Time Marches On

                        Time Marches On





    When growing up I would often hear adults talk about the " good ol' days ". They talked about the way things were and how things have changed. During my own life time there have been a plethora of inventions and events take place and I wondered about the experiences and events that occurred during my grandparents lifetime and later those of my parents.
     Think about how much time passes in a persons life then think about all of the happenings that can occur in that time frame.

                                                                 1800's


     Grandpa Riggan was born in 1886, the same year " Avon " and  "Coca Cola " hit the market.
     The horse and buggy mode of transportation saw the beginning of it's demise with the invention of the automobile in 1889.
     Granny Riggan was born in 1890 , there were 43 states in the union and Benjamin Harrison was President . The most noteable event occured December 29 when the Army tried to disarm a camp of Lakota Sioux Indians which resulted in the Massacre at Wounded Knee , 153 men , women and children were killed .
     The cure for what ails you was marketed as " aspirin " in 1897, it was probably better if you swallowed it with  "Jello " which was invented the same year.
      In 1899 Granny Wade made her debut in this world just as the Spanish American War ended, we won.

                                                                     1900's

    The turn of the century brought with it more inventions, discoveries and events. The promise of prosperity and personal well being hung heavy in the minds of the people.
    1900 was the year of the "Hershey Bar " made in where else but Hershey, Penn. by a man named Hershey. Radio was also invented but there were no broadcast stations so you couldn't hear it.
    1901 was the year that U.S. President Mc Kinley was assassinated, he wasn't the first U.S.President killed in office nor would he be the last.
    For the lighter side, in 1902 the  "Teddy Bear " was intrduced and found it's way into baby cribs and little kids arms by the thousands. Grandpa Wade was born that year, wonder if he had a Teddy Bear ?
    People must have thought the Wright brothers were nuts when they unveiled a contraption called an airplane and actually flew it in 1903.
     I can't imagine many people of the time understanding Einstein's " Theory Of Relativity " which was published in 1905 but it did turn heads.
    The earth shook and California came close to sliding into the ocean in 1906 but when the dust settled only San Fransisco was a pile of rubble having endured a powerful magnitude 8 earthquake.
    Henry Ford advanced the world into a new era in 1908 when he introduced the " Model T " automobile. The poor man's car.
    By far the major events of the early 20th century had to be the arrival of " Halley's Comet " in 1910 and the sinking of the unsinkable " H.M.S.Titanic " on her maiden voyage in 1912. Here we are 100 years later and the Titanic still mystifies people. First discovered in 1705, Halley's Comet reappears every 75 -76 years and has already been around again on schedule, by my calculation my grand daughter will get to see it about 50 years from now.
    Henry Ford again headlined the news when he revolutionized productivity in 1913 with his moving assembly line for producing his cars. The man had some great ideas to build his cars faster, one idea was in painting, you could have any color car you wanted as long as it was " black ". Think of the time saved mixing paint. Another time saving device in 1913 was the advent of the " zipper ", no more fooling around with trying to slip a button into a tiny hole.
    All of time saved meant more work which meant more money in your pocket. It was not long before the government decided they had better use of that excess money so in 1913 they came up with the most hated government agency to date the " IRS " .
    In 1914 the " Big Ditch " was completed thus the " Panama Canal " was open for business. This was a boom for shipping as they no longer had to round the tip of South America.
    1914 also brought forth a scourge of history with beginning of World War I, Europe was once again involved in conflict. The US tried to stay neutral but in 1917 the country entered the war under the command of General " Black Jack " Pershing. This was the war to end all wars.
    As the war lingered an even worse scourge reared it's ugly head in 1918, the " Spanish Flu " quickly spread world wide and killed an estimated 21 plus million people before fading away.
    After almost 5 years of trench warfare, WWI came to an end in 1919. The death toll totaled 16 million with another 20 million wounded - combatants and civilians.

