Carrier: A Guided Tour of an Aircraft Carrier

When James A. Michener wrote these words almost forty-five years ago, carrier decks were straight and made of wood, and the first generation of jet naval aviators were still learning to fly off them. Carriers, jets, and piloting have changed greatly since then, yet the words ring as true today as they did then.

Naval aviators are a national treasure. They are, first of all, America's front-line combat aviators. Much like their Marine Corps brethren, when there is trouble out there, they expect to be the first called. Though this is an attractive challenge for some people, there is more to the naval aviation profession than just being first in line to be shot at. Flying for the sea services requires unique dedication and skills (such as exceptional eyesight and hand-eye coordination under stress), and demands sacrifices that other military pilots don't even have to imagine-all of which has endowed naval aviation with a (mostly) well-justified mystique.

Flying on and off aircraft carriers is a big part of that mystique. There is an old saying among pilots that flying is not inherently dangerous, just very unforgiving. Though there are no truer words, there are also notable exceptions-"trapping" aboard a rolling and pitching aircraft carrier deck on a stormy night, for instance. It is this skill-landing aboard a moving flight deck in all sorts of conditions-that most clearly differentiates naval aviators from all other pilots. There is simply no way to compare flying from a runway on a land base with the stress and responsibility that sea service pilots have to contend with every time they launch. Every time you take off from a carrier, you leave knowing that you might not find your way back onto the "boat" and will have to eject into a hostile ocean. Clearly, there is more at stake than just a $50 million airplane (and a career). Mastering the stress and responsibility of such flying requires a special kind of flier.

Fortunately for Navy fliers, achieving that mastery is not laid solely on their shoulders. They don't have to do it alone. Since naval aviation is only a fraction of the size of the U.S. Air Force, everyone knows everyone else-and pays attention to everyone else. It's a lot like being part of a college fraternity (for good and for bad). Or-to put it more precisely-U.S. Naval aviation is a collection of small communities (F-14, F/A-18, EA-6B, etc.) in which an aviator spends his or her life for upwards of two decades. The good news here is that there's lots of support. The bad news is that aviators are hugely competitive. Your peers are always keeping score.

Such a world creates larger-than-life personalities-powerfully evolved human beings at the top of the food chain. To succeed you need a cast-iron ego, a lightning intellect, an excess of ambition, and fluent social skills. And the most successful have the ability to spread all this to others in their profession.

The Navy likes to train its air crews hard. Frankly, they train the hell out of them. While other services emphasize providing officers with a "well-rounded" career, naval aviators in front-line units focus on getting ready for battle. This is not to say that Navy fliers are liberated from down-to-earth duties. They do paperwork like anybody else. Rather, the forward-deployed focus of the Navy requires more emphasis on combat training than usually is provided for the "garrison" units of the Army and USAF. An average naval aviator will spend fully half of his time getting ready to fight and staying proficient. While naval aviators fly about the same number of hours every month as their USAF counterparts, how and when they fly is vastly different. More of their flying is focused on actual combat and tactical training. And there is an almost manic devotion to flight safety, requiring extraordinary amounts of study and practice.

When a carrier air wing (CVW) is preparing to deploy, the air crews spend fully six months training and qualifying to prove their readiness for the job. This is concentrated training, with the entire CVW deploying to a special air warfare training center at Naval Air Station (NAS) Fallon, Nevada, for several weeks to learn composite strike warfare. Just before their deployment, they fly in a series of joint war games, which normally have higher operations tempos (Optempos) than actual warfare. Thus, by the time a naval aviator heads out to the carrier to begin his six-month overseas deployment, he is one of the best-prepared combat aviators in the world. That is not bragging. Consider, for instance, that no U.S. naval aviator has been shot down in air-to-air combat since 1972, and that in a generation of combat from Vietnam to Desert Storm, naval aviators have accumulated an average kill-loss ratio in the neighborhood of 17:1.

Along with the dangerous flying, the life of a naval aviator brings with it the expectation of long overseas deployments, usually lasting six months or more. A "normal" twenty-year career might send an officer on eight or ten of these "cruises." Once a carrier group is forward-deployed, even in relatively "friendly" waters like the western Pacific or the Mediterranean, the aircraft always (even when training) fly with live ordnance loaded. This means that when you are on cruise, the only difference between peacetime and combat flying is the position of the Master Arm switch on the control panel in front of you. As a result, national leaders have to put a lot of trust in individual naval aviators. With only the judgment of a young pilot between the President and a potential act of war, you can understand why they are trained so hard, and held to such exacting standards.

Naval Aviation Culture

Though I've met fighter pilots that enjoy getting shot at and being missed (they love living at that high pitch of excitement), by any true measure, no war is a good war. War is in no way "fun." Still, for the young men who served in it, World War II was the best of wars. They had good airplanes to fly, enemies to fight who were real enemies, and a just victory to win. American industry produced splendid aircraft (like the F-6F Hellcat and TBF/TBM Avenger) in which a young man with a couple of years of college and five hundred hours of flight training could expect to fly safely into combat, return to base, and go up to fight again. All kinds of young men flew into combat off carrier decks, from movie actors and Kansas farm boys to future U.S. Presidents. The string of victories that they achieved-Midway, Coral Sea, Leyte Gulf, and many others-testifies to the Navy's skill and wisdom in deploying and fighting naval aviation.

The key to this success was the vast array of training bases, which turned out naval aviators and crews by the tens of thousands. By comparison, as the war went more and more against them, the Japanese and Germans turned out air crews with ever fewer and fewer flying hours of training. American naval aviation leaders considered it a crime to let a young "nugget"[16] into the fleet with less than five hundred hours of flight time. Instead of leaving combat veterans in the fight until they died, as the Axis nations did, American naval aviators (often against their wishes) were sent home after a combat tour to rest and train new pilots before returning to combat. In that way, the veterans got a chance to recharge their batteries while the rookies got the benefit of their experience.

This meant practically that late in the war (the Battles of the Philippine Sea and Leyte Gulf in 1944, for example), American carrier air groups were being led by second- and third-tour commanders (O-5's). The Japanese units were lucky to have lieutenants (O-2's) with a few hundred flying hours. The results were predictable. In repeated one-sided victories, the Americans shot their opponents out of the air at a ratio of over ten to one.[17] So effective was the American juggernaut that the Japanese had to resort to Kamikaze suicide planes to try to stop the onslaught. But this too failed. Naval aviation had won the Great Pacific War, making the island assaults by Marine and Army units possible, as well as helping sweep the seas of enemy naval units. When surrender finally came, following the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the bombs were more an excuse than a reason.

