THE OLD OAK TREE
By Richard
Nickelson
© 2005 Richard G. Nickelson
As I made my way into the Teams I was
awe-struck when I first met and talked to the men who had spent many long years
in the Teams before I arrived. These men were the lifers or old timers as they
were more affectionately referred to and they had been where the action was and
therefore possessed all of the answers. These were also the men who
wouldn’t have given us the time of day only a month earlier and now they
were there to answer questions and indoctrinate us in all matters related to
the Teams. By graduating from BUDS Training we had earned their acceptance but
we still had much to learn and they would be the ones who would teach us.
One of the finest men that I met when I
crossed the road that separated BUDS Training from the Team Compound was Bill
Corey, a Chief Petty Officer. Bill was second in command of the Platoon to
which I was assigned and he was an old salt. By “old salt” I mean
that he was a lifer, a career Navy man, a man who had been in the Navy for a
long time and had seen it all. Bill was a Chief Boatswains Mate and if you are
unfamiliar with the Navy’s system of rating and ranking enlisted
personnel, the Chief Boatswains Mate is at the top of the food chain for
enlisted personnel. Also, to reach the rank of Chief Boatswains Mate, one has
most assuredly done so by fighting his way from the rank of a lowly seaman, the
junior rank of Navy enlisted personnel, to this coveted position. In addition,
the Chief Boatswains Mate must know every aspect of shipboard life as well as
how to run a ship. Basically, he knows where every bone is buried. The Chief Boatswains Mate knows how to
read and work enlisted personnel, even the most incorrigible, and is the one
enlisted man aboard ship most trusted by the Captain. Although we were in the
Teams, not aboard ship, this trust between the Team Captain and his Chief
Boatswains Mate was still firmly entrenched.
More than any other man in Teams, I
enjoyed every minute I spent with Chief Corey. He was a teacher par-excellence
and was always there when called upon. He was not a man who took trust lightly
and in order to be accepted by Chief Corey you had to earn his trust and that
came at the price of hard work, honesty, and giving one hundred percent to
every task, assignment, or operation you were entrusted to carry out. Bill was
pure Navy and that was born out one day when he told me that the Navy was first
and foremost in his life and came even before his family.
Chief Corey, as well as other senior
enlisted men we were to learn from, taught from experience. The many lessons
these men had learned, the hard way, would be passed on to us, the new
arrivals. This would be no easy matter because, of the thirty-five enlisted men
who graduated from BUDS Class-28, twenty-two had been assigned to training
straight out of boot camp and therefore had no prior Naval experience. Although
young and inexperienced, these men shared one thing in common, an eagerness to
learn from the best and learn they would.
The importance of learning from those
who had gone before and paid their dues was emphasized in a sign that was
permanently posted in the
The lessons we were to learn not only
came from hands-on experience but from stories. I truly enjoyed listening to
Chief Corey and other senior Team members reminisce about past experiences and
operations they had undertaken during the years before we arrived. For me, it
was a wonderful learning experience. It is true that I had read about some of
the operations attributed to Naval Special Warfare but prior to the early
sixties there were few books that adequately documented the exploits of the
Teams. Therefore, from the stories told to us we would learn as surely as we
would learn from those lessons taught during actual operations. There was an
incident that had occurred several years before my arrival and though it is not
one that conjures up positive mental pictures of Team bravado, it was
nonetheless an interesting story.
In training as well as in the Teams we
learned the intricacies of numerous types of explosives and experimented with
various ways of removing obstacles both in the water and on land. Each member
of the
Ron, who had recently moved into his
home, sat in the front yard watching with interest when he heard the sound of a
small explosion. He looked more closely and after the dust had settled Ron
could see his neighbor slide into a hole, he had dug around the base of the
tree stump, then scramble out and run a short distance and crouch down behind
his pick-up truck. Several minutes passed and another small explosion occurred
and this piqued even further Ron’s interest. After two more explosions
Ron realized he just had to get involved. If nothing else, he should at least
go over, introduce himself, and offer his expertise.
