It’s been pretty slim in terms of comments lately. I did fix the problem I injected into the system, so….feel free to fact check me or add to any discussion. Post trackbacks here, also.

Sea stories. A serial story, today the first part….

Back in “the day,” one of the drills we had to complete on a periodic basis (I believe this one was quarterly), was the Intrusion Drill, know widely by the exercise nomenclature of “Z-5-O” from the list of exercises. This was spoken as “Zulu Five Oscar.”

The general manner of running this drill was your parent squadron would notify one of the other ships in the squadron that they were being tasked to run the drill on you and they gave them a several day time span to do this and then file the grade sheets with the squadron. What were they to do? Send people to your quarterdeck with false/no identification and attempt to be allowed access to the ship without and escort and being properly recorded in the security log at the Quarterdeck. The idea was to see if the august trio of inport watch standers (the Officer of the Deck (OOD), Petty Officer of the Watch (POOW) and Messenger of the Watch (MOOW), would properly assess the person asking to come aboard was not to be allowed unhindered access to the vessel.

The normal inport quarterdeck of any ship in that era was manned by these three men and, during the work day, were generally very busy with handling the ebb and flow of those coming and going, passing ship’s standard routine, routing incoming phone calls (back in the 70’s most ship’s had two, maybe three phone lines, the one to the quarterdeck was the published number and received calls from businesses, other commands, distraught girlfriends wanting to know if their boy friend had arrived yet, the supply center, and the command duty officer from the senior ship at the pier (Pier SOPA) to inform the OOD of a pallet on the pier, or that the man hoisting the Jack (the little flag flown on the jackstaff on the bow (the “flag” in the Navy is called the “Ensign” and it is hoisted on the staff at the stern) didn’t have his hat on properly at morning colors, or some such complaint about a breach of good order and discipline or general military appearance. And then add the internal issues to the ship to the workload of concerns. I’m not making excuses, I’m just relating the mayhem that is the norm at this watch station on a moment to moment basis.

Being in the “Fat Ship” Navy, we didn’t always seem so serious about things that seemed like purely warfighting issues. After all, we only had four converted from aircraft 20mm cannons as our main battery while at sea, mounted on tripods at the four upper level corners of the after superstructure, all manually aimed (think of the movies of the deck gunners in WWII firing at incoming kamikazes…that was us in the cruise missile and jet age), and inport, two armed men, one the POOW, the other a roving security watch were the combined defense force for 8M gallons of fuels and 600 tons of ordnance. They were equipped with the mighty 1911 .45 caliber pistol and two magazines of ammunition (14 rounds).

However, we were serious about our mission to keep the glamorous aviators and the greyhounds of the sea on task by supplying them with fuel, spare parts and chow.

The drills, and I had only been aboard a few months at this point, and it was my first ship, so I was still but an Ensign, without much understanding of the way things were at this point, were generally done by gentleman’s agreement, unspoken as it was within the fat ship fraternity, to not let your “shipmates” fail, unless they were literally sleepwalking at their duty, in which case, then it was fair to write them up as failing. Minimal effort to catch the “intruders” was sufficient to get a passing score submitted…Most drills ended with “OK, yes, I am. Here, sign the paper” and life went back to “normal” at the Quarterdeck.

And then one day, you know it just had to happen, someone decided to shake things up a bit….

I didn’t have the watch, and it wasn’t even my duty day, yet I did comprehend that when a sailor from the USS SEATTLE (AOE-3) made it past our quarterdeck and was allowed to wander freely, without a visitors badge, it was bad for us.

I don’t recall the specifics, but somehow my division Chief Petty Officer, OSC Michael P. McCaffery, was tasked to do the honors of “counterbattery fire.” For all I know, he may have, and it would have been in character, volunteered to formulate and execute the operation to show our appreciation with the breaking of the status quo at the piers.

The “game rules” for conducting a Z-5-O were roughly thus:

• Three attempts were to be made within the time frame in the tasking letter;
• Real military identification cards could not be used;
• If asked “Are you and intruder?”, the “intruder” had to respond truthfully;
• Copies of military IDs could be used (meaning from the Xerox machine).

