There was no visible difference about the ship when we put down aboard Rochester.  Yet there seemed to be something special in the atmosphere.  Corpsmen were at hand to escort Laney to sick bay.  Ensign Hollis came along side during shutdown and said, "I'm sure glad it was your turn to fly, chief.  I don't think I could have handled this."

Well, neither could I have done so when I was no more experienced than he.  After thanking him for the commendation, I asked about Crawford's condition.  "He's fine--real fine," Hollis said.  "But they're keeping him down in sick bay 'til the doctor gets back, and he says he'd sure like to see you as soon as you have time.  You guys did one helluva job..."

The afterdeck "talker" interrupted with a phone call for me from the Exec.  After expressing personal commendations for the rescue itself, Copeland said, "I think your crew set a new launch record for this one -- two minutes and fifteen seconds."

He then started to express something for me to pass on to the crew.  I interrupted:  "Our O-in-C is pretty proud of us, too, Commander.  He's here talking with the men....."

As was expected, Copeland sensed my purpose at once.  "Oh----Mr. Hollis is there? Put him on the phone, would you please?"

After speaking with Copeland on the phone, Hollis assembled the men around himself to relay to them whatever the Exec had said.

A sharply contrasting picture flashed in memory:  Only four months earlier that same ensign and cluster of sailors were assembled near the loading ramp of a chartered aircraft at Travis Air Force Base, while I used the gold hashmarks of my dress blue uniform to break into the lineup of Army officers and latch onto a block of seats for all of us aboard that aircraft.

Thorin's crew early in 1952

They all seemed a bit uncertain then.  A shy young ensign, puzzled and perhaps a bit embarrassed for having been designated officer-in-charge of something he didn't feel at all capable of handling.  And a random assortment of sailors, all new to helicopters and some quite as new as the ensign to the Navy.  They'd heard tales of the high-performance and "heroism" of old timers in the helicopter business.  They could not but have been wondering then if they could live up to their squadron's reputation.

Now they knew full well that they could do so.  In the singular hour just passed, their helicopter had performed what some would have regarded an impossible rescue, plus a "routine" one; despite an unusual sequence of handicaps and complicating factors.  And every one of them knew he had himself played a significant part.  They had not merely lived up to their squadron's reputation, they had added substantially to it.

So they had passed one test with flying colors.  Probably they did not realize that another test of sorts was about to begin.  How would they handle the new "glory" they now were sharing, when the flood-tide of congratulations began pouring on them from around the ship and later on from back home.

For several reasons, I was confident they could handle it well.  For one thing, because it hadn't happened early in the cruise.  They were not a group apart here aboard Rochester.  They were "shipmates" now with the Rochester men, even though they were not technically "ship's company".  So a good share of the congratulations they would get aboard the Rochester would be of the off-handed , or even back-handed, variety.  "So you did something great today -- from you we wouldn't expect anything less!"

Because of the squadron's overall reputation, they would recognize that today's action simply qualified them as full-fledged members of a very distinguished group.  But probably the main reason this bit of glory wasn't likely to go to their heads was because it wasn't "easy" glory.  There's an old saying, probably from the cavalry days: "When you've really earned your spurs, you will wear them well."  These men had worked hard to bring themselves to the level of proficiency which had been vital to the rescue of Abbott.  Because it was so well-earned, their bit of glory would be self-satisfying and therefore, never need be boasted of.

Such were the thoughts generated by the sight of the men receiving, through Hollis, an immediate "well done" from Rochester's command.  So engrossed were they now with Hollis as to be virtually unaware of my presence just a few yards away.  That was a most pleasing development.  For though they had always been respectful of Hollis, and admiring of his candor about his own inexperience, they were fully aware of his general dependence on me.  Jokingly, they would sometimes say theirs was the only detachment with a "Chief-in-Charge" instead of an "Officer-in-Charge".  Now they had a measure of both.  They weren't listening and talking with Hollis because they had to.  They were sharing with him the good feeling of real achievement.

"Cripes!" I thought amusedly to myself.  "I'm an orphan!  I'm an outcast!  They're so wrapped up in conversation with their O-in-C that they're ignoring their 'C-in-C'.  But of course, all I did was fly the damn' helicopter.  They're the ones who put us in the air in time."

It was a perfect time to slip quietly away and visit Crawford.  Poor fellow--down in sick bay -- all alone......