Phrog on Fire: A SEAL's Tale

The helicopter featured in my debut novel, HOVER, is the H-46 Sea Knight, known colloquially as the "Phrog." It was my primary aircraft during my time in the navy and a real treat to fly. John Czajkowski, my Naval Academy classmate and former Navy SEAL, writes this guest post about one of his more memorable flights in the H-46. Thank you, John!

I have a funny story about helo pilots for you starring Denise Shorey [our Naval Academy classmate] and yours truly. She and a senior female pilot were to fly my squad out about 20 NM past Point Loma and drop us and a CRRC [Combat Rubber Raiding Craft] boat out using the "limp duck" drop just after sunset on a beautiful, clear fall evening in the early 90s. Well, this was the first time we had ever flown with female pilots, so some of the guys were a little anxious about it.

So, as luck would have it, as we got about half of the way to the DZ [Drop Zone], sparks and smoke started billowing out of the APU [Auxiliary Power Unit] area. As the bird did a very hard 180 back to NAS [Naval Air Station], I said to Denise over the net that it did appear they would not be dropping us off, and she replied that we might be very useful. She wasn't kidding as the thing was totally on fire now. They dropped down to a very low altitude in case we had to ditch.

I had been in one autorotation/crash with army MH-60s a year prior and would also survive a midair rotor hit while flying with TF160 several years later. Helos . . .WTF is up with them?

Anyway, my squad and I were pleased to look into the cockpit and see the girls flipping a hundred switches/minute and scrambling to try to keep us aloft. Suffice to say, it was exciting to watch the crash trucks following us as we came screaming over NAS NI [Naval Air Station North Island - San Diego] runway. So, there was a box of good tequila delivered to the squadron the next morning.

A Deployment for Two

Sweet homecoming

I had written three novels of epic fantasy and one medical thriller when I made the decision—finally—to try to get published. For my fifth novel, I knew I wanted to write a love story with a strong female protagonist, but when I began my research into agents and editors, they all called for the same thing—something unique!

At the time, using the Navy as a setting wasn’t an option, a thought, or even a microscopic notion. I had simply never considered it.

I was at such a loss for an idea, I began writing my fourth novel of epic fantasy to fill the time. About six chapters into this new manuscript, now July 2011, the Navy announced it would begin assigning women to submarines. I’ll never forget when my husband looked at me and said, “A woman in the Navy. That’s your story.”

Common advice given to authors is to write what you know. The Navy? I knew this. A love story set in a battle group, particularly with a woman as the main protagonist? Unique. And as a bonus, I knew what it would be like for my protagonist to deploy with someone she loved.

My husband and I met at the Naval Academy and had been married for four years when we deployed together with the USS Nimitz battle group—he on the USS Lake Champlain, a guided missile cruiser, and me on the USS Kansas City, a replenishment oiler. Our first Western Pacific deployment was short by today’s standards, just six months. At that time, in 1993, women were still prohibited from serving on combatant ships, however, a growing number of auxiliary ships were opening their decks to women, including the Kansas City.

My roommate and I were the first women to deploy aboard the Kansas City, members of the air detachment, flying the H-46 helicopter. It was just the two of us, serving with a crew of about 500. Our battle group, now called a carrier strike group, counted four women total—two of our squadron mates were deployed aboard the ammunition ship, USS Shasta—in a task force numbering about 7,000.

Of those 7,000, one was my husband, Bill, who flew the H-60 helicopter. That we were assigned to the same battle group was pure happenstance, a matter of timing more than anything. Because we entered flight school at the same time and eventually received our wings on the same day, the timing of our arrival to our fleet squadrons matched, and our deployment schedules somehow aligned from there—for the first long deployment, anyway.

