![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/08\/081422-1.jpg\")
<\/p>\nAuthor’s Note: The current Hospital Stint is lurching to the end, we hope. The ankle wound feels better, and release may be forthcoming this week. Proof of the ability to return to life on my own is progress on the book about the end of the Cold War. So, in that spirit, there we are this morning in Spain…<\/p>\n
– Vic<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
25 January 1990.<\/p>\n
A very nice day to pull into Spain. I was stuck on the ship all
\nday and it must have been important.<\/p>\n
Got a late morning start after late night conference with Moose
\nand Toad and watching the Sound Of Music. After the bizarre last
\nline period we had a good case of Channel Fever.<\/p>\n
Now unfortunately alarmless, I awoke late the next morning. In
\nfact the only thing that dragged me out of the rack was a TARPS
\nmeeting at 1030 in TFCC that had my interest. We had a nice
\nsmilex; the problem with this thing is the same as it is with
\neverything else. People have to talk to each other to make things
\nhappen. You would think that a bunch of professionals all
\ntrapped inside the same 1000FT Tuna Can wouldn’t have a problem
\nwith that but alas not the case. It is a perpetual problem, one
\nwe beat down and comes back with appalling regularity. We all
\nagree to be better and more communicative people and adjourn the
\nmeeting in a record 37 minutes.<\/p>\n
Wandered down to Planning and made a desultory start on the Mid-cruise
\nIntelligence report. Something was wrong with the picture
\nso I went up on the Roof looked at the azure sky and the harbor.
\nGorgeous day. Made a stern effort and beat back the agoraphobia
\nwhich seems to set in after a couple weeks in the Can. Got ready
\nto run at 1400; listened to loud rock music in the room to build
\nup my latent adrenaline. Then down to the quarterdeck and down
\nthe long skinny brow.<\/p>\n
The brows all always different, since they belong to the port
\nservice where we tie up. This one had stairs covered with planks
\nand distinct quiver when you walk down. I started my rusty muscle
\nmachine up and slowly moved off past the FID and around the
\ncorner and into Spain. Nice run up town. 50 minutes long. Pretty
\nCity in a broken down funky kind of Spanish way. An active
\nrehabilitation program is underway on some belle epoch
\nwarehouses, apparently built for a turn\u00a9of\u00a9the\u00a9century
\nExposition. The concrete features appropriate nautical
\nembellishments and bas relief. Quite pretty and the contrast
\nbetween the untouched and completed buildings quite remarkable.<\/p>\n
I jog uptown for 25 minutes before turning around; that will make
\nsomething shy of an hour and that will be plenty for the first
\nrun in a while. The port area is an eclectic mix of funky grey
\nbuildings, broken concrete and empty holes where trees should
\nhave been. People walking everywhere and frantic traffic. There
\nare already FID sailors in all the sidewalk cafes and I wave as I
\ngo by.<\/p>\n
I return to the ship in good spirits and with a good sweat. I get
\nchanged and it is starting to push 1800. The Liberty meter is
\nrunning and I want to get moving. I stride purposefully to CAG
\nAdmin but to no avail. Moose and Toad are still in khakis,
\nlooking blankly at the TV which is showing the eighteenth rerun
\nof No Way Out. Granted the beginning is pretty exhilarating I
\ncan’t believe it. They are going to wait until 1900 to go out
\nwith the Deputy; I can see that it isn’t going to happen, not on
\nschedule anyway, and I would like to see something else of the
\ntown in a bit of daylight. Accordingly, Lutt-man and I walk away
\nfrom the Staff which is still in the grip of acute agoraphobia.