A long discussion could launch from this point about how agents of the KGB would never dare to use real stolen ID blanks to try to get access to a ship, that they, too, only had the technology of SAVIN or Xerox to make up false papers for doing their dirty work. On top of that, it was a well known fact that all foreign agents would tell you right away, when specifically questioned, that they were up to the business of stealing military secrets (If only Jack Bauer had known this, it would have saved several presidents lots of international embarrassment).

So…one day, the Operations Officer, LCDR Frank Mueller, presented a letter from the squadron to me. Subject? Yes, you guessed it: Tasking to conduct a Z-5-O on the USS SEATTLE (AOE-3).

You’ll have to come back next Wednesday for more (and not the rest) of the story…

Last post on the topic…

The roots of the Combat System Training Teams (CSTT) grew from the Engineering Casualty Control and Damage Control Training Teams (ECCTT/DCTT), where were put in place in the mid-late 70s in response to the poor maintenance condition of the ships in the later part and post- Vietnam War era. There, the standing up of the Propulsion Examination Boards (PEBs) in the Atlantic and Pacific Fleets, required a ship have an organic training capability. As best I can figure, this came from a philosphy that while an individual crew/watch team might perform well today, was there a reasonable expectation it would do so tomorrow, a month or a year from now. I can further speculate, but I never read anything that would connect this next set of dots, that the PEB and the inspections they performed, the Light Off Exam (LOE) and the Operational Propulsion Plant Exam (OPPE) had been “lifted” from the Nuclear Navy’s rigorous system of ensuring the safety of those operations.

The processes of the CSTT modeled the ECCTT/DCTT ones, which, as I discussed some time back, was a result of professional plagiarism, in a good way. One of the significant parts of the training scenarios is to plan for possible safety problems and then make sure the training team members are knowledgeable about the systems and able to step in and stop the drill if such a problem arises. Sometimes, separate safety observers were stationed to specifically watch for problems, while the main training team members are running the drills, or observing the crew’s operations.

During the pre-brief for the drills, the CSTT procedures required detailed discussions of the simulations and variations for real operations, and the safety concerns. Before the drills ran, the CSTT was to walk through the spaces and check to general safety status of the area, as well as to check particular equipment settings. The final reports to the CSTT team leader required “all safety checks completed” before the training scenario would commence.

This set of procedures may have rendered this thread of posting completely moot, had there been a CSTT established, qualified and trained aboard SARATOGA that night….

to be continued…

Open trackbacks! Now, if I could just get comments working…if you have one, email it until I can get the background issues cleared up. I’m sure I can kludge it in when I get it….

So, post your work here!

Sea stories?? Yes…it will be here in a few hours…busy day here…it also will be in the “Australian” theme of the previous two weeks….UPDATE: Here is the promised story

I had a Royal Australian Naval Officer, LCDR Kim Bailey-Jones, as my project officer for the PERRY Class FFG Combat Direction Systems computer program. This was a standing exchange billet, as the RAN had 4 FFGs in their fleet and cost shared in the maintenance and upgrades for the program.

Money was getting tight in the 1994-95 time frame for the military in general, and we regularly received calls from the main program sponsor, Program executive Officer – Theater Air Defense (PEO-TAD) to recall funds from the authorized “SEATASK.” On most occasions, I was asked to respond with how to we might absorb a $1.1M cut (for an overall funding line of $11M) for the various PEO-TAD projects covered. LCDR Jones sat down and sharpened his pencil and typing effort in a spreadsheet, so as to make his point in the upcoming Quarterly Progress Review to our TAD sponsors.

As we were gathered in the large command auditorium, and it was LCDR Jone’s turn to review his project’s status. He got to his budgeting slide and said: “If you can’t give me this much, then just cancel the program and save the money (which was several million).” Of course, he has pre-briefed the “bombshell” up the chain of command and had approval to say such a thing.

Bottom line, the expertise required to safely and responsibly maintain the program needed 4 discrete fields of expertise, and his bottom line funding line represented the barest of funds to keep those four people on staff for such work. Well, the PEO Rep, an Engineering Duty Captain certainly was taken back, but, when Kim made his case, his logic was infallible and there really wasn’t much to be said, but just to note the amount of funding that must remain in place if the FFG-7 Class was to stay at sea.

Oh, I had a Canadian Armed Force officer on staff, too….

