They were all smiles, happy to see familiar faces after months away from their team. Victoria, meanwhile, couldn’t help but inspect everything she saw. Like a mother visiting her kids at school, she intended to use this as an opportunity to spot check everything from uniforms to helicopter maintenance to the junior pilots’ knowledge of the anti-submarine warfare. This air detachment and its ship hadn’t seen battle yet, and she wanted to do everything in her power to make sure they were ready. She of all people knew what they would face.
As the Commanding Officer of Helicopter Maritime Strike Squadron 74 (HSM-74), the "Swamp Foxes,” Victoria was embarked on the USS Wasp with only half of her subordinates. The other half of her men and helicopters were scattered across a half-dozen destroyers and cruisers. Some of her detachments were embarked on nearby escorts and remained close enough for her to meet with for an hour or two. Other ships, like the Stockdale, were thousands of miles away on expeditionary missions. It was much easier to communicate before China destroyed most of the US satellite communications capability. But even in the good old days, some conversations needed to be held face to face.
Like when the ship’s commanding officer demanded that his helicopter detachment’s Officer in Charge be replaced.
Victoria walked inside the hangar, removing her helmet, the inner liner soaked with sweat. Her hair was matted and equally wet. Her eyes searched the hangar until she found the three senior officers on board. The Stockdale’s captain, XO, and the man of the hour, the ship’s helicopter detachment Officer in Charge. Lieutenant Commander Bruce “Plug” McGuire. Or, as her own XO had referred to him before she left the Wasp, Lieutenant Commander Numb-nuts. Victoria had deployed with Plug, and knew that despite his many faults, he could be a great asset. It remained to be seen whether she could convince the ship captain of that.
“We’re honored to have you, Commander Manning,” the captain said, shaking her hand.
The ship’s CO looked happy to receive her. Victoria’s role in the Battle of Johnston Atoll had been all over the news, even the text-only Early Bird version they got on deployment. Now, everywhere she went, Victoria was preceded by her “living legend” celebrity status. A status she did not care for.
“Thank you for having me. I hope it won’t be a problem to give me an airlift to Lima tomorrow? With the ESG going through the ditch today, I didn’t see another way to make this happen.”
“It’s no problem at all,” replied the captain.
Orders came for the ARG to proceed toward the Panama Canal Zone for immediate transit east through the canal. Victoria would be helicoptered to Peru tomorrow, and get transportation back to the States. Her admin folks were still working on how exactly she would re-join the Wasp after it transited east through the Panama Canal.
None of this would be required if the ship’s captain hadn’t been determined to fire Plug. Victoria wanted the chance to speak to them both face to face before agreeing to it. The ship’s captain was giving her that courtesy. Plug, to his credit, stood quietly, looking like a teenager about to get his butt chewed.
The captain clapped his hands together. “Well, Commander Manning, why don’t you join me in my stateroom for some coffee? We can have our discussion.”
They both glanced at Plug, and then at the other Lieutenant Commander, Victoria’s copilot. One of them was flying off the ship with her tomorrow. The captain would decide.
“I would be delighted, Captain.”
Plug said, “I better run. I want to make sure the maintenance team is getting those new radar parts installed as soon as possible. Excuse me, sir, ma’am.”
The XO said, “I gotta run too. Meeting time. Planning board for planning.”
Victoria inwardly smiled at the meeting name. A meeting to plan for other meetings. When she was young and naïve, she thought that Navy deployments would all be like the movie The Hunt for Red October. She was surprised to find out that, in actuality, most days resembled the TV series The Office. Until the war began.
Victoria followed the captain through the ship’s passageways and into his stateroom.
Chatting along the way, she tried to cover as much ground as possible. The easy items. Victoria let him know that she came bearing gifts. An additional helicopter, which he, of course, knew about, but the reminder wouldn’t hurt. Some much-needed radar parts. And a new, very experienced Aviation Electrician’s Mate. Together, these should solve most of the maintenance issues plaguing this particular helicopter detachment.
The captain listened, nodding politely as they walked through the ship’s rolling passageways. Members of the ship’s crew, seeing two O-5s coming at them, attempted to melt into the bulkhead as they passed.
Once in the captain’s stateroom, both seated and sipping bitter black coffee from the captain’s china, the two commanding officers got to the harder discussion.
The captain said, “Commander Manning, I…”
“Please, call me Victoria.”
“Sure. I’m Jim. Victoria, I’ll cut to the chase. Look, Plug just isn’t working out.”
She crossed her legs and placed the coffee cup down on the table. The coffee sloshed to either side with the waves.
“I got your message and was hoping to hear more details. I would very much prefer not to swap out one of my OICs in the middle of a cruise. That being said, I have come here prepared to do so. If it’s not too much trouble, could you please describe the problem?”
The captain shifted in his seat under her stare. “Well, obviously, the aircraft has been flying much less than it should. We’ve got two destroyers out here, alone and unafraid, in what’s supposed to be the southernmost guard for the fleet. But the other destroyer is a Flight One, so they don’t have a helo. And we’ve only got one bird.”
“Now you’ve got two.”
“Yes, and we thank you and the rest of the chain of command for that. But I worry it’s more than just bad luck. I mean, our air det has suffered mechanical problem after mechanical problem. I’m getting my ass chewed by my boss for something that is out of my control. Because even when our helicopter has flown, its radar is broken. So our surveillance flights are much less effective.”
Victoria understood the situation. Not only was the ship captain worried about actually having the dead weight of a non-flying helicopter detachment, he was getting flak from above.
“Jim, I don’t argue with you there. You need to have reliable surveillance coverage. Trust me when I say that the Strike Group folks are aware of this and pushing us hard to make sure you’ve got a long-term fix. That’s why I’m here. How have you been getting ISR out here?”
“The VP squadron out of El Salvador. Flies a route every day and gives us an update. But…”
Victoria nodded, knowing what he would say. “That’s not good enough. Not in this environment.”
“Right.”
“You’ve seen the intel estimates about possible South American landings?”
“I have. That’s why we need a change.”
Victoria crossed her arms, nodding. “Sure. I understand. But, Jim, I think we can solve that without swapping out OICs, don’t you?”
The captain frowned. “Well… there’s more.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
“Look, I didn’t want to get into this. I understand that Plug is decorated and all. But… he’s just not meeting the standard required for an officer of his rank. He comes to meetings late. His flight suit looks like a bag of shit. More importantly, he has gotten blackout drunk at every liberty stop we’ve had.”