\nWe bounce off the ship, meet a bunch of the Kitties, grab a map
\nfrom the USO trailer and we are rocking and rolling away from the
\nship in a cab. A split hour later in anarchic traffic and we are
\nsafely ensconced in a little cervecarilla off the Calle Hernan
\nCortez, sipping a cerveca or four. This is the life!<\/p>\n
Later, dinner with DCAG….almost. Instead, we wind up with a
\ncrowd of VF\u00a911 bubbas in an outdoor cafe. We try to call home but
\nlose the battle with a Spanish Telephone. We can’t crack the
\ncode. Back to the ship in order to take an early flight physical.<\/p>\n
26 January.<\/p>\n
Flight physicals at 0730 should be illegal. I can barely see the
\nvision machine, much less what is on line nine.<\/p>\n
Doc Flynn squeezes me in later to complete the physical, complete
\nwith the most memorable of all experiences, the examination of
\nthe prostate gland by digital manipulation of the lower colon
\nfrom the inside. Yuck. I say it’s OK, Doc, just so long as I
\ndon’t feel both your hands on my shoulders….<\/p>\n
I pass and get my upchit enabling me to go flying for the rest of
\nthe cruise.<\/p>\n
Back to CVIC to work on the Mid\u00a9cruise report which I have to
\ncomplete today in order to go to Rota tomorrow. I bustle around
\nand get my orders and wire details together. Two OPNOTES to John
\nHedlund. Add Josh to the team; it’s me, Lutt\u00a9man and Josh going
\nas the CTF\u00a960 Strategic Studies group.<\/p>\n
Finish the report at 1600. Hand that in and go for a shorter jog
\nof about thirty minutes. The are hundreds of Spanish lined up
\ndown on the pier trying to get tours of the Ship. Some dirty
\nurchins try to get me to do something but I don’t understand.<\/p>\n
Dinner with DCAG for real this night and it is wonderful. We have
\none of the best paella’s ever, elegant dining; CAG is expansive;
\nwine flows and we have a wonderful elegant meal. Lutt\u00a9man is
\nconfined to bed trying to beat a cold so he can go to Rota
\ntomorrow. Chop and Doc want to see a little of the town later and
\nso DCAG gives Doc Flynn the car. We bomb around town till about
\nfour in the morning and see all the usual suspects. A wonderful time is had by all.<\/p>\n
We observe a disco where I discover to my surprise that no one
\ndances with anyone anymore. In fact, everyone is simply dancing
\nwith themselves. I surrender and just start doing the frug next
\nto our table. The last song of the night is from Lou Reed. A
\nwonderful evening. I will have to sleep on the airplane tomorrow.<\/p>\n
26 January.<\/p>\n
Which is the airplane from Hell.<\/p>\n
An endless C\u00a9130 ride on jump seats. First stop on the flight to
\nRota is Barcelona; which is in the wrong direction by one hour.
\nWe stand around on the ramp of a Spanish airbase with no
\nairplanes for an hour and a half, watching the Spanish troops
\nwatching us. The lavatory facilities are novel; the urinal in the
\nback of the airplane isn’t connected to anything except a tube
\nthat runs to the bottom of the airplane and out the bottom. A
\nlarger and larger puddle is forming there and I am hoping no one
\nmistakes it for hydraulic fluid….which mechanics often
\ndetermine by smell or taste, I understand.<\/p>\n
A hour and a half later we find out that the MEDEVAC which we
\nstopped to pick up has been trucked to Valencia. We have wasted
\nour time and it looks like we are not going to get to Rota on
\ntime and I am supposed to brief at 1600…<\/p>\n
We saddle up the airplane and the bring the starter cart on line.
