Home, The Deep Blue Sea Leaving home was probably one of my biggest fears of my life. Stepping out of Texas, with only a back pack and the clothes on my back, and going into a whole new world. The United States Navy helps several people become independent to: see the other side of the picture, discover one’s weaknesses, teach how to build up financially and helps many become stronger physically but also emotionally. On the other hand, the Navy also destroyed sailors, soldiers and airmen’s sanity. Deployments not only destroyed my mind set; it destroyed several other people’s and many of their relationships, which most civilians will never understand why or even how. There I was, May 5th, arriving at aircraft carrier the USS Carl Vinson, fresh out of boot camp and I’m amazed at how huge this ship is. “Here’s your rack, Moreno. When you finish putting away your uniforms, Lawson will help you get to the mess decks.” Rack, enclosed bed, three walls, and a curtain for privacy from everyone else’s racks. The spaces between you and the person sleeping across from you was not even the length of your arms spread out. Our first deployment was just to get “Around The Horn”, around South America, because our duty station changed from Norfolk, Virginia, to San Diego, California. Our second deployment was six months long, probably the longest six months I’ve ever experienced. We were on a ship, more a city. It houses about 5,000 sailors. Just imagine the lines for “chow”, showers, computers to email or even the collect phones for those who want to call home. Working from five in the morning to ten at night takes a toll on your body. Most of us though, still consider working out a major priority, at least I know I did. My days consisted of only sleeping about five to six hours which varied depending whether I wanted breakfast or not in the morning. The constant running back and forth from jet to jet, getting blown down by exhaust fumes, or even just the sun beaming on you all day on the flight deck, becomes exhausting and eventually it’s a typical thing to feel drained. No matter how I felt after work, I made myself go run in the gyms they provided, and sometimes you could be waiting for a treadmill for about 10-15 minutes. It was April 5th, 2012, literally a week after my birthday, when I made the highest position in my job. An actual director for plane handling, what we called “Yellow shirts”. Many people would automatically think of me handling a propeller or tires with tools, when I say plane handler, but they would get it wrong. Of course I was “U.I.”, under instruction, for my first day, but it was scary and overwhelming. The directors would signal the pilots, in their jets, of where to go on the flight deck. Lead them into position on the runaway and align them on the track, so they can get sent off. There was so many signals to learn for the different aircraft, but the lower positions I was in before, I learned and remembered most of them. All of the other directors had different ways in how they moved their hands, so of course I tried creating my own. Being as short as I was, there was no way of trying to in the beginning of my first day. It was the moment I directed an F-18 Hornet (Fighter jet) that took my breath away. I signaled to: stop, fold wings, turn down exhaust fumes, and hand off to the next director. It’s not hard to do but when you have higher ranking people trusting you to signal in a 50 million aircraft fast enough so the next one can land in a matter of minutes, it can be overwhelming. The day I was discharged, finished out my contract, I realized how much I was going to miss seeing aircraft after aircraft land with such ease. I never had that much responsibility in my life, until I joined the United States Navy. The constant running from aircraft to aircraft, making sure I got the aircraft on spot at the right time. I just took care of myself and went to school. I had never realized what I was doing in the military until I touched down back in San Antonio. I felt like I was just going back to the regular old Heather, going to school and keeping a job to pay bills. Today, almost a year later, I still feel no sense of true responsibility. Eventually, I’ll gain enough sense to realize I did my time in the military and I served my country well.