On 18 August 1950 I was transferred to VC-12, but took a 30-day delay in reporting. We boarded an R4D MATS plane in Port Lyautey and flew directly to Lagens in the Azores, thence to Westover AFB in Massachusettes where we went through a Customs inspection. My wife's stepfather met us at the terminal and drove us back to Newport. My mother-in-law was delighted to see us, especially her three grandchildren.

On 19 September 1950 I reported in at the OOD's office on the second deck of a hangar near the breakwater at NAS Quonset Point, Rhode Island. My new Executive Officer turned out to be former Ensign Nils Larson whom I knew in Utility Squadron One. He was now a full Commander. I was also surprised to learn that one of the former Chiefs from VJ-2, our sister squadron at Ford Island, was to be my division officer. Benny Traeger, and he was now a full lieutenant.

I heard of a house for rent in a subdivision in East Greenwich, Rhode Island from one of the Chiefs in the electronics maintenance shop by the name of Frank Grogan. It was directly across the street from where he lived and I was lucky enough to be able to rent it and move the family into it. I later ran into him after we both had retired. He also had settled in Orlando, Florida. I was somewhat saddened to read the obituary page one day, about a year ago, and learn that he had passed away.

My duties in VC-12 involved learning to become an airborne air controller. The planes we were flying in were converted Douglas AD-4 dive bombers designated AD4W. The major difference was the big radome on the bottom of the fuselage between the landing gear. The power supply and modulator were directly behind the pilot's cockpit for forced air cooling.

The first six to eight weeks I was in ground school with other trainees. We were learning how to vector aircraft and where to locate them on the radar screen as they tracked out of the sea return. We did not have the luxury of magnetic north-stabilized radar in those days. Also we learned the intricacies of operating a 1.5 megawatt radar set and the "bellhop" transmitter that relayed images to a ground station or to Combat Information Center in a carrier. We carried two VHF transceivers so that we could act as an automatic relay station for planes too far away to communicate with their home base. Another part of our curriculum was learning dead-reckoning navigation using a standard plotting board. Occasionally, during ground school, we flew barrier patrols with an instructor who checked our progress and recorded it on a large training syllabus board in the division office. Once all the squares opposite one's name were filled with map tacks, you could be sure you were going to be onthe next detachment that was deployed to a carrier.

I really enjoyed this new type of duty except during cold weather. I disliked the cold weather operations because it meant that we had to wear "poopy suits." This is a watertight suit of rubberized fabric that covers the entire body over the flight suit. It has a drawstring neck piece that is pulled snug around the neck. The excess cord is then tucked into a pocket-like flap that is zipped up diagonally from the left waistline to the right shoulder. This suit will sustain a person in frigid water for about 20 minutes, long enough to get your life raft inflated and crawl into it. The big problem was that if you were bothered with flatulence during a flight, you were in for some very foul odors when removing the suit; hence the name. Also, with no ventilation, one's body had a tendency to perspire profusely.

Flying as an airborne aircontroller placed a lot of responsibility on one's shoulders. Especially when you had a chase plane flying on your wing that you vectored out to make an intercept of another plane or a submarine periscope. A lot of our training took place in Long Island sound. We flew a barrier patrol between the mouth of the Connecticut river and Montauk Pt. Another plane from our squadron would play the part of a bogey and try to penetrate our barrier without being intercepted. It was exciting work and a lot of fun, but it also meant that sometime in the future I would have to go aboard an aircraft carrier with a detachment from our squadron. I was not looking forward to that in the least. My children were getting to the age where they needed a father around; especially the boys who were 7 and 6 and only ten and a half months apart in age. (Hence my nickname "Speedy" from my VP-26 days.)

My training was progressing rapidly and apparently to everyone's satisfaction. I had completed just about all of the training syllabus requirements and was not surprised when I was told I was scheduled to go out with the next three-plane detachment aboard USS WRIGHT (CVA-49) for a three-months NATO cruise commencing on 10 January 1951. If memory serves me correctly, WRIGHT came into Narragansett Bay and tied up at the Naval Air Station. The planes were loaded aboard by crane and personnel went aboard, with their gear, via the gangway. The first day out was spent in checking the aircraft and the radar equipment for proper operation. Checking the radar on the flight deck or hangar deck required that an absorption screen be placed in front of the radar. The screen was in three sections that were hinged so that it covered the front of the radome and out to 45 degrees on either side. This radar was so powerful that it could set afire oily rags in the vicinity and even cause an orange crate to burst into flame.

It was my job as the leading air controller aircrewman to schedule the other air controllers for flights. As was customªary, I always put myself down for the first day flight and thefirst night flight. WRIGHT was a small carrier having been built on a cruiser hull. She had nine arresting cables and three barrier cables. The barrier cables were 3/4-inch steel cables strung between hydraulically operated pylons on either side of the deck edge. The cables were at propeller hub level when the pylons were in the upright position.

My first day flight was a routine flight more for pilot familiarization than anything else. We were launched by catapult which taught me a valuable lesson. I was strapped into my seat with shoulder harness secured. When the plane was launched, a pencil I had tucked in beside a piece of equipment came flying directly at my face point first. I dodged it and made a mental note never to have any loose gear around during a cat shot in the future. Unfortunately, the cat shot messed up the radar equipment so we sat up there boring holes in the sky until recovery time. After this incident we were always permitted a free deck launch; usually the first plane in the air.

