Fighting Her Father's War: The FIghting Tomcats

by M. L. Maki

  “Yes, I’m good, Commander.”

  The deck crew complete their chores under the bird, give the shooter the thumbs up and he puts his right hand to his chest. Spike applies full military power and checks her instruments, then hand salutes, and grabs the throttle, “Hang onto your lunch, sir.” The shooter bends at the waist, touches the deck, and points to the bow, and the catapult is fired, accelerating the ’14 down the deck. In two hundred and fifty feet, the aircraft is going 175 knots.

  Halsey says, “Oh, my God!” The craft settles, and Spike climbs to 200 feet and slows, letting Thud catch up. His cat strokes a few seconds later, and in a moment Spike hears, “Spike, we’re in the slot.”

  “Roger, Speedy.” The F-14s pull vertical, climbing now on full after burner, and accelerate quickly past 5000 feet.

  Halsey yells, “Oh, my Lord, this thing goes!”

  They hold the vertical climb through 20,000 feet, where based on missile and fuel load, they start slowing. At angels 25, “Speedy, roll on our back, flame off. Let’s show the Admiral the view,” and they roll over.

  “This high, this fast, Commander Hunt, I see what Nimitz means.”

  “Yes, sir, we’ll be doing some acrobatics, so when I say grunt, it’s important that you do what you were taught, so you don’t pass out.”

  “I understand.”

  “Okay, sir, and in the air, it’s easier to call me Spike.”

  “Alright, Spike, I’m ready.”

  “Wings level,” and they come upright, “Okay, Speedy, we’ll be keeping to no more than 5 g’s. We’ll do an Immelman up to 30, then a split S and a Cuban 8. You’ll play follow the leader, okay?”

  “Roger, Spike, you lead, I follow, 5 g limit.”

  She says, “Grunt, sir,” pulling the stick back and they quickly climb to 30,000 feet. She spins the plane upright and level, then quickly snap turns to 45 degrees right and pulls again to start the split S. “Grunt, sir.” Completing the first turn, she spins the plane 90 degrees left and continues the turn. “Grunt, sir.” Completing the S, she goes wing level and starts pulling for the Cuban 8. “Grunt, sir.” After 5/8th of a loop, she does a half snap into a 45 degree dive. “You okay, sir?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Oh, my call sign is Bull. Hate it, but there it is.”

  Okay, sir. Speedy, let’s head west about 10 miles, level flight.” Then to Halsey, “Bull, is it okay for me to get permission for a supersonic flyby?”

  “Will it damage the fleet, Spike?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Sure, go ahead. Everyone is out watching the show, anyway.”

  She grins, “Gold Eagle, Knight Flight, request permission for a low level supersonic flyby.”

  “Roger, Knight 1, you are cleared supersonic west to east. Please fly between the Vinson and the Enterprise.”

  “Thank you, Gold Eagle, acknowledge between Vinson and Enterprise. Okay, Speedy, loose deuce, reverse Immelman to angels one and descend to 200 feet.”

  “Roger, Spike, reverse Immelman to one grand and descend to 200 and rattle their cage. Five g limit.”

  “Grunt, sir,” and they snap roll and pull downward using their altitude to smoothly break the sound barrier.

  Halsey asks, “How fast?”

  “Right now, 850 knots and accelerating.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  They pull out at 1000 feet, coming level and upright, then slowly descend, “One thousand knots, sir, about our top speed this low.” Then, “Burners on, Speedy, I’m lining up close to the Vinson, you shy to the Enterprise. Let’s pass between them at about 100 feet AGL.”

  “Okay, Spike, looks like a small hole.”

  They flash by the carriers only 100 feet off the water, “Burners off, Speedy, do a half Cuban to a horizontal minimum distance turn authorized up to 8 g’s. Keep it at 1000 feet. We’ll circle around so you can pounce on us.” Thud pulls up hard, falling behind as she makes a gentle reversal. Thud peaks out at 3000 feet and dives toward the ships at 600 knots. Over the Enterprise, Thud rolls on his side, pulling the stick back in a tight horizontal turn. As he straightens out, Spike flashes by at 600 knots, and he has her, “Guns. Guns. Guns.”

