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Sea story of the week:

I first heard of, not by name, but by association, GSGS(SW) John “JC” Weigman, USN in the summer of 1983. I was a student at Surface Warfare Officer Department Head course, nearing completion of the 6 month school. By now, I was in the Engineering Specialty portion of the curriculum, having been detailed to be the Engineer Officer on USS CONOLLY (DD-979). There were ten of us in the class, taught by LCDR Alex Watt, sitting in two rows of chairs, 5 abreast, all destined to be in charge of SPRUANCE Class destroyer engineering plants. It was the last day of this part of the school, and Alex had gathered the current status of our ships, so we’d have an idea where they were in the training/inspection/deployment cycle. He began the class with some “good news” for one of us (I can’t recall what it was or who it was for) and “bad news” for one of us. He announced one of the ships rated several GS (Gas Turbine Specialist) Chief Petty Officers, but there was only one aboard.

Alex worked his way across the front row and then got to me in the center of the back row. He began the status of my upcoming assignment by saying “It’s you.” Great. Never wanted to be a “snipe,” had asked to be anything but a snipe, but I got to be a snipe, and then I was going to be shorthanded…..There’s about 2-3 more sea stories in that last comment, but later….

I arrive aboard the ship in Puerto Mont, Chile, having flown from Norfolk via Miami. GSMC(SW) Weigman is my leading enlisted man in the department. He began his career as an EN (Engineman) and had plenty of stories to tell, in particular, he was involved in the evaluation of the SeaFox SEAL patrol craft, which made for some good conversation late at night on watch. He converted to the GS rate when there was the massive build up of DDs and FFGs was at it’s peak in the early 80s, which was a great career move.

Supporting JC were GSM1 Graham, GSE1 Denny Rohr, GSE2 Walter Hook, GSM2 Belcher, GSM2 Shipley, GSM2 Roberge, GSM2 Dewberry and more I can’t recall right now, but…he was in fact the only Chief I had in the “M” (Main Probulsion) Division, led by LT Al Curry.

JC was more than a match for the task. He was a sailor and not a snipe first. His goal was always to make sure the Ship was cared for and running well. If that meant playing second fiddle in the priorities for some “upper deck” stuff, he was on board, and he was sending help as needed. He also instilled this in those in the entire Engineering Department. On the other hand, if there was a tie to be broken, he’d make sure, in the “Goat Locker” or in talks with the CO (CDR Harry Maxiner) that the snipes would get the best deal.

One of the ways he was so successful, and the point of this sea story is: When someone told him something couldn’t be done, or it had to be done some way that didn’t make sense, he’d go and seek out the guidance and self-educate. I know he took both the PN (Personnelman) and YN (Yeoman) rate correspondence courses (required for advancement in those rates), and I believe he also sat down and worked his way through the DK (Disbursing Clerk) material as well. The entire point was to know as much of their jobs as they knew. On many occasions, he found out the people had told him something wrong, or contradictory to the way things were to be done. He wanted to know what was right, and if you wouldn’t tell him, he’d go to the book, your book, then come back and quote it to you.

He did this with everything he worked with. He was an incredibly capable amn, and even though I was short two more Chiefs in the Main Propulsion area, he outdid any ten other chiefs I worked with, except three, who were cut from the same cloth, and I ran into them years later.

One particular area, where he used this process of doing things right was with the “Critical Gauge” program. Aboard the ship were hundreds of gauges and sensing devices that required periodic calibration. There were established “METCAL” teams of civil servants and contractors, who would come to the ship and go through and validate the accuracy (or repair/replace) every one of them. JC read the instruction and it said the critical gauge list was designated by the Commanding Officer, and the shore based support teams would check against the list of meter cards (one record for each gauge/sensor) listed by the Ship’s Company. JC wnet about making sure that every gauge was covered. He listed gauges in the ASROC heating and cooling system, in the electronic chilled water piping system, etc, etc, etc. Hydraulic meters and gauges in the 5’/54 guns were also included.

When we returned from the UNITAS deployment, the METCAL team paid us a call. The looked at this foot high stack of the meter card printouts and told JC (who was in charge of the program) that they only did engineering related gauges. He stared them down and told them the heating and cooling systems for the ordnance magazines were just as critical as the vibration transducers on the gas turbine engines and….futhermore, this was the Commanding Officer’s designated list, per the instruction and they were going to check them all. He was right on both counts. They left and started calling around. Net result, they did most of the work we handed them, but not all of it.

The net result of one man, shorthanded and all, was this: The METCAL team and their handlers successfully maneuvered to get the instruction changed, so the Squadron Commander would designate the “critical gauges.” That wasn’t the answer. The METCAL people needed to see he had a very valid point, and they needed to plus up their teams to cover more work aboard the ships during their visits.

