Testimony of Pilot # 30
The organization of carrier aviation – Tailhook – held its annual convention in Reno Nevada 9-11 Sept. As indicated above, this year’s focus was on the Vietnam war. The comments below – indeed the moving testimony of a Vietnam era Naval Aviator’s son – are, I submit, well worth a read!
Tailhook -21 – My debrief by Rodd Karp
I was given the gift to attend Tailhook this year by Richard ‘Smokey’ Powell.
I didn’t know what to expect, and as we’ve heard described by those with much more experience than ourselves, regarding Junior Officers and strangers alike, “You don’t know what you don’t know.”
I certainly looked on the incipient week as something of an enigma. Perhaps I would be enlightened, perhaps I would hear a story or two, maybe my world would change?
Little did I know.
Most of you know Smokey because he’s still serving. He’s the Vice President of the Red River Valley Association and as always, an active member of the A-7 Corsair II Association.
Some of you may have even served with him. He was on the Linebacker II panel on the final day of the conference and boy howdy, wasn’t that cool?
But to me, he’s something more.
Rich and my Dad were NAVCAD’s together.
They both went through pre-flight class together and oddly enough, after earning their wings of gold ended up in a brand new squadron together.
They both joined the brand new VA-27 Royal Maces. They became plank owners of something completely new, flying brand new aircraft. (the A-7A)
I’m fairly certain that it’s not too often that folks going through pre-flight end up in the same squadron afterwards and do two combat tours together, each acquiring over 200+ combat missions.
Pretty special, eh?
They would studiously train in the RAG and learn all they could about this new platform. They did two tours together on the Connie and did a hell of a job doing what they were supposed to do. Real professionals.
There were mishaps and misadventures, but as Rich pointed out during the Linebacker II panel, they didn’t lose a single pilot to MIA/KIA. They all got back to the ship.
There was something special and lucky with this crew.
There were others there at the convention that I had the joy to talk to. There are very few people left on this planet that knew and worked with my Dad and I took nothing for granted.
Bill Thomas was ever-present during the conference. He had his first tour with the Maces sister squadron, VA-97 when my Dad was on his second cruise with Rich in VA-27.
He was subdued and focused on the conference through the week, but his wife and I share a similar parental story and she would gently try to get him to tell me stories, but you can’t force these things and I understand that, and I cherish her wisdom and kindness to me. She brought me a lot of perspective because we have similar backgrounds due to parentage.
They are a special pair.
It wasn’t until the banquet on Saturday night that I sat next to him and he really let loose with tales! With a big smile and a gleam in his eye, accompanied by a couple of cuss bombs he was in his element! I was a kid in a candy shop, just eating it all up.
After the sortie, he tried apologizing to me about telling stories, but after that evening sitting mesmerized by his boyish exuberance, I could only just simply thank him for anything at all he felt comfortable talking about. I take what I can get, believe me.
There was another gentleman that I met and curse me for forgetting his name right now, but he served with my Dad after the war as instructors with VT-24 in Beeville where I was born. (Thomas Harrell)
I got to meet him and his wife in the ready room at the Nugget. Like everyone that has been in touch with me through the years, from enlisted personnel to fellow drivers, he had nothing but good things to say about my Dad. He mentioned that he wanted to write me in the past, but didn’t know what to say. It was a profoundly interesting conversation to me because this was someone who worked with my Dad on a day to day basis in Beeville training new young pilots. He had fond memories of my Dad, saying he was a happy-go-lucky guy and was jovial and friendly when they were having coffee and donuts before the day’s brief. He said that Dad never mentioned that he got shot down over Laos. He was just a fun guy that did his job.
He couldn’t understand my Dad’s circumstance after learning about it.
Just like me.
Just like everyone else that knew him.
Do you know that feeling you get every Summer when you see a new batch of freshly licensed 16 year old kids driving around your neighborhood?
“Oh my God. What are you doing behind the wheel of that thing?” we think.
I got the same feeling during the Bug Roach gathering. I would look at the squadron patches and shoulder patches of everyone I passed. I saw one or two one bars, but primarily it was LT’s. And they looked like kids to me.
