In 1967 our Navy squadron had fourteen flight crews. I was a Patrol Plane Commander (PPC) of one of the crews, Combat Aircrew Twelve (CAC-12). That distinction was very unusual for a first tour pilot. With twelve Lieutenant Commanders in the squadron, all with PPC priority, to be given one of the crews was a proud honor. My selection was mostly a matter of being in the right place at the right time, keeping my nose clean in off-duty behavior, and having a particularly close relationship with our commanding officer as the squadron’s supply officer.

Being junior to all other PPCs meant my crew got most of the undesirable missions; like the Christmas Eve patrol, weekend ready duty assignments, and bad-weather launches. It also meant I was given a young, less experienced crew. The LCDRs had Navy chiefs for flight engineers. Mine was a 3rd class Airman. But my crew of ten was an enthusiastic team of hard chargers, who took pride in never aborting a mission, and met every lousy assignment with a gung-ho positive attitude.

We were deployed to Rota, Spain for six months in 1967. This was a very prickly period during the Cold War with heavy Soviet submarine traffic in the Mediterranean that kept our planes in the air constantly. My crew had not had a day off in months. During our fifth month in Spain, it looked like we were finally going to get four days of liberty. The crew planned to spend the time in the lively city of Seville.

However, the night before we were to go on leave, the squadron received orders to send a crew to Sigonella, Sicily, to serve as observers in a NATO exercise being conducted there. Guess who got the assignment? Yeah, right, LT J. F. Stark and CAC-12.

When we landed in Sigonella, I learned we would have sixteen hours before we boarded another squadron’s aircraft to observe the exercise. I made a quick decision and called the crew together. “Look,” I said, “you all ought to hit the sack and rest up for tomorrow’s activities, but it’s been so long since we have had any fun. If you’re willing to forgo sleep, I’ll arrange transportation and we can all go to Catania, about an hour from here, a colorful little city at the base of Mount Etna for a day of R & R?” The crew unanimously voted for the R & R.

Jumping on a base telephone I called Special Services and arranged for the only transportation available, a forty-five-passenger tour bus to take out crew of eleven to the ancient city of Catania. Personnel at the air station told me Catania was extremely colorful with historic attractions, sidewalk cafés, and was crawling with young European tourists. The city’s biggest attraction was a hike up to Mount Etna’s smoldering, active volcano rim.

While waiting for the bus, I made a quick run to the PX where I purchased beer and wine for the trip to Catania. We wouldn’t be doing any flying the next day, just riding along as observers. The drive to the city was memorable. Whenever the crew spotted a pedestrian, they insisted we stop the bus and offer to share our commodious transportation and refreshments. Young ladies strolling along the road were particularly welcomed and soon we had a full complement of joyfully singing companions heading to the big city.

Catania was indeed fascinating. Founded by the Greeks, the city had been conquered by the Romans in 263 AD. It had two Roman amphitheaters and miles of underground catacombs. The city’s wide streets and majestic palaces were built during the eightieth century. As promised, Catania was full of young European vagabond backpackers attracted to the city’s festive atmosphere and active volcano.

I have a lasting picture in my mind of my crew at the end of its sixteen-hour liberty, locked arm-in-arm with other young revelers, strolling down the streets of Catania.

Our brief reprieve in Sicily proved to be a timely break because our return to Rota on June 5, 1967 coincided with the start of the historic Six-Day War between Israel and the Arab states of Egypt. More around-the-clock flying followed. Our crew logged 85 flight hours that June.

(Stark, knelling, far right)