After my arrival and indoctrination aboard the USS Mobile, I was given the honor of bringing the ship’s company up to date on their damage control qualifications. What better way to become the most popular guy on the ship than to show the Damage Control training film documenting the USS Forrestal flight deck fire of 1967? For two weeks this thirty minute video showed before our nightly ship’s movie. Each crew member was required to sign a statement that they’d seen the movie. Our captain also required the movie be shown to all of his officers.
What had happened to the Forrestal, can happen aboard any ship at sea. Conflagration is a ship’s worst nightmare. If the fire is not put out, the ship will burn, sink and perish along with a lot of good men. 134 men were killed and 62 were injured in this fire. Those that weren’t killed by the fire or explosions, were mostly casualties of smoke inhalation. Many men were found dead, as they were trying to improperly use the Navy Oxygen Breathing Apparatus(O.B.A.)
The mandatory movie didn’t make me popular with the crew, but it got the point across. Every sailor is a fireman, no matter what their specialty, and every man needs to know how to don and operate an O.B.A.
My own Section Four Fire Party didn’t exactly worship me either, but you can bet that they were never bored with any of the training evolutions I came up with. I trained them as best I could and drilled them as I felt they needed it. I never duplicated a fire drill. I exposed each of my men to each piece of Damage Control equipment onboard the ship and required each man in my charge to demonstrate it’s usage. Section Five Fire Party also knew the quickest way to navigate their way around the ship due to the never ending variety of the drills we exercised.
When our other LKA sister ships tied along our side would have a fire drill, we’ve called away the “Rescue and Assistance Detail” to render assistance to their stricken ship. More often than not, we’d be on the scene of their casualty before their own Damage Control crew would be. That was a giant feather in our cap.
Anyway, we had training many times before on the O.B.A. , but I wanted some extra special training for my guys. Today we were going to have everyone in the Fire Party light off an O.B.A. This training, if it went well, would replace our duty section D.C. drill. Earlier in the week I got with the duty corpsman and asked him if he could come up with something to gas out the Carpenter Shop with. Nothing to hurt anyone, just something to get their attention during the training evolution. He said he’d talk to the ship’s doctor and maybe come up with some sort of plan. A couple of days later, our corpsman said he was all set for the show. He was so anxious about it, he even had me a little spooked since he wouldn’t clue me in on any of the details. He assured me though that no one would die from the experience.
Well, our duty day arrived. I had all of my guys mustered in the morning and warned the guys of the O.B.A. training session following the evening meal. Our corpsman acted really obnoxious and kept hinting to the guys about how something bad might happen during this evening’s training evolution. I told the corpsman to clam it up and reminded the guys that they’d all better know their O.B.A.s inside and out since tonight's training session would be special. All day long these guys hounded me about O.B.A.s and tonight’s exercise. When I wouldn’t tell ‘em about what was going to go down, they’d walk away shaking their heads mumbling.
With evening chow out of the way, I had the Section Five Fire Party muster in the Carpenter Shop along with any other interested personnel seeking O.B.A. refresher training. We emptied each repair locker on the Mobile of their stock of O.B.As and returned to the Carpenter Shop. Meanwhile, our faithful corpsman had a Bunsen burner setup inside of a large stainless wash basin, setting on our workbench. He says to me, “You’re really going to enjoy this!” He had me wondering.
I had the men don their O.B.A.s, fit up their face masks and check ‘em out for air leaks. Having done so, I had them remove their masks and had them tucked into their O.B.A. harness, at the ready. Now all these guys needed were the chemical canisters that slid up into the bale assembly of their O.B.A.s. This canister(when operating properly) scrubs out the CO2 of your breath and acts as a re-breather, producing oxygen needed to breath. Once the canister is in place, a lanyard needs to be pulled to activate the canister and you have to make sure the cotter key is at the end of the lanyard or else the thing won’t light off and you won’t have air to breath.
We had about twenty guys dinking with their O.B.A.s, including a couple of officers I hadn’t counted on. It was getting kinda cramped in that little Carpenter shop. The more the merrier! Then there was a knock on the shop door. I opened it to see our ship’s doctor standing in the passageway wearing a bright yellow Nuclear/Biological(Big Bird) jumpsuit and gas mask. In his rubber glove covered hands, he’s holding a wooden box with skulls and crossbones adorning it in plain view. He sat the box on the workbench and tells me and the corpsman to done our gas masks. Needless to say, the guys wearing the O.B.A.s were getting a little anxious and started asking me when I was going to hand out the O.B.A. canisters. I gave out the canisters, had them loaded into the O.B.A.s, but don’t don your masks or pull the canister lanyards till the Doc gives the word.
The Doc had to be sweating his butt off, wearing that Big Bird suit, but he was very methodical as he and the corpsman poured that special clear liquid into the beaker. Then the corpsman placed the beaker on the burner and the Doc tells him to let him know when 45 seconds lapses. The Doc then measures out a dose of green powder from a little brown bottle he’d retrieved from that skull box. “Forty-five seconds Doctor!” The Doc then poured the powder into the beaker and nasty looking green foam started overflowing from the beaker and doused out the burner fire.
“GAS!” The Doc yells! Then I reached over and turned out the lights in the shop... All I could hear were hearts pounding, breaths of muffled anguish peppered with colorful swear words from the twenty men wearing the O.B.A.s.
After a short period, I flicked the lights on and inspected the survivors. Other than the extra wide eyeballs bulging out of their face masks, everyone learned how to properly don and operate an O.B.A. An experience I’m sure that they remember to this day, thirty years later.