Bill on the flight deck of the Lake Champlain

Because HOVER takes place in present day, the main characters, Sara and Eric, are able to use email and cell phones to communicate. However, when Bill and I deployed, there was no such thing, not onboard ships, anyway. So we found other ways to communicate. Fortunately for us, the other ships in the battle group relied on the Kansas City for their food, fuel, supply parts and ammunition. We conducted something called CONREP, or connected replenishment, where ships would come alongside ours, lines would be cast between the two to connect them, and hoses run across those lines so we could deliver fuel. During these evolutions, if we weren’t flying, we could wave to each other, while standing on our respective flight decks.

When appropriate, we also talked to each other via the hand-held radios we carried with us for flying, the PRC-90. And when I landed on the Lake Champlain, as we did on daily logistics flights, we took advantage of our in-house “mail delivery system,” otherwise known as passing notes.

Sara and Eric’s story is not the tale of Anne and Bill. Our love story was quite different and maybe there’s another blog article in that. But I drew from our joint experiences in the fabrication of Sara and Eric’s journey, and I’ll briefly touch on one of those angles here—a couple serving in a risky work environment, both in harm’s way. A modern issue, to be sure, now that so many married couples and partners deploy together. 

For example, during work-ups for our deployment, one of our H-46 aircraft had to ditch in the Pacific. Bill was in the cockpit of his H-60, turning on the deck of the Lake Champlain, when the call came that a Sideflare—the call sign for our H-46 helicopter—had gone in the water. Only two Sideflare helicopters were flying that day, so there was a fifty percent chance it was my aircraft. He was about to lift from the deck to provide search and rescue support, when his officer in charge pulled him from the cockpit and replaced him with another pilot. 

Bill remembers that perhaps he may have had a few choice words for his boss for pulling him from a mission. His officer in charge explained that no one knew yet if I was in the helicopter that had gone down. But in Bill’s mind, whether I had been in the bird or not, he felt he should have been able to fly. He clearly remembers the rush of adrenaline and thinking, “A helicopter’s in the water! Let’s go!”

He learned later that I was flying in the second helicopter when the first ditched. In fact, we performed the rescue for the pilot, while the ship sent a small boat to retrieve the remainder of the crew.

The tables were turned during a transit through the Strait of Hormuz, when another helicopter went down, this time at night. Initial reports indicated it was an H-60. As I learned later, Bill did the search for that aircraft, an H-2, which in this case, ended tragically with the deaths of all four crew members.

Comparing notes after each incident, we both admitted reacting in a detached way to those initial reports of helicopters in the water, compartmentalizing and responding to the task at hand of searching for a downed aircraft. The emotional side—What if he/she is in the aircraft?—never kicked in for us.

I want to point out that Sara and Eric react and respond differently than Bill and I would have in several scenes in HOVER, due to the requirements of the story, its arc and plot. But like I said earlier, Sara and Eric are fictional characters in a fictional setting doing things that will hopefully keep the reader turning the pages.

But back to reality, I’ve heard it many times in discussions about integrating women into combat units that men might act differently with women present and vice versa. But what I personally experienced and what we witnessed time and again was consummate professionalism, men and women doing their jobs side by side, just as they were trained. 

Granted, the emotional stakes were higher since we were married. But Bill says that if he ever found himself worrying about me, he would tell himself, “Anne knows what she’s doing. You just need to make sure you know what you’re doing.” I felt the same way, channeling my focus into doing my job well, knowing Bill was doing his, and understanding that worrying wouldn't accomplish much of anything. 

Yes, it was a unique shared experience for a married couple, but the Navy trained us well, and I think we handled it like any professional military service member would, just as our soldiers, sailors and airmen do today.

Women Who Inspire: Interview with Catherine (McCann) Gillies

This is the second in a series of interviews of women who inspire the strong female protagonists I favor when writing my novels.

Cathy was notably the first female pilot to fly in any Marine Corps aviation squadron.

