Welcome to Log Entries by Tracy D. Connors

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For almost a hundred years, now, America has devoted this day--the day the guns fell silent to end the First World War--to honor and remember--the American Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines and other members of our armed services who have fought for--and protected--our country—and the right to freedom and self-determination around the world for over two hundred years.

Across our nation, we join in remembering and reflecting reflect on the service and sacrifices of American veterans of all our country’s conflicts.

As a brand new 17-year old Airman at NAS JAX out on the flight line servicing the old S2F Tracker ASW aircraft, I didn’t think about eventually being a Veteran. I was too busy making sure that I was doing my job properly.

I was just an Airman Recruit, a little guy I thought in the Navy’s big picture. But, I knew that someone else’s life depended on my thoroughness and professionalism. And, I always remembered one of my grandfather Arch Connors’--a Jacksonville building contractor--favorite sayings, “you told the man you could do it.”

In preparing to speak to and about Veterans today, I checked the definition to see what it might tell us about this esteemed category of citizen-soldier.

As I dug into the origins of the term “veteran,” I learned that it was originally a Latin word—“veteranus” from “vetus” meaning…“old.” I knew that certainly didn’t apply to me—or to any of us here today—of course—despite what I see in the mirror—when I dare to look.

I knew that our use of the term “veteran” referred instead to a person who is long experienced or practiced in an activity or capacity. Certainly those who have served in our Armed Forces have much experience and practice—we call it “training as we fight”—something we do constantly.

Over time, we came to call those who had served in our Armed Forces, “veterans” as a tribute to both their years of service and to acknowledge the extraordinary accomplishments of the American military forces--from the Revolutionary War to this day. Since 1775—some 231 years—those who have served in our Armed Forces have protected our democratic way of life and defended Freedom. Not only do their services span the life of our country—they have been—and are—the life of our country. Without their sacrifices America would have ceased to exist long ago. And, without a strong, prepared, forward deployed military capability, our country’s future is doubtful.

I don’t come to you today asserting that war or military operations are glorious or romantic in some swashbuckling way. They are not.

They are instead highly demanding emotionally and physically. Frequently that can become brutal, dangerous, life-threatening, risky and perilous confrontations with other humans who are attempting to kill you before you kill them.

When America’s young men and women have to be sent into harm’s way it is likely that some of them will be wounded or killed in action.

Even so-called “peacetime” is dangerous. Serving in a military unit that trains as it fights also brings casualties and too often death, even though every effort is made to make training both realistic and safe. I can assure you from much personal experience, that conducting flight operations at sea, for example—day or night—is indeed, risky business.

On my first deployment as a new Ensign aboard an attack aircraft carrier I saw several serious crashes, a mid-air collision between two jets, a “cold cat shot” that dribbled the aircraft over the bow as the pilot ejected—too late--into the water.

I was the Officer of the Deck one cold, stormy night in the Mediterranean when a young Airman was blown off the flight deck. The fantail lookout reported on the sound powered telephone that a man was in the water and that he had thrown him a preserver and a smoke flare to mark the spot in the dark of night and heavy seas. He had fallen—or been blown—off the flight deck some 50 feet into a stormy, winter sea. Time was critical before he drowned or succumbed to hypothermia.

I grabbed PriTac—the primary tactical and maneuvering radio circuit—to notify the rescue destroyer steaming in our wake just 1,000 yards astern. They Rogered that they had the light in sight and were launching their whale boat with its rescue swimmers.

Soon, an excited voice came over the PriTac circuit—“Riptide, this is Fancy Dancer,” the call sign for the rescue destroyer, “we are recovering your man overboard.”

I could hear the audible sighs of relief from around the darkened bridge from the watch team. Then, silence for many heavy minutes as we on the Roosevelt’s bridge waited nervously for the next transmission. Why was the confirmation taking so long? What was wrong?

“Riptide,” the PriTac boomed and we all jumped. “This is Fancy Dancer himself” meaning it was the Captain of the destroyer. His voice was breaking as he tried to control his emotions. “We had him”…he paused…and our hearts stopped…”but he slipped away.”

The cold, dark crashing sea had claimed another victim. One of us.

The darkened bridge was silent, except for a guttural “damn” from direction of the Captain’s chair. A gloom settled over the ship for many days as each of us mourned our lost Airman shipmate in his own way.

In the big scheme of things, he might be thought of as a little guy. But we knew better. He meant a lot to all of us on that ship. Even though most of us had not known him personally, he was one of us, a shipmate living among us, sharing our meals and hardships, serving his country by doing his important job to the best of his ability--making his important contribution to the ship’s mission. I will never forget him or the many, many others in military service with whom I have served over the years—the most dedicated, the most professional, and the most honorable, in my view, of Americans.

Glory was not what our Veterans sought when they served in uniform. They love their country and know that its survival and that of Freedom itself, often depends on whether they—and their shipmates and buddies—fulfill the missions and duties asked of them by their country—duties where professionalism and dedication by every member of the unit—be it a command, ship, wing, squadron, company, or battalion—often made the difference between life and death for those who depended on you. Certainly they made the difference in whether or not your unit fulfilled the mission expected of it by our country.

As we remember and honor our Veterans today, we should keep in mind that... (Continued)

 

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