Ron arrived shortly after another small
explosion and made his introduction. He found that the neighbor had been trying
to blast through the root system of the tree using quarter sticks of dynamite.
This was to be a laborious process and Ron could see very little, if any,
headway being made toward removing the stump when he entered the hole to take a
peek. The two men set talking and
getting to know one another when Ron dropped the bomb, excuse the pun, on his
neighbor. He explained that he was a member of the Underwater Demolition Teams
and an expert in the fine art of explosives. Ron went on to tell his new friend
and neighbor that what he had been doing was all-wrong and that he would
therefore be only too happy to offer his services, that is if his neighbor so
desired. Ron’s neighbor was only too willing to accept the help, of one
trained in explosives, and asked what needed to be done. Mind you, Ron’s
neighbor had removed tree stumps before, using explosives, but it had always
taken a good deal of time because he was very cautious and only used explosives
in small amounts. He was however, open for suggestions.
With that Ron asked how much dynamite
remained and was pleased to hear that there was nearly half of a box, or roughly
thirty sticks at his disposal. Ron explained that he would rig the explosives,
by running a trunk line, so all of the dynamite could be detonated at one time.
The neighbor was somewhat reticent but Ron assured him that he knew what he was
doing and that he should just relax and enjoy the moment. Just to be safe, and
to further put his neighbors mind at ease, Ron said he would return to his home
and bring back a heavy-duty tarp that could be put over the stump. This would
contain any dirt and gravel that might otherwise be blown into the air. It took
a little more persuading before the neighbor finally agreed and only then after
Ron had recalled some of the major operations, involving explosives, that he
had been assigned to while in the Teams. With the neighbor now feeling a little
less apprehensive Ron returned home to pick up the tarp.
It wasn’t long before Ron
returned and started setting the explosives that would take care of this simple
matter. The neighbor stood by anxiously watching as Ron attached all of the
dynamite to the trunk line then exited the hole. Both men then stretched the
tarp over the tree stump and staked it to the ground. Ron was now ready to
light the fuse and as the neighbor retreated to a shed, a short distance from
where his pick-up truck was parked, made a final comment; “I sure hope
you know what you’re doing.”
With that, Ron lit the fuse and ran to where his neighbor waited.
Both men now crouched beside the shed anxiously
waiting for the explosion that would bring to an end this matter of “the
old oak tree.” However, what was about to happen was totally unexpected.
The huge explosion that followed startled Ron and nearly gave his neighbor a
heart attack. There had been more than enough explosives to separate the trunk
from its roots. In fact, when they first looked at the sight where the tree
trunk had been just seconds before, there was nothing but a gaping hole. They looked at each other; then their
attention was quickly diverted skyward. To their surprise the huge tree trunk,
which took on the appearance of an incoming missile, was now descending rapidly
from the sky, still wrapped securely in Ron’s heavy-duty tarp. Next came
a loud crushing sound as the tree trunk landed square on top of the pick-up
truck, shattering the windows and smashing the truck as flat as a tortilla.
Everything was deadly silent for the next several seconds as both men crouched
there staring in disbelief at the aftermath of what had just happened. Then,
Ron stood up, brushed himself off and said something to the effect; “you
don’t have to thank me, you can keep the tarp, and isn’t that my
wife I hear calling me home for dinner.” With that Ron could be seen
running down the road toward his house and the story ended. I never was to hear
what happened to the short-lived friendship, formed that day, between Ron and
his neighbor. It was however an interesting story and one I enjoyed, have
laughed about on numerous occasions, and have never forgotten.
Though this is not an example of the
type of story that contains a life-enriching lesson, there would be other
stories that would serve us well. From these other stories we would learn the
intended lesson, a lesson that could possible save our lives as well as the
lives of fellow Teammates. The one thing I do know; not all knowledge can be
gained through first hand experience, much has to be acquired by means of a
story.