How, you might ask, did the war impact on the culture of naval aviation in the U.S.? It gave it a tradition of success and confidence-success and confidence built on intense training. This tradition would hold, even in the dark days of Vietnam and the years following that horror.

Corrosion: The Vietnam Years

Even before the end of the Korean War, new carriers had been laid down, and a new generation of supersonic jets began to appear on their decks. Every month seemed to bring a new carrier aircraft, weapon, or innovation. This was a very good time for Naval aviation. Out of it came, for example, many of the astronauts who would take America into space and to the moon. There was a downside, however. The new jets were unreliable-their new engines being both underpowered and prone to fires and explosions. The practical consequence: Naval aviation, always a dangerous profession, became truly deadly. Naval aviators, always high-spirited and daring both in the air and their personal lives, began to take on a fatalistic attitude about their chances of reaching retirement age. The result was a "live for today" mentality, which they took with them into the 1960's and Vietnam.

This fatalism grew exponentially with the start of the Vietnam conflict, when losses to naval aviators who flew missions over Southeast Asia were staggering (due to enemy ground fire, surface-to-air missiles (SAMs), and MiG interceptors), and the chances of surviving a twenty-year Navy flying career became almost nil. Desperate for combat-ready air crews, and unable to send veteran Naval aviators on more than two "war" cruises because of personnel policies, the Navy suffered a severe pilot "crunch" during the conflict. Worse than just a shortage of fliers were the corrosive effects of the conflict itself on the culture of the community as a whole. Atlantic Fleet air crews, whose carriers rarely rotated to Southeast Asia, became almost second-class citizens next to the combat-hardened veterans from the Pacific Fleet. Even worse was the effect on the morale and morals of the aviators who went to Vietnam and came home.

Vietnam was a winless war for naval aviators. They lost their first comrades months prior to the Gulf of Tonkin Incident in 1964, and were the last Americans "feet dry" during the evacuation from Saigon in 1975. During the intervening dozen or so years, the Navy kept two or three aircraft carriers continually on "Yankee Station" (the U.S. code name for the carrier operating area in the northern Tonkin Gulf) as part of the bombing campaigns against North Vietnamese forces. It was a new kind of war for the Airedales,[18] most of who had grown up in the "Doomsday" mentality of the Cold War. Now they were saddled by absurd ROE ("rules of engagement"), guidance on targets, tactics, and weapons use. The brilliant but ultimately wrongheaded Secretary of Defense, Robert S. McNamara, and his crew of "whiz kids" devised this absurd situation. In one of the greatest military blunders in a century full of military misfortune, they failed to listen to on-scene commanders about how the air war should be fought. Instead, they tried to "micro-manage" the war from afar, and turned it into one of the worst military fiascos in America's history.

Denied the means to victory, the pilots on the carriers flew daily from Yankee Station, getting shot down, captured, and killed in numbers that still numb modern-day historians.[19] Their mission: not to take effective military action that could lead to victory, but to deliver to an enemy "political messages" from leaders in Washington who did not understand that the enemy did not care to listen to those messages. To say that air crews suffered a great deal of job-related stress is an understatement.

In any group that regularly undergoes stress, tragedy, and the insanity of a "limited" war, the survivors bond in unique ways. Thus it was with Vietnam-era naval aviators. They had faced off with death, and won (never forget that fighter pilots are incredibly competitive). They were the possessors of "the Right Stuff," the keepers of the magic combination of courage, ego, and skills that allowed them to accomplish with fiendish precision actions that no machine could reliably repeat day after day. They were true warriors who-after the day's fighting was over-could imagine nothing better than to spend their off-duty time only with each other.

Soon, the entire naval aviation community had isolated itself, not only from American society in general, but even from the Navy that took them into battle. The result was a subculture that lived in the air wing spaces aboard ship and in the officers' clubs of the liberty ports (like Cubi Point in the Philippines) and home bases. Quite simply, naval aviators fresh from combat were permitted almost any behavior short of murder. This included drinking parties in the air wing berthing spaces on Yankee Station and wild sexual antics back at base, as long as they could get up the next day and fly again. Ships' captains and squadron commanders were not simply turning a blind eye on this madness of youth. The wild behavior of naval aviators was actually sanctioned and tolerated by senior Navy leaders all the way up to the Pentagon. The rationale was that the ugly nature of the Vietnam war entitled naval aviators to "blow off steam" in an equally ugly fashion. The fallout was a dozen years of drunken antics, womanizing, and wild partying anytime the air crews were not actually flying or in combat.

The effects of the Vietnam-inspired debauchery remained an integral part of naval aviation culture for a generation. Even though the end of the war restored a modicum of peacetime decorum to life aboard ship (alcohol under way became a major no-no!), it left a lasting mark on the souls of naval aviators. They now saw themselves as the keepers of a special tribal knowledge-the deep and esoteric knowledge only they possessed, that told them how wartime carrier operations had to be run. As tribal elders, they saw it as an imperative of their calling to pass their tribal knowledge on to the next generation of naval aviation leaders. Thus, when the junior officers who came of age during Vietnam became squadron commanders and carrier captains, they passed on to the new aviators they commanded the hard-drinking, hard-living, womanizing, daredevil culture that they grew up with. It would become a ticking time bomb.

The remaining years of the Cold War saw naval aviation and its personnel safely insulated from the great social changes that were taking place in American society. While the air crews went out on their regular rotations and cruises, thanks to the protection of their senior leaders, they lived in a virtual stasis, immune to outside forces, totally disconnected from the civilian culture. A disaster was waiting to happen. The storm hit in 1991 at the Las Vegas Hilton.

Dry Rot: The End of the Cold War

During the two decades following Vietnam, the civil rights and women's movements transformed American society. During those same two decades, those revolutions barely touched the military in general, the sea services in particular, and naval aviation least of all. In spite of reformers like Admiral Elmo Zumwalt (Chief of Naval Operations in the early 1970's), the culture of naval aviation remained unchanged.[20] As ever, it was a professional haven for middle-class white males, with strong second- and third-generation family associations. But a funny thing happened on the way to Desert Storm: Naval aviation found itself-slowly, reluctantly-setting off on the same road the rest of America was traveling.

The desegregation of the military began as far back as the late 1940s, when President Harry S. Truman issued an executive order to that effect. However the order had very little immediate effect on Naval aviation, for few Americans of color chose to make that a profession. Still, a tiny cadre of brave young men took the plunge; and the first of these, Jesse Brown, gave his life in combat while flying during the Korean War. Sacrifices like Brown's and others' went a long way toward validating minority naval aviators. The admission of women into naval aviation took much longer. Un-fortunately,their acceptance there, with anything like real equality, remains to be achieved. All the same, the feminist revolution changed the U.S. military-even naval aviation-forever.