So, the moral of the story is: If you do your homework, and learn what the other guy is supposed to be doing, you get a lot of work done, but sometimes, others will find an end around to keep from doing the work.

JC also took on the existing lube oil analysis program and if I recall correctly, he got them to change to a better method of detecting contaminants in the samples sent out to the labs, which helped in early detection of problems, and therefore ssaved taxpayer dollars.

By the time I departed CONOLLY, JC had made Senior Chief Petty Officer, and all of the other people I listed above added another paygrade to their sleeves/collars.

As far as not wanting the job? Well, it was one of the most rewarding tours I had. I credit a lot of sailors who didn’t want me to screw up for making me look good in that job. They are subjects of future sea stories, for they all have lessons and tales of their own.

I know…a day late…I can make excuses, but not worth it.

I believe the other blog is gone, banished to digital nothingness by a hosting firm who wanted more money than this one did…

For this day, a blast from the past: “We don’t have enough fuel to reach Africa”, a true story of too much desire for liberty in Brazil, not enough advance planning and two ships (neither one of them a logistics type vessel) somewhere in the South Atlantic.

Enjoy! (and post your trackbacks!)

Freefire zone! Trackbacks (may show up as “pingbacks,” but they still show up! I think it’s a WordPress 2.1X issue…)

Last week, the conclusion of Episode 1 of Chief Mac stomps the “competition.”

This week, more of the same. If you’re “behind the power curve,” go back two weeks and catch up….I think it’s a great sea story, but it’s told in parts…

With the tenor of camaraderie between various vessels of COMSERVRON TWO having taken a turn towards more “active rivalry,” we received another tasker to conduct an intrusion drill (Z-5-O) against the USS SYLVANNIA (AFS-2). Chief Mac took this one one, too.

The Plan: Send the exercise tested ET2 Krutsch to get by the Quarterdeck watch, once more disguised as a Navy Exchange employee bearing delivery items. One other would be the following “distractor” to inject some confusion so Mike could escape the controlled environs of the entry point of the vessel to do his mischief.

This time the “delivery item” to cause attentive watch standers was one actual birthday cake, to be delivered to the Commanding Officer, CAPT Otto Will, USN. As with the prior event (I’m sure you have gone back and caught up by now), the Chief purchased the cake and a birthday card, complete with a birthday greeting inscribed on the top of the cake, visible through the clear plastic top of the cake box, real name and all….

Mike heads off, in his civvies and hair and beard/moustache pushing the envelope of “well groomed” and climbs the ladder. On arrival, he indicates he has a cake to deliver to a Captain Otto Will for his birthday. Of course he did his best to not act clued in as to the identity of the Ship’s CO….he stood off to the side of the Quarterdeck area, as directed (but not yet asked for an ID of any sort, nor questioned as to if he might be an intruder). About this time, of course, OS1 Blazak mounted the Quarterdeck, requesting permission to come aboard. His “mission” was to find the leading operations specialist to “borrow” some charts. As it turned out, the Officer of the Deck knew OS1, so he played it off as just looking for some info, but…the personall knowledge of who he was ruled him out as being able to be a bad guy for the drill purposes. However, it allowed cover for Mike to head inboard and begin he search for the CO’s Inport Cabin.

He wandered into the deckhouse and central area of the ship, and then to the outbaord side of the main deck. He didn’t know exactly where it was, so he took a chance and asked a sailor where the Captain’s cabin was. At first, he thought he was being led back to the Quarterdeck and the drill would be over, but he was delivered to the Captain’s door and the sailoer knocked, opened the door and announced a visitor the to Captain, who was talking to a Commander and a Master Chief Petty Officer.

Mike was invited in, saying he had a birthday cake for a Captain Will. As most people would be under such circumstances as this the Co was curious as to how this had become his birthday. He looked puzzled, but invited Mike in. Mike set the box on his desk and handed him the birthday card. Capt Will took the card out of the envelope, opened it and proceeded to read.

About this time the smiles began spreading on the faces of the Commander and Master Chief, who were debriefing a human resources assessment training of the ship, so they were not ship’s company, but knew “the drill” all too well (and I’m sure they were also relieved not to be ship’s company right about then). The Master Chief said: “Captain, I think you should read the back of the card.” There, as he closed it and scanned the handwriting on the back of the card, he read “This is a bomb!”

Might I just say Mike indicated Captain Will was not amused. But, on top of the card indicating the future failing grade from the Sqaurdon Commander. But, as Chief Mac had a humorous side, when he had the cake decorated, aroound the sides, in scrolled icing was the inscription “Tick*Tick*Tick.”

And so ends the tale of the days when the gentleman’s approach to “running drills” on each other in the Fat Ship Navy took a turn for the better, or worse, depending on which side of the grade sheet you were on.

