15 January, we awoke to find ourselves in the middle of a nasty storm. The ceiling was about 200 feet and waves were cresting at about 15 to 20 feet. Strikes were canceled, but JACK patrols around the Task Force were to be flown. In addition, a CAP was needed over the Picket Destroyer. The Destroyer CAP was assigned to one of the charter members of VF-81. Because his wingman was ill, I was chosen to fill in. Up on deck we were taxied into the catapult gear, to be shot off into the murky soup. I waited for my leader to be catapulted, but all of a sudden I received the signal to power up for launch. I was launched and circled around the carrier at about 100 feet waiting for my lead to be catapulted. Finally a call on the radio indicated that his plane had developed engine trouble, and would have to be replaced. I was to circle until my lead could join me.

A short time later, I received a call indicating that he would not be joining me, and that I should fly to the Picket myself, and another pilot would join me later at the Picket. Well I wasn't too happy over the prospects, but in obedience to orders I set out. The overcast seemed to be lowering, and as I proceeded at about 80 feet above the waves, I had to fly on instruments because the downpour was so intense and the visibility so poor that I couldn't tell where the sea ended and the overcast began. It was an eerie feeling, and I felt certain that if I returned from this mission, I would be mighty lucky. A few minutes out, I received a call from the carrier informing me that weather conditions were worsening, and I should return to base. I made a 180 degree turn, and since I was too low to receive the Z.B.-YE, I asked the carrier for a bearing to fly. After several grueling minutes, the carrier loomed dead ahead, almost invisible in the storm.

They had turned into the wind to land the local JACK patrols. I was asked to circle the carrier until they were landed. Another few minutes and I was cleared to land. As I made my way from the plane to the interior of the island superstructure, the Air Officer, a Commander C. J. Lennahan grabbed me and in a very gruff voice asked me what the Hell I was doing back instead of being at the Picket. I tried to tell him that I had been ordered to return by the Air Group Commander (CAG), but he wouldn't listen. All he could do was rave on, and threaten me with a Court Martial. He said I had failed to do my duty, and the Picket had been attacked. Finally I prevailed upon him to go with me to CAG. Once there, the problem was cleared up. The Picket hadn't been attacked, but was in the thick of the storm, as we were. The Captain of the ship had directed CAG to order all planes back aboard, to prevent operational losses.

Commander Lennahan was a good example of the few irrational officers one encounters in the service. Years later I had an opportunity to settle the score.