Broader questions still remain: Does humankind need women to be warriors? Does human nature demand it? Do equal rights before the law demand it? I'm not going to hazard an answer to these questions. But there's a much easier one I can safely field: Will women serve in combat in United States military services? The answer to that one, of course, is "yes." They already have and do. In principle, at least, there is no combat action that qualified women cannot handle. Meanwhile, fueled by the new all-volunteer military of the 1970s, the military began to recruit large numbers of women into the ranks. Initially they were limited to non-combatant and support jobs. But before long, the understanding of "non-combatant" and "support" began to change, and with those changes came an expansion of women's roles. By the early 1980s, they were flying transport aircraft and helicopters, as well as training and support aircraft.

But female naval aviators still remained landlocked, due to restrictions on women serving aboard ships. These restrictions, I should point out, were legal, not naval. That is to say, the legislation that restricted the role of women aboard ships-and still restricts the roles of women in combat-is contained in Title 10 of the U.S. Federal Code, which must be amended and approved by Congress. Professional military officers may have opinions about the rights and wrongs of these restrictions (which they are obligated to keep to themselves), but the ultimate responsibility for them goes higher up the ladder of government than the rungs they occupy.

In any case, the lot of women in naval aviation during the late stages of the Cold War was anything but pleasant. Since they were effectively barred from front-line fighter, support, and attack units, they would never have the command and promotion opportunities of their male counterparts, which went to "combat" air crews, thus making women second-class citizens in the military. The end of the Cold War in 1989 changed all that. Twice during the Bush years, American forces were committed to combat, in Operations Just Cause (Panama) and Desert Shield/Storm (Persian Gulf). During both operations (notwithstanding Title 10 and other limitations), women were prominently involved in combat operations. Several women commanded units in actual combat, though in "support" roles (military police, Patriot SAM batteries, transport helicopters, etc.). Some became prisoners of war (POWs), and a few died. After women performed in both conflicts with professionalism and bravery, Americans back home could not help but question the restrictions that kept them out of combat units.

Soon after the Gulf War, Congress rapidly amended Title 10, and opened up to women a variety of combat positions that had previously been reserved for male personnel. Women could now fill combat air crew slots and serve aboard warships. By the fall of 1997, only ground combat units (infantry, artillery, armor, etc.), special operations, and submarines remain barred to women. In fact, less than two years after the end of Desert Storm, the services were racing each other to put the first women into the cockpits of combat aircraft. Unfortunately, the change did not come smoothly.

The Air Force's first female bomber pilot, for example, was forced to resign over an adultery charge, all played before a noisy media circus. The Navy's first female fighter pilot died trying to eject from an F-14 Tomcat during a failed approach to the USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN-74). These lapses and failures, whatever you care to call them, didn't make life easier for other women flying in potential combat slots. But the greater failure remained in the cultural bias against female aviators. Also, male pilots had a legitimate beef. For in the force drawdown following the Cold War, many male naval aviators were "laid off" and forcibly sent into the civilian job market. Longtime naval aviators couldn't help but resent the invasion of women (in the name of perceived "political correctness") to replace their longtime male buddies. The cultural bias of these men, dating back to Vietnam, condemned such "social engineering" changes. So, predictably, early female naval aviators suffered harassment and hostility from the males they flew with.

But then, on the Labor Day weekend of 1991, some very ugly events happened at the Las Vegas Hilton Hotel, which blew up into the scandal called the "Tailhook Incident." Tailhook soon turned into an international indictment of the sea services' treatment of women in uniform. A yearly convention of naval aviators and their supporters in Las Vegas, Nevada, Tailhook had long had a reputation for drinking and wild behavior.[21] But Tailhook 1991 went over the top, when several female naval officers and other women were allegedly molested by drunk and out-of-control naval aviators. After one woman officer reported what had happened to her commanding officer and he refused to take action (other officers then and later lied about and tried to cover up the Tailhook events), she went to the Navy's criminal investigators. An official investigation was started, and the scandal hit the media.

Meanwhile, the Navy so badly botched the investigation that no convictions were obtained against the officers accused of assaulting women. And then Navy leaders lost control of the situation, resulting in the forced resignations of several high-ranking civilian and military leaders. In the process, thousands of naval officers, most of whom were not even there, had their careers harmed by the political fallout. Yet the botched investigation and the Navy's political folly were hardly the problem. Much less was it that naval officers had gotten drunk, molested women, and then lied about it (though this was bad enough). The problem was the hard-drinking, hard-living, womanizing, daredevil, isolated tribal culture of naval aviation. Naval aviators, a bastion of male exclusivity, had made it painfully clear that they did not want women in their combat flying units, and they had made their displeasure widely known. There would be further problems. But-slowly-progress was coming.

Naval Aviators in the Post-Tailhook Era

Though it has come at a high price, and with many fits and starts, much has changed in the culture of Navy flying since "Tailhook." Women in ever-greater numbers are serving aboard combat vessels. Every carrier group that deploys today has female air crews, along with a growing population of women aboard the ships that they fly from. From helicopter pilots flying off the back of escort vessels to fighter pilots flying patrols in no-fly zones, women have arrived and are in to stay. In the process, many longtime Navy traditions have gone by the wayside. Some of the changes have been as simple as the new rule that every person aboard ship sleep with (at least) a T-shirt and underwear on, to avoid "exposures" in a passageway at night; and sailors have learned to knock and wait for permission to enter female quarters. More substantially, ships have been rebuilt with separate berthing areas and heads (sleeping and shower areas). The result has been the greatest single change in Navy culture since the arrival of the all-volunteer force in the mid-1970's. Along the way, the Navy has learned important lessons about the effective integration of women into units and cultures that they previously have not been part of. These include:

• Critical Mass-Human beings are not built to handle difficult jobs alone. Without like-minded companions to share problems and solutions, emotions and trials, an individual can too easily give up, or bend under pressure. Thus women on board ships need other women to share their experiences with (just as men have other men). Armed with that realization, the Navy no longer drops women on their own into a squadron or wing, but puts a few women together-a concept the Navy calls "critical mass." Now that women have other women for support, the stresses of being "new" and "different" in the male-dominated world of naval aviation can be better managed. So now you'll find three or four women in each flying squadron where there are women, or none at all. This "critical mass" allows a young female "nugget" to survive the emotional rigors of her first fleet assignment.

• Recruiting-While "critical mass" helps integrate women into particular units, finding enough women to do the job is another matter. Recruiting qualified women is not easy. Because corporate America is already working hard to hire those few women (and minority) college graduates who master "hard" subjects like math, sciences, engineering, and computers, the pool available to join the military is quite limited. Many of the women attracted to the military choose to join the Army and Air Force, where the culture is less difficult for them to adapt to. Quite simply, the sea services have done a poor job of selling themselves to women (and minority) candidates, and will need to do a better job in the future.