C’mon….someone must be writing good material out there…..

Anyhow, while I’m waiting, here’s more of the story I left you hanging with from last week…

Now, the tables had turned and it was going to be the crew of the USS SEATTLE (AOE-3) that would be holding the other end stick during an intrusion drill. Not to fear, OSC Mac, who had done some work with the SEALs in the South East Asian War Games, was in control. I was still and Ensign in training, so I didn’t comprehend all that was going on. Anyway, the Chief concocted a wonderful plan. Step one was to get three believable “intruders.”

• #1: ET2 Mike Krutsch. Disguise? Jeans, flannel shirt, hair pushing the regs. Story? Navy Exchange delivery guy with flowers for the SEATTLE XO.
• #2: OS3 Tom Mazzula. Disguise? Not really, he just wore his dungarees, but…he had a plastic baggie of “green vegetable matter” partially hanging out of his pocket.
• #3: OS2 Relph (I’m not completely sure I have this one right). No disguise either, and nothing special in hand/on his person.

“The Plan:” ET2, with a 3″x5″ card made black with magic marker, covering his red base sticker on the bumper of his personal Vega, drives down the pier (you actually could do that in those days), parking at the foot of the brow. Using his “excuse” of having to deliver the flowers, he would attempt to gain access to the ship. OS3 would, as soon as Mike got almost all the way up the ladder (about 30 feet long), would commence towards the quarterdeck, acting stoned/drunk. As he got the the top of the brow, OS2 Relph would also head aboard the ship. Saturation of the attention of the three watchstanders was the plan, in hopes of getting at least one past the security of the ship.

Well…the results were in quickly, once the “Plan” was put into motion….Krutsch parked right at the foot of the ladder and was hailed from the Quaterdeck. He replied he had flowers (Holding the box high) (oh, yeah, Chief Mac paid for the flowers), and was waved to come up. They never asked for any identification, but then a guy looking kinda drunk was coming up the ladder just now. All attention focused on Mazzula. Mike stood by, then quietly wandered aft on the main deck area and proceed to head for the after superstructure area, where the Executive Officer’s stateroom was. IN the background, imagine the hoots and hollers of the OOD, POOW and Messenger when they “caught a doper!” red-handed….Oh…OS2 Relph came up just as the commotion was in full swing and, not being fully questioned, inquired as to what happened. “WE just caught this guy!” (Holding up baggy of green vegetable matter as proof of the valiant response. Relph siddled off to the side, out of the gaze of the watchstanders….

Oh, yes…I almost forgot. SEATTLE was one of those ships that we could not confirm or deny the presence of nuclear weapons aboard. Why does that matter? You had to have two response teams on call, the Security Alert Team (SAT) and Backup Alert Force (BAF), who would “respond to intrusion attempts and were 1) armed and 2) trained specifically in the use of “lethal force” rules of engagement (ROE).

Mike Krutsch made it to the XO’s office/stateroom and, finding no one in the space, left the box of flowers (with included note “THIS IS A BOMB”) on the desk of the Executive Officer of the USS SEATTLE (AOE-3), having never been challenged by any of the crew on his way through the ship, looking like a civilian or over scruffy sailor in “civies.” He then wandered back to the Quarterdeck area, at which time, the faces of the watch team went white, realizing they had been penetrated in a most unkind manner. “SECURITY ALERT! SECURITY ALERT! QUARTERDECK! AWAY THE SAT! AWAY THE BAF!” sounded on the 1MC General Announcing System. Mike, all grins, when asked if he was an intruder, answer “Yes” (the game rules) and then, realizing, as armed sailors came running, there was someone else unaccounted for…..

“Are you working alone?” “No.” “SECURITY ALERT! SECURITY ALERT!…” They finally found OS2 Relph in the forward part of the ship, where he had wandered off to.

Well, they were mightily embarrassed at being humiliated, but…it was nothing more than payback, with attitude. The Command Duty Officer was obligated to sign three Z-5-O letters, with two having to be indicated that they had been penetrated and failed the drill…..And, our manliness was feeling more intact, having paid the SEATTLE crew back in spades…

Oh, Chief Mac didn’t just roll over and go back to sleep after this operation….come back next Wednesday for the follow on report of sailors in port running drills.

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….

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.

Post your stuff here!

Chief “Mac,” my “Sea Daddy” said (while the stub of his cigar never left being clenched between his teeth) these things about pistol usage:

• “You have to put 50 rounds down range a day” (to stay proficient – he believed a 1911 .45 should feel just like another part of your body)
• “You always shoot twice. Once to get him, the second to make sure. Any fewer rounds is stupid, any more is a waste.”

Wisdom…it comes in many forms.

