I was a skinny 18 year-old with pimples fresh from the womb of suburban
California when I went aboard the Yorktown in the summer of 1962. I had never
done a lick of work in my young life other than mow the lawn for my father from
time to time, and that was under protest. During the next two years I learned to
work, but it was a trial for all concerned. My most vivid image is that of
uncounted superiors shaking their heads, throwing up their arms, and walking
away.
I was in GA Division (aviation
ordinance),
and I remember an AO2 by the name of
Bridges once shaking his head and saying, “Poor Petty, he can’t even paint a
bulkhead without screwing it up.”
Then there was Chief Wilson, always unflappable, always even tempered. He would
just sit there and chew on his pipe, trying to look deep inside of me to see
what it was that made me such a failure as an airman. I think he found me more
of a challenge than all the battles of WWII he fought in.
Burrows, the division’s senior petty officer would start off a sentence, “Petty....,”
then shake his head and walk off, never knowing quite what to say to me.
Somehow, both the Navy and I survived my two years aboard the Yorktown. I’m
sure that if the Yorktown had sunk while I was aboard it would have been my
fault. I am now fifty-five years old and still don’t know how to paint a
bulkhead without screwing it up. I am a writer, and believe it or not the book I
am working on now is about the Navy. I hope I don’t screw it up.
Bruce Petty
brucempetty@yahoo.com
Mr. Petty is now a published author, having written Saipan
: Oral Histories of the Pacific War, available on
Amazon.com: Saipan: Oral Histories of the Pacific War 9/2001
http://www.amazon.com
The Day a Yorktown Third Class Petty Officer chewed out
a
Lt (jg) with the Captain's concurrence
I first met the "Lady" in mid 56 at Alameda NAS. I stayed aboard
until I left her in Kyoto in Nov.58 as an RD2 to hitch a ride home. Seeing her
change from a CVA to CVS and move home port from Alameda to Long Beach by way of
Bremerton. In 1955 most of my boot camp platoon were drafted.
On
one of my many trips to Hawaii I was attending to the radar antenna atop the
mast (one of my favorite places to hide) when an announcement to 'stand
clear while radiating radars" rang out, (it seemed the OD wanted to
impress some visitors with a sweep of the Island)
My safety man on the O10 level was unable to get anyone's attention so I
threw a 
wrench
to startle the Marine at the Gang. While he ran to the Bridge I slid down the
ladder and proceeded to the Bridge to "discuss" this with the
OD.
My CO later told me it wasn't nice for a RD3 (Petty Officer Third Class) to chew out a LT jg but he understood and it was dropped there.
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