• Standards-Since flying is unforgiving, strict standards of performance and proficiency among all aviators must be observed, a lesson the Navy has learned painfully. Cutting corners only produces failure, the loss of $50 million aircraft, and grieving families. The female naval aviators that are making it in today's squadrons are not cutting corners, nor have corners been cut in order to put them in a cockpit. They are doing it right! This means that they are doing everything that their male counterparts are expected to do in the cockpit, to the same standards; and this, more than anything else, has brought the acceptance of female naval aviators at the unit level.

• Training-Our society does little to prepare men and women for living and working in the kinds of conditions that a modern Navy imposes upon personnel. After the failures exemplified by "Tailhook" and the tribal culture of naval aviation, the Navy has started a series of mandatory leadership seminars for officers spaced at various points in their careers. At the same time, all Navy personnel have been given sensitivity training to improve their understanding of how professional relationships between officers and sailors of the opposite sex are supposed to work in the modern military. The Navy's justification for these educational efforts is not "political correctness." Rather, since families and schools train ever fewer young people today in civics, manners, and social skills, the sea services feel that it is up to them to make sure their people know these skills and can act accordingly. Manners do count!

All of these initiatives have started to "level" the naval aviation playing field for women, and allowed them to gain a foothold in fleet aviation units. Still, some things cannot be mandated or trained into professional warriors. You can't teach a young "nugget" how to become "one of the boys" in his or her first squadron, for instance. Doing that is especially tough, even if you are equipped with a "Y" chromosome. All naval aviators, no matter what their sex, must be "bonded" into their squadron if they are to survive the emotional and character-building strains that they will face on their first real "cruise." First-tour naval aviators are traditionally "pushed" by the members of their squadrons, and for good reason. The pressure dished out in the ready rooms is designed to separate the winners from the "also-rans."

Lots of male naval aviators fail to survive their first squadron assignments due to the pressure, and so have many of the women who have tried. Frankly, some of these women have shown every bit as much personal courage as civil rights pioneers like James Meredith and Rosa Parks. They have gone where no other women have been before, and the survivors are frequently among the best in their class groups upon graduation. They have to be.

Meanwhile, future squadron and air wing commanders will have to show greater sensitivity and leadership to the conditions of all "nugget" aviators, women included. This may help the entire naval aviation community, since keeping more junior officers after their first tours means fewer personnel will have to be trained. At over a million dollars per trainee, that quickly adds up to real money.

Raw Material: Recruiting

How exactly does one go about becoming a naval aviator? Let's take a quick tour of a hypothetical naval aviation career. Though this may seem like a bit of ego puffery, it's not: Young people choose to try out for naval aviation because they want to be among the "best of the best." If you can launch and land a modern aircraft from the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, cruiser, destroyer, frigate, or amphibious ship, you will never have to justify your flying skills to anyone. Nobody else-not the Israelis, British, not even our own U.S. Air Force-makes pilots better than the USN. Much like Marine Corps basic training, which produces the world's finest combat riflemen, the Navy trains fliers with basic flying and combat skills that are unsurpassed. Of course the USAF and others train excellent combat aviators. That goes without saying. However, when you want superb combat skills, and the ability to fly off of a rolling and pitching deck at night in rough weather, you'd better plan on calling the Navy for the air crews.

What kind of person does the Navy want to fly its airplanes? For starters, he or she has to be a college graduate from an accredited four-year university.[22] Prior to World War II, the Naval Academy supplied the majority of naval aviation cadets. But when the war demanded a vastly expanded pool of air crews, the requirements for naval aviation cadets were lowered to completion of just two years of college. Today, the sea services feel that the responsibility for flying a fifty-million-dollar aircraft (with more computing and sensor power than a whole fleet just a generation ago) should go to someone with a university education. For a modern pilot will have to be a systems operator, tactician, and athlete, as well as a naval officer with duties to lead and manage.

Once you have the college degree, and assuming that you want to fly over the water for your country, that your eyesight and physical condition are good, and that you can pass the required batteries of mental and coordination tests, what else do you need? First, you need to be an officer in the U.S. Navy or U.S. Marine Corps.[23] If you are a graduate of the Naval Academy (or, for that matter, West Point or Colorado Springs), then you have automatically earned a reserve officer's commission as an ensign or 2nd lieutenant.[24] The same is true if you have completed an accredited Reserve Officers Training Corps (ROTC) program at a university. However, if you are a simple college graduate with an ambition to fly for the sea services, then there are several Officer Candidate Schools (OCSs) that can give you the basic skills as a Navy or Marine Corps officer, as well as the commission. Though there were once a number of these schools around the country, today there are just two, one at Quantico, Virginia, for the Marines, and the Navy school at Pensacola, Florida. However you get the commission to ensign/2nd lieutenant (O-1), the path to the cockpit of an aircraft in the sea services starts at Naval Air Station (NAS) Pensacola.

NAS Pensacola: Cradle of Naval Aviation

NAS Pensacola, on the shore of the bay whose name it borrows, was originally founded as a Naval Aeronautical Station in 1914. But the region's relationship with the Navy goes back much further. The bay itself, discovered in the 16th century by the Spanish explorer Don Tristan de Luna, attracted official U.S. Navy interest in the early 1800s because of its proximity to high-quality timber reserves, a staple of l9th century shipbuilding. Starting in 1825, the Navy built yard facilities near the site of the present-day NAS. From this Naval station came patrols that suppressed the slave trade and piracy in the mid-1800s. Destroyed by retreating Confederate forces during the Civil War, the base was rebuilt shortly after the end of that conflict. Severely damaged again by hurricane and tidal events in 1906, the excellent location and facilities proved too valuable to surrender to the elements, and the base was not only rebuilt, but also expanded.

Pensacola's association with naval aviation began in 1913, when recommendations were made to establish an aviation training station in a location with a year-round climate that was favorable to the needs of early aviators. Opened in 1914, it was the home to a rapidly expanding aviation force that by the end of World War I included fixed-wing aircraft, seaplanes, dirigibles, and even kites and balloons! But the lean years following the war meant that only about a hundred new aviators per year were being trained. That time ended in the 1930s with the creation of Naval Aviation Cadet Training Program, which was designed to expand the air crew population in anticipation of the coming world war. To support the growth in the training program, several other training bases were constructed, including NAS Corpus Christi, Texas, and NAS Jacksonville, Florida. Eventually, the combined U.S. naval flight training facilities were turning out over 1,100 new naval aviators a month, though this was reduced following the end of World War II. On average, during the Korean and Vietnam Wars, about two thousand naval aviators a year were trained to meet wartime requirements, while more peaceful times saw that number drop to around 1,500. Today, NAS Pensacola is the home of a still-robust naval air crew training capability.

