Backstory: Remembering the 'Mighty O'

The ship itself has lived quite a life. More than 45,000 men served on the Oriskany - named after a Revolutionary War battle site - between 1950 and 1976. It was among the ships used by President John F. Kennedy as a show of force during the Cuban missile crisis. Later, 12 pilots who flew off the Oriskany, including US Sen. John McCain, became North Vietnamese prisoners of war. The ship has been used as a backdrop for at least two Hollywood movies.

Even though Mr. Labie went on to work aboard two other aircraft carriers, he still feels closest to his Oriskany shipmates. Wednesday, in fact, marked the first time he has participated in any military reunion since he left the service in 1970. He didn't feel like he belonged at the local VFWs, which had more World War II veterans, and after active duty in the Vietnam War, he found it difficult to adjust to the antiwar movement sweeping across Florida State University, where he was attending college.

For one thing, at 25, he was older than most of the other incoming students. And then there was his hair. The neatly-trimmed cut immediately branded him as a participant in what he calls "a hated war."

Eventually, he grew his hair long and tried to fit in, suppressing the feelings that came flooding back Wednesday as he watched the Oriskany slowly sink. "Usually I make jokes about everything, but this was kind of a tear-jerker," says Labie.

Together the men watched the Oriskany succumb to 500 pounds of explosives, slowly listing portside and filling with water before finally throwing its hurricane bow heavenward and sinking below the surface. When it was over, many of the boats, gathered in a ring, sounded their horns in tribute. A moment of silence passed and then there was a bang from the deck of the Necessity. Labie had fired a blank from a miniature cannon.

Beside him, fellow Vietnam veteran Lloyd Quiter openly wept, pulling a boatswain's pipe from his pocket and playing his tribute before saluting the ship one last time. All was quiet.

And then, suddenly, it was as if the entire flotilla breathed a collective sigh of relief. Gone were the fears that the beloved ship would be "made into razor blades," veteran-speak for the Navy's usual method of ship disposal: selling them for scrap metal. Some people hugged, others laughed and began chatting easily again as the charter boats swung away from the scene and tacked a hasty clip back to shore.

"When it finally went down, it was like we didn't have to worry about it not being done anymore," says Williams. "This way, it's still doing service for mankind."

The Oriskany will be opened to scuba divers as early as next week, part of a new program by the Navy to turn abandoned ships into artificial reefs and boost the local tourism. The Oriskany is the largest ship ever sunk for such service. "It was such a beautiful ship - brand-new when we got on it - and we kept it looking as new as we could," says Vargas. "Now it'll be there forever."

Williams hopes his renewed friendship with Vargas endures, too. They're planning to see each other again for the annual Oriskany reunion, held this year in Tunica, Miss., in September. "I really hated to leave him," says Williams. "That's the bad part about seeing someone like that - you know you're going to have to separate again. But you know, 53 years is a lifetime for a lot of people, and here we are - still going."

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