  “Okay, vertical scissors to angels 10. Grunt, sir,” and pull the stick bac, climbing past vertical. At 45 degrees, she does a half snap roll upright and repeats. Thud us performing the inverse of the maneuver below her, making sure they do not collide. At 10,000 feet, she says, “Rolling out west. Okay, Speedy, let’s give them a 350 knot pass at 500 feet. I’ll close my wings, and you open yours.”

  “Roger, Spike, in and out pass.”

  “Bull, things might get a little wobbly. She doesn’t like flying too slow wings closed.”

  “No problem, Spike.”

  They pass west to east, Spike above and right of Thud, his wings full forward and hers full aft. The cobra wobble is manageable at this speed. Speedy asks, “Thud wants to do a mirror pass. You level, and us inverted?”

  “Speedy, there’s a three star in my back seat, 100 feet minimum separation.”

  “Okay, let’s make the separation horizontal and vertical to make it look closer.”

  “Okay, Speedy, coming around,” and they line up for a mirror pass. “Alright, Speedy, on course, straight and level, 300 feet AGL.”

  “Roger, Spike, inverting now,” and they fly 300 feet above the fleet in a mirror pass.

  “Okay, Speedy, call the break.”

  “Okay, coming upright. Break. Break,” and Thud pulls up and clear of Spike.

  “Speedy, slow left turn and climb to angels 5.”

  “Roger.”

  “Okay, Admiral, I think we’ve done pretty well. How are you doing back there?”

  “Frankly, amazed. Did you two rehearse this?”

  “No, sir, he’s my wingman. I love flying with him. Remember, sir, I didn’t even know I was going to fly before you showed up.”

  “You both fly very well. You said both Speedy and Thud on the radio. Which is the pilot?”

  “Thud is the pilot and Speedy is his RIO. Normally, the RIO is the voice of the plane.”

  “Okay. How are you finding life in the Navy?”

  “I love it.”

  “It can’t be all a bed of roses, a woman in a man’s world.”

  “It’s not, but I do love it, and I love the fact that I can make a difference. My dad taught me that it is never easy to do something worthwhile.”

  “Very true. Thank you for indulging an old man with a ride.”

  “You’re not an old man, sir. Frankly, I’m glad I got to fly today. Thank you for letting me show you what this bird can do.”

  “I know you need to land in a bit, any requests for your Admiral? You need anything I can give?”

  “Yes, sir, there’s something you can give. I would like authorization to hold a contest to put a new insignia on our tails. It would be good for morale. My people are coping damn well, but it’s not easy.”

  “Granted, that one’s easy. Anything else?”

  “Sir, one of my guys came to me with a legitimate worry. We have no intel that indicates Japan may have had a time travel event, but if they did, they may have jets. We should develop a contingency to deal with jets.”

  “Okay, I’ll pass it on. Anything else?”

  “No, sir. We’re pretty much good to go.”

  “Okay, let’s go home.”

  “Yes, sir, are you okay?”

  “Oh yes, just tired of grunting.”

  “Alright, Speedy, let’s go home.”

  “Gold Eagle, Knight Flight requests to marshal.”

  “Knight Flight, we are ready to receive.” Flying loose deuce, Spike makes the cut first, “Knight 1, call the ball.”

  “Roger ball, 53.”

  They come in, wings spread, wiggling as she makes adjustments, and she hits the deck, catching the coveted 3 wire. The engines roar, then idle, as she comes to a stop and raises the hook. They park and Thud rolls to a stop beside her. She says, “Well, si
r, enjoy yourself?” and opens the canopy.

  “I see why all of you are nuts about staying in shape. It was fun.”

  “I love to fly, sir.”

  CHAPTER 41

  PORT SIDE LADDER WELL, 02 LEVEL OUTBOARD HANGAR BAY 2

  1700, 6 JANUARY, 1942

  After taking a shower and changing her flight suit, Sam is humming as she makes her way down to the hangar bay. As she swings around to go down the next ladder, she sees Carleton coming up. He stops, a look of anger and disdain on his face, “So, hanging out with admirals, now. Are you going to fuck your way to the top?”

  “Excuse me,” waiting for him to come up past her.

