November 1987 was an awful month for the crew of the USS MIDWAY (CV-41). The aircraft carrier, forward deployed in Yokosuka, Japan, was considered the “Tip of the Sword” for Navy operations in the Pacific and Indian Oceans. At the time, I was a mighty “Speargun,” assigned to HS-12; a young helicopter pilot and a “salty” Lieutenant Air Crew Division Officer.
President Reagan had decided to put a stop, once and for all, to the Iranian Navy’s harassment of the strategic and commercially important water way, known as the Straits of Hormuz. Our transit to the North Arabian Sea evolved into the largest naval convoy since WWII.
On November 9, only about a month into the cruise, the ship’s Captain announced over the 1MC that an HS-12 helo was in the drink. SAR procedures kicked in and the entire Battle Group searched for Speargun 610 and its crew. Our Skipper, Cdr. Bill Young, was first on the scene. Having numerous combat rescues under his belt, he and his crew successfully affected the rescue of both pilots and a crewman. The second crewman, AW2 Joseph Pfleghaar, however, was not located. The search for Joe went on for about 48 hours, with negative results. When the Captain advised the crew of the MIDWAY that SAR ops were being discontinued, every man on the boat realized the weight of that decision, and what it meant
Then, on November 19, while rounding the tip of India, an EA-6B Prowler, from VAQ Squadron 136, missed its scheduled landing time. Another SAR mission was launched. No sign of the wreckage or the crew was ever made. Cdr. Noel Greene, Lt. John Carter, Lt. Doug Hora and Lt. Dave Gibson had simply vanished. We were still about a week or two away from reaching our designated patrol area, and we had already lost five air crew and two aircraft.
Seven days later, Skipper Young somehow commandeered the Admiral’s Wardroom aboard the carrier for a Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings. It was a solemn occasion, and he knew that we were heading into a potential war zone. He knew also, that he could not afford to have his flight crews suffering from low morale and dark thoughts. So we toasted AW2 Pfleghaar and the missing crew of VAQ 136. The Skipper regaled us with his backstory of the rescue he conducted behind enemy lines, which had resulted in the Navy Cross he wore underneath his Navy Wings. He warned us of the dangers of 24-hour operations tempo that we could expect upon reaching our destination. Mostly, though, we talked of family and Thanksgiving traditions back home. Unbreakable bonds and camaraderie were formed that night. The Skipper knew what he was doing. He was a true leader.
Fast forward about three weeks ago. Renae and I were winding up another October vacation on the white sands of Pensacola Beach. Rather than heading straight back to Illinois, we decided on a stop in Virginia. Bill’s house sits high above one of the many coves that feeds into the Rappahannock River. He and his wife, Carolyn, graciously put us up for two nights. Bill and I golfed. Renae and Carolyn took in the sites. At The Tides Inn, a beautiful and historic Chesapeake Bay resort, we sat on the deck and took in the magnificent view. With drinks in hand, we remembered Joe, Noel, Doug, John and Dave.
Remember them this Veterans Day, and be thankful for all we have this Thanksgiving.
