Today I was driving between Presque Isle and our home in Limestone and I saw a tattered American flag flying in the wind. In my mind and heart I remembered the flag that I served under when I was just a kid off the farm, so to speak. I remembered being at a concert in Philadelphia and seeing some guy wearing the same flag on the seat of his britches. Now, that totally went against all I had been taught. But, as a sailor in the “Greatest Navy” in the world I overlooked it.
Today as I saw that tattered flag, the red still red and the white still white and the blue still the bluest blue, my thoughts were quickened to the times I have read about, of battles where that banner was tattered and torn and full of holes. It was quickened to the flag raising on Iwo Jima in World War II and Khe Sahn in Vietnam, as well as places in the Middle East that I can’t even spell, much less pronounce. It is still the same flag.
When I was in the Mediterranean in 1976 and ‘77, I used to go up to the flying bridge atop the pilothouse and just lie down in the shade of the gun director and look at the mast. There in the wind was Old Glory, waving for all to see and to show that she still flies.
At one time my ship was tasked with anchoring in the Gulf of Salaam. We were watching a small fleet of Russian naval vessels. This fleet consisted of a Kresta class cruiser, a Riga class guided missile frigate, three Whiskey class submarines and their sub tender, as well as several other support ships. When we steamed in and dropped anchor, it seemed like all the rails were lined with Russian sailors on those vessels. Then again, our rails were lined with sailors, too.
When two naval vessels pass each other, the custom is to render honors to the other vessel by dipping the ensign or flag momentarily, as well as the topside crew coming to attention, facing the other ship and rendering a hand salute. As we entered the area the word was passed topside to render honors to port (the side the ships were on) and then a whistle blew to signify the dipping of the flag and salute from the crew. When honors had been rendered the whistle blew again to carry on. I noticed that we dipped the Stars and Stripes, but they never lowered the hammer and sickle.
We were in the Gulf for 28 days until the need for fuel caused us to be relieved so we could meet a fleet oiler and then proceed to our port of call. I will never forget those 28 days that began with a snub from the Russian fleet and a show of gallantry from the officers and men of the guided missile frigate USS Talbot.
I have several pictures of the Talbot here on the walls, and when I look at them I lose my thoughts to the times of a young man of 19 who, for the very first time, saw the second love of his life when she steamed around the point of the bay in Guantanamo, Cuba. As that happens, all I can do is Remember When …
Guy Woodworth of Presque Isle is a 1973 graduate of Presque Isle High School and a four-year Navy veteran. He and his wife Theresa have two grown sons and five grandchildren. He may be contacted at lightning117_1999@yahoo.com.
