The Absent Uncle: Hello, ‘CAG’

Today I would like to share a story about my time in the USN – on my second deployment with CVW-11 onboard the USS Kitty Hawk. The year would be 1973 and in the late spring. We had left San Diego, had a quick stop in Hawaii and were on our way to the Philippine Islands to begin a Western Pacific cruise. This time without a war going on in Viet Nam.   

CVW-11 is the command designator for the airwing assigned to the ship for the cruise and is commanded by the “CAG” (Commander, Air Group). I was detailed for most of my four-year Navy time to CVW-11 and being a part of that staff definitely had its advantages. All of us on the staff (approximately 14 officers and enlisted) were there to support the various squadrons assigned to the air wing to supplement and administer what needed to be done to carry out the day-to-day operations, and we worked as a team in our assigned specialties. 

As a Disbursing Clerk (in charge of personal pay records) I really had no part of the day-to-day flight operations (except on the 15th and 30th – Navy paydays!) but I was nonetheless an important part of “getting the job done”.

Our CAG from the previous cruise had departed and the new guy was joining us when we arrived in the Philippines (or so we thought). The old CAG had been strict, professional, and fairly easy to work with. Just do your job, stay in your lane, and all would be fine. 

We were a day or so out of the expected arrival date in the Philippines and had settled into our normal shipboard routine. Twelve hours on – 12 hours off. I was assigned to work overnight – 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. I had just settled into my bunk in the mid-morning when I was given a tap on my shoulder to wake up and report to the CAG’s office immediately – with a calculator. 

Thank goodness we had gotten the “new” electronic calculators (about 15 pounds, but transportable) versus the old mechanical crank type used on my first cruise. 

I did as I was told and in short order was ushered into the small office where he was waiting for me. He was wearing a sweat soaked flight suit, and after a quick introduction, he pulled out his personal pay record and instructed me to let him know how much pay he had coming and when he could expect me to arrange a special payday for him because of his travel and leave time prior to reporting. And he wanted money for arrival in Subic Bay. 

I plugged in the calculator and began the calculation, figuring his pay to date, less taxes, allotments (designated amounts to be sent on his behalf), and how much he already had been paid. Ran it once. Ran it again. Same answer.   

He had been overpaid, and it was significant. 

Not going to bore you with the process, but every six months that individual pay record needed to be balanced for every military person and we were nearing that June 30 date, and he had certainly nothing coming to him that day and would need time to earn enough to bring his pay record into balance. 

He undoubtedly noted my stress (probably I had started sweating myself matching his flight suit). 

“Son, what is the problem?”  he asked, 

“Well … CAG, you are overpaid,” I answered.

“Can you fix it?” he asked next, 

“No sir; only with time sir,” I had to tell him.

He let me know he was somewhat aware of the problem, confessed to bullying previous disbursing clerks to give him what he wanted, appreciated my position, and let me advise him on what I needed to do between that date and June 30 – and bottom line – what he could expect in cash in the meantime.   

The Navy had rules we (he and I) had to follow. Thankfully – he was aware of them.