The ramp up to the mission of making sure our ships could safely employ a major weapons system, in this case NATO Sea Sparrow System (NSSMS), was not as difficult as it would seem, but it certainly required a multi-faceted approach. For almost three years, I had been assigned to inspect the combat systems readiness of the Atlantic Fleet’s surface force. That meant, for those not familiar with the “ownership” of ships in the Navy, all ships, except aircraft carriers (those belong to the commanders of the naval air forces in the Atlantic and Pacific areas – COMNAVAIRLANT, in my case), and the ships directly related to supporting submarines, those being the submarine tenders (AS) and submarine rescue ships (ASR). Any other ship belonged to Commander, Naval Surface Forces, Atlantic (COMNAVSURFLANT). If “it” had a weapons system more complex than a M2 .50 caliber machine gun on a tripod mount, then the ship required an annual Combat Systems Assessment (CSA) (which began in the late 1980s, but were canceled sometime in 1994 or 1995 – but that’s another piece of history for another time).

The foundation of the NATO Sea Sparrow readiness inspections in the aftermath of this incident came from the existing CSA check sheets, which had been in development for several years at this point. Prior to April, 1990, the Atlantic Fleet CSA procedures had been put together by training teams, which not only were tasked to do the fleet training, but also the CSAs. In April that year, a new department within the NAVSURFLANT Combat Systems Mobile Training Team (CSMTT) was established and manned. A complete review of every existing check sheet began, ensuring the listed standards were from an official document, and not from “It’s a great idea, because I did in on USS LAST SHIP” files. In addition to the scrub, the located reference, to the page or paragraph, was inserted as part of the inspectable point.

Those check sheets, for the administrative areas of training, Combat Systems Training Team (CSTT), Personnel Qualification System (PQS), Explosives Handling Qualification/Certification Program (EHPQCP), Battle Orders, watch bills, and safety (those I know for sure, but probably a few more, too), as well as grading criteria for setting up, executing and debriefing a battle scenario using the NSSMS were all tossed into the package for review by the Pacific Fleet counterparts and Commander in Chief, Atlantic Fleet (CINCLANTFLT) staff. The advantage was the check sheets had been in use for a few years at this point, and had always been made available to the Fleet. The CSTT drill procedures had been around for some time, but had not been widely enforced, as the Engineering Department versions in the form of the Engineering Casualty Control and Damage Control Training Teams (ECCTT/DCTT) had been since the post-Vietnam era via the Operational Propulsion Plant Exam (OPPE) requirements. In mid 1991, the CSA process was revised, and a major “go/no go” pass/fail criteria was the established CSTT by command letter, which elevated the emphasis on the use of internal “experts” to be able to keep the crew up-to-date on procedures, as well as providing an on the job training path to induct new crewmen into the teams in place.

Why is the discussion of the CSTT important in this history? Once the CSMTT and the Fleet Training Groups took up the issue of ensuring a CSTT on surface force ships was established, had scenarios, were qualified and had a training plan process, the trainees could receive more realistic training, as the safety aspects of the running the scenarios was paramount in the set up, debriefing and execution of the drills. The COMNAVSURFLANT instructions and Training and Readiness manuals (TREADMAN) on the CSTT were revised to reflect current operations and then it was trained to. COMNAVAIRLANT did not have any requirements on the books to have the CVs stand up and maintain a CSTT. This key process in conducting training became a factor, very directly, in the events of the night of October 2nd, 1992.

to be continued….

Last October, I put up the “teaser post.” About this time in 1993, Capt Phil Balisle (now Admiral) came into my office and informed me I would be detailed to lead a team for Commander, Atlantic Fleet, to validate all Atlantic Fleet units properly under stood the safe employment of the NATO Sea Sparrow systems aboard their ships. The Pacific Fleet would have a team visiting their vessels, and we would work from a common set of checksheets during the course of the follow up to the investigation of the incident. I was given, from Commander Naval Air Forces, Atlantic, LCDR Don Diehl, from the Guided Missile School at Dam Neck, FTCS Goss, and from my own command, FTC Dann, and told to get to work.

The requirement levied upon us was to go to each ship, except those in such operational status that they could not show us the system, as was the case for the USS O’BANNON (DD-989), and ensure the men standing the watches were school/PQS/OJT on paper qualified, and, by practical demonstration, knowledgeable in actual operations of a simulated engagement in a training scenario.

