Frankly Speaking-The Trolls go Home
It was late in the summer of 1971. We (Helicopter Antisubmarine Squadron 7) were deployed to the North Atlantic onboard the World War II vintage aircraft carrier USS Wasp. It was to be the Wasp’s last deployment prior to her decommissioning. Our mission that summer was to locate Russian submarines and make the world a safer place live. Exactly how that was to take place still evades me.
We had tracked a Russian nuke boat all the way across the Atlantic and when it neared the east coast of the United States we were certain our journey would be cut short because we were so close to our homeport of Quonset Point, Rhode Island. But no, the order was given to launch every available antisubmarine aircraft. Then at a set time all the helicopters which had been tracking the sub using passive sonar, were to begin active sonar tracking. Passive sonar is merely the act of listening to the sounds that are present in the sea. Active sonar is done by emitting a loud ping into the water and waiting for a return to be bounced off a metallic hull. Well, on hearing the sound of the sonar pings reverberate through his ship the Russian captain took evasive action and within minutes was gone. We then returned to our search area between Greenland and Norway, we still had a world to make safe.
World War II aircraft carriers were not equipped with an abundance of creature comforts. All the space was put to use to accomplish the ships primary mission. The goodies that the crew had purchased while on liberty in the foreign ports were stowed throughout the living and working spaces as best the owners could. Among those items was an assortment of Trolls purchased in Oslo, Norway by one Bernie Bauer.
Bernie had an air about him that would best be described as condescending and pompous. He had joined the Navy simply because the draft had chosen his number. He figured 4 years in the Navy was better than 2 years in the Army with one spent in the jungles of South Vietnam. He was nearing the end of his enlistment and was mad that the draft had ended after he began serving in the USN. Bernie felt that his military service had interrupted his progress toward becoming an architect.
As we neared the end of the deployment the division chief decided that we should hold a field day on the shop. The night shift which Bernie supervised had no idea of this decision. During the general clean-up someone inadvertently heaved Bernie’s Trolls into the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
The absence of the Trolls was noticed by those of us in the shop and we waited for Bernie to make his appearance that evening. Sure enough at about 7:00 pm Bernie entered the shop. At first he noticed the cleanliness of the place but then his eyes wandered to the place the Trolls had been stored. “Where are my Trolls?” He asked.
Without hesitation someone spoke up, “They’re swimming back to Norway!”
The silence that followed was deafening.
We had tracked a Russian nuke boat all the way across the Atlantic and when it neared the east coast of the United States we were certain our journey would be cut short because we were so close to our homeport of Quonset Point, Rhode Island. But no, the order was given to launch every available antisubmarine aircraft. Then at a set time all the helicopters which had been tracking the sub using passive sonar, were to begin active sonar tracking. Passive sonar is merely the act of listening to the sounds that are present in the sea. Active sonar is done by emitting a loud ping into the water and waiting for a return to be bounced off a metallic hull. Well, on hearing the sound of the sonar pings reverberate through his ship the Russian captain took evasive action and within minutes was gone. We then returned to our search area between Greenland and Norway, we still had a world to make safe.
World War II aircraft carriers were not equipped with an abundance of creature comforts. All the space was put to use to accomplish the ships primary mission. The goodies that the crew had purchased while on liberty in the foreign ports were stowed throughout the living and working spaces as best the owners could. Among those items was an assortment of Trolls purchased in Oslo, Norway by one Bernie Bauer.
Bernie had an air about him that would best be described as condescending and pompous. He had joined the Navy simply because the draft had chosen his number. He figured 4 years in the Navy was better than 2 years in the Army with one spent in the jungles of South Vietnam. He was nearing the end of his enlistment and was mad that the draft had ended after he began serving in the USN. Bernie felt that his military service had interrupted his progress toward becoming an architect.
As we neared the end of the deployment the division chief decided that we should hold a field day on the shop. The night shift which Bernie supervised had no idea of this decision. During the general clean-up someone inadvertently heaved Bernie’s Trolls into the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
The absence of the Trolls was noticed by those of us in the shop and we waited for Bernie to make his appearance that evening. Sure enough at about 7:00 pm Bernie entered the shop. At first he noticed the cleanliness of the place but then his eyes wandered to the place the Trolls had been stored. “Where are my Trolls?” He asked.
Without hesitation someone spoke up, “They’re swimming back to Norway!”
The silence that followed was deafening.
posted by Frank at 3:31 PM
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