Veterans Day Memories

Over the years—many people have asked me why I joined the Navy—how is it that I came to join the service? At the time, it was originally the sense that although I could go to IU Bloomington or elsewhere I was ready for an adventure—to experience something new and see the world. So I took the ASVAP entrance exam, scored well, and the recruiter made me feel like the world is my oyster and before you knew it I was on my way to Recruit Training Command in Chicago NINE days before Christmas in 1998. I mean—the recruiter reasoned— if I did not take that slot who KNOWS when the next one would open?

There is something so sobering about flying to O’Hare, lining up and getting yelled at IN the airport with other recruits from across the country, and then being bused to boot-camp to get yelled at some more. On the first night after some initial processing, you finally get a few hours of shut-eye and mere hours later some monstrous drill instructor is running through the barracks yelling at the top of his lungs to wake the eff up. A pervading sense of dread ensues and the thought of, “Oh my gosh, what have I done? Sh*t is about to get real!”

We were all wide-eyed young adults—kids really—who were steadfast in our resolve to see something new and better ourselves and a bit na?ve but still determined. So why did we join? What was it like? Well allow me a few moments to let me tell you…

It was standing watch at boot-camp and saluting and sounding off incorrectly to the most feared, meanest, brick-house, son-of-a-beatch drill-instructor—Petty Officer Mixon—and then having Mixon personally “cycle me” (i.e. do countless sets of pushups, burpees, arm circles, and other exercises that contorted the body to varying degrees of excruciating pain) for a full hour and then proclaiming for me not to go to sleep because he was “coming back for my as*” only never to come back on purpose just to eff with me. It was the mind games of boot-camp and making it to the end and feeling rejuvenated in mind and body with the real sense of accomplishment that you did something great. It was being so proud at the end of boot-camp marching past my family and friends during the "pass and review" ceremony with the expectation of future adventures to come.

It was going to school in Pensacola as the more seasoned sailors (aviation electronics technicians had the longest school for eight plus months and we became the senior statesmen) and playing jokes on the fresh arrivals from boot-camp—tying all of their barracks bedroom doors together with hundreds of rolls of dental floss in the middle of the night so they could not get out the next morning. It was celebrating my 21st birthday with Bryan Johnson at Seville’s in Pensacola and pounding multiple shots and countless quarter beers during Monday night football (Also Nickleback played that night right there on my 21st birthday don't judge me) and still having stumble into class the next morning. It was driving to New Orleans with Rob Liebsch Bryan Johnson and Tim Jablonski from Pensacola as they ripped through a suitcase of beer and Bryan Johnson putting the empty “beer helmet” on his head yelling at church buses out the window the whole way. It was Rob Liebsch and I drinking hurricanes at 4:00 AM and trying to figure out where our friend lived and how to get back. (There was no Uber back in 2000...) It was walking to school on the Gulf of Mexico in Pensacola and seeing the Blue Angels practice in the offseason every Tuesday and Thursday morning as if we were given front-row seats to our own personal air-show. It was getting yelled at with classmates for drinking beer on the beach after class on Friday by bible thumpers while I calmly reasoned that we were simply celebrating Jesus' first miracle (water into wine at the wedding at Cana-- look it up)

It was Sean Wuestenhoefer and his wife Jackie while stationed at Brunswick Naval Air Station in Maine so generously making a beautiful dinner for me on my 22nd birthday during the horrific events of 9/11 as we were all stunned and trying to make sense of what was happening. It was Bryan Johnson and some friends across base getting a keg of beer in Maine over the Christmas holiday steadfast in our determination to kill all 168 beers before the holiday concluded. It was gaining a better understanding of the world and what it meant to fall in love for the first time and truly be on a team and the true meaning of friendship.

It was Jeff Fleezy Flee beat-boxing (If your mother only knew...) to keep our spirits up during our 8 grueling months with our helicopter squadron HS-6 aboard the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz as part of 2003 WestPac while stationed in San Diego although we were rarely there because we were always out to sea. It was James H Allphin showing me the ropes of the avionics work-center and being the best mentor I could ask for in fixing helicopter electronics and as a sailor and most importantly good friend. It was the game of "missions" with HS-6 at the Jumeirah Beach swim up bar in Dubai as we all challenged each other to obtain introductions and information from strategic tourists situated around the perimeter of the pool It was my good friend Robert Steele and I working on top of an SH-60 helicopter antenna on the flight-deck of the USS Nimitz and having that moment of clarity that “Do you realize we are working on a $100 million helicopter on an $8 billion aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean at 3:00 AM? How many people get to do this?” It was exiting the Persian Gulf on the Nimitz moving full steam ahead with no clue what was going on with majestic mountains in the distance for two weeks. As it turned out, the central command thought they had good intelligence that Osama bin Laden was in Somalia and the mountains in the distance were part of the coast of Africa. It was the epic USO shows on the Nimitz with Blink-182, Wayne Newton, George Lopez, and others and then getting a hug after the show from both Brittany Murphy (RIP) AND Alyssa Milano with Alyssa saying “Aww, thanks so much for all that you do” after I thanked her for coming. It was the camaraderie, practical jokes, and sea stories. It was getting hazed by trusty Shellbacks as a filthy disgusting slimy pollywog during the “Crossing the Equator” ceremony and then having to crawl through unimaginable amounts filth and rotting food and at the end genuflecting and kissing King Neptune the Fat Baby to finish the indoctrination.

It was the homecoming back stateside in Pearl Harbor in Hawaii after the grueling eight month tour on the Nimitz and disembarking the ship to a rousing ovation and clapping from so many families, friends, loved ones and local citizens. I have never been so touched and emotional in my life and felt SO proud in that moment that I was a United States Sailor. It was a sense of duty, a new “Band of Brothers,” and trying to do all we could to look out for each other and make the most out of this time and this place. For that I am proud to have served with every one of you and would not trade it for anything in the world. So Happy Veterans Day to all Veterans, your service is commendable and you all truly gave of yourselves in hopes of making this world a better place for all.