RmOlano
April1997
A DAY AT SEA ON
Great, just great,
just what the chief need to start the day. The shop maintenance supervisor came back from daily
morning meeting and have informed him
that the department maintenance master chief want him on the phone ASAP. Its been two months since the battle group left CONUS for
six month deployment. The Captain was visibly disappointed when the cease-fire
took effect before the crew of USS Nimitz were able
to “embark on a great crusade” known as Operation Desert Storm. Technically,
the Battle Group were still at war since, the crew are getting combat pay and
other fringe benefits that comes with it including, working longer hours and
getting some of the aircraft shot at. A
lot of senior petty officers felt that the cease-fire was a serious ego blow to
the Skipper and probably to few other officers and enlisted
men. But you can not really fault them, after all those hard work, buckets of
sweat during practices, and dead serious proficiency test to get the qualified
and ready for deployment, heck it was a let down to find out that those effort
are not going to be use for real.
The message was to call the master
chief as soon as possible. Kind of strange, the chief wonders, the maintenance
master chief can easily pickup that fancy black telephone installed by civilian
contractors to the ship during refit,
push button number umptysquat and presto! Nobody can go anywhere farther than thousand
feet from anybody unless, they fly an airplane or fall overboard. There’s must be more to it than his
announcement at department maintenance meeting for everybody to hear. This
master chief rarely visits the Jet Shop. Only when he need something or have to
be here for a reason such, as reenlistment ceremony that the
mechanic’s see him here. Like Han Solo said in the Star Wars movie scene, “I have
bad feeling about this,” the chief thought.
Trained to obey lawful order, he slowly pickup the phone and dutifully
punch production control number. A beep
and the usual greeting about talking in a non secure line and an offer for a
help.
“ Hey, Bob, Ollie here. The master blaster want to talk to me so, If he’s around let me speak
to him.”
“Yea, he want you alright, wait a sec.”
“ Chief, did you let your test cell crew
get a day off today?” the E-9 chief asked.
“Yes, I did gave them a day off, the motor were been
working for past three day was done and ready for any Hornet squadron that
needs it.” the E-7 chief answered to an obviously
unhappy inquiry.
“ On whose authorization?” the master
blaster demanded.
“Mine. I am the Branch Chief, I’m in charge. So, that is
my call.” said the chief with confident tone that everybody uses when they are
pretty sure of themselves.
“I need to talk to you personally and bring you Division
Officer with you here in Production Control office at 0900 today.” Click,
buzzing sound follows. End of conversation
What in the heck was his problem?
The surprised chief asked himself. There is no demand of F/A-18 aircraft engine
this morning, even there is one, his shop his ready. The next F404 engine is
ready for test cell run tonight. And what about this
bring-your-division-officer-routine! Like the LT. Erickson will take a sermon
from him. The lieutenant might not be a model of naval leadership but the chief
like him because he knew how to run his chief- he leaves them alone. And that
is supposed to be the way the Navy run business, the officers takes care of
their career such as studying naval tactics, how to fight the ship and knowing
the “big picture” while the chiefs’ takes care of the day-to-day routine like
making sure
the
Airman Rogers have a complete seabag, or Petty
Officer Crandall do not miss his the dental appointment, or give the troops a
break when they deserve one. This E-9 may just want to renew his statement on
who is the top kick around here. On other hand, may be mid-life crises or
mid-cruise blues.
After rounding out the Division
Senior Chief and the LT for a quick run down of the events, and the phone call,
the trio walked to production control for the meeting. The production control compartment
is located on the forward end of the ship. IM-2 Division Chiefs tried to avoid
that space (office) not because the overhead (ceiling) is wider than deck
(floor), or one of the bulkhead (wall) is sloping down but due to its location,
it was like having an office in an elevator that constantly goes up and down!
Mr.
Erickson went straight to the Maintenance and Material Control Officer, while
the senior chief and the “regular chief” went to see the master chief. So,
there he was, stood in front of the infamous master blaster. The man is about
early fifty, gray hair on what was left of his hair. Standing about five feet and
five inches tall, weighing one hundred thirty pounds. No beer belly and always
no ready smile. Sitting in his high back swiveled chair, both hands
interlocked, fingers tapping his knuckles, eyes staring that said “Who the heck
you think you are!” Without preliminaries and deliberate slowness, the man
stated that there is only one spare F404 engine in the shop. As the old man got
up from his nice cushioned black leather imitation chair, the chief pick-up a
spot on the bulkhead about two inches from the yapping man ofwhat
looked like a broken stud. He also notes that the older man’s voice is beginning
to fade as the scene from the last three days fast forwarded from his memory.
Wow, these three straight days without sleep can sometimes do wonders.
The engine is one of those “quick fix.” Change high time
rotor, perform test run, and set it up as a spare asset. Well, to true to its
form, Murphy Law is alive and just visited the jet shop. High
vibration all over, despite troublehooting and
changing of parts. The infernal motor went in and out of test cell eight
times! The chief personally witnessed the installation of parts, used the best
mechanic and went over step-by-step on the procedures. Who would suspect that
the “new” rotor from Supply was the root of the problem. He saw one of his mechanics, Sheehan, that
young kid with family problem back in
Somebody is still talking, but the chief is not
listening. He still savoring the amazing
performance that his troops demonstrated. Everybody pulled together, no bickering,
teamwork, and dedication was evident. The chief did not even remind Bart, the
Leading Petty Officer to make sure that somebody will cover Sheehan’s assigned
compartment during sweepers. That was plain outstanding job and effort. Moving
his eyes away from the stud, the chief realize that there were two set of eyes
looking at his now smiling face. Both silently asking the
same question, what in the heck is wrong with you! Squaring his shoulder, the younger chief said,
“ The troops did an outstanding job, you should see
them in action.”
Now with a serious face, he continues, “My job is to take
care of them. I will not take a chance and
have anyone of them get hurt just to have a warm and fuzzy feeling so that a second
engine will be sitting in the shop as a spare. If we are at war and there was a demand right
now for the second engine, I might not be standing in front of you, explaining
my action, we might have a different story.”
“And oh by the way, the Marines are using the fantail for
weapons qualification until 1200 so, we cant run the engine this morning anyway . “ the chief added with a glint of smile back on his
face.
The last part about the Marines
really lit the master chief up. With fist clinched, thrusted
both arms down, and stomped his foot, “Why I was not informed about this weapons
quals?” he asked the now grinning chief.
“That is on today’s POD (plan of the day)” quipped the
senior chief with shoulder visibly shaking, lips pressed tightly while half
turning away from the now beet red master blaster.
That stud on the bulkhead sure really moves a lot faster lately,
the chief wonders. Or may be this darn elevator is just doing its job, may be I
need to go to chief mess for a while. Why not, it’s another great day at sea on