I’m unsure at this point when I originally wrote this. It was not to long after it happened, but I don’t remember what got me to write this. But anyways… here it is.
When I heard that an 620 had gone into the water of the cats my stomach dropped. I’ve been in this community long enough to know the odds of survival. But they had everything going for them. Calm ocean. Warm water. I thought I could handle the loss of the aircraft. Matter of fact. I know I can. I thought I’d be okay. I don’t know very many of the officers here. It would suck, but I’d be okay.
If only in a perfect world. It took a little while before we found out the names. LT Cameron Hall, LT Ryan Betton and Ltjg. Jerry Smith. It hurt when I heard Mr Halls name. I’m not sure why It hurt so much, why it still does. I’ve known him for quite a few years. I’ve drank with him in port and on det. I’ve launched his planes. I’ve grumbled at him for breaking my airplanes. He was a cool mother fucker. The last time I talked to him was just before the boat det left for the Truman. I was filling in for the ASDO and Mr Hall poked his head in the window to say hi. We hadn’t really gotten a chance to catch up since I had checked into 120. He was on his way to do something, so it was a very short conversation. But we had planned to catch up when he returned.
For as hard as this whole past week has been for me. I know its been much harder for the fomer Banger O’s who are here. They were a very close knit group. I’m not even sure what it is thats causing me to feel so unsettled about this. I know that some of the first things that went through my head were whether or not something I worked on, something I inspected caused that plane to crash. Did I miss something? Could I have looked harder? It was an old damn airplane. It took a lot of love to get up and we’d only had it for a short time. There was such a rush to get it flying that its hard to believe that we didn’t miss anything. Its unlikely we’ll ever know exactly caused 620 to crash, but i’ll always have that feeling in the back of my mind whenever I’m out working on a gripe or inspecting someone elses work. Just the few minor things that I’ve inspected since it happened have made me feel very, very uncomfortable. I’ve heard it probably a 1000 times in the last couple days, everybody telling us not to think that. That it wasn’t our fault. I’d like to know how somebody can be expected not to think that. 3 lives were lost. I lost a good friend. The thought that the aircrew places there lives in a maintainers hands every time they fly has always seemed real to me. But after this, real seems so much harder to deal with.
The E-2C Hawkeye has one of the best safety records in the Navy and most of the avaition field period. The facts prove it. The last fatal crash of a Hawkeye was in 1993. I know that after the crash, we still had people and aircraft that had to be flown back to the beach. Our aircrew didn’t hesitate to climb back into the cockpit and fly them home. My fellow maintaniers climbed into the back of the COD and flew home, even knowing that they could ride the boat back into Norfolk. It shows a tremendous amount of faith in ourselves to to that. I am damn sure that everyone of those people was scared shitless. I know I would have been.
I don’t know how long it’ll be until I’m over this. I know I’ll never forget it. I can’t and I won’t.
I’ll always remember Mr Hall as a goofy person. He liked his old country, something I could agree with and man could that guy party. I remember in Key West, the night before we were leave, everybody was out on Duval St parting it up, most of us a little too much. The next morning, some of us had to packout some gear and he was one of us. He showed up bright and early. Sun glasses on. He walked into the room, looked at us. Said “Wake me when your ready to go” and he passed out on the couch. LIke a said. I goofy guy.
Well here’s to you Mr Hall, where ever you may be right now. Far winds and Following seas. You’ll be missed Sir.
Fair Winds and Following Seas LT Hall.