\nThe crew chief indicates we have to deliver two guys to Hyere,
\nFrance. We have now traveled about three hundred miles in the
\nwrong direction, we are starving, deaf and stiff from the sling
\nseats on the slow C\u00a9130. The craft is appropriately named the Sky
\nPig. We enjoy French bread, jambon avec frommage sandwiches
\n(Josh is the only one who brought francs on a flight within
\nSpain!) and I see Andrew (Don’t call me Andy) McMullan after we
\nget thrown out of the Operations Building, which a sergeant
\ninforms us is for Frenchmen only. Mac is flying for VR-22, and
\nwent through Denver and the Midway experience with me as an AI
\nbefore getting his wings. Funny world.<\/p>\n
Then three hours of agony into Rota before we can start to
\nprocess our orders, make calls, go to the BOQ, check-in and
\nwonder what the hell we are going to do.<\/p>\n
John Hedlund shows up at the Q and whisks us away to Puerto to
\nmeet the gang. John looks great.<\/p>\n
We meet the gang and tapa hop like crazy through Puerto. Tube
\ntunas, fresh lemon and bread. Delicious. Sherry. Dru and Judy
\nvery nice and relaxed. John’s new wife Natalie is wonderful; very
\ncute and smart as a whip. She loses her engagement ring at one of
\nrestaurants; miraculously it is found on the floor. A
\npotential major bummer is averted.<\/p>\n
We dance some Spanish folk dance at a local club. Lutt-man says
\nhe never saw a Sevillana done with a bunny hop before.<\/p>\n
We finish speaking German at The German Bar at 0200 and go to
\nwork. The town is still jumping. When do these people sleep?<\/p>\n
27 January 1990.<\/p>\n
Up at 0800 to arrive at FOSIF (Fleet Ocean Surveillance Information Facility) at 0900.<\/p>\n
The only things that saves the day is the blessed wonderful free
\nflowing steaming hot shower. We take a base cab to the Fosif and
\nthe watch is ready for us. A large screen display over the watch
\nfloor says:<\/p>\n
“WELCOME Vic Socotra
\nWARRIOR
\nAUTHOR
\nSYCOPHANT”<\/p>\n
Around the wall one of those moving displays is flashing: “BIG
\nGUYS UPDATE: WELCOME VIC, LUTT-MAN AND CTF-60 SPECIAL STUDIES
\nGROUP.” It is great to see the vast taxpayers dollars spent on
\nthe technical miracle of Rota put to good use.<\/p>\n
We give brief; well received. Meetings till the afternoon. Fosif
\nbodies clearly eager to go about their weekends, so we go to
\nexchange and change clothes and go out to the Playa de la Luz to
\nhave a beer and a sandwich and watch the angry grey ocean
\npounding the seawall. Grey day as grim as steel. The wind cuts.
\nWe elect to take a quick nap before John Hedlund picks us up.
\nFirst to the FOSIF to use the phone to call home, everything
\nelse is too hard, and this very nearly is too as they claim my
\ncredit card number is no good.<\/p>\n
Lutt\u00a9man can’t get through at all and Josh gets bummed and
\ndoesn’t even try. The Boys and Jane sound wonderful (Nicky’s
\nvoice has changed a little? The tonsillectomy?) Vi is doing fine
\nand I just want to go home.<\/p>\n
A beer and a snack at the casa Hedlund begins to change the
\nsomewhat pensive mood, then off to a fine dinner at the Bar
\nJamon in Puerto. Natalie wears leather pants and looks great. We
\nbar hop later and get back to the BOQ at a reasonable hour
\n(Puerto is still raging). Showtime for the flight is 0630 and we
\ndo not want to screw this one up.<\/p>\n
28 January 1990.<\/p>\n
It is still way too early but the shower is great; boundless torrents
\nof hot water. We get down to the terminal and are
\nbriefly disconcerted by the troop who isn’t sure he can get us on
\nthe airplane. We make it, though, and after breakfast John
\nreturns our TS brief material from its vault at the FOSIF.<\/p>\n
Against all odds, this flight is a miracle. It takes only an hour
\nand seventeen minutes, versus the twelve it took to get here. We
\nare in a Navy mini\u00a9van, listening to the Doors on the cassette
\nplayer by 1015 and on the ship before 1100. Luttman takes his
\nLladro china to his room (boy do I hate that stuff!). I advise
\nhim he should have bargained for pre\u00a9broken ones and saved
\nhimself a lot of money. I swing by CAG Admin to see if there is
\nany mail.<\/p>\n
Then to Planning, where I see the Captain’s departing port
\nbrief, chat with the Deputy and here about the big demonstration
\nscheduled for later in the day. Then the planners start showing
\nup for the briefs to be given to the SHAPE guys and we work
\nstraight through lunch.<\/p>\n
The 1MC crackles to life and I hear that the brows have been
\nsecured. I assume this means something is going on down on the
\npier and I race up to the flight deck to check it out. I look out
\nat the slate grey skies and I start to walk out but not so fast.