Training: Into the Pipeline

Soon after an aviation cadet arrives at Pensacola, he or she has to make a major decision: whether to train to become a Naval Aviator (NA-pilot) or Naval Flight Officer (NFO-airborne systems operator). Or rather, just about everybody starts out wanting to be pilots, but then the decision about which way to go is often made for them when the vision test results come in. Eyesight is the first great pass/fail point among fliers. In general, the services look for good distance vision, though excellent night vision is also desired. Many of those who wind up as NFOs do so because they fail the initial eyesight cut for pilots. As it happens, though, life as an NFO very rarely proves disappointing. More often than you might believe, squadron and air wing commands are won by NFOs, many of whom have been noted for their superior leadership and management skills.

Whichever career path beckons the incoming cadets, they all start training in the same classroom. Specifically, there's a six-week course known as Aviation Preflight Indoctrination (API), which comprises a syllabus designed to bring all of the Student Naval Aviators (SNAs) and Student Naval Flight Officers (SNFOs) up to a common knowledge and skill base. API covers aerodynamics, engineering, navigation, and physiology. Along with the classroom work, the students receive physical training in water survival, physical conditioning, and emergency escape procedures. API "levels" the skill base of the cadets, and provides a fighting chance to those who did not (for example) study physics or computer science in college. When API is completed, the training pipeline splits into two separate conduits. One of these is the Primary Flight Training (PFT) pipeline for SNFOs, while the other is for SNAs wanting to pilot Naval aircraft.

Pilot Training: The SNA Pipeline

SNA PFT is designed to teach pretty much the same basic flight skills that a civilian would need to obtain a private pilot's license. It consists of some sixty-six hours of flight training, as well as a syllabus of ground classroom and simulator training. The actual flight training includes basic aerobatics, formation flying, and military flight procedures. This is quite similar to that of the Army and USAF. However, the way that training is conducted has recently changed a great deal for all U.S. military air personnel. These changes have resulted from the 1986 Goldwater-Nichols defense reform legislation. Specifically, Goldwater-Nichols encouraged the Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps to find ways to combine common tasks into "joint" (i.e., multi-service) programs and units. The consequence for pilot training has been to combine primary/undergraduate flight training, as well as training for a number of different missions and airframes. To that end, the services have established joint training squadrons around the country. They have further teamed up to build a new common primary/undergraduate trainer, the T-6A Texan II, which will enter service in 1999. Based upon the Swiss Pilatus PC-9 turboprop trainer, it will provide a truly economical joint training solution for primary/undergraduate flight training.

Thus a young SNA going through PFT in 1997 might be found at Vance AFB near Enid, Oklahoma. Assigned to the 8th Flying Training Squadron (FTS), he will have done his PFT flight training in an Air Force T-37B, in a joint unit commanded by a naval officer, Commander Mark S. Laughton. Similar squadrons are located at NAS Pensacola, Randolph AFB and NAS Corpus Christi in Texas, as well as other bases. Since the joint training squadrons have proved successful, plans are under way to provide joint training at the airframe level where it is appropriate. For example, since all the services with fixed-wing aircraft fly variants of the venerable C-130 Hercules, there will soon be a single C-130 pipeline unit for training the air crews.

At the end of the PFT phase of training, cadets find out what "community" they will be headed for at the completion of their training. Though just a fraction the size of the USAF, the air forces of the sea services are even more diverse in their roles and missions. Therefore, following the basic phase of PFT, cadets move onto one of five training pipelines (all of which have intermediate and advanced phases). These include:

• Strike (Tactical Jets)-This course of training provides student trainees for the F-14 Tomcat, F/A-18 Hornet, AV-8B Harrier II, EA-6B Prowler, S-3 Viking, and ES-3 Shadow aircraft. Normally, strike pipeline SNAs train at the same base where they did their PFT work. Along with further classroom work in aerodynamics, engineering, meteorology, communications, and navigation, there is flying. A lot of flying! All told, the intermediate and advanced phases of the strike pipeline PFT provide for around 150 flight hours, covering a great range of required skills and knowledge. These include flight instruction in visual and instrument flying, precision aerobatics, gunnery/weapons delivery, high- and low-altitude flight, air combat maneuvering (ACM), and formation flying. Night flying is also taught, along with flying in a variety of weather conditions, and radar approaches/landings. During this time also comes the dreaded carrier qualification, where the SNA meets up with the deck of an actual aircraft carrier for the first time. To help the students along, extensive use is made of part-task trainers based upon personal computers (PCs), as well as high-end full-motion simulators. However, no amount of simulation and preparation can insure that everyone completes the roughly sixteen-month course.For years, this phase of training had the SNAs flying either the T-2C Buckeye or TA-4J Skyhawk, both classic two-seat training aircraft. But a long-overdue replacement is finally coming into service after a series of problems and delays. Known as the T-45 Goshawk training system, it is based upon a heavily modified British Aerospace Hawk trainer, and is designed to provide a beginning-to-end training for the Strike pipeline. This means that the contractor (Boeing, through the acquisition of McDonnell Douglas) provides everything required-simulators, computer-based-trainers, the T-45 training aircraft, and all the maintenance personnel. In order to make the training system work for PFT students, the sea services only need to provide personnel (instructors and students), a base, and fuel. The newest version, the T-45C, incorporates a fully functional "glass" cockpit, similar to the F/A-18's and that of other modern tactical aircraft that the students will eventually fly.[25] The T-45C can be used for a much more varied curriculum than the two aircraft it replaces; and thanks to a fuel-efficient engine and all the new avionics systems, the T-45 training system will actually not only save money, but also improve the quality and fidelity of the various training curriculums.

• E-2/C2-This training course supplies air crews to fly the E-2C Hawkeye airborne early-warning aircraft and its transport cousin, the C-2 Greyhound, both of which are powered by twin-engine turboprops. Because the airframes that it supplies air crews for are among the most heavily loaded and difficult to fly on and off carriers, the E-2/C-2 pipeline is unique. Thus, for example, the E-2/C-2 pipeline deletes some of the combat/weapons-oriented portions of the Strike PFT course work. Utilizing the T-44A Pegasus (essentially a twin-engine Raytheon/Beech King Air), the intermediate training is carried out by Naval Training Squadron 31 (VT-31), and is run at NAS Corpus Christi, Texas. The advanced phase is handled by VT-4 at NAS Pensacola, Florida, flying T-45's.

