AWs, Here's the article I wrote for the base paper the week before my retirement ceremony (1430, 17 July, NAS Kingsville O'Club for anyone that wants free booze). Kinda long, but easy enough to ignore if you get bored. I think the main thought I would pass along, especially to those just starting or applying, is that being a Naval Aviator is the best job in the world and I wouldn't trade a day of the last 20 years for a week of the presidency.
Flying K
NAS Kingsville, TX
10 July 2009
Twenty Years. It sounds like a long time, but then again, doesn’t. I can remember some periods over the last twenty years when it seemed like time was crawling by at a snail’s pace. However, looking back over it all, the past 20 years seem as short as an 8 second ride on a wild horse, and just as exciting.
I remember the drive from North Texas to Pensacola back in the spring of 1989 as if it was only yesterday. Karen and I full of enthusiasm and a bit of trepidation as we both embarked on this new adventure. Hitting the coast and seeing the Ocean from a new perspective, knowing that it would become my second home. That first, mind-numbing day of Aviation Officer Candidate School and the morning the Drill Instructor showed up. The friendships I made at AOCS still exist, though AOCS itself doesn’t.
I remember leaving AOCS after graduation on Friday to begin Primary Flight Training in Corpus Christi on Monday, and I still recall instances from Ground School and my first solo in the Turbo-Weenie. The Weenie is still around, though the T-2’s and A-4s of my Intermediate and Advanced Jet Training sit idle in a desert bone yard or on a stick somewhere. So also sits the Intruder, the first big gray jet I got to fly. Even the FA-18C, while she still has a lot of good years left in her, is being replaced by newer platforms. Of the 11 aircraft carriers I’ve trapped on, five are now parked in a river somewhere or have been turned into razor blades.
****Sigh****
It’s enough to make a guy feel old sometimes. I joined the Navy at the shank end of the cold war. When I flew Intruders we were still training to use special weapons and to overlap our 22 bomb craters to ensure target destruction. By the time I was flying combat operations over Afghanistan, we would routinely destroy multiple targets with a single pass of an FA-18. Not only has our outdated equipment been updated, but our training and tactics also. Even the very makeup of our force has changed. When I went to sea for the first time, the thought of females aboard ship was unthinkable, but forward-looking decision makers showed us that not only was it thinkable, it was doable, and now it is hard to remember why anyone ever thought we couldn’t. Yes, a lot has changed since Red and I left Wichita Falls for parts unknown, but a lot has remained constant.
Every Ready Room I’ve ever been a part of was full of the smartest, most dedicated, sharpest witted people you could ever meet. That holds true from “The Professionals” of VT-23 (another unit lost to history) all the way across the pond to NATO HQ, London, where we aviators would gather as a group to commiserate about our sorry lot away from the cockpit. The banter of a typical Ready Room would put all of Hollywood’s sitcom writers to shame.
The dedication, spirit, and leadership of the Goat Locker have also been constants. I was trained as a young Junior Officer by some of the best Chiefs in the Navy, until that day when I had enough savvy and experience of my own to take part in their development. They are still without equal in their professionalism and ability.
The hard-working, hard-partying, great American Sailor hasn’t changed much either. The music and liberty uniforms might sound and look different these days, but these treasures of the nation can still be counted on to take care of the jets, the catapults and the arresting gear so that Aviators can get bombs on target and get back home safe. Always take care of your troops, they deserve your best.
Another constant in Naval Aviation is change. Whether it is a change of duty station, a change of bosses or a change of platforms, you can always count on not being able to count on things staying the same. This can be a blessing or a curse. Take it as a blessing. I’ve spent 20 years getting to know the best people in the world. I’ve learned leadership lessons from the best and worst bosses in the world (mostly the best). I’ve lived in the hottest and coldest and driest and wettest places in the world. The Navy has given me the chance to grow well beyond the boundaries which I viewed as boundless growing up in North Texas. Little did I realize then.
Well, it’s time for me to hang up my spurs and get on with life. There’s some land up in North Texas that is in need of a Cowboy and his girl.
So, do you think I feel old? Don’t make me laugh. Yesterday I flew a High Aspect Air Combat Maneuvering hop against a solo Marine student who knew well what he was about. His youth, enthusiasm and joie de vivre (sorry, lapsed into a little French there) were contagious. And it has always been thus. Flinging my eager craft through footless halls of air, fighting to get just a few seconds of tracking time; how could you feel old doing that?
Wherever you are in your career - just starting, in the middle, nearing the end, or still deciding – enjoy every day. They’ll be memories tomorrow so do your best to make them good ones.
Thank you to the great staff at the Wing for making me look good and giving me time to fly. Thank you to all the base folks - from the gym to the tower and everywhere in between - for your support of the Wing mission. And a special thanks to the young men and women who are students and instructors, not only for your dedication to serving the nation, but for helping an old guy like me feel young.
