_JPG.jpg)
An intimate accounting of the life of VA-115 A-6 Intruder crews deployed aboard the USS Midway over the summer of 1980.
When I ordered Over the Horizon, well over a year ago, I expected to read about life flying the A-6 Intruder. I expected scenes detailing the concentration, rush, and fear of flying 420 plus knots at 100 feet above the trees to prosecute an enemy target. I expected to read about getting launched from the ship and the pucker factor of coming back aboard on a moonless night with a pitching deck. I expected descriptions of playing cat and mouse with the Soviet or Chinese navy. I expected to relive, from someone else who has seen it, the grandeur of the Milky Way as seen from the cockpit miles above the ocean on other moonless, but crystal-clear, nights.
Luke Ridenhour delivered all that but so much more. What one comes away with from reading his work, is a very human, touching, and personal inside look of pilots and bombardier-navigators (BNs) flying the A-6 Intruder. Ridenhour easily captures the comradery, joy, pride, terror, and heartbreak that those of us who have worn US Navy Wings know all too well. Sights, sounds, and yes, aromas of the Far East come to life vividly, described by someone who has experienced them firsthand. As does life aboard what was in 1980 one of the oldest active-duty aircraft carriers.
From a pilot’s perspective, Luke captures, without getting waded down in jargon, the skill required of the Intruder crews; the skill needed to fly and navigate an aircraft in the most demanding of conditions that seems to be something of a forgotten art today when airplanes all but essentially fly themselves.
What surprised me the most was the heartwarming relationship between Lunker, one of the main characters, and his golf caddy at the base in the Philippines. When the two must finally say goodbye, toward the end of the book, is easily one of the most touching and moving written scenes I have had the pleasure to read in some time. Ridenhour, intentionally, or not, reminds us that it is the connection with other humans in this life, and the nurturing of those connections, that are what is most important during our brief time on this planet.
The other surprising, but not entirely unexpected, scene is when a crew of journalists come aboard to learn about life on the carrier and get an Education at Sea. The immense respect the officers carry for the sailors and chiefs who keep the jets flying and the ship moving is clear and the shear professionalism of the entire crew is richly detailed, along with all the requisite shenanigans that make life at sea tolerable. Ridenhour obviously had a good chief petty officer training him his first tour. Banter and commentary during discussion with the journalists over sliders and auto-dog in the dirty shirt wardroom late at night about political decisions made in the 70’s and early 80’s speak directly to the present day.
For those who never had the pleasure and honor of serving in the US military, this book offers a look at a side of service rarely discussed. The detail and humanity described throughout are impeccable. And apart from the discussions with the journalists, there are other characters and scenes that Luke describes with exquisite vividness that speak to the present day, if the reader choices to listen, and that is perhaps the most important reason for both veterans and civilians to open his work and take a peek Over the Horizon.
Namaste folks,
Mark
July 20, 2021
PostScript
There is a direct, personal connection between myself and Mr. Ridenhour. Have a look at the subsequent article, Over the Time Horizon to read about that.
Comments