Having already having spent some energy over the prior two years standardizing Combat Systems Assessments (CSAs) with the West Coast CSA Team, some ground work was already done, so the agreement on the plan for the standard inspection clicked quickly.

I read the report from, I believe Admiral Cebrowski, and the executive summary had some chilling words (I believe I recall them accurately):

Unfortunately, the system (NATO Sea Sparrow) worked exactly as designed.

That set the tone for where the deficiency was that turned that night into one so many would like to have gotten a “do over” card for: The people screwed up. All too often, that is the case in the course of operations. Equipment: “CHECK!” People: “Hold on, we have a problem.”

In the first few days of my assignment to this tasking, I attended a meeting set up by Commander, Air Forces, Atlantic (AIRLANT), where a large group of aviators were to determine just how many switch operations, cover lifts, or button pushes were required to get each of the weapons off any aircraft in the inventory. I think one pilot briefed than in an A-6E, it took 82 separate things to launch a Harpoon Anti-Ship Missile. So, there was sat, all morning, and after lunch, started up again. Finally, one aviator sitting at the table in front of me (I was the “shoe” in the room, so I took a cheap seat along the wall), out of frustration, made this salient comment:

If that man thinks he has permission to shoot, it doesn’t matter how many things he has to do, he’s going to launch that weapon.

The heads, mostly fighting to stay awake after hours of laboriously presented technical details, nodded in agreement. The meeting, didn’t last too much longer, for the primary point had been made by that statement. Unfortunately, as I came to understand more of the details of that night, this aviator was more correct than I would know at the time…..

More later…

Last week, a “nickel back” story, and this week, more stories about “Aussies.”

In the meantime, feel free to track back (except for spammers…)

So, there I was with a ship load of Aussies in training. They were, more so than most ship’s crews for our FFGs, really far from home.

So, if you head down to the club with the Aussies, they have a particular cultural behavior to promote equanimity between those in attendance. It’s considered polite for buy drinks in “rounds.” After all, you are at the club, to tell “sea stories” but….well, to drink.

In Aussie-speak, they call a round of drinks for your group a “shout.” So, the “shouts” begin. Not a big deal, but there is another rule: Everyone buys a shout. Ok, makes sense. Now the third rule: You stay to have a shout from everyone. To even put your cash on the bar and make sure there’s enough for your social obligation, then say your goodbyes is *not* acceptable.

Lessons learned the hard way (called in hard gained wisdom): Never go drinking with more Aussies than the number of drinks you want (can) drink in that setting….

January 20th, 1981… some Americans were freed, just in case you forgot about the day 444 days of captivity disgraced our nation, when the President refused to respond to the attack on the soil of America.

Now he’s acting like he’s some kind of hero from first facilitating the ascendancy to power, then backing down from them right away.

A Navy Aviator, then a Commander in rank, was sent to Iran, as the storm was brewing…to “advise” our allies in the Iranian Air Force, to whom we had sold the F-14 Tomcat to. It seems his job was to inspect each of their aircraft and make sure the capability to employ the AIM-54 Phoenix as disabled. He did that, and then was the guest of Amadinerjacket and company for over a year.

I knew this man when he was the Chief of Staff for Commander, Cruiser-Destroyer Group TWO (CCDG2) in 1988-89, by then the rank of Captain.

Thank you, Capt Sharer for your service so many years ago.

It’s that time again! Post ’em if you got ’em…

Now…the “Sea Story” for the week: “The Original ‘Nickel Back'” or: “How to make civil servant cringe.”

Besides building a lot of FFG-7 Class frigates for us, we also made two for the Aussies; Two w/o LAMPS MK III helicopter capable and two with. Being the officer in charge of training for our non-LAMPS MK III vessels, my office had the pleasure of hosting the crews of the FFG-01 and -02. -01 was there before I reported, but the crew of the ADELAIDE (FFG-02) arrived during my “watch.”

There are funds set aside to show some hospitality to long term foreign visitors (in this case the course was 4 weeks long) and I was informed I could arrange for a visit to the Williamsburg Busch Gardens facility for our Australians. I was also tasked to provide “chaperones” from my staff, and this could include their spouses/girl friends. I forget the ratio, but it was enough for a few of us to tag along on the taxpayers kindness.

Anyhow, I was supplied with the cash to purchase the tickets and pay for some other minor approved charges. We went, we had a great time. The guests of the taxpayer being “english” speaking didn’t require a lot of close supervision, so it certainly wasn’t a strenuous day by any means.

