that she was an attack carrier of some kind but no one I talked to had ever heard of this "Oriskany" thing.
The orders also stated that before reporting aboard I would spend a few weeks in a "C" school learning something called NTDS (Naval Tactical Data) SRC-16 radio transmitter - receiver system (one of the Navy's first communications networks) at Mare Island Naval Shipyard, somewhere close to San Francisco.
When I got to Mare Island and started the school, I also started asking around if anyone knew anything about this "Oriskany" ship. I found one old instructor that knew about her. He broke out into a huge laugh when I mentioned I was going to the Oriskany. He asked me who I pissed off. He said she was the OLDEST THING AFLOAT! Her SRC-16 system was serial number XN1 #1. That meant it was experimental model number 1 and was nothing like the machine I learned in school. Well, at least I now knew something about this thing called "Oriskany."
On the 17th of April 1973, I stood at the head of a pier in Alameda California. On my port side stood the USS Enterprise. Pride of the Navy, Queen of the sea. She was all decked out to start her sea tour tomorrow. Today she stood tall sleek and shinny. A necklace of aircraft around her island, She looked like an Ensign standing inspection, not a scratch or bruise on her skin, wrinkle in her uniform, and not a hair out of place. So beautiful and "sexy" - A sailor's "dream boat". I could almost feel her tugging at me, whispering a beautiful sea chantey in my ear, trying to lure me away from my destination on the opposite side of the pier.
On the starboard side, stood the Old Bitch of the Sea - Oriskany. Just back from her sea tour yesterday. There she stood, Her uniform of grey: dirty, torn, wrinkled and tattered. Her skin scratched, bruised, covered in soot, salt and seagull crap. As I walked up her after-brow I could smell her sweat. Sweat from hundreds of miles in scorching sun and rough stormy seas, sweat from dozens of weeks at Yankee Station with flight ops sometimes going 24 hours a day. She was old, ugly and decrepit and she smelled of death.
At the head of her brow I stopped, turned and saluted her ensign. As I turned a 180, grabbed my packet of papers to hand to the Brow Watch, I thought: What the hell am I doing here? Did I piss off God? Why couldn't I be ridding that sleek young thing across the pier? The world knew her name and who's girl she was. Why am I, not even 20 years old yet, why do I have to ride this lonely Old Bitch of the Sea that no one knew, and from the looks of her, no one cared about?
On 14 June 1976, I stepped out on her flight deck for the last time. Slated for decommissioning instead of being cleaned up primed and painted, she was being stripped of all of her equipment. As I looked around I saw Her uniform of grey, still dirty, torn, wrinkled, tattered and Her skin scratched, bruised, covered in soot, salt and seagull crap from Her last Westpac. She was older and probably a bit uglier, but she wasn't the old bitch of the sea that I thought she would be. Once you got to know her she became a Fighting Lady. "The Mighty 'O' "is what we called her. A bitch to her enemy, but a Mighty Fighting Lady to her crew. She was the last of her kind, the last Essex Class Carrier, the last of the mighty fighting ships that took back the Pacific from the Japanese. From Alaska in the north to all the little islands that dot her south, the Essex Class Carriers fought and won the Pacific war. No, Oriskany wasn't the old bitch of the sea, She was the proud mother of the modern carrier, the first "SUPER CARRIER." Without the Essex Class Carriers like Oriskany, we would not have the sassy, sleek and sexy carriers of today.
As I walked down her after-brow for the last time, I walked slowly so that I could savor her sweet sweat from missions to Korea and Vietnam, all the flight-ops involved in those wars along with the storms and typhoons we weathered. Along with her sweat is the always welcoming aroma of Subic bay with just a hint of Olongapo bar-maid perfume mixed with the breeze off shit-river.
...Sorry, I just couldn't help a little Westpac reminiscing.
"I
can imagine no more rewarding a career. And any man who may be asked in
this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can
respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction, 'I served in the
United States Navy'." - John F. Kennedy at the commissioning ceremony of the USS Oriskany in 1950 (my first ship).
ETN3 Harbit - Proud to say "I served on the USS Oriskany CVA 34"
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For more information visit:
Wikipedia - USS Oriskany (CV-34)
