The third and fourth missions, for which the
The last mission, that of sea presence, came to Gorshkov via Teddy Roosevelt, who’d promised to “speak softly and carry a big stick.” The idea, according to the admiral, was to send his ships—warships and merchant ships alike—to any nation that would have them. During their visits, which generally coincided with some significant military event or holiday, the navy crews would be sent ashore to organize sporting or musical events. Sometimes their officers would be sent on missions to visit with local dignitaries and their families. In Admiral Gorshkov’s own words:
Friendly visits by Soviet seamen offer the opportunity to the people of the countries visited to see for themselves the creativity of the socialist principles in our country, the genuine parity of the people of the Soviet Union and their high cultural level. In our ships they see the achievements of Soviet science, technology and industry. Soviet mariners, from rating to admiral, bring to the people of other countries the truth about our socialist country, our Soviet ideology and culture, and our Soviet way of life.
The admiral, it seemed, bought the Soviet dogma, hook, line, and sinker.
11. TO THE MIDSHIPMEN’S DINING ROOM
Even the finest, most technologically advanced warship, equipped with the most sophisticated deadly weapons systems known to man, is nothing more than a well-crafted hunk of metal, plastic, glass, and rubber without a crew. Soviet officers are just about the same as the officers in any other modern navy. They’re volunteers and pretty well motivated to do their best. Gindin is typical of this class of sailor; he worked very hard to get himself qualified to be selected for a naval academy. And when he got to school he worked ten times as hard to make the grade. For a lot of guys like Gindin, failure is never an option. It’s a mind-set that is about to be severely tested this early evening of November 8.
Once a Soviet officer candidate qualifies for training at a specific school he is sent to either a technical institute, like Gindin’s St. Petersburg Military Engineering Academy, or a surface warfare school, such as Potulniy and Sablin’s Frunze Academy, the most famous of them all in the Soviet Union, very much akin to Annapolis in the United States. As soon as the officer candidate finishes his primary training he’s sent out into the fleet to stand watches and learn the responsibilities of his division. That’s four hours on, four hours of standby, and four hours off, twice in each twenty-four-hour period. But it’s not that easy. Besides learning how to do his own job, the young officer must be a shepherd to his enlisted crew 24/7. That means teaching them the technicalities of each of their jobs and their shipboard responsibilities and duties, such as calisthenics every morning, and giving them their ideological training—the Party doctrine.
On the one hand, if an officer wants to rise to a command position, such as the captain of his own ship, he must master every aspect of every vessel he serves on, learning one or more new jobs each time he goes out on rotation. At the end, when he is finally picked to run his own ship, he first has to serve as an executive officer,