This is our sixth time on the Essex during the current MEU cycle. By the fourth time, we'd worked all the kinks out of embarkation, rolling on smooth as silk. I think we got overconfident, because this time it was a disaster from start to finish.

The first problem was that we were boarding over three days, at the same time we were doing the MEU Certification Exercise, a VBSS- that's Vertical Boarding Search and Seizure. So we, the aviation element, were very heavily tasked with dropping a large group of Recon Marines onto a "potentially hostile" merchant vessel. So instead of being dedicated to getting us onboard and settled in, we were flying dozens of hours each day.

With the limited flights available for embark, most of our shop was stuck riding a Landing Craft, Utility aboard. Only Cpl P and myself got to fly on, and I barely made it. I was at the hanger with all my gear at dawn, only to get bumped from flight after flight, not launching until after 1900 on an overloaded helo. We managed to get to the boat, and then P and I had to drag all our classified and controlled gear into the shop with just the two of us. Normally we have six people do it in about an hour. With just two of us, getting increasinly exhausted, we weren't done until midnight. The next day we started butting heads with the Harrier guys we share the shop with.
Because of our extension, we're the only unit on the MEU that didn't switch over the new year. It's new infantry, new jets, new supply, new command element, and same old helicopters. So there's been friction. Especially in the shop.

Our shop is a room shared with the Harrier Flight E and Seat Shop. For Harriers and F-18s, the job my shop does is split between two different shops (FE and SS). So, they figured that there were three shops in the room, so each should get a third of the space.

Now, the way we see it, most space in the room is taken up with the aircrew's gear inside lockers. The harriers have twelve aviators onboard. We helo guys have almost a hundred and thirty flyers. So, if they get more than 10% of the space, it's due to the kindness of our hearts.

Anyway, the Harriers loaded on a few days before us, so they claimed all the lockers near the door, which normally go to the senior officers (from both units). They refused to budge. Diplomacy with the Harrier enlisted broke down. With so many people still waiting on the LCU, I was the senior Flight E guy we had. As I prepared to move their gear like it or not, the harrier F/E people got one of their captains to come by and talk to me. All our officers were out flying, you know, doing their jobs, but the harrier guys always have plenty of time to hang out. That fine figure of Marine leadership gave me a direct order not to move any of their stuff. I was a bit hot under the collar by then, so I said "Sir, my colonel should be back in about two hours. When he gets here, I'm going to request permission to throw your shit into the ocean so the colonel can put his gear where he has been putting it for the last five floats, while you guys were snapping towels at each other in Yuma." He turned a little purple and said "Yeah? Well, I'll bet my colonel will have something to say about that!", and I said "Yeah, like 'How come a captain managed to get his gear thrown in the ocean?'" and he reminded me of his order and stomped off, undoubtdly hearing the other helo enlisted snickering at him. Which made me feel good but didn't really help the situation.

But I had a order and I was waiting for someone senior to countermand it, when a harrier major came in and he and I talked it out. We moved their captains gear, took about 60% of the shop's floorspace, and I let them put their captains where we normally keep night vision gear. Which will be more inconvenient for all concerned, but one does have to compromise occasionally.

After our pilots returned from their mission, they naturally heard about the drama, and the Maintenance Chief (a Master Gunnery Sergeant, the seniormost enlisted rank) came to see me. He just walked in, shook my hand, said "Good job with the diplomacy!" and walked out. I like that guy. Soon afterwards came our Maintenance Officer, who said "Well, I was hoping you could work it out among equals, but I heard you had to get into it with a captain to get things worked out." "Well, sir," I replied, "the captain and I didn't see eye-to-eye. I actually had to work it out with a major." The MO kind of sighed and said "Well, whatever level of 'equality' works, I guess," and left. I like the MO, but he makes me nervous. He's a big upper midwestern Swede with a sense of humor so dry it can be hard to tell whether he's amused or angry and hiding it.

That night the rest of the shop arrived at about midnight, and we started to get things together. Now we had a Gunny for some firepower, although unfortunatly our Gunny is a terrifically friendly guy that has trouble with confrontations. The next day some harrier warrent officer came to complain about our hanging our garmet bags in the shop. We asked him what the problem was, and he claimed that they were a fire hazard. After he said that silence fell for a good ten seconds, as we all stared at him like he was an idiot. The shop has about seventy pounds of miscellaneous explosive and pyrotechnic devices in here. The additional hazard that our uniforms provide is so trivial as to be laughable. Our garmet bags are still here.

It's been a few days now, and the drama is wearing down a little, as we try to be polite to each other and do trivial favors for each other. We've got to be in this small space for a month together, so we need to ratchet down the tension.

I think that there are two sources for the tension: experience and culture clash. Experience is, well, we've been doing this for almost two years now, and we've got it all worked out. But the harrier guys have no interest in listening to us about how things work. That's because of culture clash- harriers and ground attack aircraft that used to be fighters, and they are keenly aware of their bad reputation in the Marine Corps. Harrier pilots mostly really wanted to be F-18 Hornet pilots but couldn't hack it. Harriers are known as "The Lawn Darts of the Corps" throughout the air wing. But they can look down at us poor helo guys- our pilots don't even need oxygen masks! We fly low and slow, and we work for a living, instead of cruising at altitude and pretending we have a chance in an air-to-air duel against a modern fighter. And MEUs are all about landing troops on unfriendly shores, so they get annoyed when the MEU command prioritizes troop-carrying helos above under-armed ground attack planes.

Posted by: Boviate at 02:48 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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