• Maritime-Since the sea services fly several types of four-engine turboprop aircraft (the P-3/EP-3 Orion and C-130/KC-130/HC-130 Hercules), a separate pipeline (Maritime) supports these communities. The Maritime syllabus begins with six additional weeks of flying at the primary PFT base. For the remaining twenty weeks of the course (intermediate and advanced), the students fly the T-44A Pegasus with VT-31 at NAS Corpus Christi for an additional eighty-four flight hours of instruction. Since these aircraft never land on carriers, the syllabus concentrates on multi-engine aircraft operating procedures, especially in emergency and all-weather operations.

• E-6-One of the more chilling missions flown by naval aviators (a mission unique to the Navy) involves flying the E-6 Mercury-the TACMO (Take Charge and Move Out) aircraft. TACMO was originally the control function for the Navy's Trident Fleet Ballistic Missile (FBM) submarines, but its mission has grown. Based on a Boeing 707 airframe, the E-6 Mercury is packed with secure communications and battle-management equipment. Along with the gear for the TACMO mission, the E-6 carries a fully equipped battle staff from the U.S. Strategic Command (STRATCOM-BASED at Offut AFB near Omaha, Nebraska). This allows the E-6's to control the launch and weapons release of all U.S. nuclear forces (bombers, land-based missiles, and sub-launched missiles) from a (relatively!) secure airborne command post (this job was previously handled by the USAF fleet of EC-135 Looking Glass aircraft). In the event that a nuclear strike were to destroy the National Command Authorities in Washington, D.C., and other land-based locations, the TACMO aircraft would still be able to order a counterstrike.To support this highly specialized mission, the Navy has a specific pipeline to supply air crews for this single type of airframe. While generally like the Maritime pipeline, the multi-engine-trainer time is carried out on the new T-1A Jayhawk Tanker/Transport Trainer System (TTTS-based on the Raytheon/Beech 400A business jet). Like the T-45 training system, the Jayhawk training curriculum makes extensive use of computerized task trainers and simulators. Overall, the E-6 pipeline emphasizes all-weather flight techniques and cockpit resource management.

• Helicopter-Since about half of sea service aircraft are helicopters, the rotorcraft course of study is second only to the strike pipeline in numbers of aviators trained. The Helicopter intermediate-phase PFT is composed of six additional weeks at the primary training base, with an emphasis on instrument flying. This is followed by the twenty-one-week advanced phase of the Helicopter pipeline, which is composed of 116 hours of flight training in the TH-57B/C Sea Ranger helicopter (the Navy's trainer version of the famous Bell Jet Ranger business/utility helicopter). Along with the flying, the classroom work includes helicopter aerodynamics and engineering, night and cross-country flying, as well as combat search-and-rescue techniques. Finally, the Helicopter pipeline SNAs actually take off and land from the Helicopter Landing Trainer (HLT), a specially configured barge at NAS Pensacola.

The decision about where an individual goes is based on several factors, most importantly where he or she finishes in the first part of their PFT class. Normally, high-scoring students are funneled into the "glamor" Naval aviation assignments, like the fighter/attack communities. Since air wing and carrier skippers have traditionally come from the "fast movers," assignment to one of these communities carries great weight, status, and self-esteem. Still, more than a few young aviators choose other specialties, such as helicopters or support aircraft. Though one reason is that the skills of flying transport and cargo aircraft have greater value in the civilian job market, sometimes trainees just want to fly a particular kind of aircraft, or a specific mission. Whatever community the trainees want, the personnel detailers do their best to match these desires with the needs of the Navy and Marine Corps.

While every SNA undergoes a rigorous training regime, those in the Strike and E-2/C-2 pipelines clearly have the toughest challenge-learning to make arrested landings aboard aircraft carriers. You cannot overemphasize how this one skill, more than any other, sets Naval aviators apart from their land-based counterparts. Landing on a moving ship at sea is insanely difficult, and it must be done with absolute precision every time. In fact, no other phase of SNA training "washes out" so many young fliers. The defining moment for every naval aviator occurs when they come out of the break and line up into the "groove" for their first carrier qualification. Terrifying. Heart-stopping. Insane. That's what they all think when they first look down and out at a carrier and realize they'll have to land on that in just about fifteen seconds!

To survive your first set of carrier qualifications (naval aviators have to requalifiy literally dozens of times in the course of a career), the key is to make "good" landings as early as possible during qualifications. This is because your final score is an average of all your landing attempts. If you start out poorly, then you've dug yourself a hole that is almost impossible to get out of. The Navy likes SNAs who are "comfortable" and "natural" with the carrier landing process (as if this is ever possible!), and pilots who have to "learn" or "force" it are considered potentially dangerous, and not suited for the trade.

NFO Training: The Guys in Back

Pilots and NFOs need each other just to survive. And it's not just part of the job. The men and women who fly for the sea services have a special bond; they look out for each other in the air and on the ground. This comradeship, added to the many other rewarding aspects of Navy flying, helps keep naval aviators coming back to reenlist. Just as with pilots, the path to becoming an NFO begins at NAS Pensacola, with the same six-week API course taken by SNAs. But then the SNFOs are assigned to their own PFT, run by VT-10. Here they spend fourteen weeks learning basic airmanship, including twenty-two hours of flying time in a PFT trainer. Though they spend eight of these in the pilot's seat, they are not allowed to solo. The SNFOs then undergo an extensive PC-based training course in aircraft systems, which includes training on radio and navigation procedures, and classroom work in aerodynamics, emergency procedures, flight rules and regulations, and cockpit resource management. Once the basic PFT course is completed, the SNFOs continue onto their intermediate PFT courses via one of two pipelines: Navigator and Tactical Navigator Intermediate Training:

• Navigator-The Navigator pipeline supplies personnel for the P-3 and EP-3 Orion; C-130, KC-130, and HC-130 Hercules; and E-6 Mercury TACMO communities. Twenty-two weeks long, the Navigator course is run by the Air Force's 562nd FTS at Randolph AFB, Texas. There, SNFOs in the Navigator pipeline complete eighty hours of airborne flight training in the T-43A trainer (a modified Boeing 737), learning the difficult trade of long-range and over-water navigation. These include use of celestial, radio, and satellite navigation equipment, as well as secure voice and data transmission systems.

