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The descent from a helicopter by a chaplain, so commonplace in today’s far-ranging fleet, has revived the image of the World War II sobriquet “Sky Pilot.” The captain of every ship needs a chaplain if his ship is to be “. . . under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” But the chaplain needs the captain, too.
During the nearly 17 years I have served as a chaplain in the U. S. Navy, 1 have worked both ways with you—the commanding officers.
One way was when you acknowledged my presence, made light talk, left me free to do my job as I saw fit, but never really seemed to notice or care. The other way was when you made me a part of your command, took an interest in my work and in me as a person, and showed at least as much care about me as you did other officers on your staff.
Which way, I ask you, do you think proved to be the most effective and the most beneficial for you, for all of the members of your command, and for me personally?
At present, 1 am assigned to Marine Aircraft Group 11 at the Marine Corps Air Station El Toro in Santa Ana, California. The first day on the job, my commanding officer greeted me this way:
“Father Doyle, welcome to MAG-11. I want you to be more than just the chaplain here. I want you to be one of us. And the way to do that is to be where we are—on the flight line, on deployments, in the ready room, in maintenance control.
“Do not sit in your office until the men come to you as their last desperate hope. Be with them before that so that you know them and identify their problems right in their work spaces. Not as a spy. Not as an MP. But as a concerned person.
“Get a flight suit on. Get down to the flight line. Get checked out to ride in the back seat of the Phantom. Go on the deployments to Fallon, Nevada, Twentynine Palms, and to “Red Flag” at Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas.
“I don’t expect to see you in my office. I don't expect to see you in your office. I expect to hear reports about where you are and what great work you are doing.
“Welcome to MAG-11!”
That is being made an instant member of the team- 1 wasted no time in getting a flight suit, visiting each squadron, going on the first deployment, and making it my top priority to be with the men whenever 1 could. But what if the commanding officer had seemed indifferent, talked about my previous duty stations, and made some comments about Notre Dame football? That happens in many cases. No wonder the chaplain anchors himself in his office waiting for the desperate to come in or the commanding officer to call. No wonder he visits the squadrons only periodically and regards deployments as something others do but of no particular concern to him.
Looking back, I know that the assignments in which I did the best and the ones which 1 loved the most were those in which the command made me a part of the team. Sometimes this happened instantly in the welcoming talk: in other instances, it occurred over a period of time as I became accepted in an atmosphere of teamwork which was already there. For example, when I was assigned to Service Group Three as a circuit-riding chaplain during the 1960s, I was on board a different ship every two weeks, for two years. 1 was able to observe that where there was either an atmosphere of teamwork or instant acceptance by the commanding officer, I was able to be effective on the job and feel good about my work and about myself. Indifference brought the opposite.
The best ship I rode during those two years was the USS Pollux (AKS-4). I didn’t even have to board her to ask if the skipper and exec wanted mass.
^hey took the initiative and invited me. I was met a* the quarterdeck and given a quick look around ae ship. The circuit-riding chaplain coming aboard an underway replenishment ship must often adjust 0 circumstances, take whatever space is available. and put up with a little confusion concerning times and announcements. But here it was just the op- P°site. I was taken to a clean, quiet, air-conditioned sPace. 1 heard a clear, loud announcement concerning the times of confessions and mass. I read . e plan of the day which also clearly stated the tlrUes and places of mass and confessions and urged afi Catholics to take advantage of the opportunity.
There were two servers for the mass, which was extremely well-attended. The captain, the executive officer, the supply officer, and another officer were ln the front row. After mass, they stopped to thank [Pe for coming, invited me to the wardroom, and atcr asked me to come aboard the ship and stay for a few weeks. Since the whole attitude of the com- 'Pund was of such marked interest. 1 could hardly rcfuse. I’m glad I didn't.
The attitude of interest displayed that day confined and increased every day for the next three Weeks. It was transmitted from captain and exec- ctive officer through the wardroom to the crew. The hardest part of the circuit-riding program is to be always available all over the ship. As an everyday occupation, this can be trying. On board the Pollux, because of the friendliness of the men everywhere, it was a pleasure. The Pollux provided space for consultations. The time and place were promulgated daily in the POD, at quarters in the morning, and over the ship’s loudspeaker system. I could go to the men at all times, but I also had times and places where the men could come to me. This may seem a small matter, but it certainly is not if a ship expects the work of a circuit-rider to be effective.
