The Times when There are no Signs

The Times when There are no Signs

Bang! A single shot rang out, the body would not be found until the morning as his roommates were still at a movie or dinner. It was only the sound of the pistol falling from his hand making a dull thud that drew any attention. This is how I lost my friend EM2 Chris on the twenty eighth of November 2007. We were still deployed and would not be returning to port for a few more days. Our watch section, his watch section, were the last ones to find out on the ship, talk about some bullshit, he was our brother and friend! He was our sections throttleman, we had spent at least twelve hours a day for the last two and a half months with him, we ate every meal together. He was a very outgoing person, so we all knew his life story almost as well as we knew our own story. He was always in a cheerful mood and made as many jokes as possible often at inappropriate times but that was just him. How did he get to this point? Let's start near the beginning.

In the shipyard, twelve-to-fourteen-hour workdays were not uncommon and with the seven-day work weeks any free time was precious. This is where I first met Chris. I was assigned to the section he was in, so during shift work we were on the same shift. The most memorable quote that came out of this period was our Commanding Officer (CO or Captain), "You are all tools in a toolbox, if I break one of you, they will send me another one." After I got qualified Shutdown Electrical Operator (SEO, Person in-port who monitors and operates the ship's electric plant), I was paired up with Chris as the Shutdown Reactor Operator (SRO, Person in-port who monitors and operates the shutdown reactor plant). It is normal practice to pair up Electronics Technicians (ET) and Electricians Mates (EM) so we can provide each other backup on plant operations. On one of the rare days off I helped his roommate, Brad the man who would become the Leading Petty Officer (LPO) for the ETs after the crew split when the ship left the shipyard, move into a new house. Chris had already moved his stuff out of the house and into his apartment with a Machinist Mate (MM) that was scheduled to be on the opposite crew, so no matter which crew had the boat someone would be there to keep an eye on things. Ballistic missile submarines have two crews that allow the ship to meet its operational needs without destroying the crew. In an ideal world the ship would be out to sea everyday of the year; the ship's mission is to provide a mobile platform for launching ballistic missiles. The crew split occurred about the last week we were in the shipyard.

After all the maintenance was completed in the shipyard, the ship left for sea-trials; the sea-trials went about as well as the crew was expecting and much worse than the shipyard upper management was expecting. We were allowed to leave and complete repairs pier-side at Delta Pier in Bangor, Washington. In-port periods are always a bit rough on the crew as there is never enough time to get everything done that needs to be done and do it properly. After leaving port and more testing, both crews got certified to complete the ship's mission and the normal patrol cycle started, three months out to sea followed by three weeks of in-port time for repairs and crew swap. Most in-port periods are uneventful, the one prior to his last underway was not one of those times. While operating the shutdown plant to stay in the operating temperature band, a substation breaker on the base exploded resulting in the loss of power for half of the base, which was caused by the electrical transient from starting fast speed pumps, our normal method of heating up the plant in-port. Our CO did not like Chris because he was as a smart-ass. He took the full blame and punishment for that, as the pumps starting caused the electrical transient that caused the breaker to fail. There was no mention of the fact that it was discovered that the wrong breaker was installed which is why it failed.

The deployment after that in-port period was standard and uneventful, until the last week. The EM LPO was in maneuvering, the operational control area of the reactor plant and electric plant, briefing some maintenance item that his division was going to be doing. Chris was cleaning under his fingernails with his pocketknife making smart comments during the briefing, as was typical. On his way out of maneuvering the EM LPO did something to cause Chris to jump and throw his hand back in reflex to swat something away. This resulted in Chris inadvertently stabbing him in the leg. After the story got out that Chris had stabbed his LPO a captain's mast (non-judicial punishment where the CO acts as the judge and jury) was quick to follow, his punishment was a reduction in rank and kicked out of the submarine service. We were scheduled for one last small replenishment in Pearl Harbor, HI before returning to Bangor, WA, this is where he was forced to leave the ship. He packed up his things and had them waiting by the ladder that was to be used to exit the ship. While he waited to leave, he decided to come back to the engine room for a quick chat to kill time and distract him from the events that had transpired.

We discussed several things during that conversation, including what movies we were planning on seeing once everyone was back, such as "I am Legend" and "Hitman" if it was still in theaters. He was into Dungeons and Dragons and thought everyone should play at least once so we set a time to play once everyone was back in port. We discussed plans for Christmas and New Year's; he was planning on visiting his mom. We made all these plans under the assumption that it would take a bit before they moved him to a surface ship. After a little more small talk it was time for him to leave the ship, little did I know that was the last time I would see him. We said our goodbyes and he went up the ladder without talking to anyone else. He had a quick plane ride back to Bangor, WA.

We were between Pearl Harbor and Bangor when the ship received the message about his suicide. Our section was on watch and there was engineering department training going on for the off-watch sections, at the end of the training the command told the other two sections about his suicide. They were instructed, "Do not speak a word of this to the on-watch section, so we can break the news to them." After they gave them about twenty minutes to deal with it, they picked certain ones to come back and relieve the on-watch section. As soon as our section was gathered, they told us about his death, and told us to get back on watch and training was happening after watch.

We pulled back into port a couple of days later and turned over the ship to the other crew. The command filed the paperwork to have his official rank reduced so on his gravestone it has EM3, instead of the EM2 that we all knew him as. All bodies must be embalmed before they can cross state lines, and this takes time, so by the time he was ready to be transported to his burial location the crew turnover of the ship had occurred. The funeral and burial arrangements were made, and it was Brad who was selected to escort his body to its final resting place, Fort Sill National Cemetery. I picked up Brad and his fiancand we drove to the funeral home where others said they were going to meet us. The time came for us to escort him to the airport; no one else had showed up so his escort was just a single car. It was raining that night, Brad was in his Dress Blues riding in the front seat with me driving, his fiancwas in the middle row of seats in my car. We escorted Chris to the airport to the restricted section, Brad was required to watch Chris get loaded and unloaded from all vehicles he was transported in. After Brad watched them load the casket on the plane, I took him and his fiancto the check-in area. A few of the EMs got to take leave to attend the funeral.

I did not attend the funeral; I received a different shitty fate. The next day the ones who attended the funeral got to watch Chirs' mother and ex-wife almost get into a fist fight about who would get his life insurance money. Those of us who didn't attend the funeral got to be questioned by Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) the day after we had escorted Chris to the airport. Most of the interviews lasted five to ten minutes, mine lasted between a half hour and an hour. I lost count of how many times they asked me if I knew that he was going to kill himself. I had to recount the conversation we had before he left the ship at least twice. Being accused repeatedly of having knowledge and for the action of someone who recently committed suicide takes a toll on a person's psyche. NCIS told me that they went through his computer and that he had looked up and called his ex-wife a couple of times before he went through with it. I had no idea that he had been married previously; he never told me.

Even though you can spend enough time with someone to hear their life story three or four times, it does not mean that they will tell you everything. A person will only tell you what they want to; it is our job as listeners to hear the unheard things. Not every suicide is broadcast like the "experts" will have you believe, sometimes people just get in a dark place that there appears to be no hope of exiting, or a feeling of loneliness that seems inescapable. The signs do not always exist. Remember we are all human beings, designed by our creator in His image, and to that end we all need to lookout for each other and support one another as best we can.