And then I wrote...

by Dick Schilling, Editor Emeritus

... that I ask for your indulgence while I reminisce about the commanding officers I knew in the Navy. The story over the weekend about the B-29 crew member who got a ride in one once again prompted my thinking.
My first assignment as an ensign after schooling was to the staff of Air Task Group 3, which was preparing for deployment. The CAG (carrier air group commander) in whose office I served was the famed Commander Paul N. Gray, known as “the bald eagle of Korea” since he had two planes shot out from under him in that war. Hollywood even made a movie about him. His wingman at the time of those aircraft downings was also on his staff, so he obviously had some pull. CAG was trained in one of the jet attack squadrons, but when that type of aircraft was subject of a recall because of a flaw, the squadron was off-loaded on Guam. That left him without a plane to fly off the carrier. So, he spent a week or so learning to fly the fighter jets from another squadron, and with no prior carrier landings, flew one of those planes to the carrier. I was on the 03 deck viewpoint when he came aboard, and I swear I could see the entire underside of the jet as it approached the fantail. The LSO’s (landing signal officer) critique of his landing was FNKH. The last three initials stood for “nearly killed himself.”
After the eight-month cruise, I was assigned to the newly formed replacement air group at Moffett NAS. The commander in whose office I served there was Commander Jon (“that’s JON Jon”) Thomas. He was fresh from a tour aboard a carrier of the Royal Navy, and had absorbed a lot that was British. He was killed on an approach at Moffett when his engine flamed out, but he dove the plane into an orchard rather than endanger folks on the nearby Highway 101 freeway. He tried to bail out but was too low. As admin officer, I was charged with inventorying his personal things for his mother, since he was never married. She was a lady in every sense of the word, and gave me a set of his matched glasses “for my trouble.”
His successor was Commander Felix E. Ward. Many were called but FEW was chosen, he announced. His first directive to me was to look up the “numbers” of any others with the rank of commander with whom he was likely to have conversation or correspondence. An officer’s number indicates his seniority, and he wanted to know if he was ranked by or outranked the other officer! I was a junior lieutenant by then, with a stripe and a half to his three stripes. Once when he took my advice to do something, he said “there’s a stripe and a half riding on this.” I asked if he meant all of mine or half of his, and he broke up, so we got along well. My immediate supervisor was a lieutenant commander who had been passed over for promotion by a previous boss. FEW had just met him when fitness reports were due, so he asked me how I felt about the LCDR. I had served under him for several months, so gave him a glowing recommendation. FEW said, okay, you write his fitness report and I will sign it. I did. He did. And the LCDR got his promotion.
Some examples why my Navy years were among the best years of my life!