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The next day, early in the morning on November 2 at 0517,
Tarawa
went to flight quarters in preparation for transporting
Cole
's crew ashore. As several CH-46 Sea Knight helicopters noisily idled, the crew assembled on the flight deck in groups. Everyone was dressed out in float coats (inflatable life preservers normally reserved for a flight deck crew) and hearing protection. One by one the groups boarded the helicopters and lifted off for the forty-minute flight into Thumrait. All our baggage followed separately.

At the base, it was several hours before the DC-10 was scheduled to arrive, and a large open-bay building was made available for the crew to get snacks and sit in air-conditioned comfort. Admiral Fitzgerald had flown in to pay one last visit with the crew and see us off. Already, the tension level with the crew was slowly easing as they realized they were only one day away from seeing their loved ones.

With every crew member accounted for and the bags stacked outside, I had a few minutes alone. Outside in the blazing hot sun, not a cloud was in sight and the bright blue sky seemed to stretch forever from the sandy hills surrounding the base. Sitting down on top of a cream-colored picnic table, I leaned back on extended arms to enjoy the quiet expanse
around us. There was not as much as a whisper of a breeze. The dry heat was a welcome relief to me. After two and a half weeks of oppressive humidity in Aden, I was slowly drying out. It felt absolutely wonderful.

I heard the door open and someone walk outside. Glancing over, I saw the admiral walking toward me and was halfway to coming to attention when he motioned me to sit back down. He came over and sat down next to me on the table.

“You doing OK?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I'm doing great, why?” I replied.

“Just making sure you're all right. Some of the crew is a little concerned about you being out here by yourself, that's all,” he answered with a voice of genuine concern.

I couldn't help but smile as I told him why I had stayed out here as long as I had, “Admiral, I grew up in the high desert of Carson City, Nevada, and have never quite adjusted to humidity. I'm just soaking up the wonderful, dry desert air and enjoying every minute of it. I'm fine and will head back inside in a minute.”

“OK, sounds good. I'll see you back inside,” he said as he hopped down from the table and headed toward the door.

His sincerity deeply touched me, and less than a minute later I went back inside to circulate slowly among the crew, to let them know they had nothing to worry about with me and to ask them how they were doing themselves.

Less than an hour later, everyone had piled outside to watch the plane land and taxi up to a slot on the tarmac. After refueling, it was finally time to board and put some distance between us, Aden, and the Middle East, and the memories that would be with us forever.

After several hours, the plane landed at Rhein-Main Air Force Base outside Frankfurt-am-Main, Germany. The airbase was collocated with Frankfurt's civilian airport, but the base was locked down in a heightened state of security while we stayed in quarters overnight before continuing on the next morning to Norfolk, Virginia. The entire crew was keyed up during the flight and while some slept, most were exchanging one-upmanship
stories about their intended exploits during their well-deserved convalescent leave. During the flight, Chris and Master Chief Parlier also raised the issue of whether the crew would be allowed to drink in Germany.

My first reaction was blunt. No. I had observed that during the steel beach picnic on
Tarawa
, unfortunately, some of the crew had taken the opportunity to gather up more than the two beers allotted to them and several had become mildly intoxicated. While that was somewhat understandable after a harrowing two-plus weeks in Aden, I was very apprehensive about having crew members hungover upon arrival in Norfolk. Every major news network and most other flagship news organizations across the country would be covering our arrival on television, radio, internet, and in print. The last thing the crew and the U.S. Navy needed was to have a wobbly sailor stumble down the stairs and slur words of thanks to the assembled dignitaries. No.

The reaction was exactly as expected. “Captain, you don't trust the crew.” “Captain, these are adults, not children.” “Captain, the crew deserves the chance to show they can handle themselves like the heroes they are.” I patiently listened to all of the quite reasonable explanations but was still hesitant. Even John Kennedy tried to intervene on their behalf. Finally, everyone was told to back off and leave me to think about it. Word spread quickly through the crew and many were not happy. My thinking had been, better pissed and sober, than hungover and regretful. But after what they had been through and survived, the crew felt entitled to be treated better.

