Captain relished his role as leader of the Vinson as it launched the U.S. air war
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ABOARD THE USS CARL VINSON — Capt. Richard Wren knows he is one of the most envied men in the Navy.
His good fortune, as he sees it, was to be promoted into "one of the most exciting seats in the entire world" at just the right time.
A career officer, Wren took the Vinson's helm Oct. 6, one day before it launched the first airstrikes in Afghanistan.
"It was awesome. Every day, I got e-mails from other officers saying they were ready to come out and join me, begging me to come out. They absolutely hated me," said Wren, chuckling.
For more than two adrenaline-charged months, Wren spent his waking hours in the captain's chair on the navigation bridge, watching as his ship unleashed a firestorm on Taliban and al-Qaida forces.
At 45, Wren is not only one of the youngest commanding officers in the Navy, but his ship saw more action than any other carrier during the crucial early stages of the war.
In his chair, tugging his mustache, his eyes flicking across the flight deck, Wren didn't miss much in more than 70 days of battle, say those who serve beside him.
Tall, thin and fond of the Navy's blue coveralls, Wren can appear stern — until he starts to talk about his ship and the past several months.
His enthusiasm plays across his face.
"I'd turn around and do this for free," he said yesterday as the Vinson circled outside the Straight of Juan de Fuca, timing its arrival for today's welcome-home party. "What do you do after that? It's a hard act to follow."
His ascension to the Vinson's captain's chair had long been discussed; the Navy routinely rotates its commanding officers about every two years. Before the carrier left its home port in Bremerton in July, the Navy decided Wren would succeed Capt. Bruce Clingan, according to Rear Admiral Tom Zelibor, commander of the Vinson battle group.
The question was when.
As the carrier steamed into the northern Arabian Sea, awaiting its orders after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, the decision was made to have Wren take the helm. At the time, it was not clear that airstrikes would commence the next day.
It was doubly hard on Clingan, who by all accounts was hankering to be a part of the battle, to relinquish his post.
"Are you kidding? Of course, he didn't want to go," said Wren. "There are scratch marks on the flight deck where we had to drag him off."
Wren is quick to point out that he owes Clingan a great debt for leaving the Nimitz-class carrier shipshape. "He did an excellent job. He did all the training and planning. I inherited a ship that was well-run and a crew that was well-trained."
Wren, who had previously served as the ship's executive officer, second in command, knew the nation's retribution for the terrorism of Sept. 11 would be swift and terrible.
"They poked the sleeping giant a little too hard," he said. "And I realized immediately that we were going to war. I said: 'Here we go. Let's push up the throttles.' "
Wren knows about taking risks. An aviator by training, he and other commanding officers in the Arabian Sea were willing to try some innovative problem solving when the situation demanded it.
When the Vinson ran low on ordnance, the Bremerton-based supply ship USS Sacramento would maneuver as close as possible — less than a football field away — then use a helicopter to ferry over weapons, which then were directly loaded onto F/A-18 Hornets and F-14 Tomcats.
"We'd start launching them right away, and after another round, she'd bring more over," Wren said.
The close encounters at sea between two big ships proved to be a delicate, dangerous dance, but doable.
Wren's seafaring skills seem to have come naturally. He grew up in a military family and decided in high school that he wanted to join the Navy because he liked boats and dreamed that someday "it would be neat to be the captain."
He attended the Naval Academy in Annapolis, where he met Diane, the daughter of the school's law professor. They later married.
Wren served as a naval flight officer assigned to an air wing on the carrier USS John F. Kennedy. Later, as a naval test-flight officer, Wren worked on developing and testing aircraft electronic combat systems and radar upgrades.
Years later, after completing additional training in nuclear propulsion, Wren reported to the Vinson in 1998 as executive officer. He then was put in charge of the USS Bridge, a Bremerton-based supply ship.
At 9 a.m. Oct. 6, when he became commanding officer of the Vinson, he told his crew, "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
Wren, who has two children and a wife he describes as Superwoman, is not shy about his crew's performance. Everyone earned bragging rights, he said. "What you need to know is that these guys are real American heroes. The job they did is phenomenal."
One story that is circulating aboard ship is the recent night Wren took a group of compatriots out for beers while the ship was in port. They went to a microbrewery that offered a blend called Arrogant Bastards. Wren ordered a round and raised a toast: "Here's to us."
His crew seems to appreciate his style.
"He talks to everyone. You know that the crew is important to him," said helmsman Curtis Long. "He's exactly the kind of guy I want in charge of me."
Wren said the magnitude of what the ship and crew accomplished won't hit many of the sailors until they traverse Rich Passage today, where well-wishers will be out in force.
At the Navy pier in Bremerton, as many as 15,000 people are expected to greet them.
His next challenge, Wren said, is to get the Vinson through a six-month refit at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard. After that, more training for the crew.
As for the future, Wren's hoping for the same luck that put him and the Vinson in the right place at the right time to make history.
"I want to turn her around, get her back out there and do it again," he said.
And what about all that professional jealousy among peers?
"What?" he asked, laughing. "They couldn't hate me any more than they already do. I'm the most envied man in the Navy."