John Nicholson
Grey Eagle
Published in June 2012 issue of "Journal Plus: The Magazine of the Central Coast"
Last
night I announced to the American people that the North Vietnamese regime had
conducted further deliberate attacks against U.S. naval vessels operating in
international waters, and therefore directed air action against gunboats and
supporting facilities used in these hostile operations. This air action has now
been carried out with substantial damage to the boats and facilities. Two U.S.
aircraft were lost in the action. President Johnson’s
Message to Congress, August 5, 1964
Until
his A-4 Skylark actually left the flight deck of the USS Constellation, Navy
fighter pilot John Nicholson thought it was another drill. He and fellow crew members were on deck
watching a “B” movie, “The Night Has a Thousand Eyes,” when he was ordered to
find two other pilots, change to flight gear and report to the flight deck.
Their mission was to provide air cover for two American destroyers under attack
in the Gulf of Tonkin, off the coast of Vietnam. It’s not in the history books, but San Luis
Obispo resident John Nicholson was the first Navy pilot in the air on the night
of the Gulf of Tonkin Incident, the official start of America’s war against
North Vietnam.
The
next day, following direct orders from President Johnson, American planes
attacked North Vietnam. In what turned
out to be a critically important day for Nicholson, his wingman and friend,
Everett Alvarez, nicknamed Alvy by the other pilots, was shot down and became
the first American prisoner of war. John
would not see Alverez again for eight-and-a-half years.
Nicholson
was born in 1930 in Bombay, India, where his father worked for the Goodyear
tire and rubber company. He lived there until 1936 when the family moved to
South Africa. Worried that he was “going native,” John’s parents shipped him
back to the US in 1945. He arrived in New York on the day an Army B-25 bomber
smashed into the Empire State Building. It wouldn’t be the last time John’s
major life events coincided with famous historical moments.
John
finished high school in Ohio and attended Oberlin College where he studied
engineering and met his wife of sixty years, Evie, who studied classical piano
in Oberlin’s famous music program. Evie
still entertains family and friends with expert performances of Beethoven and
other famous composers. They had four daughters between 1954 and 1959: Paula,
twins Jacqueline and Jennifer, and Eve.
John and Evie have nine grandchildren and six great grandchildren. They were all smiles when talking about their
large and close family.
Following
his retirement from the Navy in 1976, John taught high school for eighteen
years in Sanger, California, and served as Superintendent for the Sanger School
District for one year. He helped many students gain admission to the United
States Naval Academy, and today they call him to say that the legacy continues:
now their children are attending the Academy.
John
joined the Navy because he had an interest in flying but also because he saw
that men he admired had fought in two wars, WWII and Korea, and he wanted to do
his patriotic duty. Also, his father had
been General Douglas MacArthur’s chauffeur during WWI. John committed his
allegiance to honoring the chain of command, and even though he had no ROTC or
Naval Academy background, he advanced to the rank of Captain, and in 1973
became the Commander-in-Chief of the aircraft carrier, USS Ranger, on which he
had served as a combat pilot in 1969. Not surprisingly, John Nicholson loves a
challenge, a word that to him is synonymous with fun. But not all challenges
are fun, especially when the life of a friend is at stake.
As
Nicholson approached the Vietnam coastline on August 5th, he remembers looking at the mountains near the
Chinese border and thinking they looked just like the calendars hanging in his
childhood home: dark green, mist shrouded, mysterious. When his target was abruptly changed from
Wallu, near the Chinese border, to the docks of Hon Gai, he focused on his
mission.
He
saw flak after a successful bombing run in the harbor, and then he heard a “may
day” call from his friend Alvy, who was hit and had to eject. Low on fuel,
Nicholson came around once to check on his friend, but then headed back to the
carrier. His last words to Alvy were “You know what to do.” For the next
eight-and-a-half years, Nicholson was focused and motivated by his friend’s
capture. “That was my challenge. It might not have been fun, but as long as he
was a POW, I was not going to quit anything.”
Deployed
in the Vietnam conflict until 1973, Nicholson flew over 100 combat missions,
the most memorable a mission that never happened. It was April 1, 1968, and he
was scheduled to attack Hanoi. He was
extra keyed up because he had the premonition that he wouldn’t return, as
strong a feeling as he’d ever had in his life. At the last moment a voice
announced over the intercom that the mission had been cancelled, followed
shortly by “April Fools!” Nicholson came unglued, and he didn’t settle down
until the perpetrator of the joke apologized and made it clear that the mission
really had been cancelled. Once again, Nichoson’s life intersected with
history: President Johnson had just announced that he would not seek reelection
and military operations were suspended that day.
Following
the Paris Peace Accords in 1973, 591 American POW’s were released during
Operation Homecoming. John Nicholson was at Hickam Air Force Base in Honolulu
when Alvy Alverez’s plane landed, en route to the US. It was 3:00 AM and at
first John was told he would not be able to see his friend until after a long
debriefing, but he persuaded the security personnel to give him thirty minutes
alone with Alvy. When he saw Alvarez approach, he went to give him a bear hug,
but Alvy flinched. “He was nothing but skin and bones,” said Nicholson. “He had
suffered horribly during all those years at the Hanoi Hilton.”
After
both had recovered from the shock, the first thing Alvarez said was “What did
you mean by ‘You know what to do?’ I’ve been thinking about that since 1964.”
After that they talked nonstop until it was time for Alvy to go. Still friends after all these years, they see
each other periodically. Divorced by his first wife while held captive, Alvy
married the stewardess he met on the flight from Hawaii to the United States.
Nicholson’s comment? “You don’t waste any time, do you Alvy.” You can imagine his
response.
While
commanding the USS Ranger early in 1976, an admiral insisted that Nicholson
hold a flight drill during heavy weather.
John argued, but the admiral ordered him to put planes in the air. Certain
that planes would crash and lives would be lost, Captain Nicholson asked the
ship’s chaplain to join him in the command center overlooking the deck and pray
for the pilots. As predicted, an approaching jet hit the fantail of the
carrier. Miraculously, the cockpit detached and started skidding across the flight
deck, prompting the startled chaplain to pronounce, “Lordy, Lordy!” The pilots
ejected before hitting the tower. One landed on the deck and received minor
injuries, while the other landed in the ocean and was recovered unhurt by a
destroyer.
The
challenge was no longer fun for John Nicholson. Even though promotion to
admiral was possible, he announced his resignation from the Navy, but, true to
his character, he commanded the Ranger until the completion of its mission in
September.
Most
of us observe history from a distance. John Nicholson, also known as Grey Eagle
when he was flying, made history. To learn more about this remarkable man,
visit his website at http://www.greyeagle1.com/Navy/Logbook.html.
