Lt. Commander Bill Goss, USN (Ret) is an internationally
known speaker and author. Enlisting in 1974,
Bill worked on underwater weapons in Europe
for the U.S. Navy until he was discharged
as a Mineman Second Class in 1977. A former New Jersey Golden Glove boxer, Bill was also the light-heavy weight boxing champion at the U.S. Naval Air Stations in Pensacola, Corpus Christi, and Jacksonville. After his enlisted tour of duty, Bill attended
Rutgers University on the GI Bill and earned
an MBA from the Southern New Hampshire University. Bill graduated Aviation Officer
Candidate School in Pensacola, Florida, and
earned his Navy Wings of Gold the following
year in Corpus Christi, Texas.
As a P-3
Orion pilot, Bill flew missions against
Soviet submarines in the North and South Atlantic
and Mediterranean and deployed to a very wide
variety of sites around the world. He became
an instructor pilot in the T-44 Pegasus and
then the Assistant Navigator of the nuclear
aircraft carrier, USS Carl Vinson, deploying
throughout the Pacific from the Vinson's homeport
in the San Francisco Bay area. Bill and his
family returned to the east coast where he
flew P-3 Orions and a variety of other aircraft
while working for the admiral at NAS Jacksonville.
While there, Bill was diagnosed with a rare
form of cancer called amelanotic malignant
melanoma, had surgery, and retired from the
Navy. Bill is the author of The Luckiest
Unlucky Man Alive: A Wild Ride Overcoming
Life's Greatest Challenges -- And How You
Can Too. His second book, published by
Simon and Schuster's newest hardcover imprint,
Atria Books, is titled There's a Flying
Squirrel in My Coffee: Overcoming Cancer With
the Help of My Pet.
Bill is a contributing writer to many other
books including the New York Times bestseller,
Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul. Bill's life story has been featured on national
and international radio shows, and in publications
such as the Chicago Tribune, The Los Angeles
Times, New Jersey Star Ledger, The Dallas
Morning News, The St. Petersburg Times,
and Maxim Magazine.
A motivational and inspirational speaker,
Bill is featured every month on the Discovery
Channel's Animal Planet. Bill's mailing address
is:
Bill Goss International
P.O. Box 7060
Orange Park, FL 32073
I received the below correspondence via email yesterday regarding the civility of the worldwide media on board the aircraft carrier USS ABRAHAM LINCOLN while it was conducting humanitarian aid off the cost of Sumatra. When I was the Assistant Navigator on board the USS CARL VINSON, I too, observed a similar attitude when the media visited aboard our ship, but not nearly to the extent described below. It is an interesting and heartfelt read.
Bill Goss
Lt. Commander, USN (Ret)
It has been three weeks since my ship, the USS ABRAHAM LINCOLN, arrived off the Sumatran coast to aid the hundreds of thousands of victims of the Dec. 26 tsunami that ravaged their coastline. I'd like to say that this has been a rewarding experience for us, but it has not: Instead, it has been a frustrating and needlessly dangerous exercise made even more difficult by the Indonesian government and a traveling circus of so-called aid workers who have invaded our spaces.
What really irritated me was a scene I witnessed the Lincoln's wardroom a few days ago. I went in for breakfast as I usually do, expecting to see the usual crowd of ship's company officers in khakis and air wing aviators in flight suits, drinking coffee and exchanging rumors about when our ongoing humanitarian mission in Sumatra is going to end.
What I saw instead was a mob of civilians sitting around like they owned the place. They wore various colored vests with logos on the back including Save The Children, World Health Organization and the dreaded baby blue vest of the United Nations. Mixed in with this crowd were a bunch of reporters, cameramen and Indonesian military officers in uniform. They all carried cameras, sunglasses and fanny packs like tourists on their way to Disneyland.
My warship had been transformed into a floating hotel for a bunch of trifling do-gooders overnight.
As I went through the breakfast line, I overheard one of the U.N. strap-hangers, a longhaired guy with a beard, make a sarcastic comment to one of our food servers. He said something along the lines of "Nice china, really makes me feel special," in reference to the fact that we were eating off of paper plates that day. It was all I could do to keep from jerking him off his feet and choking him, because I knew that the reason we were eating off paper plates was to save dishwashing water so that we would have more water to send ashore and save lives. That plus the fact that he had no business being there in the first place.
