USS Theodore Roosevelt

Part of being in the President’s Cabinet is becoming acquainted with the broader mission of the government. I accepted an invitation to spend part of the weekend with the Navy aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt, a nuclear-class aircraft carrier, as it conducted training off the eastern seaboard of the United States.

I spent time with the ship’s commanding officer as well as the Commander of the Second Fleet and the battle group of which the TR is a part. An aggressive schedule allowed me to get a first-hand look at each of the sub-divisions of the ship and its operation. I came away with a much better understanding of the Navy’s mission and the way it integrates into the armed forces of the United States.

The ship was conducting flight qualification for pilots of various squadrons attached to the Second Fleet. Before pilots can be deployed, they have to demonstrate competency in landing on and taking off from an aircraft carrier. On display was world-class science, engineering, logistics, and management.

Hour after hour, planes took off and then landed on the deck of the ship. To take off, an aircraft is hooked to a catapult which uses steam pressure and hydraulics to sling the plane into the air. In less than two seconds, it reaches 150 miles an hour. The pilot has the engines at full throttle so the engines take over where the catapult leaves off.

Most people have seen pictures on television or movies of this procedure but what is not evident is the electrifying energy and thundering sounds surrounding the operation. Standing a few feet away, I could feel my body vibrate on the inside. It is the kind of force so overpowering that a feeling of smallness overtakes you. However, the reality of all that steel and the flaming explosiveness of the jet fuel somehow blends with the controlled and methodical motion of the crews. They move with robotic precision over and over.

The landings are even more remarkable to me. Standing on the deck about 50 feet from their touch point, I could see the aircraft approaching. The closer they came, the more evident their speed became. They are flying at about 150 miles an hour when they cross the trailing deck of the ship. The planes wiggle back and forth as the pilots struggle to position them at exactly the right altitude and angle.

I watched dozens of landings, and every single one gave me the same feeling one gets when they see an accident about to happen. There is an explosive sound of the jet engines at full bore, and then the collision of sixty thousand pounds of steel hitting the deck of a ship. For a split second you wonder: is it going to stop? Then the plane snaps to a halt, even rolling backwards a few yards. And then suddenly, quiet, as the plane calmly follows the directions of the crew to a parking spot.

All of this was dramatic in the daylight, but when night came, the impact racketed up several notches. Then add driving rain and the full specter of our Navy’s competency came to view; they just continued to work through it all.

Speaking of competency; I admire how competency-oriented the military is. The amount of time you spend in flight school is not the final determinant of your ability to fly. It is the demonstrated ability to land and take off in all kinds of situations. Nobody is considered combat-ready until they are proven as such. Every landing is graded, every move evaluated. If you don’t prove it today, go back and get better and try again later. Our schools should be more like that.

Many of those we watched being tested had never landed on a carrier before. Most of the pilots I talked with agreed, it was adventurous in the daylight but far closer to frightening at night.

I had my own experience with both landing and taking off. We were flown to the carrier on a C2. It is a plane built to be adaptable for passengers or cargo. We were strapped into our seats facing backwards on the landing. I would describe the landing as violent, jarring and frankly a little nauseating, but everything other than the nausea was over in less than two seconds. The catapult off the ship was far closer to a great amusement ride, but still only lasting about 2 seconds.

They refer to the USS Theodore Roosevelt as the Big Stick, referencing Teddy’s slogan, “speak softly and carry a big stick.” Much of the 27 hours I was there was spent climbing steep stairway ladders that connect nine layers of the ship where people live and work. The ship is a small industrial city with a population of 5,500. The place is permeated with uniquely Navy culture where everybody knows their job and goes about doing it.

Like any city, there is a post office, a hospital, places to shop, and eat. There are recreation opportunities, residential areas, offices and highly industrialized sections. Every part of the ship is defined by the equivalent of an address; otherwise, one would get hopelessly lost in the maze of tunnel like halls, hatches and ladder stairs.

The food was good; the sailors polite; the quarters were suitable, though the constant roar of jet engines and ship-rattling thud of jets landing on the deck took some getting use to. They say sailors learn to ignore it. Fortunately, they quit flying about midnight and I slept quite well on the lower level of a three-man bunk with 15 inches of clearance between my nose and the next one up.

Though all the machinery was marvelous, I was told it would be the people that impressed me the most and it was. All the senior officers I met were remarkable. I’ve concluded if a person survives 25 or more years in the “up or out” system of the United States Navy, you are an exceptional person. That is certainly true of Captain Ladd Wheeler and his Executive Officer, Greg Fenton. Captain Fenton told me over dinner he had 800 take-offs and landings on aircraft carriers.

I had breakfast with Command Master Chief Chris Engles. He pointed out to me, several times during the visit, that most of those doing the work on board were young, many 18 and 19 years old. They are the products of a system of discipline, training and leadership that demands and gets competency and performance from young inexperienced people, many of whom are away from home for the first time. As we ate breakfast and talked, it became clear to me he cares a great deal about them because that is exactly where he came from.

Engles was born in a row-house neighborhood of central Baltimore as the second child in an Irish-Catholic family of seven. His mother was a 4-foot 10-inch, red-haired, stay-at-home mother. His father is a large gentle Irishman who worked at the shipyards.

A few minutes of conversation with Chris reveal a natively smart man. He speaks with a clipped rapid cadence of the tough neighborhood he grew up in. Talking together I could visualize a 17-year-old who dropped out of high school because he was bored and started working for a buck an hour moving furniture. By his own description, Chris was wasting himself and said he needed something better.

His father had been in the Navy. It had always been a source of pride for his family. In fact, they kept his father’s Navy neckerchief tied to the mirror of the car as a reminder of those days. One afternoon Chris saw a recruiting office and within a few months he was a sailor.

A year or two later he had married the daughter of one of his Naval superiors whom he had met at the christening of a ship he later served on. They have now been married 25 years and have two children, one of whom is in the Air Force.

Chris Engles appears to have been made for the Navy. Smart, disciplined and knows how to talk to everyone. He’s now one of the highest ranking non-commissioned people in the Navy. The Navy has given him education, opportunity and leadership. He has given the Navy his devotion, energy, and lots of sacrifice. He’s a great example for those 18 and 19-year-olds who shoulder so much responsibility and he’s undoubtedly one of the reasons the system works so well.

It also makes one remarkably proud of the armed forces of the United States.

Comments

Dear Secretary Leavitt,
Thanks for your latest post, sharing your adventure on the USS TRoosevelt. Your dedicated service as a member of the President's Cabinet has afforded you some special opportunities and privileges. However, you are to be commended for sharing with those of us who will never get to taste that experience.
And thanks for your continued support for our military. I never let an opportunity go by without saying a prayer for the young men and women who fight on foreign lands and do their job to keep us safe.
Keep writing!!
One of your biggest fans, Holly

Posted by: Holly | January 30, 2008 at 02:44 PM

Dear Secretary Leavitt,
Thank you for sharing your experiences aboard the USS Theodore Roosevelt. As the mother of one of those first time away from home young sailors stationed on the Big Stick, your report helps me to feel a bit less alienated from the life my son is living.
President Theodore Roosevelt wrote, "A good Navy...is the surest guaranty of peace." I am proud to be a navy mom.

Posted by: Jennifer | February 11, 2008 at 01:06 AM

As a retired Naval Officer you cannot help but marvel at the fine work our Navy and military does everyday.

I too served on USS Enterprise (CVN 65) and was astounded with the way precision flight operations were conducted.

thanks for visiting the troops

Posted by: Dennis Blackmore | March 09, 2008 at 09:32 AM