Riding Rockets - Mike Mullane [123]
Diane and Donna were just as thrilled as Mike and I. It was their payday for a lifetime of sacrifice for their man’s career, for the terror of the T-9 minute walk to the LCC roof. They would be recognized and toasted for their contributions and bravery. They wore new dresses and shoes and had perfect hair and makeup. I hadn’t seen Donna look more radiant and more expectant since she had walked down the aisle in her wedding gown. She loved the pomp and circumstance of formal military events, as our astronaut wing pinnings promised to be.
Our first visit was to the chief of naval operations for Mike’s ceremony. As we approached the CNO’s office we were greeted by the CNO himself, Admiral James D. Watkins, beaming with almost fatherly pride and stepping forward to heartily shake Mike’s hand and hug Diane. Behind him waited a gauntlet of lesser admirals. They were dressed in whites, their epaulets dripping in gold braid, their chests festooned with ribbons and gold wings. It was as if every flag officer in the U.S. Navy had come to congratulate Mike. Each of them smiled broadly and rendered Mike and Diane a deference becoming royalty. Donna and I and the rest of the NASA entourage greeted the CNO and then melted to the sides of the room to let the spotlight focus on Mike and Diane. We’d have our fifteen minutes of fame in a moment.
While waiting I looked at the CNO’s wall art. There were gold-gilded paintings of Old Ironsides firing a broadside into an enemy ship, of dogfighting Japanese Zeros and Corsairs, of battleships pounding an enemy atoll. The art complemented the statement the CNO was making with the party, that the U.S. Navy was a service of unmatched history and glory, and new astronaut Mike Coats was the latest addition to that history.
White-gloved stewards orbited the gathering and served finger sandwiches and pastries from silver platters. I looked at Donna. She was in heaven. This was pomp and circumstance beyond anything she had expected and she knew she was up next.
The CNO began the pinning ceremony with comments on the importance of space to U.S. Navy operations. He highlighted the fact that one of our STS-41D communication satellites was a navy fleet UHF relay. He thanked Mike for laying his life on the line for the navy and thanked Diane for her years of wifely support. He then invited Diane to do the astronaut wing-pinning. In word and deed he made her feel that Mike’s new wings were as much her award as they were his. The CNO then led his throng of admirals in loud applause. The entire program had been first-class from start to finish.
We all bid our thanks and departed for the office of the vice chief of staff of the air force, General Larry D. Welch. For some reason the chief himself was unavailable but we didn’t care; we were certain the number-two man in the U.S. Air Force would take good care of us. Donna was biting at the bit to get there. The gleam in her eye said it all. She was anticipating the identical “Queen for a Day” treatment she had just seen rendered to Diane. So were we all.
Our first indication that things were to be a little different on the air force side of the Pentagon occurred as we neared the office. No generals awaited us. Instead, a lowly captain rose from his desk, welcomed us, and then said, “Please wait here. I’ll see if the general can see you.” I felt Donna tense at my side. If there was any pomp and circumstance around, it was well hidden. I whispered, “Maybe the party is set up in a different room.”
She replied tersely, “I hope so.” I was beginning to have a very bad feeling.
The captain emerged from the vice chief’s office. “The general is now ready to see you.”
Jesus,I thought,this has more the air of a court-martial than an awards celebration. I could hear Donna’s molars grinding in her rising anger. The rest of our entourage exchanged wondering looks. The contrast to the manner of welcome given Mike and Diane at the CNO’s office could not have been greater.
Our group entered the vice chief’s office