  “There is no excuse for you,” standing his ground and blocking the stairs. A Black Knight sailor starts up the stairs behind him, sees Hunt and Carleton, and rushes back down.

  “John, you don’t want to do this, it isn’t worth it.”

  “What? Now you care about My career. The career you destroyed?” A door opens below them, and up the stairs comes ‘Fluffy’ Bond. He sizes up the situation, “Hey, Skipper, I need to talk to you. Excuse me, Book.” He places one hand on Carleton’s shoulder and moves him to the side of the ladder. “Skipper, why don’t you come down to my office?”

  “Yes, Chief, I need to talk to you, too,” and goes down past Carleton and the senior chief.

  She pauses at the foot of the ladder, and sees Fluffy lean in close to Carleton, “Mister Carleton, you don’t want to get on my bad side. Be a good fella and behave.” She continues on to the senior chief’s office, Fluffy following. He pours them each a cup of coffee, “Trevor Gonzalez saw you two and came shagging for me. Bright boy, he’ll go far. You okay, ma’am?”

  “I’m fine. I’m worried about Book. He just can’t let go. And he’s such a good pilot. It’s frustrating.”

  He gives her a measuring look, “Well, I’ll be watching. You need to look out for yourself, too. I think he’s getting a bit squirrely, ma’am.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of, too. It’s not like good F-14 pilots grow on trees. You know, when I arrived at the squadron, I defined my flying by his. He made me a better pilot, but I can’t tell him that. He can’t hear me.”

  “You know, ma’am, you’re alright. A guy tries to jack you up in a stairwell, and you’re worried about how he feels. Most folks would just pop him in the nose and be done with him.”

  “Well, okay, I appreciate that. I was on my way to talk to you. I have an idea for a contest to help morale. I’ve permission from Halsey, so it’s authorized. Anybody in the squadron can enter a design for a new tail insignia for the Black Knights. What do you think?”

  “What does the winner get?”

  “That’s a good question. At first, I thought the winner would get to have the dress plane with the new insignia, but I don’t think that’s enough.”

  “The winner gets to have dinner with the skipper in wardroom 1.”

  “Well, for the pilots and RIOs that wouldn’t be a big deal.”

  “Yeah, but they get the fancy plane. For the enlisted folks it would be huge.”

  “That works for me. I’m a little worried about the morale of the squadron, Senior.”

  “I know, I am as well. It helps for the crew to see you around, talking, and stuff. This game will help, too, I think. Who will be the judge, you?”

  “No, the goat locker, it will be yours.”

  “No problem, ma’am. I’ll set it up. Just to be clear, only members of the squadron can play, right? Don’t want those Felix guys trying to make us the pig fuckers, or something.”

  Sam laughs, “You have such a delicate way with words.”

  HANGAR BAY 2

  As Sam walks back to the ladder, she sees Newburg walking slowly, holding the arm of a tall man with bandages on his head. “Duck, how are you doing?” Newburg stands straighter and salutes.

  “I’m taking MM1 for a walk.”

  “Of course. Petty Officer Hammond, how are you?”

  Hammond slowly straightens up, “I’m getting better, ma’am, one step at time. Thank you for looking after Greg” His face still shows red from the burns on his left cheek and both hands are bandaged. His dungarees and backwards hospital gown show the bandages on his abdomen.

  “It’s more like Greg’s been looking out for me.”

  “He does that. He told me about your promotion. Congratulations, Commander.”

  “Thank you. It looks like your healing.”

  “Feel like I need a damn walker. But I’m glad to be out of medical. Greg is taking me to see the Enterprise. One of my grandpa’s brothers served on her.”

  “Oh, wow. May I join you?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Sam takes his other arm and helps walk him to the elevator door.

  “So, you have family on the Enterprise. My dad was a marine on Guadalcanal.”

  “Wow, a marine. Did he get pissed when you joined the Navy?”

  “No, actually, he was very supportive.”

  Greg asks, “What happened on Guadalcanal, Ham?”

  Ham rolls his eyes, “High schools suck today,” then to Greg, “Bad boys go to hell. Hell, for marines, is Guadalcanal.”

  Sam says, “Good description. He never really recovered.” They stop in front of the open elevator doors and steaming about three miles away is the USS Enterprise. “Well, there she is, the Big E.” They stand in silent admiration, then see a blinker flash on the carrier.