• Tactical Navigator Intermediate Training-Every SNFO who is not assigned to the Navigator course at Randolph AFB goes into the Tactical Navigator Intermediate Training (TNIT) pipeline. This course is designed to provide NFOs for all the "tactical" (i.e., combat) aircraft communities in the sea services-such as the F-14 Tomcat, the S-3B Viking, the E-2C Hawkeye, and the EA-6B Prowler. The TNIT SNFOs take their training with VT-10 at NAS Pensacola, and the course lasts fourteen weeks. The flight training for TNIT SNFOs primarily provides experience in low-level navigation and air-traffic-control procedures and is currently accomplished in contractor-operated T-39Ns (modified Sabreliner business jets); but this will change shortly, as the services begin transitioning over to jointly operated T-1A Jayhawks. Already, the T-1As are augmenting the T-39Ns for navigational training hops. Upon completion of TNIT, SNFOs are then assigned to one of three advanced training courses:

• Strike SNFO: The Strike SNFO course provides advanced training for NFOs heading into the S-3 Viking, ES-3 Shadow, and EA-6B communities. This course is run by VT-86 at NAS Pensacola. Flying in the T-2C (soon to be replaced by the T-45), T-39N, and T-1A. Strike pipeline SNFOs spend sixty flight hours over eighteen weeks learning over-water and low-level navigational procedures. The key course objective is to build crew coordination skills, so that in the heat of a combat or emergency situation, they will be ready to act to survive and complete their assigned missions. Once they complete the Strike course, the SNFOs destined for the EA-6B and ES-3 communities go to a special electronic warfare course at Corry Station on NAS Pensacola. S-3 SNFOs go straight into the S-3 community once they finish their training.

• Strike/Fighter SNFO: The Strike/Fighter SNFO pipeline provides NFOs for the small community of two-seat strike fighters in service in the Navy (F-14 Tomcats) and Marine Corps (F/A-18D Hornets). While similar to the Strike syllabus, the Strike/Fighter SNFO course is longer (twenty-five weeks) to allow the teaching of airborne intercept and radar skills, air combat maneuvering, and air-to-ground weapons deliveries.

• Aviation Tactical Data System (ATDS) SNFO: The ATDS SNFO course provides airborne controllers for the E-2C Hawkeye community. This pipeline is unique in that it is run by an actual fleet unit, Carrier Airborne Early Warning Squadron 120 (VAW-120) at NAS Norfolk, Virginia. The thirty-two hours of ATDS flight training (spread over twenty-two weeks) take place aboard actual fleet E-2C aircraft (also unique in SNFO training).

Now the new aviators can savor their achievements. They have reached the crowning moment when they are issued their naval aviator number and their "Wings of Gold." Since the earliest days of naval aviation, this small pin has been the symbol that has set them apart from other officers in the sea services. It is now time for them to join the communities and aircraft that will be at the center of their naval careers for the next two decades.

But before they head out to their first fleet assignment, there is one more school for some of the new naval aviators. This is the notorious SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) training course, one of the toughest courses any military officer can take. Though its exact details are classified, I do know that it is designed to take "at risk" pilots who will be entrusted with "special" knowledge or responsibilities, and place them into a "real-world" prisoner-of-war (POW) situation. SERE training faces the student with physical and mental stresses similar to those they might expect to experience if they are captured by one of our more unpleasant enemies (North Korea, Iran, Iraq, etc.). As of 1996, there was a single joint SERE school, located at Fairchild AFB near Spokane, Washington. Normally a student attends prior to arriving at his first squadron assignment.

Into the Fleet

By now, officers intending to fly for the sea services have been in the military for something over two years and are ready to pass the final hurdle before they begin to repay the million-dollar investment the taxpayers have so far put into their careers. This is their final certification in a Fleet Readiness Squadron (FRS), which teaches the specific skills necessary to operate each type of Navy or Marine Corps aircraft. During the FRS rotation the Navy teaches its Naval aviation professionals the skills that will make them dangerous out in fleet units. Under the supervision of the FRS instructor pilots (IPs), the new NAs and NFOs learn the tactically correct methods for employing the weapons, systems, and sensors of their community's aircraft. The IPs themselves, normally very skilled airmen who have completed a tour or two at sea, are the final quality check that determines whether a new aviator is allowed to go out to sea. In general, the FRS is the vessel where a particular community's "tribal knowledge" is kept to be passed along to the nextgeneration of air crews. And at FRSs, many of the new concepts for weapons and systems are born.[26]

For the new NAs or NFOs, the FRS phase of their career can go quickly, or last a while. Exactly how long depends on how fast they learn to operate a fleet aircraft to the exacting standards of the FRS IPs and how soon jobs become available in one of the fleet squadrons. The more difficult aircraft like the F-14 Tomcat or EA-6B Prowler might require a young aviator to be held back so that certain skills can be reinforced; and some are "washed out" of one aircraft type and moved to another that's less demanding.

Second Home-Squadron Life

Once the FRS IPs have concluded that a "nugget" (rookie aviator) is ready, a call goes out to the detailing office to look for a spot in one of the fleet squadrons. Squadrons are the basic fighting unit and building block of CVWs (and of all naval aviation); and for the next ten years or so, squadron life will dominate the new nugget's career. But before we get to that, let's take a quick look at some Navy jargon and designations. Though the Navy is notorious for its clumsy and awkward-sounding acronyms and conjunctive designations, these batches of alphabet soup do actually serve a purpose. Consider the following table:

Naval Squadron Designations

If you understand the squadron designation, and add the squadron's number behind it, you know what kind of unit you are talking about. For example, VF-14 is a fighter squadron, which just happens to fly F-14 Tomcats. They are known as the "Tophatters," and their heritage dates back to the 1920s, when they were originally designated VF-2, flying aboard the old Lexington (CV-2). The system is actually quite logical and simple, if you take the time to understand it.

Other facts about Navy squadrons are not quite so obvious; the number of aircraft and personnel within a particular kind of unit, for example. An F/A-18 Hornet squadron usually deploys with a dozen aircraft, eighteen air crew, and a support/maintenance base of several hundred personnel. Conversely, each EA-6B Prowler squadron has only four airplanes, but more air crew (about two dozen) and maintenance personnel than the Hornet unit. For each Prowler carries four air crew (compared with the F/A-18's single pilot), and the jamming aircraft require much more maintenance than the Hornets. The squadrons themselves are structured pretty much alike. A full commander (O-5) generally commands, with a lieutenant commander as the executive officer. Backing them up are department heads for maintenance, intelligence, training, operations, and even public affairs. Watching over the enlisted troops will be a master chief petty officer, who is the senior enlisted advisor to the commander. Under normal peacetime conditions, the squadron personnel will spend about three to four years in the unit, about enough time for two overseas deployments.

The new nuggets, meanwhile, are getting ready for their first overseas deployment. But before that happens, they are assigned a "call sign" (frequently "hung" on the new aviator during a squadron meeting). Call signs are nicknames used around the squadron to differentiate all the Toms, Dicks, Jacks, and Harrys that clutter up a ready room and make identification over a crowded radio circuit difficult. Most call signs get "hung" on a pilot because of some unique characteristic. Sometimes they are inevitable. Thus, every pilot named Rhodes is going to be named "Dusty," just as any Davidson will be "Harley." Others are more unique. One F-4 RIO (Radar Intercept Officer) who lost several fingers during an ejection over North Vietnam became "Fingers." Another pilot became "Hoser" because of his tendency to rapidly fire 20mm cannon ammunition like water out of a fire hose. Most call signs last for life, and become a part of each naval aviator's personality.

