Thinking On Watch Can Be Dangerous

As I stood on the quarterdeck sweating in the humidity, I relished the moment of peace I had while standing watch. In that moment, I became fixated on the flags flying in front of me. The National Ensign, Japan’s flag, the Navy’s own, our ship’s flag and the POW/MIA banner. Watching the flags wave in the wind, flowing proudly made me stand a little stiffer. I looked to my left, and saw the entirety of Sasebo City with its homes climbing the mountain becoming more and scarce on the way to the top. To my right rested several Japanese warships, their own respective flags waving in the wind, while behind me stood the never changing scene that was the base. In that moment I thought about where I was, what I was doing, and how it played into my defending these great United States. I didn’t have a weapon, there was no apparent enemy, and the land I was fighting for was hundreds of miles away. My watch seemed trivial in the grand aspect of things; that I, a lowly Ensign, was part of the world’s greatest fighting force and that my role was critical. Then it hit me more than ever.

I was in Japan - and I would be for another two years, and in Japan I had a mission. I saluted the next passerby requesting permission to go ashore and let them leave. My attention broken, I looked back and stared at the grey mammoth that was my home. The Essex, LHD 2 if you will… the “deuce” to many. I chuckled unexpectedly under my breath as I realized I was 7,000 miles from the balmy Baton Rouge I left. Surely coming to Japan was never part of my plan… I though back hard, trying to remember if it was ever even an option. After some thought, I had realized I made the decision on a whim literally within minutes on my ship selection day. Then the inevitable question poised itself in my mind. Do I regret that decision? Another moment of deliberation leads me to think that it may have been one of the best decisions I have ever made. Japan isn’t America, not by a long shot. It is an unquestionably difficult challenge I deal with on a daily basis; from the physical distance from my loved ones to the time difference and difficulty in communicating with them. The hardest thing about being in Japan is that no one from Louisiana will ever understand it. The customs, the stress, the multitude of work required to get something as simple as a bike permit or a much needed signature. The pace of work is elevated from what it is stateside and frankly, if someone has never worked as part of the forward deployed Navy there is no real way to describe it. Most days I just focus on the main issue of work but never get a chance to “escape.” It is difficult because while I do have a furnitureless apartment, I still live on the ship. I sleep on the ship. I wake up on the ship. I eat on the ship. I study on the ship. It’s not the easiest thing to cope with. I know from experience that it is even worse underway.

Despite the monotony of the Essex I still have a good time on board and often find new adventures. I find myself now on a beanbag in my air conditioned apartment listening to Billy Joel and typing to relieve the stress. I look out of a crack in the curtain and see the hills of Sasebo. For some reason the houses look different than on the ship, speckling the top of the tree covered mountain. From this spot, in my house, where I have control, they are part of my view… Granted the apartment is paid for by the Navy, but that’s as far as its reach goes. I own this moment, and with it comes the relief and break I have been anticipating for so long. I feel good, relaxed even. I sigh and continue to type away thinking about tomorrow, our morning workout, how many signatures I will need, and of course of all the unexpected surprises I never see coming. But finally before I hit submit and pass this on to the public space that is the internet, I smile.