  OUTSIDE BLACK KNIGHTS READY ROOM, 1600, 8 JANUARY, 1942

  Sam opens the ready room door and catches Puck’s eye, motioning for him to join her. Once Eric is outside, she starts walking forward, smiling, “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Care to join me in wardroom 3?”

  “Absolutely, I understand the pork adobo tonight is excellent.”

  She grins, “Port adobo, that’s the best you can do?”

  “I’m sorry, I flopped at improve in college. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

  “Sure.”

  “I noticed you out and about more. How’s it going?”

  “I think a little better. I’m still drowning in paperwork.” Puck grabs two trays as they walk into the wardroom and hands her one.

  “How did Papa take the idea of an insignia change?”

  “Well, he wasn’t thrilled, but he’s letting us do it. He understands we have a major morale problem. I feel for him?”

  Puck looks at the offerings, “Oh my, instead of the dreaded adobo, it’s a meat loaf like substance and mashed potatoes. Dinner is looking up.”

  “Are you sure it’s mashed potatoes? God, do you remember college food? It was a warm up for this.”

  Puck laughs, “It must be, but I ate well in college.”

  “Really, how did you manage that?”

  Puck grins at her, “Rule 6, only date girls who can cook.”

  She smiles, “Oh God, a good one. So, what are rules one through five?”

  “Now, you’re asking me to reveal all my secrets,” and to the server, “the apple pie.”

  “Apple for me, too, but may I have mine a la mode?”

  The server says, “Yes, ma’am,” and piles a couple of scoops of vanilla ice cream on her pie.

  “Thank you.”

  Puck grabs two coffee cups and hands her one, and they get their coffee and find a corner to sit in. Puck continues, “Rule 1: Don’t shit in your own nest.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Rule 2: Never drink alcohol, period.”

  “I’ll bite.”

  “Too many Indians turn out to be alcoholics. We lack the ‘just get drunk’ gene, or something. I’m not above the statistics, so I never drink, no matter what.”

  “Okay, Rule 3?”

  “Rule 3: Work first, socialize second. I wasn’t there to get a degree in human sexuality.”

  “Right.”

  “You asked.”

  “Just curious, I get it, because I followed the sam
e rule.”

  “Rule 4: Guys are judged by their friends, so don’t hang out with jerks or bums.”

  “Hug, haven’t thought of that one, but, I think it’s the same for women.”

  “Rule 5: Never concoct an impressive ‘get laid’ story. If I’m not good enough as I am, then they are not worth my time.”

  “Damn, you’ve got it all thought out, haven’t you?”

  “Rule 7: I borrowed this one. You can’t fix stupid, so don’t even try.”

  “There’s that. Is that all, Puck?”

  He grins, “No, college had ten commandments.”

  “Oh, ten rules, excuse me.”

  “Okay, never mind. I’m not trying to torture or offend you.”

  “I’m not offended. I just think the whole thing is both cool and amusing. I’m teasing you, Puck.”

  He smiles, “Okay, chalk it up to baggage from a bad relationship, which brings us to Rule 8: Never date a girl who needs a relationship more than you do. She turned psycho-needy.”

  Sam laughs, “Man, you had a hard life. Oh, and that last one is actually true in reverse, as well.”

  “Hard life, not at all. I only lacked female companionship when I wanted too, recall Rule 3”

  “So, you had to beat them off with sticks. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “I didn’t beat them off. Well, except Carla, but she was psycho, like I said. Look, I know I’m not Robert Redford, but I studied at a pretty liberal college. All the co-eds wanted to date Tonto. At the time, it seemed the thing to do. I even tried to convince myself I was cool.”

  “Where did you go to college?”

  “Cal-Tech, class of ’87.”

  “Oh, I’m a Cal-Tech alum, too, class of ’84. We were there at the same time.”

  “AE?”

  Yep, AE. You?”

  “CS. This is so ‘Navy’. I have a BS in CS at Cal-tech. There aren’t any words in it.”

  “You’re so right. You know what they stand for, right?”

  “Of course, bull shit, more shit, piled higher and deeper.”

  “Yep, that’s it. So, where were we?”