New pilots and NFOs normally arrive in a squadron during the first few months after it comes home from its last deployment. There they will be expected to get up to speed in the squadron's aircraft, weapons, and other systems, as well as in the proper tactics for employing all of these. Thus by the time the squadron deploys, it is hoped the nuggets will be more dangerous to a potential enemy than to themselves or their squadron mates. To help them get started, new aviators are usually teamed with an older and more experienced member of the squadron. For example, in F-14 squadrons you normally see a nugget pilot teamed with a senior (second or third tour) RIO, who is probably a lieutenant commander. If the squadron flies single-seat aircraft like the F/A-18 Hornet, then the nugget pilot will be made the wingman to a more senior section leader. The final six months prior to the nugget's first deployment are spent "working up" with the rest of the squadron, air wing, and carrier as they mold into a working team.

During the cruise, nuggets are expected to fly their share of missions in the flight rotation, stand watches as duty officers, and generally avoid killing themselves or anyone else without permission. If the nugget does these tasks well on his or her first overseas cruise (normally lasting six months), it is likely he or she has a future in the Naval aviation trade. It is further hoped that the rookie will have become proficient in flying all the various missions assigned to the squadron, and qualified to lead flights of the squadron's aircraft. When the squadron returns from the cruise, the nuggets will (hopefully) have enough experience and enthusiasm to do it again the following year.

Most naval aviators have by this time been promoted to lieutenant (O-3), and have been entrusted with minor squadron jobs like public affairs, welfare, or morale duty. It is also the time that the Navy begins to notice those young officers who have promise. One sign you've been noticed is to be sent to school. If you are a good "stick" in an F-14 or F/A-18 squadron, for example, you may get a chance to head west to NAS Fallon near Reno, Nevada, to attend what the service calls the Naval Fighter Weapons School, which you probably know better as Topgun). Topgun is a deadly serious post-graduate-level school designed to create squadron-level experts on tactics and weapons employment. The E-2C community also has its own school co-resident at NAS Fallon, called Topdome, after the large rotating radar domes on their aircraft. Graduates of these schools have an automatic "leg up" on other aviators at their level, and will likely get choice assignments if they continue to shine. More than a few Topgun graduates have gone on to the Navy's Test Pilot School at Patuxtents River, Maryland, or even to fly the Space Shuttle.

All too soon however, the second cruise arrives. Though second-cruise aviators are expected to show some leadership and help the new nugget air crews with their first cruises, most of what they do is fly. They fly a lot! Now is the time when taxpayers begin to get back the million-dollar-plus investments made in these young officers. Most naval aviators find life good at this stage. With a cruise of seniority over the nuggets, and none of the command responsibilities that will burden them later in their career, it is a nice time to be a naval aviation professional.

The Good Years-The Second and Third Tours

The Navy, wisely, is well aware that after two cruises, young naval aviators tend to be burned out and need shore duty to recharge their batteries. During this first shore tour (which lasts about three years), a young man or woman can earn a master's degree (a necessity for higher promotion these days), start a family, and perhaps build a "real" home.

An officer who shows special promise for higher command may also be offered graduate work at one of the service universities (such as the Naval Post-Graduate School, the Naval War College, the National War College at Fort McNair, in Washington, D.C., or the Air University at Maxwell AFB, Alabama). Staff schools like these are designed to teach officers the skills needed for high-level jobs like running a squadron, planning for an air wing or battle group staff, or working for a regional commander in chief. There may also be an opportunity for the young officer to get some time as an IP at one of the FRSs. They might also serve in a staff job for an admiral or other major commander.

By the end of this three-year period, they will probably be ready to go back to a flying unit at sea. Our aviator is by now around thirty years old, with over eight years of service in the Navy, meaning that this flying tour represents a halfway point in his or her flying career. Here they will do some of their most demanding work. The second sea tour (of three to four years) puts the aviator out on a carrier for another two cruises-either as a member of a squadron, or perhaps as an officer on an air wing staff. Whatever the case, the aviator will get another heavy dose of flying, though this time there'll be a great deal more responsibility. For it is during this time that officer enters the Navy equivalent of middle management. Specifically, this means that officers now have to provide more flight and strike leadership on missions, as well as expertise in the various planning cells that support flight operations.

Once this tour is completed, the aviator is almost guaranteed a two-year shore tour as an IP at either a training squadron or a FRS. There will also probably be a significant raise in pay, since promotion to lieutenant commander (O-4) normally occurs during this time. After the IP shore tour comes a department head tour, which is the start of their rise to command.

Command-The Top of the Heap

For naval aviators, the path to combat command starts when they arrive at their squadron for their third flying tour (another three-to-four-year, two-cruise sea tour) and are assigned a major squadron department (maintenance, training, operations, safety, supply, etc.) to run. How well they do here will ultimately determine how far they will go in the Navy. After the department head tour, officers who prove to be "only" average will go back to another shore tour, perhaps on a staff or to a project office at the Naval Air Systems Command, and will probably be allowed to serve their twenty years and retire. But if the Navy feels an officer has command potential, then things begin to happen quickly, starting with a two-year "joint" staff tour, which is designed to "round out" the officer's career and provide the "vision" for working effectively with officers and personnel from other services and countries. Following this, the officer heads back to what will probably be his or her final flying tour, as the executive officer (XO) of a squadron. If the first cruise as XO goes well, the second cruise comes with a bonus-promotion to full commander (O-5) and the job of commanding officer (CO) of a squadron of naval aircraft.

It also is the beginning of the end of the officer's squadron life. In less than eighteen months, our aviator will be handing over command of the unit to his or her XO, and the cycle moves on. From here on, aviators take one of two paths. They can take another staff tour, followed by "fleeting up" to take over their own air wing (with a promotion to captain, O-6). The other option is that they can take the path to command of an aircraft carrier. This includes nuclear power school, an O-6 promotion, and a two-year tour as a carrier XO. Following this comes a command tour of a "deep draft" ship (like a tanker, amphibious or logistics ship), and eventually command of their own carrier. Beyond that comes possible promotion to rear admiral and higher command. However, it is the "flying" years that make a naval aviator's career worth the effort. Years later when they have retired or moved on to other pursuits, the aviators will likely look back and think about the "good years," when they were young and free to burn holes in the sky, before heading back to the "boat."