A wee bit late for the sun passing over the yardarm, but here nonetheless….post your good stuff!

My sea story? In a word….Seabats. I know, you think I’m pulling your legs, but…RADM Bernsen has seen ’em….and so has this guy. Today is your day to tell me how you can connect the dots.

And when you have that assignment completed, tell me about your seabat experiences….

It’s Wednesday again! Hope everyone had a great holiday season. Post your trackbacks, maybe someone will discover you here.

“Sea Story” of the day:

I had a “paper brain” that lived in my hands, being perused for the many items to be done and their status, or safely in my right seat pocket, with my wallet, which will further convey it’s relative importance. If was a 5″x8″ Day Timer with a leather cover and, believe me, it was well used in my XO days.

One day, somehow, I became “separated” from my separate memory. I believe it was after the end of a Planning Board for Training (PB4T) (held at 1300 on Thursdays weekly) while at sea on deployment. The anxiety level rose, but it was a busy day, and, after all, it couldn’t be over 453′ from me, unless it went for a swim…

It didn’t take long before an envelope was delivered to me by a watch messenger. It certainly didn’t appear that the wandering was enclosed, but, upon opening the message, I found two Polaroid pictures of said Day Timer. Both showed my almost sole source of recollection secured to a chair with the small nylon line used for the underway replenishment shot lines, and in one picture, a black gloved hand held a 1911A1 .45 caliber pistol, pointed at the Day Timer. Enclosed was a note, with some demand, beginning with “If you want to see your Day Timer alive again…”, yet, I had the Mater-at-Arms force on my side, so I chose to disregard any show of weakness.

Short moments later, the MA1 had dusted the pictures for fingerprints and, lo and behold, the miscreants had been careless, leaving their positive identification in my hands. The guilty parties were summoned to my stateroom and confronted, at which time, the leader of the pack handed over the missing collection of all tickler items to me. Chaos was fought back and the World restored to a right order.

You know, it gets boring at sea and the practical jokes sometimes get quite entertaining…..Somewhere, in a box in the attic is a set of Polaroid pictures, secured, after being used as evidence, for historical purposes.

So, there I was, flat on my back at 20,000 feet…no kiddin’…oops…wrong story and me without the obligatory huge watch (to compensate, ya know), but…it’s open season on trackbacks, so link ’em up!

Last week, I left me “on station” at the gunfire support range at San Celmente, Island, by way of discussion the continualy noise that surrounds you while abaord a ship.

So as it was training, within minutes of checking in on the radio net after maneuvering into the assigned gunnery “box,” of course the observer ahsore had targets for us…”Fire Mission! Troops in the Open! Grid: ….” and so the formatted message went, telling us what, where and some other important details. The plotters surrounding me went to work locating the spot he was adressing, marking our position on the chart and “ded reckoning” (simple time/speed/distance calculation) to show our predicted path of the ship. Once we had the target location plotted, we’d measure the azimuth to the target from the ship’s track and compare that to where the gunfire control system (GFCS) had figured (with its own computer) where the target was. We had to be within a degree of difference, or we’d have to replot and check, which burned valuable time ashore and specifically in the target’s area.

On top of the comparison to the GFCS plot, we also checked with the Ship’s Navigator to make sure his plot tracked with ours. It’s all about accuracy and speed within that. The Gunnery Officer would order the guns loaded and I would announce “plot set!’ if all the navigation data (three separate plots) were within the allowed tolerances. Our readiness would be reported to the spotter, who would give us final clearance to shoot. Usually he would have us fire a single round to see where it landed, then he would pass directions to “adjust the spot, by his best reckoing, to make the next round land on target. Back then the “Mk 1 Mod 0” eyeball and the operator’s calibration were the means of doing this. Today we have fancy laser stuff to tell the observer the distances, accurate to very small distances.

So…when the radio told us to shoot, it was my responsibility to send a standard order to the Gunnery Officer, who would relay it to the gun crew and the gun control console (GCC) operator, who would step on a foot pedal to fire the gun.

In this sequence, I would come to learn the timing from the moment I gave the order to shoot to the time the round was on it’s way. The thumping of the electrohydraulic ammo hoists and the operation of the loader tray and ram, followed by the slamming shut of the large steel breech block became familiar to me, so when we got to exercises requiring rounds to arrive on a target at a specific time, I was able to time my order so the computed time of flight for the rounds was essentially what was measured from the actual shot leaving the barrel. The “latency” was all

As I meantioned last week, the operation of the guns, whether they be the forward or after gun mount, was detectable where I stood in CIC, in the darkened space with dungaree clad sailors and khaki clad chief petty officers and officers, while I learned a deadly trade.

Maybe more specifics next week…but…that’s the short form and worthy of not interfering too much with essential afternoon shopping runs for those of us late present determiners….