Carrier Nights and Cosmic Skies: My Time Aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln in 1993
In 1993, I served aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN-72), a floating city of steel and steam, slicing through the Pacific off the coast of California. It was a time of grit, camaraderie, and adrenalineâwhen the roar of jet engines and the hum of catapults became the soundtrack of our lives. But amid the chaos of carrier operations, there were moments of quiet awe that still live vividly in my memory. Chief among them: flight ops under the stars, with the Milky Way stretched like a celestial highway above our heads.
â Life on the Lincoln
The Lincoln was more than just a warshipâit was a world unto itself. With over 5,000 sailors and airmen aboard, it buzzed with constant motion. From the hangar deck to the mess hall, from the berthing compartments to the flight deck, every inch of the carrier had a purpose. My days were long, my nights often longer, and sleep was a luxury we learned to ration.
We were conducting carrier qualifications and training exercises off the California coast, prepping squadrons for deployment and sharpening our edge. The Pacific was our proving ground, and the Lincoln was our crucible.
âïž Flight Operations: Controlled Chaos
Flight ops were the heartbeat of the carrier. Launching and recovering aircraft on a moving deck in the middle of the ocean is a ballet of precision and danger. F/A-18 Hornets, S-3 Vikings, EA-6B Prowlersâthey all took their turns roaring down the catapult, afterburners lighting up the night, or catching the arresting wire with a bone-jarring thud.
The flight deck was a place of organized madness. Sailors in color-coded jerseysâyellow for aircraft directors, green for catapult and arresting gear crews, red for ordnance handlersâmoved with practiced urgency. Every launch was a symphony of coordination, every recovery a test of nerves.
And then there were the night ops.
đ Under the Milky Way: Night Flight Magic
Thereâs something surreal about standing on the flight deck at night. The deck lights dimmed, the ocean invisible beneath us, and aboveâan explosion of stars. The Milky Way arched across the sky like a cosmic river, its dense clusters shimmering with ancient light. Out there, far from city glow, the heavens felt close enough to touch.
Jets launched into the darkness, their afterburners painting fiery trails across the sky. The sound was deafening, but the visuals were pure poetry. As they climbed, their silhouettes briefly eclipsed constellations before vanishing into the black.
I remember one night in particular. I was standing near the island, watching a Hornet line up for launch. The pilot gave the thumbs-up, the catapult fired, and the jet surged forwardâits engines igniting a blaze that lit up the deck and cast long shadows behind us. As it disappeared into the void, I looked up and saw Orionâs Belt gleaming above the bow. It was a moment of contrast: raw power below, infinite calm above.
Those nights reminded me that even in the most mechanical, militarized environments, nature still finds a way to humble us.
đïž Between Ops: Brotherhood and Routine
When we werenât launching jets or prepping gear, we found solace in routine. Chow lines, card games, letters from home. The berthing compartments were cramped, but they were ours. We shared stories, swapped jokes, and leaned on each other when the days got long.
There was a rhythm to life aboard the Lincolnâa cadence that only those whoâve served on a carrier truly understand. It was exhausting, exhilarating, and unforgettable.
đ Reflections from the Deck
Looking back, 1993 aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln was a defining chapter in my life. It taught me discipline, resilience, and the value of teamwork. It gave me lifelong friendships and memories etched in jet fuel and starlight.
But more than anything, it gave me perspective. Standing on that deck, watching flight ops unfold beneath the Milky Way, I realized how small we areâand how extraordinary it is to be part of something bigger.
If youâve ever wondered what itâs like to live on a floating airfield, to launch jets into the night while the universe watches silently above, I can tell you this: itâs a mix of chaos and wonder, steel and stars. And it stays with you forever.