The Ship's Doctor wanted to do it again to his com padres in the wardroom, but it was so much work. After cleaning up the mess and disposing of the canisters, I just had to pass.
I asked the Doc what the “Gas Potion” was. "Vinegar and lime Kool Aid."
dz
What had happened to the Forrestal, can happen aboard any ship at sea. Conflagration is a ship’s worst nightmare. If the fire is not put out, the ship will burn, sink and perish along with a lot of good men. 134 men were killed and 62 were injured in this fire. Those that weren’t killed by the fire or explosions, were mostly casualties of smoke inhalation. Many men were found dead, as they were trying to improperly use the Navy Oxygen Breathing Apparatus(O.B.A.)
The mandatory movie didn’t make me popular with the crew, but it got the point across. Every sailor is a fireman, no matter what their specialty, and every man needs to know how to don and operate an O.B.A.
My own Section Four Fire Party didn’t exactly worship me either, but you can bet that they were never bored with any of the training evolutions I came up with. I trained them as best I could and drilled them as I felt they needed it. I never duplicated a fire drill. I exposed each of my men to each piece of Damage Control equipment onboard the ship and required each man in my charge to demonstrate it’s usage. Section Five Fire Party also knew the quickest way to navigate their way around the ship due to the never ending variety of the drills we exercised.
When our other LKA sister ships tied along our side would have a fire drill, we’ve called away the “Rescue and Assistance Detail” to render assistance to their stricken ship. More often than not, we’d be on the scene of their casualty before their own Damage Control crew would be. That was a giant feather in our cap.
Anyway, we had training many times before on the O.B.A. , but I wanted some extra special training for my guys. Today we were going to have everyone in the Fire Party light off an O.B.A. This training, if it went well, would replace our duty section D.C. drill. Earlier in the week I got with the duty corpsman and asked him if he could come up with something to gas out the Carpenter Shop with. Nothing to hurt anyone, just something to get their attention during the training evolution. He said he’d talk to the ship’s doctor and maybe come up with some sort of plan. A couple of days later, our corpsman said he was all set for the show. He was so anxious about it, he even had me a little spooked since he wouldn’t clue me in on any of the details. He assured me though that no one would die from the experience.
Well, our duty day arrived. I had all of my guys mustered in the morning and warned the guys of the O.B.A. training session following the evening meal. Our corpsman acted really obnoxious and kept hinting to the guys about how something bad might happen during this evening’s training evolution. I told the corpsman to clam it up and reminded the guys that they’d all better know their O.B.A.s inside and out since tonight's training session would be special. All day long these guys hounded me about O.B.A.s and tonight’s exercise. When I wouldn’t tell ‘em about what was going to go down, they’d walk away shaking their heads mumbling.
With evening chow out of the way, I had the Section Five Fire Party muster in the Carpenter Shop along with any other interested personnel seeking O.B.A. refresher training. We emptied each repair locker on the Mobile of their stock of O.B.As and returned to the Carpenter Shop. Meanwhile, our faithful corpsman had a Bunsen burner setup inside of a large stainless wash basin, setting on our workbench. He says to me, “You’re really going to enjoy this!” He had me wondering.
I had the men don their O.B.A.s, fit up their face masks and check ‘em out for air leaks. Having done so, I had them remove their masks and had them tucked into their O.B.A. harness, at the ready. Now all these guys needed were the chemical canisters that slid up into the bale assembly of their O.B.A.s. This canister(when operating properly) scrubs out the CO2 of your breath and acts as a re-breather, producing oxygen needed to breath. Once the canister is in place, a lanyard needs to be pulled to activate the canister and you have to make sure the cotter key is at the end of the lanyard or else the thing won’t light off and you won’t have air to breath.
We had about twenty guys dinking with their O.B.A.s, including a couple of officers I hadn’t counted on. It was getting kinda cramped in that little Carpenter shop. The more the merrier! Then there was a knock on the shop door. I opened it to see our ship’s doctor standing in the passageway wearing a bright yellow Nuclear/Biological(Big Bird) jumpsuit and gas mask. In his rubber glove covered hands, he’s holding a wooden box with skulls and crossbones adorning it in plain view. He sat the box on the workbench and tells me and the corpsman to done our gas masks. Needless to say, the guys wearing the O.B.A.s were getting a little anxious and started asking me when I was going to hand out the O.B.A. canisters. I gave out the canisters, had them loaded into the O.B.A.s, but don’t don your masks or pull the canister lanyards till the Doc gives the word.
The Doc had to be sweating his butt off, wearing that Big Bird suit, but he was very methodical as he and the corpsman poured that special clear liquid into the beaker. Then the corpsman placed the beaker on the burner and the Doc tells him to let him know when 45 seconds lapses. The Doc then measures out a dose of green powder from a little brown bottle he’d retrieved from that skull box. “Forty-five seconds Doctor!” The Doc then poured the powder into the beaker and nasty looking green foam started overflowing from the beaker and doused out the burner fire.
“GAS!” The Doc yells! Then I reached over and turned out the lights in the shop... All I could hear were hearts pounding, breaths of muffled anguish peppered with colorful swear words from the twenty men wearing the O.B.A.s.
After a short period, I flicked the lights on and inspected the survivors. Other than the extra wide eyeballs bulging out of their face masks, everyone learned how to properly don and operate an O.B.A. An experience I’m sure that they remember to this day, thirty years later.
The Ship's Doctor wanted to do it again to his com padres in the wardroom, but it was so much work. After cleaning up the mess and disposing of the canisters, I just had to pass.
I asked the Doc what the “Gas Potion” was. "Vinegar and lime Kool Aid."
dz
1 comment:
Thx for this important post. Love the writing and the twist at the end.
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