Nickolas R.

Weber

Failure to Launch

This is about a ka-bar. One that I got from my friend Robert. We had made a bet at the

last port, in Seychelles. As it turns out this is the most magnificent and beautiful tropical island

paradise in the world, in my opinion. The bet we made was one we concocted while enjoying

Robert’s favorite drink, tequila sunrises at the bar. One of us came up with this ‘great’ idea that

whichever one of us could get the group of us (there was 5 of us) into this network of hot chicks

or at least in their good graces. That were sunbathing, topless, at the pool of the hotel we were

staying at. It was a close call, as we both approached, and zeroed in, however mine got a little

friendlier faster, he decided to give it to me. That was the kind of guy Robert was. He had a

boyish tough exterior, but he was a big teddy bear at heart. Later on that evening, we ended up

partying with them and their friends that turned the whole hotel into a giant frat house. They

were with some group of performers that were there to put on a show for a Saudi Prince that was

coming to town. This was a party of epic proportions, one that will forever go down in the

history books for the wildest, greatest, most exceptional parties ever to be had in some lush,

tropical paradise.

It was a cold, stormy day aboard the USS Belleau Wood. Probably one of the worst

storms we had seen since we started this deployment. The boat was rocking so bad, it almost

seemed like we were going to hit one of these larger-than-life waves and not be able to make it

over. Trying to get anywhere on this boat was a momentous undertaking in and of itself. The

swaying was mammoth, huge swings to the left and then equally monstrous swings back to the

right. It really it felt as if you were walking sideways as the boat rocked to and fro.
 It was chow time, Robert, Bonsai, and me went to eat chow back in the ships chow hall.

After lunch, we went down to the smoke pit. The smoke pits are in the hull of the ship. As we all

finished our smokes, Robert left first to go see what we had to be done on the birds (nickname

for one of the CH-46 aircraft) after chow. It was then as we were walking back to the shop when

we heard the loud alarm going off and the general quarters call being blasted over the

loudspeakers. As we scurried back to shop since the Navy’s alarm was going off. No less than

after 5 or 6 heads counts, that we realized Robert was nowhere in sight. As everyone was

figuring out who saw him last, it was a surreal moment as we had just been talking during our

unofficial meeting, we had down the smoke pit. Smoke pits are the ‘water coolers’ of the military

underground where information is passed around. Where you can find out who has what, where

you need to be or who you need to see in order to get some real work done. Something perhaps

against code or just plain something you do not want to get out to the masses, then the smoke pit

is where you need to be. It’s funny, cause there was always that one guy, who seemingly was

forever in the smoke pit. Rumor floating around, was that one of the rail guards had seen an

alleged body go whizzing by him, that had gone over the rails.

By now we were freaking out, since we had just been with Robert and then, he’s

nowhere in sight. He was not in the berthing areas, nor in the shop, the smoke pit, or even the

head (bathroom).

The Air Traffic Controller was delaying on sending the birds to perform Search and

Rescue mission. He wanted everyone to keep doing a head count. I knew every second that we

weren’t launching one of our birds and were up there in the air, was ever exponentially

increasing the odds that he would not be recovered. As it turns out, we never found him. Robert

was lost to the sea.