After about an hour, it was time to readdress the issue. Five of us huddled together: Chris, the Master Chief, John Kennedy, and Chaplain Thornton, who also accompanied the crew on the return voyage home, and me. Master Chief assured me that the ship's chiefs would take full responsibility and keep an eye on everyone. No one would be allowed to drink to excess. Once again, it was time to face up to my responsibility as the commanding officer and make a decision. OK, they can drink, I agreed finally, but I implored them to please make sure the crew understood that if the drinking even started to look like it was getting out of control, the bar had to be shut down. The nation's eyes were going to be on us.

Thank God I made that decision. Because that evening, after we landed and the crew checked into their rooms at Rhein-Main, each room had been pre-stocked by the Air Force with a six pack of beer. The Base Exchange even stayed open late to give the crew a chance to shop for alcohol, and at the non-commissioned officers' club, a free keg of beer kicked off an evening of celebration. It was almost funny that I had even considered trying to control this one.

But the crew did great. There was not so much as even one incident or alcohol-related problem. The heroes of USS
Cole
understood how to responsibly celebrate, knowing what was at stake the next day.

At the airport the next morning, the crew boarded the same DC-10, and leave chits were handed out. The Public Affairs Officer at Rhein-Main had delivered a letter outlining how the crew should interact with the media after our arrival. With an FBI/NCIS criminal investigation, the USS
Cole
Commission investigation, and a U.S. Navy Judge Advocate General command investigation all ongoing, the Navy not only wanted to reduce as quickly as possible the ongoing media exposure that naturally followed the attack but also to ensure that no classified information leaked out by accident. No one was prohibited from speaking with the press, but it was highly encouraged that prior to any interview, each person should contact the Navy Public Affairs office. There was also a very nice letter cosigned by the secretary of the Navy and the chief of naval operations welcoming the crew home and congratulating them for saving USS
Cole
.

After an uneventful flight lasting just over eight hours, the plane touched down at the Naval Air Station in Norfolk. At the first solid thump and squeal of the wheels on the runway, the crew let out a huge cheer, with whistling, clapping, and high-fives. It was good to be home.

As the plane taxied up to the brand new terminal building, the crew craned their necks in a valiant effort to see their families. The sight outside was amazing. Families were lined up behind a rope line about 200 feet from the bottom of the accommodation ladder being wheeled into place at the aircraft's forward door. Once in place, the lead flight attendant gave a thumbs-up, and the aircraft door swung open. The cool air of fall gently
blew past as I stood up front to be the first to walk off the airplane. Stepping outside, I paused for just a moment to survey the crowd. The band played patriotic marching songs and the crowd cheered wildly. Hopefully, no one would notice my misted eyes.

At the bottom of the ladder was a welcoming party that amazed me: Secretary of the Navy Richard Danzig; Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Vern Clark; Commander in Chief of the Atlantic Fleet Admiral Robert Natter; and Commander Naval Surface Forces Atlantic Fleet, Rear Admiral “Jay” Foley were all looking up at us as we descended the ladder to the tarmac. They shook everyone's hand and personally welcomed each home. At first, the crowd and the families held back, but soon, overcome with emotion and joy, every family was able to rush forward to meet their sailor at the end of the official greeting line. Within minutes, it was gleeful pandemonium. With hugs, kisses, tears, backslapping, and handshakes, a grateful Navy and nation welcomed home a ship of heroes.

