![]() At age 25, I was a lieutenant junior grade and the youngest executive officer in the Navy's 7th Fleet while operating off the coast of then-South Vietnam. We had just finished an eight-month deployment in the Western Pacific, and I served as the executive officer, navigator and diving officer on my ship. That's the way it was in 1970. No one expected anything different. Other than the port personnel who came aboard to hook up fresh water and electrical services, that was it. We were home. There was no welcoming group or ceremony. We simply were thrilled to be home. Within minutes after securing the sea and anchor detail, half the crew went on liberty. Fifty years ago this week, I returned home from Vietnam. My ship, the USS Sioux-ATF 75, glided into port on a chilly, foggy San Diego evening around 6 p.m. As we came along our berthing space and prepared to tie up dockside, there was a handful of wives and girlfriends waiting for us on the pier.
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