If space is a problem on board service ships, then time is an even bigger problem. Underway replenishments come at all hours. From the time the customer sends in an order, the hubbub begins. The orders are processed, the officers are closeted in prereplenishment briefings, the storekeepers are picking and packing, gunners’ mates are preparing the shot lines, and others are preparing the phone lines, high lines, rigs, and everything else necessary for the transfer operation. Meanwhile, the ship's normal routine goes on—a continual process of watch-standing, chipping, painting, repairing, training, mustering, and feeding. These activities cut deeply into sleeping time, eating time, and what little recreation time there is. Where does that leave time for divine services or Bible study or instructions or inquiry classes?
ifhe Pollux had the necessary initiative and interest and care to overcome these limitations. She provided both the space and time that were necessary to carry on a meaningful program. The Catholic lay leader made the crew aware of times and places and opportunities for mass, confession, counseling, discussions, and the like. The Protestant lay leader invited me to give the message at the Sunday services and to preview with him some religious films for the men of other faiths. The lay leaders realized that I was the chaplain for all of the men on board the Pollux, not just for the Catholics.
Only on board the very busy Pollux was 1 ever offered the services of a yeoman for any official work that I wanted done. Only on board the busy
Memorial service is held on the flight deck of the USS Enterprise (CVAN-65). Cooperation between a ship’s commanding officer and chaplain is vital if religion is to make an important contribution to crew morale.
Pollux was time taken for grace before every meal. And no day ended on board the Pollux, no matter how hard or how long it had been, without a prayer of thanks to God and a request for His protection throughout the night. The whole atmosphere was chaplain-centered during three weeks when she replenished 175 ships, delivered 24,000 line items, and set a standard for service and supply that set her reputation as the busiest of all supply ships. This is a ship which was 25 years old, homeported in Japan so that she never rotated back to the United States, and was expected to keep up with the sleek, new Mars (AFS-1), which was also homeported in Yokosuka. In short, the Pollux had many reasons for low morale, but the morale of her crew was the best in the Western Pacific. Profanity and loose talk were practically nonexistent. Why? Because the captain and the executive officer were on top of every detail of every underway replenishment. When there was information available, either the captain announced it or the exec printed it in the plan of the day. When the replenishment was especially good, the captain personally congratulated the men. He also singled out individuals for outstanding performances.
Both knew every man in the ship personally. They attended cookouts, rock-and-roll sessions, and ship's parties in port. Their work in the people-
to-people program would make a story in itself; almost every port benefited from Pollux charity. Each birthday received attention and congratulations. When I came aboard, there was a note of welcome; when I left, there was a note of thanks. These are little things, but they all make a person feel a part of the program.
Another ship I rode was exactly the opposite. There was neither a welcome aboard nor an atmosphere of acceptance. There was widespread negativism about everything, and I was included in it- 1 slept in a stateroom with the most junior officer on board. Not only was it the smallest stateroom in the ship, but it also doubled as the storeroom for all of the stereo gear purchased overseas. I had to climb over and around boxes to get to bed. In a storm one evening, the boxes broke loose and the stereos smashed all over that room all evening. There was nothing we could do but let it happen. Daily mass was scheduled for 0500 by the executive officer. It was to be held in the radio transmitter room, the smallest space in the ship. If that isn’t a message about value, I do not know what is. Needless to say, no one attended mass. Few came for counseling, and most picked up the attitude of the command that the ship could care less if I were on board or not.
Another ship that I visited during that period claimed to be the largest, fastest, and most modern replenishment ship in the U. S. Navy. The vessel did the work of three ships, because she was a combination oiler, food, and ammunition supply ship- She set records galore, but unfortunately, recordsetting was her only mission. Everything was numbers and records. The overwhelming drive to go fast
and set new records dehumanized everyone. Morale Was nonexistent. Chaplain services had no effect on record-setting, so they were disregarded.