\nThere has been an episode of rock throwing at the fantail and
\nMAA’s are getting everyone off the weather decks and out of
\nsight. I’d hate to miss a good demonstration, so I take a chance
\nand head up to the Flag Bridge. There is no one around except for
\na Master Chief and he doesn’t throw me out so I have a grand view
\nof about 160 people shouting and waving fists and supporting five
\nor six large banners. Six or seven Spanish National Police
\nconfront them from behind the thin rope barrier. The crowd seems
\nmuch bigger than it is because there are literally a couple
\nthousand people down on the pier out for their sunday stroll.<\/p>\n
Things get interesting after about then minutes when a knot of
\nthe protestors break down the rope and begin to march behind one
\nof the banners toward the afterbrow. The cops rush to stop them
\nand then more people surge across the line and then fists fly and
\ntruncheons begin to flail and there is a pretty good brawl going
\non. First chairs and then stanchions and stones are hurled and
\nthe innocent people are fleeing and banners are being ripped
\ndown.<\/p>\n
After a few protestors are clubbed down they run away but reform
\nand the stuff is really flying and they are advancing and the
\ncops are going at the ringleaders and I have a ringside seat for
\nit. Maybe the high point came when a red\u00a9headed girl who had lead
\nthe initial advance tried to punch out one of the cops and was
\nclubbed down as were the two men who came to her assistance. The
\ngirl was dragged by her red hair to a police car. Very colorful.
\n\u2039f\u2039\u00e5Someone set fire to a bundle of cardboard hat boxes (the ship
\nmust have sold about a zillion FID ballcaps to the crowd) and I
\nwatched the media types hunker down behind the little bonfire to
\ntry to shoot the image of the Carrier silhouetted by the flames.
\nA kid picked up one of the banners\u00a9 I think it was one that
\nmentioned Panama (the Spanish had such a wonderful track record
\nin Latin America)\u00a9 and threw it on the little fire. With the
\nexception of a couple more rocks and cops chasing isolated
\nrascals that was it. First riot I had seen since about 1970.
\nInteresting. Then the sunday promenade resumed and the strollers
\nand Moms were back as though nothing had happened.<\/p>\n
Once the cops have arrived in force there doesn’t appear to be
\nmuch chance of further action so its back to work for a few
\nhours.<\/p>\n
My glands are still charged, though. I like this place. Liberty
\nexpires at midnight; DCAG has offered the use of his car if any
\nof the staff wants to go to dinner. Doc Flynn has to make a phone
\ncall home and a small group of hardy souls determine to have a
\nlast dinner and a glass of vino tinto ashore. I make a concerted
\neffort to clean up the madness that is my room and skip into
\njeans and a sport jacket. We rendezvous in Admin after a slight
\ndelay caused by two SPECAT messages only I can pick up from MAIN
\nCOMM. Then off the ship and into the darkness.<\/p>\n
Which is filled by thousands of Spanish, apparently attracted by
\nthe excitement and publicity of the afternoon. They are a
\nfriendly crowd but it is so vast that it is scary. We can’t get
\nthe cars out without inching through the close packed mass of
\nhumanity. What could be so interesting about a simple 1000FT
\nCarrier?<\/p>\n
The traffic jam takes an hour to negotiate. Dinner fades into a
\nseries of wonderful tapas (shrimp, olives, calimari, fried
\npotatoes and garlic mayonnaise) and icy cold Aguilla cervesa. Doc
\nmisses most of it in a near successful attempt to contact the
\nUnited States. After three hours and three thousand pesetas he
\nfinally gets through…..to her answering machine.<\/p>\n
We call it quits at 2230 so we can make curfew and arrive back at
\nthe boat an hour before liberty secures to find that Scooter and
\nMaster Chief Fillosi have succeeded in getting the Super Bowl on
\nShip’s TV. The perfect end to the perfect day, which culminates
\nin the Niners beating the Broncos 55\u00a910. Tomorrow we sortie at
\n0800…….<\/p>\n
29 January.<\/p>\n
Into one of the Monday\u00a9est of Mondays. I get up with Chop about
\n0630 and see CAG at Breakfast. He is less than sanguine about the
\nday because with our customary elan we will be launching our
\nfirst event into the Valencia Traffic Control Area, only ten
\nmiles away from the Palma TCA with only a narrow corridor where
\nwe can avoid the dreaded Flight Violations.<\/p>\n
It is a gross morning. No one remembers how to talk with one