This has been the best job in the world and I can’t believe God let me do it for so long and that He gave me such a supportive wife and family to chase me around, doing all the hard stuff while I played all day. So, for God, and for Karen and Casey and Colter, I give my final and complete Thank You! God bless you all.
Adios,
Cowboy
Flying K
NAS Kingsville, TX
10 July 2009
Twenty Years. It sounds like a long time, but then again, doesn’t. I can remember some periods over the last twenty years when it seemed like time was crawling by at a snail’s pace. However, looking back over it all, the past 20 years seem as short as an 8 second ride on a wild horse, and just as exciting.
I remember the drive from North Texas to Pensacola back in the spring of 1989 as if it was only yesterday. Karen and I full of enthusiasm and a bit of trepidation as we both embarked on this new adventure. Hitting the coast and seeing the Ocean from a new perspective, knowing that it would become my second home. That first, mind-numbing day of Aviation Officer Candidate School and the morning the Drill Instructor showed up. The friendships I made at AOCS still exist, though AOCS itself doesn’t.
I remember leaving AOCS after graduation on Friday to begin Primary Flight Training in Corpus Christi on Monday, and I still recall instances from Ground School and my first solo in the Turbo-Weenie. The Weenie is still around, though the T-2’s and A-4s of my Intermediate and Advanced Jet Training sit idle in a desert bone yard or on a stick somewhere. So also sits the Intruder, the first big gray jet I got to fly. Even the FA-18C, while she still has a lot of good years left in her, is being replaced by newer platforms. Of the 11 aircraft carriers I’ve trapped on, five are now parked in a river somewhere or have been turned into razor blades.
****Sigh****
It’s enough to make a guy feel old sometimes. I joined the Navy at the shank end of the cold war. When I flew Intruders we were still training to use special weapons and to overlap our 22 bomb craters to ensure target destruction. By the time I was flying combat operations over Afghanistan, we would routinely destroy multiple targets with a single pass of an FA-18. Not only has our outdated equipment been updated, but our training and tactics also. Even the very makeup of our force has changed. When I went to sea for the first time, the thought of females aboard ship was unthinkable, but forward-looking decision makers showed us that not only was it thinkable, it was doable, and now it is hard to remember why anyone ever thought we couldn’t. Yes, a lot has changed since Red and I left Wichita Falls for parts unknown, but a lot has remained constant.
Every Ready Room I’ve ever been a part of was full of the smartest, most dedicated, sharpest witted people you could ever meet. That holds true from “The Professionals” of VT-23 (another unit lost to history) all the way across the pond to NATO HQ, London, where we aviators would gather as a group to commiserate about our sorry lot away from the cockpit. The banter of a typical Ready Room would put all of Hollywood’s sitcom writers to shame.
The dedication, spirit, and leadership of the Goat Locker have also been constants. I was trained as a young Junior Officer by some of the best Chiefs in the Navy, until that day when I had enough savvy and experience of my own to take part in their development. They are still without equal in their professionalism and ability.
The hard-working, hard-partying, great American Sailor hasn’t changed much either. The music and liberty uniforms might sound and look different these days, but these treasures of the nation can still be counted on to take care of the jets, the catapults and the arresting gear so that Aviators can get bombs on target and get back home safe. Always take care of your troops, they deserve your best.
Another constant in Naval Aviation is change. Whether it is a change of duty station, a change of bosses or a change of platforms, you can always count on not being able to count on things staying the same. This can be a blessing or a curse. Take it as a blessing. I’ve spent 20 years getting to know the best people in the world. I’ve learned leadership lessons from the best and worst bosses in the world (mostly the best). I’ve lived in the hottest and coldest and driest and wettest places in the world. The Navy has given me the chance to grow well beyond the boundaries which I viewed as boundless growing up in North Texas. Little did I realize then.
Well, it’s time for me to hang up my spurs and get on with life. There’s some land up in North Texas that is in need of a Cowboy and his girl.
So, do you think I feel old? Don’t make me laugh. Yesterday I flew a High Aspect Air Combat Maneuvering hop against a solo Marine student who knew well what he was about. His youth, enthusiasm and joie de vivre (sorry, lapsed into a little French there) were contagious. And it has always been thus. Flinging my eager craft through footless halls of air, fighting to get just a few seconds of tracking time; how could you feel old doing that?
Wherever you are in your career - just starting, in the middle, nearing the end, or still deciding – enjoy every day. They’ll be memories tomorrow so do your best to make them good ones.
Thank you to the great staff at the Wing for making me look good and giving me time to fly. Thank you to all the base folks - from the gym to the tower and everywhere in between - for your support of the Wing mission. And a special thanks to the young men and women who are students and instructors, not only for your dedication to serving the nation, but for helping an old guy like me feel young.
This has been the best job in the world and I can’t believe God let me do it for so long and that He gave me such a supportive wife and family to chase me around, doing all the hard stuff while I played all day. So, for God, and for Karen and Casey and Colter, I give my final and complete Thank You! God bless you all.
Adios,
Cowboy
