i only went to Athens once, 1972. After the Luce left Izmir, Turkey, we were at sea for more operations and then went to Athens for a short liberty stay. It was one of the highlights of that deployment. i was disappointed i had missed the Daphne Wine Festival. But i was excited i was going to Athens.

We anchored in the harbor near Piraeus. i was already in awe. i conjured up Themistocles ordering the Greeks to build up their Navy and defeating Persia in the Straits of Salamis. Our liberty launch landed at the head of fleet landing, a long concrete pier bolstered by boulders that ran down to the harbor waters. It was a formidable looking place, but hey, Athens was at the end. As i went ashore, i recalled being sure to get back before the last liberty launch departed at 0100.

We went to downtown Athens first. i ate a most wonderful Greek meal with spanikopita, moussaka, finishing with baklava for dessert. It was even better than i imagined with retsina wine.

Then, it was time for my biggest thrill. i went to the Acropolis. i stood in awe in front of the Parthenon and tried to imagine it and the Greeks at the pinnacle of their civilization. i scrambled over the huge broken steps. i spent the afternoon there.

Then it was Navy liberty time. i went back downtown and spent the evening drinking and eating and drinking. We had a great time until we realized the last liberty launch would leave soon. We caught a cab and gave him some extra to hurry. We arrived at the landing and run down the pier, which seemed like it was a mile long (it was long for a pier). When we got to about 100 yards, we saw the liberty launch leaving the boarding area. When we got to the loading area, the launch was too far away to hear us. We watched until it went around a bend.

It was autumn. It was cold. The wind had picked up. Did i mention it was cold? There was nothing there, no food, no drink, no cover. Nothing was there except concrete and boulders. The first liberty launch in the morning would arrive at 0600. Between officers and enlisted, there were about ten of us, perhaps fewer.

Before i got too cold to think, i wondered if the enlisted amongst us would be treated differently than the officers for our missing the launch when we got back to the ship. One of my buddies was a LCDR, the senior, so other than a rebuke from the XO or the Weapons Officer, i was likely fine.

i scrunched up against two boulders that formed something like. a very hard, very uncomfortable chair. Every time i would get close to falling asleep, a gust of cold wind would wake me up. i watched first light touch the sky and dawn break. Finally, the liberty launch came around the bend. We got back to the Luce before quarters. Sea detail soon was set, and we were underway again. Athens was behind me.

If i get to Athens again, i will get a hotel room.

And i never, ever missed the last liberty launch for the rest of my career.

i had some wonderful ships to sail on during my time at sea. Thirteen ships: five destroyers, two amphibs, three helicopter landing ships, two USNS troop ships, and one destroyer tender.

It is impossible to say one was better than the others. Each was different, each had its pluses and minuses. However, the USS Stephen B. Luce (DLG 7) was the right ship for me with the right Commanding Officer, the right Executive Officer, and the right Weapons Department head for me at right time. The only negative thing about the whole experience aboard her as the Anti-Submarine Warfare Officer was it was too short of a tour. Nine months.

After getting a night of much needed rest, i met most of the other officers in the wardroom at the morning mess. We set sea detail at 0730. i was just an observer on the bridge. We were immediately in the biggest naval exercise i experienced in my career. We had British, French, Greek, Italian, and Turkey navies involved across a large swath of the Mediterranean, moving east against an orange enemy. i was quickly qualified as officer of the deck (OOD) fleet steaming and was in a four-section watch. It felt good.

Many of the other navies had ships were formerly U.S. destroyers. They were old ships and those forces did not have the necessary maintenance expertise compared to the U.S. Fleet. This was most noticeable, and most annoying, in radio communications. As the other ships kept trying to get their radios to work properly, they were continuously conducting radio checks in English…okay, okay, it wasn’t really English; it was more like pidgin English, but the trills and accents of the various countries were included:

(Each ship had its own call sign using the phonetic alphabet; U.S. ships also had nicknames for call signs. The USS Hawkins’ call sign was “Daily News.” i do not remember the Luce’s call sign.)

“Delta Victor, Delta Victor, this is Charlie Whiskey, Charlie Whiskey , RADIO CHECK, RADIO CHECK, over.” “Charlie Whiskey, this is Delta Victor, roger, over.” Most of the time, the initiating ship did not receive the response, so this radio check thing went on incessantly. This seemed to occur on the evening, mid-watch, and morning watches.

Now, just think of the last call you had with a customer service representative, who was actually in Pakistan, or Ghana, or India, or somewhere in the Andes. Think of the difficulty of listening, then add those trills and guttural sounds to the broadcast.

If it hadn’t been so annoying, it would have made me laugh.