U
PON GETTING WORD OCTOBER 12 of the huge jagged hole unknown terrorists had blown in the side of USS
Cole
, the U.S. Navy had immediately launched what had to be a thorough investigation into the actions of the commanding officer and crew of the ship. The Navy's Judge Advocate General Manual is the governing document for investigations of this magnitude, especially when the death of service members is involved. The other military services have very similar documents based on legislation passed by Congress and defined in U.S. law. These same laws also form the basis for the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

On October 14, Vice Admiral Moore, dual-hatted as Commander, Fifth Fleet, and Commander, U.S. Naval Forces Central Command under the combatant commander, Central Command, signed a memorandum appointing Captain James W. Holland as the investigating officer for a command investigation.

In
Cole
's case, we had been under the operational control of Fifth Fleet but reported directly to Commander, Task Force Five Zero (CTF 50), the battle group commander embarked on the USS
Abraham Lincoln;
the aircraft carrier battle group that had relieved USS
George Washington
. Our
mission in Fifth Fleet had principally been to operate in the North Arabian Gulf and enforce United Nations Security Council sanctions and maritime intercept operations against Iraq as a result of the first Gulf War in 1991. These operations were expected to consist of Visit, Board, Search and Seizure measures against suspected smugglers, mostly oil tankers that operated in Shat al Arab waterway and the international waters bordering Iran, Iraq, and Kuwait.

Such operations were risky but routine. They involved Navy ships stopping a suspected smuggling boat or vessel based on its location, cargo manifest, maneuvers, and other intelligence information, and boarding it with a security and inspection team to determine if it was truly in compliance with the sanctions. The Navy had been conducting these operations for years without incident, and despite a well-documented lack of proper equipment and adequate training, fortunately, no major life-threatening incidents had occurred.

Since we had not received our in-theater operations, threat, and security briefings before pulling into Bahrain on October 17, it was assumed that even with our limited 56 kbps download capabilities, we would draw our necessary threat briefings and port security information directly from the Fifth Fleet web sites with supplemental information from the staff of the
Abraham Lincoln
battle group.

In his letter to Captain Holland, Admiral Moore gave him the formal task of inquiring into the facts and circumstances surrounding the actions of USS
Cole
in preparing for and undertaking a Brief Stop for Fuel (as the Navy officially classifies it) at Aden Harbor, Yemen, on October 12, 2000. The investigation completion date was initially set for November 13, 2000. Admiral Moore directed that the FBI and NCIS would investigate the actual act of terrorism. The command investigation team was required to cooperate with them as necessary, but Captain Holland was not to inquire into the facts and circumstances of the explosion or the persons who may have been involved in that explosion.
¹
This directive limited the scope of the investigation to internal command actions, but the limitation also removed it from the full context of how the attack occurred.

During Admiral Moore's visit the day after the explosion, he and I briefly discussed his decision to appoint an investigative officer. We both knew this was not going to be an easy or quick process. Every fact would be checked, every qualification verified, and every measure and process
Cole
had put into place to protect and defend the ship would come under intense scrutiny. While the investigation was tasked with ascertaining facts, it was understood that given human nature, there would also be a tendency, unfortunately, to assign blame, given the nature and extent of the attack.

A command investigation creates an atmosphere of intimidation and anxiety, since no one can be sure not to be found to have failed in some manner and subsequently assigned blame, or cited for a failure. Informally meeting with
Cole
's officers and chiefs on Friday afternoon, I made it clear that whatever the investigating team needed, it would get. Complete and total cooperation was expected from everyone, regardless of personal feelings or impressions. If one of the crew were needed for an interview or to provide a particular piece of evidence or page of documentation, watch schedules would be adjusted to accommodate the investigation requirements. The crew was expected to give their unwavering cooperation.

Captain Holland and Lieutenant Command Thomas Copenhaver, a Navy lawyer appointed to assist him with legal advice, arrived on board Saturday morning, October 14, two days after the attack, to start the investigation. As with almost everyone who arrived on the ship, they were unfamiliar with our unique circumstances following the attack and appeared to have an expectation of office spaces, working computers, and administrative equipment readily available to support them. Although the forward two-thirds of the ship was still without power, Chris quickly adapted our limited resources and set the team up in a Combat System Department space near the back of the ship.