My first Christmas on board the USS Midway (CV-41) was planned to be in port for an extended work period on the carrier. The Midway would go into Drydock 6 in Yokosuka, Japan, for work on the hull and a lot of other maintenance that accumulates over time. We were to enter drydock in late December 1981 and leave in late February or early March 1982.
On the trip to Yokosuka, we prepared the air wing to fly off all the aircraft to Atsugi, Japan, where the Navy shared an air base with the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force. We also spent a couple of days with a weapons resupply ship alongside, offloading a lot of the Midway’s weapons by highline and helicopter. While this was going on, most other work on the flight deck was suspended, except for aircraft maintenance on the forward flight deck and in some areas of the hangar deck.
Our first stop in Japan prior to returning to Yokosuka was at the Naval Weapons Station at Sasebo. Here, most of the ship was on liberty while the weapons department offloaded the ammunition. Thousands of pounds of bombs, missiles, and whatever else they had was brought up from the magazines and offloaded to trucks on the pier, to go to storage.
On the fourth day of liberty, a couple of us returned to the ship early. Once on board, we noticed that the crew was loading weapons on to the ship. We collared one of the ordnancemen and asked what he was doing; the bombs were going the wrong way. He told us he did not know, just get out of the way. These guys had been working long shifts for six days to get it all off the ship, and now they were bringing it all back. This went on all night.
The next morning, as soon as all the crew was on board, we departed Sasebo. Captain Charles McGrail came on the 1MC and told us that every year around Christmas, North Korea held a military exercise near the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ)—apparently to keep the Americans in South Korea from having a good holiday. The captain then went on to tell us that intelligence had determined the North Koreans had about ten times as many troops along the DMZ as normal. If they decided to try a push into South Korea, the Midway would have been empty of weapons, in port, unable to quickly respond.
So it was determined the Midway needed to be ready, off the coast of Korea, and off we went. Once clear of the coast and outside the normal shipping lanes, we met the ordnance ship that had offloaded our weapons. We kept the ship alongside for most of two days, reloading everything it had, making course corrections while in tension. Once we had all we needed, or all it had to give, we broke apart, and the weapons department finished striking the weapons below. When that was done, they started assembling what the air wing would need. All crew members who worked with weapons had to go through a specific training program, so we could not just volunteer to help. Once weapons were assembled, they came up on the ammunition hoists, and the squadron personnel loaded planes like there was no tomorrow.
I had booked a trip to go skiing in Hokkaido over Christmas. We did not know how long we would be standing off Korea, or if we would even be back for Christmas, so I decided to cancel my plans. The ship sent a message to the base at Yokosuka with the information to cancel the crew’s holiday trips.
With the aircraft loaded, the ordnancemen were finalizing the aircraft loads of missiles and bombs. To us, it looked like if an aircraft could fly, they were loading it. The aircrews were in the ready rooms receiving their final briefings. One-third of all aircrews were suited up and ready to go on 15-minute notice, at all times. We waited like this for about 36 hours, with the aircrews in rotation, so they could eat and get some rest. Part of the time, we had crews sitting in aircraft on the catapults on Alert 5, ready to respond.
Captain McGrail spoke to us on a regular basis, keeping us updated on what he knew and what he could tell us. He told us that North Korea was informed that the Midway was standing off the coast, loaded, and ready for action. Bring it on.
Where I worked in the maintenance shops, the tension was palpable. More work was being done in one shift than usually was accomplished in a day. The sense of urgency was very strong. Some of the sea lawyers were spouting off that nothing would happen; however, it was clear they were just as scared as everyone else.
Driving the concern in our workspace was that we had just half-inch plating between us and any North Korean patrol boats and their roughly 5-inch guns and 24-inch ship-to-ship missiles. Our shop was outside the ship’s hull, below the angle deck and out over the water. We had our gas masks prefitted and waiting in racks in case we needed them. We had learned that we could not close off the air-conditioning system from outside air. Whoever installed it back in the day had left that capability out of the plan.
Time went by slowly. We worked, ate, and tried to sleep when we could. Usually, most of the shop personnel would watch a movie on the ship’s TV system after the end of their shift and then go to bed. Now they lingered and waited for anything that might happen. Eventually they would wander off and try for a few hours’ sleep before drifting in again, an hour before their shift, when on a normal day, most of them showed up at the last minute.
At some point intelligence determined that North Korea had started moving troops and equipment away from the DMZ. With the threat reduced, the Midway was released, and we headed for Japan a second time. Again, we met the ordnance ship and offloaded everything we had. We later learned that the process of unloading the ordnance, reloading it on the Midway, and then unloading it back to the ordnance ship was a first in naval history. From what I have heard, this has never been done a second time.
We then proceeded toward Yokosuka, the air wing flew off, and we pulled into port late in the afternoon on 23 December 1981. I raced over to the base Morale, Welfare, and Recreation Office to ask about my trip to Hokkaido. The scheduling office had filled the trip with others who wanted to go, but the person there told me to come by the next morning anyway, as it was possible someone might not show up. I was there at 0530, bag in hand, on leave, with money in my pocket. Three of us were able to get on the trip, right there, to take the places of other people who did not show. We went on the bus to the airport, the base staff representative for the trip hand wrote the airline tickets, and off we went. I spent four days skiing around the Sapporo, Hokkaido area, and had a nice holiday.
A month or so after all this was over, I received a small newspaper clipping from my parents that mentioned some minor incident in Korea, and the Midway was named in the article. I wrote home a long letter outlining what I could say about it. My mom and dad were surprised to hear what “really happened” that did not make it into the paper.
I often have thought about what would have happened had North Korea pressed into South Korea anyway. Assuming the troops we were told about were actually there, we would have been on the leading edge of a second Korean War.
One lesson I took away from the experience is that Kim Jong Il apparently had great respect for aircraft carriers and their ability to be anywhere at any time. Part of this respect may have been earned during the Korean War, when several U.S. carriers continued to strike North Korean forces during their push south, when airfields were not available.
Maintaining a forward presence is expensive, and most people are unaware of events that are prevented. That is okay. Being on call is what the armed forces are all about, and they often are more effective when they do not advertise the “what and where” of what they do.
Even most of us who were off Korea in December 1981 did not grasp the full impact of what had happened and how important it was on the global scene. We hoped Captain McGrail and his staff did and would make the correct decisions. As the months passed, we had better perspective—nothing had happened because we were there.
When people ask about what I did when I was in the Navy, and whether it was worth it, I tell them to go home and sleep well, as there are more than a half-million men and women around the world looking out for them, even if they don’t know it.
