Veteran clears conscience decades after
 youthful prank

(from Stars and Stripes May 22, 2000)

BY RICK CHERNITZER
Stars and Stripes

    Petty Officer 3rd Class John Sloas was in the midst of a "borderline mutiny" during the maiden voyage of the USS Kitty Hawk in 1961 when he made a split-second decision that has haunted him for nearly 40 years.

    While senior officers were being dragged out of their staterooms, and made to endure the rigors of a traditional "shellback" initiation, Sloas had his eye on a prize in the hangar bay.  Taking advantage of the confusion, he sneaked up to a 12-foot model of the ship and stole the small plaque attached to it.

    "It was just something to do.  I've always been kind of a mischievous type of individual," Sloas said.  "It never occurred to me I would have the plaque 39 years later."

    But the next 10 years, as he moved through several tours in the Navy, including two tours off the coast of Vietnam, and another three decades in the civilian world, Sloas carried the weight of his thievery inside him.

    Finally, the guilt was more than he could stand.  After finding the ship's mailing address on its Web site, he mailed the plaque back to its rightful owners in April.

    Master Chief Petty Officer Luis Cruz, Kitty Hawk's command master chief, presented the returned plaque to its current commanding officer, Capt. Matthew Tuohy, during the Kitty Hawk's 39th anniversary celebration.

    Sloas joined the Navy in 1959 at 17.  He was an aviation ordnanceman assigned to Fighter Squadron 124, based in Miramar, Calif., when he embarked aboard the Kitty Hawk for its maiden voyage.

    The Kitty Hawk left Norfolk, Va., in August 1961 for an "around-the-horn" voyage that would take it to many South American ports on its way to its new homeport of San Diego.

    On Sept. 22, the ship crossed the equator.  In a tradition older than the U.S. Navy, the sailors took part in a "crossing-the-line" ceremony, more commonly known as a shellback initiation.  All Navy ships participate in this tradition when they cross the equator.

    "We did things you're not allowed to do in the Navy anymore," Sloas said in a telephone interview from his home in Bakersfield, Calif.  "Back then, it was borderline mutiny.  They were dragging lieutenant commanders out of their staterooms.  Some sailors tied one commander to the hangar deck floor, tore his clothes off and poured mustard and mayonnaise all over him.  He kept shouting, 'You can't do this.'  The sailors were just grinning and said, 'Yeah, we know.'"

    This bit of not-so-clean fun put Sloas in the mood for mischief.  Sailors who had never crossed the line, known as "wogs," usually pulled a few pranks on the "shellbacks," sailors who have endured the initiation before and spearhead the events.  Sloas said taking the plaque was his contribution to the wogs lashing out at the shellbacks.

    After swiping the plaque, Sloas said he worried about being caught, but soon learned he had nothing to fear.  "We never heard anything about the plaque being missing, there was no announcement about it," he recalled.  "But once I had it, I didn't want to get rid of it."

    Despite this blemish in his naval career, Sloas described himself as a "squared-away sailor."

    He said America's increasing involvement in the Vietnam War soured him on staying in the Navy.  By the time he quit in 1969, Sloas had completed two tours in the Gulf of Tonkin.

    "I didn't want another tour of Vietnam."

    A grandfather now, Sloas said he often thought about returning the plaque.  It was only after finding the Web site and corresponding with the crew that he knew it was time to do the right thing.

    "I'm 58 years old.  If I dropped dead tomorrow, there's no telling what would happen to it," he said.  "It only meant something to me and to the Kitty Hawk.  Anyone else might just throw it out."

    But don't look for the skipper to be rushing off to re-affix the wayward plaque to the model anytime soon.  The model went AWOL itself many years ago, destination unknown.