He has seen sunrise over the Aleutian Islands, sunset over the coast of Africa and moonlight over the Great Barrier Reef. He has also been shot at over Iraq, had the engine of his fighter jet malfunction mid-flight, landed on an aircraft carrier at night and has witnessed the death of a friend in a flight accident.

But what Navy Captain Ronald H. Henderson ’76 would say is the defining moment of his professional life is what he is doing right now—commanding the USS Juneau, an amphibious warship with a crew of 1,000.

Currently, Henderson is guiding the ship in the Coral Sea.

If Henderson proves himself capable of handling a large ship in this mission, says Vice Admiral Timothy J. Keating, Henderson’s former boss, he may find himself commanding an aircraft carrier, one of the most prestigious and trying jobs in the Navy.

During his current mission, there is absolutely no room for error, for only one or two captains are chosen each year to take the helm of a carrier.

“One mistake and you’ve reached the end of your career,” says Henderson’s former Quincy House roommate Douglas M. Schmidt ’76.

Henderson seems the ideal man for the job. He has proven his courage in the skies over Iraq and his leadership ability as commander of a squadron of FA-18 fighter jets that earned the “best in the Navy” distinction.

Born and raised in Strafford, Pa., Henderson grew up with dreams of flying warplanes—a goal that would stay with him.

Although the anthropology concentrator did not come to Harvard knowing that the military was in his future, the dream was always on his mind. According to Schmidt, Henderson would play war strategy games like “Battleship” to relax.

The 1970s, in the aftermath of the 1969 University Hall takeover, was not military friendly. But Henderson still felt drawn to service and decided to talk to a recruiter about becoming an intelligence officer.

“My friends thought I was crazy,” Henderson wrote in an e-mail from the USS Juneau.

When the recruiter seemed more interested in steering Henderson toward flight school than intelligence, Henderson was sold.

“He rekindled dreams I have had since childhood to fly high performance By WILLIAM M. RASMUSSEN

Crimson Staff Writer

He has seen sunrise over the Aleutian Islands, sunset over the coast of Africa and moonlight over the Great Barrier Reef. He has also been shot at over Iraq, had the engine of his fighter jet malfunction mid-flight, landed on an aircraft carrier at night and has witnessed the death of a friend in a flight accident.

But what Navy Captain Ronald H. Henderson ’76 would say is the defining moment of his professional life is what he is doing right now—commanding the USS Juneau, an amphibious warship with a crew of 1,000.

Currently, Henderson is guiding the ship in the Coral Sea.

If Henderson proves himself capable of handling a large ship in this mission, says Vice Admiral Timothy J. Keating, Henderson’s former boss, he may find himself commanding an aircraft carrier, one of the most prestigious and trying jobs in the Navy.

During his current mission, there is absolutely no room for error, for only one or two captains are chosen each year to take the helm of a carrier.

“One mistake and you’ve reached the end of your career,” says Henderson’s former Quincy House roommate Douglas M. Schmidt ’76.

Henderson seems the ideal man for the job. He has proven his courage in the skies over Iraq and his leadership ability as commander of a squadron of FA-18 fighter jets that earned the “best in the Navy” distinction.

Born and raised in Strafford, Pa., Henderson grew up with dreams of flying warplanes—a goal that would stay with him.

Although the anthropology concentrator did not come to Harvard knowing that the military was in his future, the dream was always on his mind. According to Schmidt, Henderson would play war strategy games like “Battleship” to relax.

The 1970s, in the aftermath of the 1969 University Hall takeover, was not military friendly. But Henderson still felt drawn to service and decided to talk to a recruiter about becoming an intelligence officer.

“My friends thought I was crazy,” Henderson wrote in an e-mail from the USS Juneau.

When the recruiter seemed more interested in steering Henderson toward flight school than intelligence, Henderson was sold.

“He rekindled dreams I have had since childhood to fly high performance jets from the decks of an aircraft carrier,” he recalls.

