My 9/11 Story

Everybody has their 9/11 story. Some are more interesting than others, but one thing that is binding is that we all vividly remember the events of that day… Some were there. Some wanted to be there. Some just wanted to be near their family. Then there were those of us who were nowhere near. Those of us who were to do our part, half-way around the world.

September 11, 2001, 4:30pm (8:30am EDT) -
At the time, I was deployed aboard the USS Enterprise. We had just completed operations in the Persian Gulf in support of Operation Southern Watch. At this time, we were five months into our deployment. We were steaming South, headed towards South Africa where we were to stop and celebrate the anniversary of their military. It was a much anticipated stop, since we were to be the first carrier to pull into Joahasberg for many years. We had also gone quite a while without a good port call. At the time, we were hours away from the equator, and were in the midst of setting up for the “shellback” initiation of the crew. I was working nights at the time, 7pm to 7am, so I was sleeping at the time.

4:46pm-
Flight 11 hits WTC North

Sometime shortly thereafter-
We were awakened by a call over the ship’s 1MC, alerting us that the Captain had something to say. This wasn’t out of the ordinary, but this one had an ominous feel to it. Those of us who were sleeping at the time slowly rose in our racks to listen to the Skipper. What followed was the most shocking thing a deployed military unit can hear. The Skipper informed us that our country – our home – was under attack and that specific details were not yet available. People began pouring from their racks, all of the sleep was gone, replaced by a sense of urgency and confusion. People were scrambling into their coveralls and boots, some people took off running to their stations, others gathered around the small TV that occupied a corner of our berthing. CNN was already starting to stream video from New York. We watched in silence.

5:02pm-
Flight 175 hits WTC South. We watch this as knots form in our guts. There were muted whispers going between people, but nobody really had much to say. The loss of life was devastating to us. We had been charged with the defense of our Nation, but where were we? Through the confusion, there was also a sense of despair. We were far away from our own loved ones. Our country was under attack by unknown forces. We were half-way around the world, and the only thing we could do was to watch the events on CNN. It’s a grim perspective when you consider that you’re currently part of the most powerful mobile force on earth.

Shortly Thereafter-
Most of us took off to our shops. For me, this meant crossing the hanger bay in its entirety. I had never seen it so tense or quiet. People were running every which way on their way to their own shops. I was running myself, not sure why, but driven by a sense of urgency. At some point I noted that the ship was turning. I knew we were headed back to the Gulf. In the shop, everybody was gathered around the TV. We all gathered and watched in horror as the now infamous events unfolded.

5:37pm-
Flight 77 hits the Pentagon. We watched this, and suddenly things became very personal. This was not only an attack on American citizens, it was an attack on the military as well. Military personnel were now among the dead. This act of terrorism was now an act of war.

6:03pm-
Flight 93 crashes as the result of a passenger uprising. For over an hour now, the country has been in chaos. Our home was being attacked and Americans were dying. The Enterprise and her battle group were now steaming North, back towards the Gulf and the Arabian Sea. We were to be the first American forces to respond to the events. While this made us proud, the feeling of being away from our loved ones through all of this was unbearable.

September 12, 2001, 1:20 am-
WTC 7 collapses. It is the final building collapse of the ordeal. In all, 2974 people were dead. We’re left without answers, half-way around the globe. Our mission had changed in a single day. The peacetime deployment that we were enjoying was gone. We were humbled by the tragedy, but determined by our sense of duty. We were an extension of our home. A powerful arm that was already within reach of the enemy, and we were prepared to take that enemy on and make them pay.

In the weeks that follow-
We were stuck waiting. We still had no definitive answers. Our communications with home had been cut off due to operational security. We had taken up station in the Arabian sea, and were waiting. Life had become interesting. We had been issued our chemical warfare equipment and had been under order to carry gas masks at all times since 9/11. Having to carry a gas mask is an eerie thing. You never really get used to the fact that you’re lugging it around with you. We trained with them all the time prior to 9/11, but now it was for real. In the back of your mind you know that when you’re ordered to carry your mask and keep it within reach at all times, things aren’t good. As the weeks progressed, we started to take on a good deal of ordinance. If you’ve never eaten breakfast next to a JDAM, you haven’t really lived. Since the galleys were open areas, ordinance was staged there before going up to the hanger deck. So at this time, it wasn’t uncommon for bombs and missiles to be stored next to our tables. We stopped taking on non-essential food and drink at this time too, so our food often times originated from powder and the only drink that we had was desalinated water. Yumm.

October 7, 2001, 10:15pm-
Our planes had been leaving with ordinance. We knew that something was going to happen soon, but we were still in the dark. That night, we were out watching flight operations when we noticed fire on the horizon. We thought that it might be oil wells, but the fire was moving, and there were many of them. We determined that the fire was actually missiles firing. Our battle group was beginning to fire their Tomahawks. We were now officially at war. Operation Enduring Freedom had begun, and we were the tip of the spear. America wouldn’t know about this for another 45 minutes. This was a surprise attack on the Taliban. Our missiles and strike aircraft were hitting Afghanistan with an massive aerial strike. The wait was over. Soon after, we started to watch our aircraft return, this time without ordinance. This wasn’t a drill. We were at war.

The feelings were mixed. Most of us had joined during peacetime, and this was our first taste of war. The pace of life changes, and suddenly you realize that everything you do is for real. This wasn’t just drilling and training. The planes you were putting into the air were delivering real ordinance against real targets. It’s all very surreal.

Over the next weeks-
At this time, our original return date had come and gone, and it had been months since our last port visit. We had been out to sea for a long time. Over three weeks, we flew 700 missions over Afghanistan. Thousands of pound of ordinance were dropped on Afghanistan compliments of our aircraft. Many of the bombs dropped carried massages from us. “My” bomb proudly stated “Here’s some love from Minnesota.” At the end of the month, we were relieved by the USS Rosevelt.

We had General Tommy Franks come aboard to officially relieve us and tell us we had done our job. He also told us he carried a message from home, and would hug each and every one of us.

We left the Arabian Sea and began the long trip home. We passed through the Suez canal at night, hoping that the cover of darkness would deter any violent acts against us. Our cruiser was behind us in case we needed her big gun, and our gun mounts were all manned. We made it back to the Med without incident. Made a last stop in Suda Bay, and headed back towards home.

November 9, 2001-
We had Good Morning America come out and visit us as we approached the US Coast. We were the first combat unit to return home after 9/11. It felt good to be so honored. America was cheering us on.

November 10, 2001-
We get our first sight of Virgina, and what a sight it was. We were greeted as heroes. Tugboats and firefighting boats greeted us with sprays of water from the deck nozzles and smaller boats came up with flags waving to see us in to the harbor. I volunteered to man the rails, so in my dress blues, a stood along the edge of the flight deck and the tugs pushed us into the berth. There were thousands and thousands of screaming people on the pier, all wanting to greet us and celebrate our return. We were heroes to these people. It was good to be home.

If you want a retrospective look back, please check out my post on looking back 6-years later.