THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, September 25, 1996 TAG: 9609250551
SECTION: MILITARY NEWS PAGE: A10 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: At Sea
SOURCE: Norman MacGregor
LENGTH: 60 lines
The sirens go off. As I open my eyes wondering what emergency is occurring, the darkness of the room hides any evidence of possible danger. I quickly realize the sirens are coming from my alarm clock. It's time to get up once again and get ready for watch.
After a quick shower my eyes are finally open wide. I jump into my uniform and inspect it in the mirror. The uniform I and every sailor on Enterprise wears represents a long-standing tradition of naval power throughout the last 200 years. It takes us to all corners of the world to answer the call of our national leaders.
After a quick shave I'm out the door for my rounds throughout the ship before assuming watch as the officer of the deck. My first stop is to see the engineers below decks. Because of them, we are able to keep the ship steaming and perform sustained operations. They also provide many comforts day in and day out, such as homemade fresh water, electricity and much-needed air conditioning. Tonight they inform me that only training drills are planned, along with some routine maintenance. The electrical officer assures me of nothing but smooth sailing.
Next I head towards the combat direction center, the nerve center of the ship. On my way, I pass through the aircraft-filled hangar bay of this mammoth ship. It is alive with sailors working on, beside and beneath their aircraft. The night crews' job is to get their babies serviced and ready for flight operations tomorrow. They work intensely in the amber light to complete their projects before daylight.
I arrive in combat, where the officers run down a list of our operational radar and weapons systems available for the evening. As always, they brief me on the threat at hand. This time we are steaming in the Red Sea, and there is the chance that someone could challenge our position at any time. The sailors in combat are my eyes in the sky. They will inform me of anything that may pose a threat to our ship. If I don't hear from them tonight it won't ruin my day.
Once briefed by the combat team, I proceed to my final destination, the bridge.
As I climb up eight levels of ladders, my senses become more and more attuned to my surroundings. I'm early, so I have time to step outside before I assume the watch. I feel the fresh sea air hit my face. The sky is filled with glimmering stars and planets. I can easily see most of the constellations I was told about as a kid. I take my last breath of salty air and head for the bridge.
Stepping inside, I can barely distinguish all the figures about me. The radar screen and indicators throw off a low glow and my vision finally adjusts. After a thorough turnover with the out-going officer of the deck, I assume the watch.
I am barely 25 years old and once again have the opportunity to take on the responsibility of a lifetime. I have earned my captain's trust and confidence. Tonight my job is to ensure the safety of the ship and the lives of more than 5,000 shipmates. I am lucky and privileged in this grand opportunity. I have the watch. MEMO: This story was written by Enterprise Lt. j.g. Norman MacGregor,
assigned to the Reactor Department as the reactor controls division
officer. He also stands watch as officer of the deck. by CNB