Catherine (McCann) Gillies graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics from the US Naval Academy and reported to flight school in Pensacola, FL. During her 20-year active duty career, she flew the H-3 and H-1 helicopters and was notably the first female pilot to fly in any Marine Corps aviation squadron. She holds two masters degrees and earned a Doctorate in Industrial and Organizational Psychology. She completed her career serving as the Executive Officer of Navy Operational Support Center (NOSC) Baltimore. Catherine retired with the rank of Lieutenant Commander (O-4) and is currently teaching in the Masters of Industrial/Organizational Psychology program for Argosy University Online. Catherine lives with her two daughters and one son in Annapolis, MD.

AW: You flew the H-3 helicopter off of five different aircraft carriers during your time at HC-16. How long were you aboard the carriers typically and what was your primary mission?

CG: We stayed aboard anywhere from a couple of weeks to a couple of months and provided SAR (Search and Rescue) support for jet pilots earning their carrier landing quals. We also helped with hurricane evacuations among other things.

AW: You and your roommate, a USNA ’88 grad, were the first two female pilots stationed aboard the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk. Any sea stories you’d like to relate from that time?

CG: Well, they used to post Marine Corps guards outside our stateroom doors. This was the case on several of the aircraft carriers in the early days. It made my roommate and me uncomfortable because they could hear us moving around the room and talking, so we would order them to leave. Usually, their superiors would send them back, but after several days of back and forth and me reminding them that I outranked their boss, they would finally relent and leave us alone.

AW: You are featured in Linda Maloney’s book, Military Fly Moms. In it, you relate a story that happened on a different aircraft carrier when you called the ship’s weather forecasters for a weather briefing for your flight.

CG: (Laughs). Yeah, I called for a weather briefing, the sailor on the other end of the line laughed, asked me

how I had gotten his number and who had put me up to this. He then stated there were no women aboard the ship before hanging up on me! This was long before the days of cell phones, so I had to be on the ship to call him in his office!

AW: Any other funny carrier moments?

CG: I guess this wasn’t exactly funny for him, but a junior petty officer rounded a corner in the passageway near my stateroom on the Kitty Hawk and obviously wasn’t expecting to see a woman standing there. He just stared—gawking—and while his head was turned, ran straight into the bulkhead.

AW: I guess you were definitely a novelty! Which leads me to your time with HMT-303. You were the first female pilot to be stationed with a Marine Corps squadron, flying Hueys out of Camp Pendleton. I was lucky to have you as an instructor when I transitioned to H-1’s, but how were you received there?

CG: You know, I think you were the only other female I saw come through HMT-303 while I was there. But I would say it was more awkward than my time in Navy squadrons. I was just trying to fit in, but it seemed I was always getting a lot of attention with the base newspaper or the base TV station. It made me stand out when I just wanted to be one of the guys.

AW: Speaking of Marine Corps aviation, can you relate the story about chopping through the halls as a plebe and what you were not allowed to say? [As a plebe, or freshman, at the Naval Academy, you are not allowed to walk in the dormitory hallways—you have to jog, eyes straight ahead. It’s called chopping. And whenever you turn a corner, like to turn down a hallway from the main corridor, you must yell something motivational like “Go Navy!” or “Beat Army!”]

CG: My second classman stopped me in the hall because I had just yelled “Fly Marine Corps, Sir!” He informed me that I couldn't say that since women weren't allowed to fly in the Marine Corps. Ironic, huh?

AW: Love that story. So had you always wanted to go to the Naval Academy?

CG:  I did. I grew up in Annapolis and I was in middle school when the first women were admitted there. I thought how cool it would be to go to sea and travel the world.

AW: Had you always wanted to be a pilot?

CG: No, actually, I was intending to go Surface Warfare, but my roommates at Navy talked me out of it.

AW: Good decision?

CG: Yeah, I loved it, but I will say that throughout my career, I was usually the only female pilot in my squadron. I had the other female pilot in HC-16, and then you came and went at HMT-303, but most often, I was the only one. But, yeah, it was great.