VADM Francis R. "Frank" Donovan, USN (Ret.), Requiescat in Pace

VADM Francis R. Donovan, USN

Late in the Fall of 1991, VADM Frank Donovan, Commander of the Military Sealift Command, had a decision to make about hiring a new Flag Lieutenant.  Miltary Sealift Command had "made its bones" in the Gulf War earlier that year, ensuring that the half a million strong Desert Shield and Desert Storm forces were closed, supplied and sustained.  Donovan was at the top of his game, and as was the custom then, rated a LCDR as his aide, which is what he was replacing.  For some odd reason, the Surface Warfare shop sent my name in for consideration, even though at the time, I was a frocked Lieutenant (the horror).  So I drove up to the Navy Yard one day, figuring I'd get some interview experience for the day they send me into a bite sized one-or-two star where I'd be a better fit.

I can still remember how nervous I was, especially when I met the outgoing aide.  He was about six three, ramrod straight, the very picture of a perfect flag lieutenant.  As soon as I saw him, I knew there was no chance.  So I went into the interview with the Admiral thinking I had little to lose.

On the coffee table was a schematic, a print not unlike architectural plans.  Although I was looking at it upside down, with a short glance I could tell that it was the design for a large, marine boiler.  Admiral Donovan welcomed me and then said almost immediately, "what's that?" as he pointed at the schematic.  I suppose I hesitated a second, because he quickly interjected "nah, just kiding".  And then I answered--"it is a marine boiler, sir."  I had started the Navy as a boilers officer, and the components were readily discernible.  When he asked how I knew that, I told him about my first job--which incidentally, had been an early job of his.

"It doesn't get any better than this, Kid."

The interview did not last long, we shook hands and I left the office for the drive back to Norfolk, with little sense that I would get the job, but an incredibly positive assessment of one of the most senior men I had met in the Navy to that time.

You can guess the story.  I got the job, and it was a wonderful experience.  I never met a kinder, gentler man in the Navy, a man for whom the Sailor and the Marine were the highest reason for service.

The Admiral had eight kids, but he and Martha made me feel like one of their own.  I never knew how they all fit in that little house in Vienna, but they made it work and they made it work well.

One day, the Admiral walked into my office, adorned as was his custom in his "Navy Boxing" windbreaker. He said, "Sport (he generally called me Sport, Champ, or Kid), my picture fell off the CNO's piano."  I didn't immediately understand, so he spelled it out for me.  "The CNO just called, and I have to retire.  So that's what we'll be working on for the next couple of months."  It was a sad day for me, and I am sure it was for him too.  I know he would loved to have had another job.

Frank Donovan loved the Navy, the Naval Academy, the Marine Corps, Sailors, Marines, Mariners, and Gators.  I think he may have loved Gators best.  It was a sight to behold when he was among them, and the pride they had in each other's friendship and professionalism was strong.

I would see the Admiral yearly at Surface Navy Association symposiums.  He was always deeply engaged, always working on something important.  It was one of my favorite things about SNA shows.

I will miss him.

Bryan McGrath