The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Wednesday, February 5, 1997           TAG: 9702050645
SECTION: MILITARY NEWS           PAGE: A6   EDITION: FINAL 
COLUMN: AT SEA 
SOURCE: BY DENISE SANDERS 
                                            LENGTH:   65 lines

A LETTER FROM A SMALL TOWN THAT HAS JETS ON ITS "ROOF"

Hey, Sis!

Yes, I know I never write. You know me - it's easier to pick up a phone or use e-mail, especially since I started working on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier.

Remember when we were growing up in Clay, Ala.? Well, you could compare the ship I'm on right now to Clay. We have many of the same things you'd find in a small town - a medical team capable of surgery, restaurants that serve four meals a day, two stores, a library and a church. We're actually ahead of Clay in some regards: We have a TV and radio station.

The one thing I had to get used to, and that Clay certainly will never boast, is aircraft flying on and off the ``roof.''

Our day begins early on the Theodore Roosevelt. I often squeeze in a maintenance meeting that covers the flight schedule and the required aircraft repair for the day before 7 a.m. I sure wish Mother was here to cook breakfast on those mornings.

The most challenging part of the job, though, comes when I'm on the flight deck. I look forward to each launch, and there's no feeling that compares to being part of sending a jet thundering off the bow of the world's most powerful warship. You'd be amazed by it, Tina.

Don't think I don't know the dangers of a job like this. I'm trained to react quickly if a jet experiences problems during the launch. I only have minutes, sometimes seconds, to correct it. When you're down to those last few seconds, your adrenaline is pumping, and you feel like a football player trying to make the big score. We're constantly training to safely finish complex jobs in a hurry.

And as soon as all our planes are launched, ``Man all recovery stations'' is announced on the public address system, and we prepare the deck for the return of our jets. As the planes land, their plane captains fuel and inspect them for the next go, and we can work launches and recoveries until late in the day.

By that time my bed in the berthing compartment I share with 36 other female chief petty officers doesn't seem so bad. I guess growing up with four sisters helped.

When I get off the roof at the end of a typical workday, I have to go straight to chow because the mess closes at 6:30 p.m. By the time I eat and take a shower, the only thing I want to do is crawl into my rack.

Some days on the roof are beautiful, with little wind and bright sunshine. Others buffet us with winds, and bring cold, soaking rains. After a storm one day, I watched a jet in my squadron launch from Catapult No. 3 against a double rainbow, its colors magnificent. And tonight, as evening settled in over the ship, the sun was a huge orange ball slipping behind the water.

Then there are those nights when flight ops continue until 1 or 2 a.m. Imagine getting into your bed while jets land on the floor above you. I sleep on the top rack, and sometimes it sounds and feels as if the planes are going to come right through the steel. Still, I often hear only the first one land, and sleep through the other 10 or 11. I don't know how I do it, but I'm able to doze off in the midst of an indescribable din.

I'm headed for bed now. We just left Haifa, Israel, this morning, and we're now back at sea. The flight deck will be busy all too soon.

I miss you and love you,

Dee MEMO: Chief Petty Officer Denise Sanders is a flight deck coordinator

with Air Wing 3, Squadron VFA-37, aboard the Norfolk-based carrier

Theodore Roosevelt, under way in the Mediterranean Sea.


by CNB