Henderson excelled at flight school and soon was chosen to be commanding officer of Strike Fighter Squadron 146, his first command. VFA-146, as the squadron was called in military jargon, went on to win the Estocin Award as the top FA18 squadron in the Navy. The success of VFA-146 made Henderson consider a career in the Navy more seriously.

“This positive experience in command helped encourage me to stay in the Navy and seek even greater responsibility in Major Command,” Henderson writes.

During that time, Henderson’s alma mater became subject of much good-natured ribbing from the other FA18 pilots. In the air, fighter pilots identify themselves by a short “call sign.” Henderson’s call sign became “Harv”—short for Harvard. The name stuck.

“Harv” Henderson, as he is now called, has been lucky in many of his subsequent tours of duty. Stationed near the war-torn Balkans and the Middle East over the last few years, Henderson had the opportunity to distinguish himself as a leader.

He was on the aircraft carrier the USS Independence when Iraqi President Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. Henderson remembers the adrenaline he felt as the carrier rushed to the Gulf.

“Those were harrowing days,” he explains. “No one knew how far Saddam would go. It was a defining moment for me as we were faced with the real possibility of combat operations for the first time.”

Henderson’s plane was shot at over Iraq—but he dismisses the danger. “The sky is big and their bullets were small,” he writes.

Henderson went on to play an important role in the Kosovo conflict.

“He got a sleepy little assignment as an officer posted to Southern NATO command in Naples,” Schmidt remembers. “As soon as they got over there, the Kosovo campaign began.” According to Shmidt, the U.S. military needed representatives to NATO with flying experience, and Henderson fit the bill.

As Henderson describes it, taking over the Juneau was the culmination of his years of service. It was a reward, an honor—and also a grave responsibility. “I was of course, proud to take command of a ship with such a great tradition for excellence,” Henderson writes. “I was humbled by the enormous responsibility placed upon my shoulders, responsibility for carrying out my assigned missions and for maintaining the combat readiness of this national asset.”

Henderson has been successful in his career, but it hasn’t always been easy. The days on the Juneau are long and arduous, but he writes that he is “loving every minute of it.”

He usually wakes up at 0530 (5:30 a.m. civilian time) each morning to gauge the ship’s overnight progress and sometimes spends all night on the bridge directing military exercises. His schedule leaves little time for him to talk to his wife Kathryn and their eight-year-old son Alexander, who live on Sasebo Naval Base in Sasebo, Japan.

The strains on his personal life may be difficult, but Henderson understands the seriousness of his mission and feels a strong sense of duty to his county and to the men and women he commands and has ultimate control over while at sea.

“As Commanding Officer, I have the opportunity to improve their lives and enhance their professionalism. I also carry a solemn responsibility for their lives and their safety,” Henderson writes. “These are the demands placed in the hands of the Captain of a warship at sea; ultimate and inescapable responsibility for the mission, safety, health and lives of the crew he commands.”

The constant danger of missions has real consequences. Henderson estimates that he loses on average one friend a year in the Navy.

In his first airborne emergency, Henderson experienced engine troubles and had to land immediately. “The training I had received allowed me to know what to do, and I did it,” Henderson writes. “After a safe landing I was a little shaken, since I had seen close at hand the risk involved in military aviation.”

Henderson’s dependability makes him capable of commanding what is essentially a floating city.

“He’s really a quality guy to work for,” says Commander Gustav A. Anderson, who served under Henderson in Italy. “There’s no bluff, no politics. He’s straight to the point.”

According to Admiral Keating, such qualities are important to rising in the ranks and becoming an effective leader.

When he led VFA-146, Keating says, Henderson made sure everyone in the squadron had time to spend with his family. “He’s genuinely concerned with the health and well-being of all under his command,” Keating says. “If Harv Henderson tells you something, you can take it to the bank—it’s true.”

Henderson, however, is modest about his achievements and refuses to speculate on his future in the Navy. He will only offer one prediction: “I guess I will stay in the Navy until I cannot contribute anymore.”

—Staff writer William M. Rasumssen can be reached at wrasmuss@fas.harvard.edu.