I’m sure a good chunk of this is just me about to turn 50, but I couldn’t have felt more proud about these youngsters and their paths and their journeys that they’re embarking on. My Dad was that kid once…
Pretty much everybody I talked to I asked them about where they were from and what got them into Naval aviation. Their stories were unique and varied and I soaked them all up like a sponge.
And I had to remind myself that these kids were Rich and Bill and Jeep, BJ and Chaz, and everyone else back in the day, including my Dad.
“They shouldn’t be behind the wheel of multi-million dollar equipment!” I thought, but then I stopped and thought, yes. They should be.
They’re type-A individuals that are humble, thirsty and growing. They’re continuing the legacy while remaining forward thinking. They are trained to remember. They are trained to pass it on.
NATOPS are written in blood. They get it.
May our NATOPS be forever thinner.
They were immortal for a limited time, and it was sobering and quite refreshing to see the new batch of youngsters carrying on the serious professionalism and dedication to their craft that their forebears fostered.
I got to tour NAS Fallon and became aware of how important that facility is. Our tour guide was ‘Sonic’ (only his Mom and his wife call him Steve.) He opened my world to the modern realty of what we’re facing and what we’re training for. It was both enlightening and sobering. We must not stop working to be the absolute best. And we will be.
Friday night was the banquet, and I entered the hall with Mat Garretson. We were seated at table 16, all the way at the other end but in the second row, which I thought was cool and prestigious.
As we walked by the stage we came to a dimly lit small table. I saw a folded flag on it and then I saw the single chair.
It stopped me in my tracks.
Mat said something along the lines of “I knew that was coming.” and I took a deep breath and we moseyed to our table.
During the beginning of the banquet, the speaker spoke of the special table set aside. It was for the POW/MIA folks, and those who paid the ultimate price in protecting our country and I had a very hard time with that. There was an empty seat to my left that I kept looking at.
I was clenching my jaw and rubbing my hands and I looked up and caught Smokey’s eye. He was staring at me.
I had to look down. It was very hard for me to be in that room at that moment.
My Dad took his own life in November of 1978. He suffered from what happened to him, like so many do. I had just turned seven years old. He was my hero and I’ve really had no one else to talk to about life in the Navy and Naval aviation until I reached out and found 
all of you. You have all helped fill so many gaps for me in more ways than you could know.
After the talk, the silence was broken by Mat calling my name and giving a toast to my Dad. The entire table of A-7 bubbas raised their glasses to him… to me…
It was a humbling and yet joyous feeling.
I feel as though I’m part of this community, this family. I sincerely feel that.
To all of you that already knew me, it was incredible to meet you in person.
To all of you that didn’t know me from Adam before this Tailhook, thank you for your open arms, your understanding and your warm embrace. I cannot thank you enough.
Departing Notes:
I hope that Tailhook and every service would be forthcoming and open and honest about talking about taking care of those who served when they get done with their military service.
This year’s Hook was about the Vietnam conflict. That’s cool, and there’s lots as a country and military that we learned from that (Hello, Top Gun!), etc… but we never seem to talk about helping one another once we’re done with our active service.
In 2019, there were 17 suicides a day among veterans.
Whether you got shot down over Tchepone and landed on the Ho Chi Minh trail and had to evade the enemy over night and get picked up the next day by Air America, or suffered from some other traumatic incident or memory while you served, we need a robust, strong and resilient friend to those people. They should never feel alone.
We should never fail them again.
I hope we can talk about that.
I never want to lose another veteran because they didn’t have anyone to talk to, to relate to… to understand.
You are all trained to compartmentalize things and carry out your mission. You see someone on the deck get sucked into an intake and then you are expected to launch and do your job and you do it. You are not trained to deal with that.
You all need someone to talk to about your experiences and be unafraid to do so. We are a family. Let’s be open and honest, giving and understanding of one another, even without complete understanding.
Tailhook ’21 was incredible for me.
I am honored and humbled to have been invited to this sanctum of fellowship. It was a helluva week!
