| My second "at sea" duty assignment
during the Viet-Nam era was to the Interior Communications section of the
Electrician's Gang, Engineering Division, aboard the attack carrier, USS
Shangri-La. Yes, I thought it was rather a strange name for a fighting
ship, at that. Apparently it had been named to commemorate the sarcastic
answer President Roosevelt had given the Japanese when they wondered where
Jimmy Dolittle's B25s had come from to bomb Tokyo so early in the Pacific
war. These medium-range bombers had actually been launched from the carrier,
Hornet, steaming over 800 miles to the east, but hoping to keep this seemingly
impossible mission classified for as long as possible, FDR simply announced
that they had flown to Japan from "Shangri-La," the fictitious
idyllic land from the popular contemporary novel, Lost Horizon.
Shangri-La was also the name of Roosevelt's wartime presidential retreat,
now known as Camp David. In fact, "Shangri-La" became a symbol
in the Roosevelt administration for the final glorious triumph and
peace that would come with the ultimate defeat and surrender of Japan. |
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| Unfortunately, President Roosevelt did not
live to see that particular Shangri-La. The carrier, Shangri-La,
although built late in the course of WW II (1944), did participate honorably
in the defeat of Japan, which was finally brought about with the dropping
of atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August
of 1945. |
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| Some Shangri-La! |
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| Perhaps "Armegeddon" would have
been a better name for anything meant to commemorate the legacy left by
the end of that horrible war. And to tell you the truth, by the time
I reported aboard the "Shang" in December 1968, she looked like
she had been there and back. She was one of the few remaining Essex
Class "conversions," (carriers that had been converted from WW
II "flat-tops" by the addition of the angled catapult deck--
a necessity for the jet fighters and fighter-bombers that became standard
shortly after the end of the Second World War). |
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| Word was (at the time I signed on) that the
Shangri-La was the only carrier still in active duty with a wooden timber
flight deck. In fact, the Shangri-La barely survived my short tour
aboard her, being finally decommisioned just two years after my departure
from the Navy. |
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| It had been quite an adjustment to transfer
from the tight-knit "family" of 85 hands and five officers
on the sub to being just another "striker," lost amongst a crew
of some 3500 souls (counting Ship's Company and the two or three Air Wings)
aboard. But I worked hard and learned a lot on this old hangar-barge.
It was here, assigned first to the Ship's Telephone Exchange and
Central Station (main gyrocompass), and later to the Ship's Sound Powered
Telephone System, that I learned the basic skills and fundamentals of audio
electronics and telephony that brought almost immediate employment with
PNB (Pacific Northwest Bell) following my discharge from the Navy, and
eventually led to the core of my life's work in telecommunications, ever
since. For this I am eternally greatful. |
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| One of my favorite duties on the Shangri-La
was showing movies to the Admiral in his stateroom, whenever he was aboard.
Even though it meant starching, pressing and wearing a fresh set of dress
whites, I always looked forward to sitting there, watching the movie, sharing
bowls of popcorn with the Admiral and his two personal stewards, and drinking
real cold Kool-Aid with ice cubes. The Kool-Aid we drank on the mess deck
was usually served either "warm or lumpy," and ice cubes were
a commodity that could only be purchased from the commies (Commisary Mates)
with an equal weight of cigarettes or personal blood sacrifice. |
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| Showing movies for the Old Man (the Captain)
was not half as much fun. The Captain's stewards were never allowed to
watch the movie and I got to stand there (even sit there, sometimes) and
watch the Captain eat popcorn and drink glass after clinking tall glass
of ice-cold, sparkling, thirst-quenching Kool-Aid on ice, while my tonque
parched and swelled in my throat. Showing movies in the Officers' Mess
or the Chiefs' Mess, I usually got popcorn and Kool-Aid, all right, but
nothing compared to those times with the Admiral, watching a B-grade western
or a 2nd or 3rd run episode of Star Trek or Mission Impossible, munching
popcorn and trading off-hand comments and small talk as though I was sitting
in the front room with my own grandfather. |
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| All-in-all, I guess the worst thing about
duty on the Shang was having to endure that damn song on the ship's onboard
entertainment system all the time-- you know, that one that goes "Your
kisses take me...to Shangri-Laaa" It seemed like every homesick sailor
on that ill-named ship that had a girlfriend or wife (or even a freckle-faced
girl cousin) back home, thought the most romantic thing he could do at
sea would be to call the request line at least 17 times every duty watch
and request they play that freaking song again. It was almost enough
to justify the "M" word-- (mutiny)! Thank goodness, at least
there is no ship named the U.S.S. Macarena! |