\nanother; conflicting agendas collide in mysterious tasking beyond
\nmortal ken; airplanes are broken and sorties missed through
\nmalevolent intervention; we fail to find an export submarine of
\ninterest; my plan to relieve my watchstanders in SUPPLOT has
\nbeen confounded by devious bureaucrats; a high level delegation
\nof NATO functionaries requires tender care and feeding; the
\nFrench send a Super Etendarde which flies by the ship without
\nbeing intercepted. It is a thoroughly tiresome and disagreeable
\nday.<\/p>\n
On the positive side, I am pleased to discover I have not lost a
\nsingle TOP SECRET message; my inventory is complete and returned
\nto the Staff for their turnover. I suppose even a Monday under
\nthe Valencia TCA has got its positive side.<\/p>\n
Tomorrow we run three separate exercises against three separate
\nnavies, we fly against the westward transiting Kirov Task Force
\nand the SHAPE representatives must be briefed at 0900, the same
\ntime the French delegation arrives. DCAG has to cancel a morning
\nflight in order to accommodate the schedule change and he is
\nracing with the rest of the deployment to make his 1000th trap
\nbefore his flying days are over. This will be his last tour in
\nthe cockpit, and he wants to make the list of immortals before he
\nturns into a desk jockey. I have to find his log book so I track
\nhis progress.<\/p>\n
It could be fun. You never can tell.<\/p>\n
30 January 1990.<\/p>\n
Hit the rack last night by 0300. Up this morning in time for the
\n0800 brief; then preparation for the SHAPE Distinguished
\nVisitors. Had the space waxed and polished and it looked pretty
\ngood. Naturally, there were about fifty things going on at the
\nsame time and I am dragging already.<\/p>\n
This could be a good day because I expect the Admiral will be in
\na good mood. He got the message that he received his second star.
\nHe is now a Rear Admiral Upper Half and entitled to two stars.<\/p>\n
We are operating est of Palma, generally a couple hundred miles
\nsouth of Marseilles. The skies are clear; or appear to be so on
\nthe electronic window. There is a Royal Navy Task Group, the
\nFrench Battle group built around the Carrier Foch and a group of
\nItalians. We are playing games with all of them, and none of it
\nis connected. So we are to run three different strikes and each
\nhas different specifications and pre-exercise messages. The
\nDreadnought Kirov is transiting westerly just to the south
\nof us and we have to lay on a TARPS mission to document her
\nagain. Of particular interest is the TASS news report that she
\nhas suffered a steam casualty and is being recalled to the
\nNorthern Fleet. It reminded me of the old joke about how you
\ncould tell a Northern Fleet Sailor….because they glow in the
\ndark. We see ’em come and we see ’em go.<\/p>\n
Rocco Montesano, Shakey Jake and Bobo Kimmel briefed strikes and
\nAAW stuff to the DV’s and it seems to go well. Except for Shakey,
\nwho is a general embarrassment, lurching in dense Navy slang
\nthrough his plan and patronizing the Danish Major General. We get
\nthem out of the space with seconds to go before the second event
\nbrief. Of some considerable interest is the fact that the
\nprospective skipper of the FID is in the party and he wastes no
\ntime in telling CDR Kirkpatrick that he isn’t sure why that blue
\npaint can is over in the corner and why doesn’t he write AirLant
\na message and tell them that they should upgrade the Strike
\nPlanning Space during the next SRA period?<\/p>\n
If CAPT Thomassy knew I am fairly confident he would have a nice
\nchat with the good P\u00a9CO. I wind up doing some of the tasking
\nwhich flies over at CAG, and then answer a screwed up Program
\nChange message from JCS. I am running on empty by that time.<\/p>\n
After lunch I am convinced my sleep quota is used up and I
\nexercise the option to stand the General Quarters drill
\nhorizontal in my rack. Refreshed, I manage to get through the
\nrest of the flight schedule and the three or four crash messages
\nI have to draft responses to. It is only a six event day, which
\nwould normally mean an early end to the cacophony. Not to be. We
\nmanage to flail around with some of the day’s loose ends, like
\nwhy the Italians didn’t want Sweetpea to fly the Sardinia Low
\nLevel until about 2200 and I really hoped the day was pretty much
\nover when DCAG rolled in and began planning the next joint war-at-sea
\nstrike for tomorrow morning at 0800 sharp which we hadn’t
\nquite got to yet.<\/p>\n