Ted Fenno, the XO was one of the nicest XO’s i ever met and was a huge help for me later as the head surface warfare detailer. He was one of the two best XO’s i had, the other being Louis Guimond on the Hawkins.

And then, there was CDR Butts. He was one of the top Commanding Officers during my career, and we got along very well. Before we returned to our home port i had become the sea detail and General Quarters OOD (except in ASW operations).

As the exercise wound down, we headed for Izmir, Turkey, our liberty port

i was not thrilled. After all, i had essentially missed Korfu, Greece. i have a romantic connection to the ancient civilization there and thought i had missed a wonderful opportunity to explore the Greek culture. As we went to anchor, we received a radio message from commander of the U.S. Navy forces. One of the Turkish destroyers was having multiple problems and needed assistance. i was appointed as the leader of the ad hoc team to visit the TCG Adatepe and do what we could to get the ASROC control panel and various radio gear.

The Adatepe was formely the USS Forrest Royal (DD 872), sold to the Turks in 1971. i thought it ironic in that the Forrest Royal‘s hull number had been only one number from my first ship the USS Hawkins, 872 to 873. The team of my first class ASROC gunners mate, the ship’s Electronic Technician warrant officer, a second class radioman, and me rode over to the Adatepe in the captain’s gig.

Coming aboard, we were met by the captain and XO. The warrant and i were taken to the wardroom, our enlisted team members were taken the enlisted mess. i was rather amazed at the lack of cleanliness throughout the ship, especially in the main passageway. We were offered espresso and took it. It was undoubtedly the strongest espresso i ever had. Apparently, it was very popular as there were bags of coffee beans piled around the wardroom.

After that thrill, the warrant was escorted to radio, and i to the ASROC Captain’s Control Panel next to the launcher amidships on the 01 level where i met my gunners mate. We discussed the problems through an interpreter with the ASW officer and his petty officer. Then, we opened up the top of the control panel. What we saw wasn’t pretty. Nearly the entire workings inside the panel were black, burnt. We both shook our heads and said we couldn’t make the panel operational. It would likely have to be replaced. i was taken back to the wardroom for more espresso where the warrant officer joined me. He had in his hand a round ceramic wafer, which was essential to the radio circuits. It was about the size of a half-dollar coin. Over a quarter of it was gone and where it was not, it appeared it was scorched.

We were disappointed we could not help and returned to the Luce. i wrote up the report. i went ashore for dinner, my only time in Turkey.

The next morning, we were underway. More MED sea stories to follow.

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i was back in the Navy, the active duty Navy. i regretfully left my beautiful wife and our precious six-week old daughter Blythe in Paris, Texas with her parents. My parents and bt rother Joe joined us for the last few days.

That was when our father challenged us to a match of eight ball on the pool table in the garage Kathie’s father had turned into a recreation room. Colonel Lynch, a retired US Army artillery officer was fond of repeating the saw, “It’s Hard To Remember That Your Initial Objective Was To Drain The Swamp.” He was therefore called affectionately “The Alligator” and his rec room/garage was known as the “Alligator Pit.” Kathie was his partner. We, of course, were thinking this is going to be a piece of cake. My father broke and ran the table. Gaping at each other we exclaimed we didn’t know Daddy played pool. Mother chimed in, “There’s a lot of things about your father you don’t know.”

My family drove me back to Tennessee and i caught a flight to Newark. Funny, how you remember certain things: i was sitting in the Newark airport waiting for the departure of the MAC flight to Rota, Spain. i had on my service dress khakis with the blouse and shoulder boards ( i still think that was the sharpest officer’s uniform the Navy ever had). i ordered a Carlsberg Elephant Malt Liquor. It still tastes good.

My MAC flight, as most flights carrying Naval personnel east did, we stopped in Rota. Unlike my first time, the top was only one night. i caught another flight to Naples, sitting next to a NESEP Ensign and a senior chief. We were berthed at the same hotel and agreed to dine together for dinner. The senior chief said he knew a great Italian place. We headed out until the senior chief directed the cab driver to stop. We walked down a large street and followed the chief when he turned left. It was a stairway as wide as a four-lane highway with streets and apartments chock-a-block all the way.

i realized we were in an area designated as off-limits. The senior chief confirmed my suspicions, but it did not deter us. About two-thirds of the way up the steps, the senior chief stopped and entered a wooden door of an unmarked store front. Inside, it was white on white: white plaster walls, round rickety tables covered with white tablecloths, the wooden chairs were rickety as well. In the middle of the table was an empty wine bottle with a candle and drippings along the side, gasp, like all those Italian restaurants in the states.

