ABOARD THE USS INCHON - When John Lara departed
Ingleside on the USS Inchon March 1 he didn't know Ramiro Garcia.
But soon after this five-month cruise began, when Garcia wanted to
earn his Enlisted Surface Warfare and Enlisted Aviation Warfare Specialist pin,
he turned to his newfound friend for help.
What had broken the ice between the two was Tejano music.
Soon after the five-ship fleet left Ingleside, Lara took his CD player
to the hangar deck, just one level down from where the helicopters take off and
land. There, the sounds of artists like Jody Faria and Ramon Ayala drew others
with similar musical tastes. Garcia, a petty officer second class, was one of
them.
"We can relax here and get away from the hustle of ship life," Lara
said. "We can bond here."
With the music playing in the background, about 20 Tejano fans gather
every night in the breeze. The space is easily viewed by passers-by, but out of
the way enough that the music enthusiasts can watch the ship's activity at night
from a distance.
"We could be home now, at a club, dancing or listening to this music,"
Garcia said. "This is a song I would listen to with my wife."
The ship is filled with small communities of people brought together
by work, family and geographical background.
"It's not just us Hispanics," Garcia said. "We all need someone we
can relate to. This passes a lot of time. We think about what we'd be doing and
we learn to look out for one another."
And now that only four days remain of this five-month cruise, getting
back with family seems more a reality than a dream.
"I would be with my son right now, playing with him instead of watching
TV," said Petty Officer 3rd Class Laiwah Rico. "I miss my husband, my son, my
family, but especially my son. This is the first time I've left him."
Although the group sticks together at night, during the day they
disperse among the other 1,000 sailors on board. And at various points on the
cruise their company was in high demand.
"When we got to Spain everyone wanted to hang out with us," Garcia
said. "That way we could be translators."
"When we get home we'll still hang out now because we know so much
about each other," Garcia said. "We started out as strangers, but now we're family."
CPO Nice Guy
The promotion from first class petty officer to chief isn't what
is used to be.
"It used to be that we could have fun with them," said Chief Petty
Officer Steve Kennedy, taking a break from a five-month long card game that draws
the high-ranking non-commissioned officers to the Chief's Mess a few times a night.
When Kennedy and some of his peers were promoted, the initiation
into the new rank called for a special menu.
Fish oil. Anchovy paste. A decade after their promotion to the rank,
the chiefs playing cards still shudder at the words: "Limburger cheese."
"I must have swallowed five dozen eggs," Kennedy said.
But now, "it's just harsh day care," said Chief Petty Officer Ron
Simantz.
Eleven first class petty officers made chief Friday.
The announcement came from Capt. Dan Hartwell, captain of the Inchon,
and mess decks throughout the ship grew quiet as each name was rattled off. After
the names were called, an announcement followed: All new chiefs should report
to the chief's mess.
And the fun began.
"They sang a little song for us," Kennedy said of the new chiefs.
"Anchors Aweigh."
The fun will continue for the 11. And several anticipate a harrowing
few weeks. Now that hazing is illegal, per Navy regulations, mind games reign.
"We'll give them a list," Kennedy said. And that list will contain
such tasks "convince that guy that he's not as pretty as you," or "go tell that
guy off to prove you can," chiefs said.
It builds camaraderie, and the new chiefs learn about teamwork.
Until September when they get anchor pins attached to their lapels
at Naval Station Ingleside, they will learn what it means to be a chief.
"Anytime you want something done, ask a chief," Kennedy said. "Once
you're one of the chiefs, you're one of the group. Once you're a chief you assume
a lot more responsibility and a lot more is expected of you. We really run the
ship."
The chiefs are responsible for the morale, heath, safety and comfort
of the enlisted sailors onboard, said Master Chief Phil Kenline, command master
chief of the ship.
"We are always in the process of training our successor," Kenline
said. "It's important that the new chief's learn and understand what happens here.
And that they learn to pass on that knowledge."
'Doing something real'
For the members of Helicopter Mine Countermeasures Squadron 15, excitement
replaced uncertainty when they found out the USS Inchon would be aiding in Operation
Shining Hope, NATO's relief effort to help refugees fleeing Kosovo.
When the ship left Texas, the plan was to practice mine hunting with
NATO allies in the Persian Gulf.
But after NATO decided to use military force in the Kosovo crisis,
the ship did an about-face short of the Suez Canal and moved toward the Adriatic
on April 6.
"At least we're doing something real this time and making a difference
in someone's life," Petty Officer 3rd Class Rafael Morales, an aviation structural
mechanic, remembers thinking.
On April 8, HM-15 crews prepared their MH-53 Sea Dragon helicopters
to take off for Albania to carry goods to some of the hundreds of thousands of
refugees.
Once they landed in the country, one of the poorest in Europe, they
posted a sign "Welcome to Blackhawk Airlines, Tirana, Albania," so named for the
squadron's mascot.
"It was just green and lush and beautiful flying around there," said
Lt. Cmdr. Tom Breske, who was appointed as the liaison officer between the squadron,
other U.S. armed forces and foreign groups at the Tirana airport.
But it was also very cold, rainy and cloudy, said Petty Officer 2nd
Class Kathryn Remm, an equipment operator for the squadron, and they weren't prepared
with warm clothing.
The first group dropped off in-country set up tarps to keep the rain
away, then the squadron flew in fork lifts and maintenance equipment to load supplies
for the aircraft and about 60 people.
At first they brought supplies to the border where many of the refugees
were pouring over from Kosovo.
"I didn't know how to feel about it at first," said Airman Shawnyce
Moore. "It was really sad for everyone. I just wish we could have come in, picked
them up and taken them somewhere where they could be safe and live."
Word of the incoming supplies traveled fast. By the second day, one
brave refugee decided to run to the helicopter to try to get some food.
Then all the refugees rushed forward, tearing at the goods, not minding
the swoop of the rotor blades.
"We had to force them out,' said Petty Officer 1st Class Stewart
Pemberton. "I wouldn't want to be in that place, relying on a government you know
nothing about."
But soon the NATO nations organizing the relief efforts established
Camp Hope, a quickly erected camp where the refugees were aided and supplied with
food.
"We went from nothing to a monstrous base overnight," said Petty
Officer 1st Class Greg Johnson, an aviation machinist's mate. "Here we were, all
these foreign countries that didn't know each other and we worked together like
we have been doing it for 10 years."
The refugees seemed to come from poor backgrounds, some sailors said,
and they were clearly in desperate circumstances. But it was the children who
supplied the poignant snapshots of the tour.
"There was this one kid who really wanted a sleeping bag except he
couldn't grab one," said Airman Jody Dyer. "He really tried his best so I brought
him one. He wrapped his arms around it, holding it, and ran with it."
Because the children seemed the neediest, crews were fond of times
when they could deliver toys.
"When you're a kid it's a whole different world because you're getting
something for you, not everyone else," Johnson said. "The parents gotta do what
they can and it doesn't matter if they're smiling as much, but it's different
when you get a child there to smile."
A few of the squadron's helicopters flew to the USS Kearsarge, where
they flew Marine troops to Northern Macedonia after the peace agreement was signed.
"The whole world was there," Johnson said. "There must have been
20 miles of tanks and equipment. A German tank behind an American one. The Brits
and French were there."
And the squadron's work was done.
"We learned that we could do these things quickly," Breske said about
the mission. "And it really didn't surprise me and we could be ready to do it
again."