The first night flight was rather interesting in a macabre sort of way. We took off just after dusk and set up a barrier patrol 40 miles ahead of the taskforce and 20 miles either side of the taskforce heading. When it came time for the recovery, the pilot asked if I was strapped in as he started his standard approach to starboard of the carrier's island superstructure. He made the standard rate turn heading into the down wind leg then commenced his approach to line up with the flight deck. All of a sudden he poured the coal to the engine and began a rapid ascent.

I keyed the microphone button and queried, "What's the matter? Did you get a waveoff from the LSO?"

"No," he replied. "That was not the carrier. It was one of the cruisers in the taskforce." He had been attracted to the cruiser by some blue lights he saw. Blue lights normally outline the flight deck of a carrier.

He finally located the carrier and we came aboard in fine shape. It has been said by some noted aviators that carrier landings are nothing more than controlled crashes and it takes a helluva good pilot to land on one. I totally agree. I remember one incident upon returning to land aboard WRIGHT. The man who was manning the number one barrier was a little slow letting it down. We came aboard and caught the last arresting wire and the plane's prop caught the number one barrier cable cutting it in half. One piece of the cable got wrapped around the propeller and began slapping against the fuselage with every revolution before the engine could be shut down. I didn't know when that damn thing was going to come through the fuselage and take my head off. Luckily, aside from a few minor dents in the fuselage, no serious damage occurred. However, the plane was "downed" for an engine change which took a couple of days.

On another occasion, we had been launched in the late afternoon.I had been vectoring a pilot flying an F4U as combat air patrol (CAP) to make intercepts on another plane acting as the bogey. When it came time to recover, the bogey was brought aboard first, then us, and finally the CAP plane. It was just about dusk and as I alit from my plane, I looked back to see if another plane was in the slot. The CAP plane's starboard running light suddenly became obscured by the island superstructure. At that moment I knew the CAP plane was going to hit the superstructure and jumped into the starboard catwalk next the flight deck. Sure enough, he caught a wire, but was to far to starboard. The plane's starboard wing hit the superstructure. That, coupled with the planes's tailhook breaking off, caused the CAP plane to spin around and wind up with its nose and propeller resting on the flight deck and the tail up under the air boss's glass enclosed gallery. The pilot must have been totally disenchanted with his landing. He was beating the side of the cockpit with his fist as I walked by on my way to the readyroom.

One of the more interesting liberty ports on this cruise was Naples, Italy. I joined a tour group that included a visit to a cameo factory followed by a guided tour of the Pompeii ruins. The Romans must have been a fornicating bunch of people in the old days. The streets of Pompeii, at various intersections had a man's sex organ etched into the stone to point the way to the nearest whorehouse. We were given a tour of one of these buildings and I was amazed at the graphic depictions of various sex acts that were painted on the walls. More amazing was the fact that they were the original paintings and had survived the cataclysmic eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D.

As a matter of interest, most of us carried cameras on liberty and busied ourselves with taking pictures of the unusual sights so unlike our existence back home. At every port there was a concessionaire who came aboard WRIGHT and picked up the film for development. At the next liberty port, regardless where, he was back aboard with the developed film and blackandwhite prints. I don't think they did a very good job of washing the hypo off them though; my prints have turned brown with age.

On 19 March 1951 we departed our last liberty port, Golfe Juan, France and headed for NAS Quonset Point, Rhode Island.

The remainder of the year was spent in continued training and honing our skills as airborne aircontrollers. By this time I had achieved instructor status and made quite a few check flights of the newer students. It was on one of these flights that the pilot received a message from our base radio station to return to base that my youngest son was missing. As soon as we landed I got out of my flight suit and stowed the gear in my locker and got into my car and drove home.

During my absence, the wife of one of the squadron Chiefs paid a visit to my wife. She had a daughter about the same age as myyoungest son who was then about four or five years of age. It seems that the two got to playing in the back yard and wandered away from the house, down a steep hill, through a swampy area to another section of the housing development. When the two mothers went to look for them all they found was a burst balloon sticking to a tree branch in the swamp. Naturally they feared the worst had happened and called the local fire department to search the swamp for the children. As luck would have it, a lady saw the two kids wandering around in her section of the development and asked them where they were from. My son pointed in the general direction of our house and she finally deposited both the kids at our front door and rang the doorbell. When I arrived home in an emergency state not knowing what had taken place, I found the two mothers in the living room; one on the sofa and the other in an easy chair. Both were holding their children in their arms and all four were crying. Tears of joy I assume. I learned later that my wife had turned our son over her knee and gave him a few whacks on the fanny before the tender scene occurred.

On the 25th of October 1951 I was again part of a three-plane detachment that was scheduled to go aboard USS LEYTE for a six-month cruise in the Med. We were airlifted to NOB Norfolk with all of our gear and the planes were recovered after we left port. We no sooner hit the Med (25 days from our day of departure) than I received a set of orders to report to NTC, San Diego, California and the Recruit Procurement School. This was a rarity because of my rating and the fact that I was a qualified airborne aircontroller. It was very rare that electronics personnel were ever assigned recruiting duty. I guess my war record must have had some influence in my being selected. Also, during a previous visit to the Bureau of Naval Personnel, in Washington, I met and talked personally to the lady who "ran" the recruiting service. She was a civilian employee of the Navy Department and I'm sure was responsible for my new assignment. On 19 November 1951 I arrived at my new assignment in student status.