Another ship had such a habitability problem that morale was always low. She was too small, too hot, and too fragile. All attention went to survival. The quarters were the most cramped I have ever seen. There was no air-conditioning, and there were blowers blowing heat everywhere. My room was like a Postage stamp and shared by the junior officer. The bulkhead next to my head when 1 lay down was always red-hot. Most nights I slept out on deck with as many others as could find space out there. There was hardly any water because the evaporators were always down. We waited for rainy days then went °n deck with a bar of soap to wash ourselves and do our laundry. If men have to endure conditions bke that to survive, or if they get caught up in dehumanizing record-setting, then there is not much chance for the command to build morale by making each one feel a part of the team. And the Navy chaplain with only a week or two on board can hardly be expected to make any impression given •hese circumstances.
Chaplains are at their best when they are regarded as invaluable and unique members of a team. They Can bring talents and expertise and assistance that no one else can. They can be key individuals within the command. Don’t shut them out. Give them a chance. Commanding officers are responsible for the atmosphere of their commands. This takes time and effort, but the time and effort are worthwhile, ^ho doesn't want high morale? Who doesn't want People who feel good about themselves, their jobs, their commands, and the U. S. Navy and Marine Corps overall? The chaplain can and will be valuable and effective in this atmosphere, but don’t look on him as a “crying towel.”
Set an atmosphere of acceptance, make the chap- tain a part of your team, and publicly support his ministry. He will do wonders. No command I have ever heard of did this better than the USS Ticon- deroga (CVA-14). The chaplain was not only included in everything, he was invited to strike out °n his own to do any innovative things he wanted. I had a television show in prime time between the six o’clock news and the seven o’clock movie. I had group discussions unlimited—the blacks, the Filipinos, the messmen.
The captain worked hard at communicating with everyone. He visited each one at his place of work. He knew everyone, and he knew everything that was happening on board. He was constantly going beneath the surface of problems to questions of responsibility. He wanted to know not only the men themselves, but how they felt about themselves and about their jobs and about the Navy. So to find out more, he made this announcement:
“I am forming a people board this month for the purpose of getting direct input to me from all rates and ranks concerning our living and working relationships on ‘Tico.’ The board will have representation of each rate from seaman, fireman and airman apprentice, to master chief, to ensign and lieutenant junior grade. I want to know what you want, or where we have problems, and I want to know directly. This procedure is not intended to bypass the chain of command, but it may allow me to be more responsive to things that need attention.”
At the first meeting, the captain set the tone by saying:
“The purpose of this board is to provide me a direct source of information concerning the men on this ship and how they feel about the ship, their jobs, their leaders, their shipmates, and themselves. Where there are problems, we want to try to solve them.
“I have a two-point policy. The first is that 1 set the standards very high and I demand they be adhered to. And the second is this: there is not a man who is not important. Every man should be given knowledge of his job, how to do it, and made constantly aware of when he is doing it well and when poorly. Every man should be given the opportunity for advancement in rate, for a chance at schooling and for transfer to other duty. Every man should enjoy a decent environment with decent relations with everyone else aboard. Every man should have time for his personal needs, his medical and dental care. I urge you all to do your best to make this ship and this people board a success.”
That people board was a great success. It contributed to the morale of the ship and made the USS Ticonderoga a pleasure to serve in. It should be and could be that way in every command.
We are all in the system—commanding officers, chaplains, everyone. Let’s make it work and work perfectly. We can do it together. We create the environment we live in; let’s make it an environment of peace, acceptance, and love.
Commander Doyle served on aclive duty from 1944 to 1946 and'then went to Boston University, graduating with a bachelor’s degree in journalism in 1950. He received a bachelor of arts in philosophy trom Oblate College, Washington, D.C., in 1958 and a master of arts in English from Catholic University in Washington, D.C., also in 1958. He taught high school from I960 to 1965 in Buffalo, New York, then was commissioned a chaplain in June 1965. He has since served in a number of assignments, including Service Group Three, the USS Ticonderoga (CVA-14), Naval Training Center, San Diego, Naval Education and Training Center. Pensacola, and Marine Corps air stations at Beaufort. South Carolina, lwakuni. Japan, and El Toro. California. He is now chaplain for Marine Air Group 11.