Fleet Plan of the Day

It was just over 48 years ago, probably early June 1977, and I was sitting at a long table down the middle of a barracks in Camp Nimitz at San Diego RTC, doodling on a scrap of paper my admittedly primitive idea for a flag worthy of Company 126. Dozens of other recruits gathered around, some with more artistic talent than myself, fortunately, that would take that seed of an idea and turn it into reality.

We spent a couple of months marching under that flag, and doing some serious behind-kicking in the many competitions that kept boot camp interesting. Everywhere we went, that flag led the way and anchored us to our fragile identity as a cohesive unit labeled simply 77-126.

Then we were gone. Off to our first schools and duty stations, some for storied careers, and others just using the Navy as a stepping stone to other adventures. I’m sure our company commanders AO1 Gilbert and QM1 Whalen didn’t waste any time grieving over our parting, but Sam Gilbert managed to hang onto the 126 guidon, perhaps because there was nothing better to do with it, and it seemed important enough to hang on to it.

Hang on to it he did. 

Forty-six years later, having left the Navy behind after eight years, qualifying submarines, being selected for Chief, and wanting to see other parts of the world, I found myself the capturing the history of Cold War submarines at coldwarboats.org. 

My love for history grew, and as I found ways to reconnect with those I served with back in the early eighties, it became important to me to locate, contact, and say thanks to those who challenged me to grow and learn. As you might imagine, among COs, XOs, COBs and Chiefs that help form me, one of those who made that investment was the Company Commander of 77-126, AO1 Gilbert.

About two years ago, I spent some time tracking down Sam, and rather quickly found him, alive and kicking, in northern Wyoming, where he grew up. A few Messenger chats, a couple of phone calls, and we picked up where we left off, 46 years ago, as all shipmates seem to be able to do.

Describing what it felt like to know he remembered me, for better or worse, and to hear his genuine emotion in responding to my gratitude for pushing me hard during those painful months, is beyond my skill with words, and all I can say is, you’ve got to do it yourself. 

In those conversations, Sam, now in his late 80’s, revealed that he had maintained custody of all the flags for the companies he pushed at RTC San Diego, including the one I had helped create, back in the day. Preparing for the inevitable, he offered to transfer custody of the flag to me, since I was the only member of any recruit company to track him down and say thanks.

So we did. A trip to Wyoming from Michigan was arranged, and then cancelled. A year later, 2025, we arranged it again, and this time successfully. On June 10^th of this year, Sam and I were reunited in his Wyoming hometown, along with our wives and spent an incredible evening catching up, swapping stories, and yes, transferring custody of the colors of 126.

These photos, Sam on the left, and me on the right, holding those banners, fail to capture the emotions of that day. Promises were made to cross paths again, even though time and tide wait for no man, and all our days are short. 

There is nothing like the feeling of making new friends out of old, well, old men. I would recommend it for everyone. If you haven’t tracked down your Company Commander, your CO’s and Chiefs, even those shipmates that helped shape you into the person you have become, you need to make the effort.

The only disappointment you will find will be in being too late.

There is not a moment to lose…