My attitude towards these unwanted no-loads grew steadily worse that day as I learned more from one of our junior officers who was assigned to escort a group of them. It turns out that they had come to Indonesia to "assess the damage" from the Dec. 26 tsunami.
Well, they could have turned on any TV in the world and seen that the damage was total devastation. When they got to Sumatra with no plan, no logistics support and no five-star hotels to stay in, they threw themselves on the mercy of the U.S. Navy, which, unfortunately, took them in. I guess our senior brass was hoping for some good PR since this was about the time that the U.N. was calling the United States "stingy" with our relief donations.
As a result of having to host these people, our severely over-tasked SH-60 Seahawk helos, which were carrying tons of food and water every day to the most inaccessible places in and around Banda Aceh, are now used in great part to ferry these "relief workers" from place to place every day and bring them back to their guest bedrooms on the Lincoln at night. Despite their avowed dedication to helping the victims, these relief workers will not spend the night in-country, and have made us their guardians by default.
When our wardroom treasurer approached the leader of the relief group and asked him who was paying the mess bill for all the meals they ate, the fellow replied, "We aren't paying, you can try to bill the U.N. if you want to."
In addition to the relief workers, we routinely get tasked with hauling around reporters and various low-level "VIPs," which further wastes valuable helo lift that could be used to carry supplies. We had to dedicate two helos and a C-2 cargo plane for America-hater Dan Rather and his entourage of door holders and briefcase carriers from CBS News. Another camera crew was from MTV. I doubt if we'll get any good PR from them, since the cable channel is banned in Muslim countries. We also had to dedicate a helo and crew to fly around the vice mayor of Phoenix, Ariz., one day. Everyone wants in on the action.
As for the Indonesian officers, while their job is apparently to encourage our leaving as soon as possible, all they seem to do in the meantime is smoke cigarettes. They want our money and our help but they don't want their population to see that Americans are doing far more for them in two weeks than their own government has ever done or will ever do for them.
To add a kick in the face to the USA and the Lincoln, the Indonesian government announced it would not allow us to use their airspace for routine training and flight proficiency operations while we are saving the lives of their people, some of whom are wearing Osama bin Ladin T-shirts as they grab at our food and water. The ship has to steam out into international waters to launch and recover jets, which makes our helos have to fly longer distances and burn more fuel.
What is even worse than trying to help people who totally reject everything we stand for is that our combat readiness has suffered for it.
An aircraft carrier is an instrument of national policy and the big stick she carries is her air wing. An air wing has a set of very demanding skills and they are highly perishable. We train hard every day at sea to conduct actual air strikes, air defense, maritime surveillance, close air support and many other missions - not to mention taking off and landing on a ship at sea.
Our safety regulations state that if a pilot does not get a night carrier landing every seven days, he has to be re-qualified to land on the ship. Today we have pilots who have now been over 25 days without a trap due to being unable to use Indonesian airspace to train. Normally it is when we are at sea that our readiness is at its very peak. Thanks to the Indonesian government, we have to waive our own safety rules just to get our pilots off the deck.
In other words, the longer we stay here helping these people, the more dangerous it gets for us to operate. We have already lost one helicopter, which crashed in Banda Aceh while taking sailors ashore to unload supplies from the C-130s. There were no relief workers on that one.
I'm all for helping the less fortunate, but it is time to give this mission to somebody other than the U.S. Navy. Our ship was supposed to be home on Feb. 3 and now we have no idea how long we will be here. American taxpayers are spending millions per day to keep this ship at sea and getting no training value out of it. As a result, we will come home in a lower state of readiness than when we left due to the lack of flying while supporting the tsunami relief effort.
I hope we get some good PR in the Muslim world out of it. After all, this is Americans saving the lives of Muslims. I have my doubts.
Ed Stanton is the pen name of a career U.S. Navy officer currently serving with the USS Abraham Lincoln carrier strike group. Send Feedback responses to dwfeedback@yahoo.com.