No sense rushing into these things, so we did that for a while
\nand finally had the operators out of the space by midnight. I
\ndon’t have to get up until 0530, but I imagine that means I
\nshould leave, too.<\/p>\n
I got back to the compartment to discover that the engineers were
\njust starting to have fun. The boat was shuddering and quivering
\nin a manner which suggested we were on a high speed run. I dialed
\nup the SINS channel on the TV and saw that we were inching slowly
\nthrough 28KTS, headed for 30, and that accounted for all the
\ncommotion. I switched back to a movie and chewed on some
\nwardroom popcorn when the shuddering got worse. I decided the FID
\nwasn’t going to sink without a lot more of the same and turned
\nout the lights. I discovered to my interest that what the rascals
\ndown below had done was back the ship down from 30KTS to full
\nastern and then driven the ship backwards at 15KTS for 15
\nminutes. Wild stuff. You can never tell what sort of madness
\nthose Engineers will get up to. Like securing the flush water to
\nour head to do preventative maintenance. Little jokers.<\/p>\n
31 January 1990<\/p>\n
Started out wild and wooly today. I actually got outside for a
\nwhile…but I’m getting ahead of my story.<\/p>\n
The pandemonium level was extraordinary right through the early
\nhours this morning. Finally had wrestled the genie back into the
\nbottle; we had the DCAG’s graphics built, ready to pull the big
\ncombined CVW-6\/Foch airstrike into Corsica together. Notable
\nthrough this was the fact that we couldn’t talk to Foch, which
\nwas putting quite a crimp into little details like the timing of
\nthe rendezvous. The plan as last I understood it was to brief
\neverybody at 0600, hold until we figured things out and then go
\nfor it. I had just closed my eyes in the blackness of my
\ncompartment when the phone went off and startled the shit out of
\nme. I had placed the unit on the chair next to my bed because I
\nknew I was going to have problems launching after four hours of
\nsleep.<\/p>\n
Instead, it was Murph on duty with the glad tidings that Rookie
\nWord, the CDC officer, had somehow cracked the code. The French
\nwould rendezvous with us at about 1000, but would provide
\ncomplete details via an airdropped package at 0815 on the flight
\ndeck. I grunted my deep thanks because I could now sleep until
\n0730. I let the blackness settle over me….<\/p>\n
…and rejoined the circus at 0729. When I walked into Planning
\nmost of the aircrews had drifted in and I heard the Boss warning
\nthe Flight Deck guys to get their heads down and get in deep
\nshelter because a Super E was going to make a run on the flight
\ndeck with the package. I looked at Murph and we raced out of
\nPlanning and up the ladder to Vultures Row. We popped out to see
\nScopes from the Staff with his video camera and brilliant
\ndazzling wonderful sunlight. I peered around owlishly until a rap
\non the glass of the flag bridge caught my attention. It was RADM
\nAllen, and he pointed out to the abeam position. As my eyes
\nfocused I saw a slim dark shape starting to make the turn into
\nthe 270. He disappeared behind the bulk of the Island but I
\nstarted to count off the seconds as he rolled into the groove and
\nmade his approach.<\/p>\n
He appeared suddenly, 50ft over the deck at about 200KTS and
\npopped his speed brakes. A long cylindrical object dropped out,
\nbounced once around the three wire and rolled gracefully to a
\nstop on the four wire. Perfect pass. The Super E rocked his wings
\nand disappeared swiftly over the angle and arched off to the north.
\nAs DCAG said later, “That guy would be welcome here; he’d
\nget aboard the first pass.” Sweetpea summed it up in his message
\nto the French later in the day when he said it was the neatest
\npiece of flying he had seen in 30 years.<\/p>\n
When we got the package down to mission planning and took it
\napart, we found maps, a cunningly illustrated strike plan, a
\nMichelin road map of Corsica and target photos. DCAG briefed
\neach object as it came out of the package and after a hurried run
\nthrough the aircrew fled to man up the airplanes.<\/p>\n
It wasn’t flawlessly executed, but everyone who went had great
\nfun and nobody got into trouble. At the same time we had a mini-strike
\ngoing against the Italian carrier Garibaldi, which seemed
\nto go well and all the other usual sort of things.<\/p>\n
Only problem of the day was the refusal of Capo Frasca Target
\nControl to let our guys get on the target at the scheduled times.