A problem arose when we realized none of us spoke Italian and no one in the restaurant spoke English. With standard terms like “spaghetti” and gesturing, we ordered bread, spaghetti and meatballs, and a bottle of wine. The brought out our orders quickly and placed the wine alongside the empty one with the candle. The wine bottle was not labeled. i proceeded to have the best Italian meal i’ve ever had with an incredible wine. Perhaps the atmosphere impacted my perception, but it was wonderful.

Next to the ceiling in a corner was a small black and white television. The 1972 Olympics in Munich was on. We sat and watched while we finished our wine — i didn’t learn of the terrorist attack on the Jewish team until i reported aboard.

The next day, we all went our separate ways. i flew to the island of Korfu, Greece. i took a cab to the port and reported aboard my next ship, the USS Stephen B. Luce (DLG 7) in the mid-afternoon. The flight and travel had worn me out and even though i wanted to see Korfu, no matter how short, i was too tired. i was introduced to the XO, LCDR Ted Fenno, and the commanding officer, CDR Richard Butts, taken to my stateroom, climbed into my upper rack, and went to sleep.

One of the best and too short tours of my Navy career had begun.

After i was released from active duty February 1971 in Seattle, Washington, i traveled to Paris, Texas with my financé, then on to Tennessee, moved my goods to Watertown, New York with massive help from my good friend Henry Harding, back to Paris to get married, and became a sports writer in upstate New York for the Watertown Daily Times.

i was still obligated for two years of Navy reserve time and joined the Watertown reserve unit. It was a financial blessing. The amount i earned going to reserve meetings once a month was equal to a week’s pay at the newspaper.

i was amazed. Hippies remained in full swing, and the military was resisted by many after the anti-war sentiment of young folks in the late 1960s. The reserves were trying to recruit and retain from that ilk. The Watertown reserve unit (and probably the majority of reserve units) was struggling to retain its reserves. Consequently, things in vogue that did not fit with the Navy regs, were allowed, like hair length. That didn’t fit well with me. Rules are rules. i was also still upset when the reserve lieutenant gave me incomplete information after i joined the Nashville unit and told me i would complete my obligations by going to the “active status pool” (NOPE!).

But it wasn’t hard, only a monthly Tuesday night reserve meeting and i met some several good folks in a similar situation. And i let my hair grow, in spite of my dislike of wavering on regulations.

In the summer of 72, i flew to Mayport for two weeks of ACDUTRA aboard the USS Waldron (DD 699). Having the luxury of not adhering to the Navy’s regulation haircut, my hair was longer than it had ever been. So before i left Watertown, i had a buzz cut.

This gave me a new recognition about our personal judgement process. When i came to Watertown and my new job, i was still pretty close to Navy regulations in hair length. The older reporters, management, liked my short hair and i was considered one of them. But with the tacit approval of the reserves, i let my hair grew, longer than i had in my life. The older staff began to distant them from me, and the younger, long haired guys began to take me in as one of their own. When my ACDUTRA was confirmed, a couple of days before i left, i got a buzz cut from my barber, even closer than Navy regs required. When i returned, the old guys took me under their wing and as my hair grew again, the younger guys also accepted me. Hair. Crazy hair.

Those two weeks of dutywas aboard the USS Waldron (DD 699). i have an admiration for FRAM 1 destroyers. They retained the open bridges. i served on three ships with open bridges, the USS Lloyd Thomas (DD 764), Waldron, and my last ship, the USS Yosemite (AD 19).

Unlike most two-week reserve duty, there was no liberty port. It seems like we were at sea the whole time in a major fleet operation. i stood my bridge watches with a young LTJG who had no fleet steaming experience. There were several times when i advised him what to do in situations he had never faced. Several times he was worried about helicopters dipping sonars close by. i calmed him down and explained how it worked.

When i left, the captain gave me a letter qualifying me as a Fleet OOD. i remain proud of that accomplishment.

Even though the extra income was a life saver, when i became sports editor and the guild obstructed my getting the pay i deserved for what i was doing, coupled with my wife being pregnant with our daughter, i began to consider my options. None looked better for security than getting back in the Navy. So i applied for becoming active. The officer in charge of such applications told me i could get in immediately if i requested to become a “Training and Reserve” (TAR) officer. i rejected that option immediately. He then said my chances for acceptance was not likely. Before i initiated the process

i reached out to my Commanding Officer, CAPT Max Lasell, of the USS Hawkins (DD 873), who made the effort to appear before the screening board and recommend i be accepted. i was one of six line officers accepted for that fiscal year.

i received my notice and orders to report to the USS Stephen B. Luce (DLG 7). i gave the Times notice and recommended my assistant replace me sports editor. He spent his entire career there. My wife Kathie gave birth to our daughter Blythe on July 7, 1972. We went to Paris, Texas where the two of them would stay while i flew to Korfu, Greece to report to the Luce. It was good to be back at sea.