Neptunus Lex

Blogging is a very personal effort. NEO is not the same as any other blog, even though I may draw on many of them for inspiration, or even long quotes. It has been so as long as I’ve been around. One of the blogs I read, even before I started was Neptunus Lex, the blog of Carrol Le Fon, a naval aviator. He made me laugh, he made me cry and he made me think, what more can a man do for another. Lex died on 6  March 2012 doing what he loved best: making naval aviators even better. That’s a legacy that any man can aspire to.

Our blogs overlapped, but I don’t think I ever referred to him. I was amazed, reading the Victory Girls last night, that he still appeared on their blogroll. On a nostalgic whim, I followed the link. As I thought, the site disappeared shortly after his death, but what I didn’t know is that it was preserved. YAY!!! It is here, mostly. It’s not the same as having Lex amongst us, but I think it will serve. A sample of why so many of us loved him, and still do.

Well, and I very much appreciate all those who offered their thoughts. They pushed and pulled in many different directions, and apart from those who counselled immediate retirement – sorry, that’s not me – I have shared in all of them, all in a moment. Funny how things can swirl so quickly through your mind, between the moment when you hear unlooked for news, and the moment after, when you are asked what you think of it.

Is there a moment of wounded pride, wherein you ask: What? How can I be offered up? How can I be spared? As busy as I am, and as much as I contribute?

There is. But we are none of us irreplaceable, the wheel continues to turn. And it does not surprise me that I am offered up: I made a decision some time ago that this would be my last tour, which obviated the need for self-promotion. I do my work quietly, accept no thanks, offer it instead to others. It’s really quite astonishing what you can do, when you don’t care who gets the credit.

Is there a moment when the old joy of battle sings again in your heart? When you think of joining the fray rather than reading about it? When you think of qualifiying in weapons whose range is measured in meters rather than in miles? Of strapping on and suiting up once more? Of hurling yourself into the fight?

There is such a moment. A moment only. And then you reflect that no one places super-annuated FA-18 pilots on the deck in order to carry the fight to the foe. You reflect that of all the things you might learn in Sojer School, the most valuable would be to count your rounds as they went down range, in order to save the last one for the end. Because just like in the days when I strapped an airplane on to go to war, if it comes at last to a pilot with a pistol in his hand and dust on his boots, something has already gone horribly wrong, and the odds of it getting any better are vanishingly small.

From Now is the autumn of our discontent Who amongst us older people can’t relate to that? It’s happened to me and I’ll bet it’s happened to you as well. All we can do is try to pass on all those lessons we’ve learned, often to youngsters who think they know it all, but it’s our duty.

I note that Lex died a few days before the USS Enterprise set out on its last tour. Is it connected? I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised, legends are like that.


About NEO
Lineman, Electrician, Industrial Control technician, Staking Engineer, Inspector, Quality Assurance Manager, Chief Operations Officer

9 Responses to Neptunus Lex

  1. Pingback: Tradition | All Along the Watchtower

  2. the unit says:

    Both today’s article and going home 3/7/17 are extremely poignant blogs for me of late. Won’t go into lengthy detail in comments. It’s as Lex says…” the wheel continues to turn” and all is well.
    P.S. What he wrote in ’06 turned out well for the daughter as of ’16. I explored a bit, …again. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • NEO says:

      I hear that. Probably not in the exact same way, they are for me too. Both speak loudly, of places we’ve been and people we’ve known and loved. Well, they are hidden from us, for a time, and I really have little desire to return to where I grew up and spent the first thirty years of my life, it would feel alien now, I think. Poignant is the word. We’re getting old, my friend, and I don’t want to, seems like last month when I was playing HS Football. (And dreaming about the cheerleader captain, of course) 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      • the unit says:

        Yep. As for this link…blog time i’ll spend with you. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        • NEO says:

          They just played this before your comment on BBC’s local Norfolk station. Hadn’t heard it in forever, but it seems to fit our mood tonight. Think I’ll find the schnapps bottle and drink straight out of it, just like the old days. 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

        • the unit says:

          Well, perfect example of what a difference of about 10 years can make. I’d never heard that one. But since the Dutch are on my mind today. 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

        • NEO says:

          I remember it, but I don’t think it exactly topped the charts! I’ll spare you the Celine Dion version though! 🙂 This though was one of my favorites. But then, you know I have a weakness for gingers, especially Brit ones! 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

        • the unit says:

          Oh yeah, I know. I was stupefied when I first heard her sing it. On my car radio and I’ve always remembered exactly where I was at the time, road and all. That was yesterday when I was young. 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

        • NEO says:

          Yep! It’s still one of my very favorites, maybe more than it was at the time. We really were, and it’s probably a good thing! 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

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