\nThe Flag Staff drafted a strong message; after some examination
\nof the problem it appears that the enemy may not be our Italian
\nNato Allies, but our compatriots in the USAF who jointly manage
\nthe target. Hard to figure.<\/p>\n
Journalists come aboard tomorrow to document another routine day
\non the Boat. We have to get started on updating the orders of
\nbattle for East Med where it all gets kind of real again.<\/p>\n
70 days to go.<\/p>\n
01 FEB.<\/p>\n
It was a pleasant day to spend inside next to the fire. If you
\nhad one, that is. It was grey and misty and generally vile. The
\nclouds hung low and the boat was moving pretty well right through
\nthe day.<\/p>\n
Only one bilateral exercise on the menu today; this one mostly
\nfeatured the fighters going out and hassling with our Tunisian
\nbuddies from the 15th Squadron. The rest was straightforward
\noperations as usual as we transit down south of Sardinia. Despite
\nthe potential for miscommunication, everything worked out well.
\nHard to believe we pulled out the maze of permission from the
\nMinistry of Defense. VS\u00a928 may have gained contact on the sole
\nSoviet Nuclear sub in the Med this morning. Even our friends at
\nthe Sardinian Target cooperated and let our guys on the complex.<\/p>\n
Things were going so well I put off doing the eight things I
\nshould have been doing and did some house cleaning. I destroyed
\nthe residue from the Campaign brief; all the working papers and
\nthe four intermediate briefs it took to get to the final smooth
\nversion. In fact, I was a burning fool with the TS stuff and am
\nnow within striking range of getting rid of it all, and clearing\u2039f\u2039the books. After all the stomach churning anxiety of seeing
\nhundreds of documents with my name affixed to them strewn around
\nthe center I think (barring an act of belligerence) that this is
\ngoing to work out OK.<\/p>\n
The stuff I should have been doing includes the concurrent
\nfitness reports on the troops, letters of commendation for the
\nenlisted guys, a welcome aboard letter to my relief (whose orders
\nI found on the board this morning) and a formal command letter to
\nthe same guy. After the message from DIA I know that they are
\nprocessing my nomination; from bitter personal experience I know
\nthat can take quite a while. Still, it removes the potential
\nthreat from a change of Detailers and having to deal with yet
\nanother face. Of course, if it turns out to be Larry Clark
\ninstead of Jack Lautenschlager maybe Naval War College could be
\nback on the menu….oh well. Better to live with the threat as it
\nis constituted, I suppose. CAG asked me last night if I was happy
\nwith those orders. I guess so, but the thought of leaving the
\nWing just when we get back to 0730\u00a91600 hours with weekends off
\nand going back to the center of the octopus is a bit daunting.<\/p>\n
The weather continued to deteriorate through the afternoon,
\nbecoming truly bleak with about 40kts of wind over the deck.
\nShakey Jake came aboard hard, saying later his nose gear
\ncollapsed and gave us a spectacular arrested landing with just
\nthe tiniest of starboard wing scrapes. Thereafter the powers that
\nbe rethought options about finishing the flight schedule that
\nnight. They wound up cancelling the last two goes; seemed like
\nthe reasonable thing to do with OPTAR so tight these days. Save
\nthe gas for sometime when we can do something valuable with it
\nrather than launch guys to go orbit around marshall and bolter
\nall night. Word is also out that the JO bag\u00a9ex and bombing derby
\nare cnxed for tomorrow; so as a line period this started like
\ngangbusters but fizzled quickly.<\/p>\n
As it is my firm belief that idle hands are the devil’s workshop,
\nI set the troops to putting together the charts for the Passex
\nand building the kneeboard card package. I’m supposed to brief
\nthe Fucking Steeljaw ready room tomorrow on Intelligence
\nArchitecture (whatever that is) so I suppose I ought to get a
\ngood start on it.<\/p>\n
69 days to go.<\/p>\n
Copyright 1990 Vic Socotra
\nwww.vicsocotra.com<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Author’s Note: The current Hospital Stint is lurching to the end, we hope. The ankle wound feels better, and release may be forthcoming this week. Proof of the ability to return to life on my own is progress on the book about the end of the Cold War. So, in that spirit, there we are […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24341","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-daily-socotra"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24341","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24341"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24341\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24345,"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24341\/revisions\/24345"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24341"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24341"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.vicsocotra.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24341"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}