So, on Monday morning, I dutifully added up the receipts for the visit and balanced it against the cash provided. I had a expended all but 5 cents…..I went to Disbursing in the Administrative building at lunch and handed my records and the nickel to the lady civil servant responsible for accounting. She looked at me and said “loose the nickel.” I looked back at her and said “I only have receipts for all but the nickel. Here it is.” Her reply was something like “do you know how much trouble it is to put that 5 cents back into the systems?” and I responded something to the effect that it was a less effort than us both getting hammered for loosing Government money.” and I left.

I know a nickel isn’t much, but it sure wasn’t mine and I had no paperwork to chase it away with, so she got to do the paperwork to put the nickel back in the taxpayers’ account.

Interesting day in military history….“Broken Arrow:” Not the words you want to hear when you’re have the watch…

In 1966, over the Mediterranean Ocean, a B-52 collided with a KC-135 tanker and crashed into the sea, losing it’s nukes…

From the History Channel site:

On this day, a B-52 bomber collides with a KC-135 jet tanker over Spain’s Mediterranean coast, dropping three 70-kiloton hydrogen bombs near the town of Palomares and one in the sea. It was not the first or last accident involving American nuclear bombs.

As a means of maintaining first-strike capability during the Cold War, U.S. bombers laden with nuclear weapons circled the earth ceaselessly for decades. In a military operation of this magnitude, it was inevitable that accidents would occur. The Pentagon admits to more than three-dozen accidents in which bombers either crashed or caught fire on the runway, resulting in nuclear contamination from a damaged or destroyed bomb and/or the loss of a nuclear weapon. One of the only “Broken Arrows” to receive widespread publicity occurred on January 17, 1966, when a B-52 bomber crashed into a KC-135 jet tanker over Spain.

Besides showing some of what we did during the Cold War to ensure we were ready to respond to support “MAD,”, this story also involved a man who recently passed away. BMCM(DV) Carl Brashear, USN lost his leg while conducting the salvage operation for the bomb sitting underwater.

In January 1966, a hydrogen bomb was lost off the coast of Palomares, Spain after two U.S. Air Force planes collided during a refueling attempt. The Navy was called in to find and recover the bomb; and after 2-1/2 months of searching, the bomb was found. On March 23, 1966, during recovery operations, a line used for towing broke lose, causing a pipe to strike Brashear’s left leg below the knee, nearly shearing it off. He was evacuated to Torrejon Air Base in Spain, then to Wiesbaden, Germany; and finally to the Naval Hospital in Portsmouth, Virginia. After persistent infections and necrosis, and facing years of recovery, Brashear convinced his doctors to amputate the lower portion of his leg.

Brashear remained at the Naval Regional Medical Center in Portsmouth from May 1966 until March 1967 recovering and rehabilitating from the amputations. From March 1967 to March 1968, Senior Chief Brashear was assigned to the Harbor Clearance Unit Two, Diving School, preparing for return to full active duty and diving. In April 1968, after a long struggle, he became the first amputee to be certified as a diver. In 1970, he became the first African-American U.S. Navy Master Diver, and served 10 more years beyond that, eventually achieving the rate of Master Chief Boatswain’s Mate in 1971.

Carl’s life story, mostly centered on his struggle in a recently integrated Navy to become a Navy Diver, was dramatically told in the movie “Men of Honor.” Master Chief Brashear passed away last year, after living an inspiring life.

I had the pleasure of reading and interview with the Master Chief, available from the U.S. Naval Institute, and he was a quite a man. He certainly saw everyone as a person and made a point to treat everyone fairly, and on top of that, he regularly deflected praise from his interviewer. It’s a good read.

From the Submarine Force Museum NAUTILUS history page:

On the morning of January 17, 1955, at 11 am EST, NAUTILUS’ first Commanding Officer, Commander Eugene P. Wilkinson, USN, ordered all lines cast off and signaled the memorable and historic message, “Underway On Nuclear Power.” Over the next several years, NAUTILUS shattered all submerged speed and distance records.

She is now resting as at the Submarine Force Museum in Groton, CT. Was a “Class Ship,” set a lot of records and steamed over 513K miles during her service….

I can’t believe I scooped Chap and Bubblehead on this submarine force history story….