[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

I wrote this while in the Persian Gulf, where my ship spent three months doing donuts. This was my second trip to the Gulf and, as I wrote below, I had gotten used to the routine. Hours of boredom punctuated by seconds of sheer terror. Fortunately, the closest I came to combat was watching as our deployed SEAL team safely detonated a wayward Iraqi mine.

I still remember pointing the ship’s “Big Eyes” binoculars towards a passing Iranian ferry, fascinated by wonder evident on the faces of the passengers. They looked like everyday people, and I wondered why our two countries couldn’t just get along.

At the time I really was hitting my stride with the Navy. I think it’s because I was finally getting a chance to lead. Those lessons are still paying off today.

Sunday, Nov. 10, 1991 [age:22]
63 DAYS TO GO!!

Grandma –
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[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

You can tell how dated this letter is because I say the Arabic countries are actually glad we were there! I’ve also stayed at plenty of hotels for more than $180 a night, though for the small salary I was making as an enlisted sailor that was indeed steep.

It turned out that I didn’t leave the Navy at our port stop in Hawaii but rode the ship back to San Diego before flying home. I was ready to leave California and experience actual seasons again, though California eventually did find its way into my heart.

Friday, 22 Sep 91 [age:22]

Dear Grandma –
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It was on this day twenty years ago that I moved to North Carolina for good. I’d lived here before, of course, starting in 1983 when I spent three years in Charlotte. In between 1986 and 1992, I moved to Great Falls, VA, joined the Navy, and traveled the world.

August 2, 1992 was when I came to Raleigh to attend N.C. State. I first lived on Clanton Avenue, then the Raleigh Apartments on Peace Street, then Thea Lane, before moving to the other side of Lake Johnson at the Lake Johnson Apartments on Trillium Circle. Then I got married, moved to Garner for 5 years, had a kid, moved back to Raleigh at Hobhouse Circle, had another kid, then moved to East Raleigh on Tonsler Drive. Whew!

It’s been a wonderful first 20 years. I look forward to seeing what the next 20 years will bring!

[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

This was written at the start of my last deployment. It turns out I never made it anywhere near Egypt nor the Red Sea. Word on the street was that my second skipper didn’t have the friends in high places that my politically-connected first skipper did, leading to the choice ports being given to other ships.

In this letter I finally sound comfortable with the Navy. I had finally figured out how the system worked and could have probably made great strides at this point in a Navy career had I chosen that path.

During this cruise I was spending my off-time taking college courses. While I really got into it and did well, my success there didn’t translate to success at N.C. State. My classmates were much more attractive at State, I have to say.

I do still sail, of course, whenever I can. Though I sail on a lake now, I’ll never forget the feeling of freedom and adventure I get from being on the water.

August 4, 1991 4 AM HDT, 10 AM EDT [age:22]

Dear Grandma,
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[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

This letter was written while my ship was in the midst of a three-month overhaul in San Diego’s NASSCO shipyards. My Desert Storm experience consists largely of me watching it on TV and supplementing that knowledge with the secret knowledge shared on the intelligence wires. I did return to the Gulf to serve in the combat zone but only after hostilities had largely ceased.

During this time my uncle Jimmy passed away suddenly from a heart attack. Many more heart attacks would come to afflict the Turner clan (though I intend to take good care of my ticker – and have so far).

C.J. was my parents’ Golden Retriever, still a puppy at the time of this writing.

My dad did end up visiting that March. We spent a few days and nights sightseeing around my ship and around San Diego. It was a weekend spent with my dad that I will never forget.

21 January 1991 (my 22nd Bday!!) [age:22, duh]

Dear Grandma,

Sorry it’s been sooo long since I’ve written – I’m just taking the bandages off my writing hand, so to speak. As you know there has been a whole lot going on since you last heard from me.
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[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

This is an interesting letter in many regards. It shows my growing appreciation for world affairs.

It was interesting back then to read the intelligence reports that were coming in as India and Pakistan nearly went to war. At one point there was talk about being diverted to Mumbai for a week or two to help calm the situation down. Things calmed down before we could get there, however.

I cringed at reading the Bhopal reference. At the time, though, I was angry at both for nearly blowing themselves (and possibly other countries) up.

I also was quite prescient on Iraq, noting its aggressiveness three months before the Iraqi army invaded Kuwait.

As for returning with a “war hero” look, fuggedaboutit! Out of all the medals and ribbons I mentioned we wound up earning only the Sea Service ribbon. While we didn’t earn a Navy Expeditionary Medal, we did earn an Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal (which, as you’ll note from its Wikipedia page, prevented us from earning the Humanitarian Service Award).

My ship never did earn the coveted “Battle E,” even with a skipper who went on to become a vice admiral.
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[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

A few months before this letter was sent, Rudy, the family Dachshund of 13 years, died while I was visiting on holiday leave (a post for another day). My parents soon got a Golden Retriever puppy from my aunt. Named C.J. (for “Colonel, Jr.”) he would be a faithful dog for a a half-dozen years or so before succumbing to cancer. My parents never got another pet.

I did get time pierside at San Diego but not the 18 months that I speculated about in this letter. Out of the three years I spent on the USS Elliot, over 18 months were spent on deployments and several weeks were spent doing donuts off the coast, leaving less than 18 months to be moored at San Diego Naval Station (or in the NASSCO shipyard next door).

Korea remains one of the coldest damn places I’ve ever been.
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[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

This letter to Grandma was sent at the start of my first deployment. By “rocky start” I believe this refers to the loss of most of the ship’s freshwater making capability, leaving the crew showerless and shaveless for two weeks. I was dreading six months of those shenanigans but we got things patched up during our visit to Pearl Harbor.

What strikes me about this short letter is the enthusiasm it contains for what I’m doing. I believe I was sincere with my “getting paid to do this” remark. In spite of this, though, it’s clear I’m still looking forward to attending college, though returning after college as a junior officer was still something I was considering.

Saturday, 3 February 1990 [age:21]

Dear Grandma,

Thank you so much for your card for my birthday, and for Charlie’s letter in it. His handwriting is so much better than mine. I bet he’s really grown. I remember seeing the tape Dad took when the family was at your house last summer – but it really has been a while since he’s seen me.
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[Note: Read this post first for an introduction.]

This letter to Grandma came near the tail end of my 3 month deployment for PACEX 89. That was the first of my three deployments and included Japan as the sole port visit. Long after that deployment I marveled at how my ship seemed to leave a series of major earthquakes in its wake as it sailed counter-clockwise around the Northern Pacific.

The visit to Nagasaki, where the world’s second atomic bomb was used in anger, was heartbreaking. More recently I’ve come to understand just how fanatical many Japanese were during the war and that the invasion of the Japanese mainland surely would’ve resulted in a million or more deaths. There is no doubt in my mind about the insanity of nuclear war, but I don’t know if I were President Truman that I would not have made the same choice.

This deployment gave me a really good taste of sea life and I think I took to it. I would have two, six-month WestPac deployments ahead of me before I left the Navy.

Oh, and fortunately my shipmates were wrong about me being UNC or Duke material!
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