                                                                    1920's

     1920, the " Roaring Twenties ", started out with the first commercial radio broadcast, people were sitting around a little wooden box listening to news, sports, music and mysteries. It was like TV only there was no picture. Also in 1920 the League of Nations or NATO was founded and women were given the right to vote much to the dismay of a lot of men.
     But the worse thing to happen to the men folk of 1920 was " Prohibition ". For the next 13 years you could not " legally " buy booze in the US. This opened up a whole new industry " bootlegging ".
    Now that people couldn't drink their attentions often turned to other venues of entertainment. Although motion pictures had been around for some time and were very popular, the advent of talking motion pictures came into being in 1923. Also an event of note : William Luther Riggan was born ( my Dad ).
    One of the highlights of the movie theater was the news reel. Highlights of news and current affairs from around the world would be shown every week and the 1920's were full of news.
              1926 - the first liquid fueled rocket was fired ( the space race was on ), Floye Jean Wade ( my Mom ) made her appearance in this world
              1927 - television was invented though it would be another 20 years before appearing in the nations households
              1927 - Charles Lindbergh flies solo across the Atlantic
              1928 - Penicillin, the best thing since sliced bread was discovered and oh! someone figured out how to commercially slice bread
              1929 - prosperity ended in the US with the crash of the stock market, greed from all walks of life sent the nation into the despairs of the " Great Depression ", repercussions spread world wide.

                                                                   1930's


    Despite the soup kitchens and unemployment lines time marched forward to the next decade, the 1930's.
    In 1932 science split the atom, the importance of this feat would not be realized for another 10 years. Amelia Earhart was the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic ocean. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the man who would lead the nation thru some of the worst years in history, was elected as the 32nd President of the United States. Happy days were here again.
    1933 found FDR taking office, Prohibition ends and Flier Wiley Post flies around the world in 8 1/2 days. Though aviation is still in it's infancy events are about to happen that will quickly push it into the future.
    The worst possible news of 1933 was that Adolf Hitler rose to power in Germany.
    On a lighter note, Monopoly hit the market in 1934 families now had something to do besides listen to the radio at night.
    In 1935 FDR was successful in passing the " Social Security Act "allowing millions of Americans the ability to slip into old age with some dignity.
    Not to be out done, aviatrix Amelia Earhart attempts to fly solo around the world in 1937, she was last heard from somewhere over the Pacific. Mystery still clouds her memory.
    In 1938, radio actor and later movie star, Orson Wells presented a radio play of H.G.Wells novel War of the Worlds. Even though the station announced that the broadcast was a play many people panicked and ran amok in the belief that Martians were invading the nation. People do seem to hear only what they want to hear.
     The computer age started in 1939, the first one had miles of wiring, vacuum tubes, flashing lights and required enormous amounts of space, it was not pocket compatible but boy could it add.
     1939 finds the advancement of aviation in full swing when the first commercial flight crosses the Atlantic. The excitement was short lived when Hitler invaded Poland marking the beginning of WWII. Again America chose to be neutral even though we manufactured and shipped weapons and material to the allied powers.

                                                                  1940's

    1940 found Americans on the move to prosperity, the light at the end of the tunnel was a little brighter. The female population rejoiced with the invention of " Nylon Stockings ",now every woman had smooth beautiful youthful legs. The problem was that the hem line for skirts was still below the knee.
    While the country was involved with helping England, Russia and France with war materials, the Japanese, who were conquering most of Asia, kept insisting they were peace loving and wanted nothing to do with war. Then on December 7th, 1941, the Japanese Naval Fleet attacked, without warning, our Pacific Fleet in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Some 3,000 people died, mostly Naval personnel many of whom died while trapped in sinking ships such as the battle ship USS Arizona.
    After the bombing of Pearl Harbor America naturally declared war on Japan but because Japan was a member of the Axis powers Germany and Italy declared war on America. The world was truly at war. America was not as prepared for war as they needed to be, it took time to build up the needed equipment, material,supplies, train the men and get everything to where it was needed. In the mean time US personnel fought battles in the Pacific, North Africa and Italy to name a few.
    In 1942 a substance called "Duct Tape " was invented for the war effort, today there is a roll in every tool box, home and business, new uses pop up every day.
    Finally " D - Day ", June 6, 1944 Allied forces started to take back the European Continent from the Axis powers, meanwhile the island hopping campaign in the Pacific continued.
    1945 found us still fighting on two fronts but we were winning, then the news came that Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the man who had lead our nation  since 1933, had died suddenly in Georgia, April 12. German forces surrendered May 8, 1945.
     Japanese forces being more fanatical took more convincing, America had been secretly working on an "Atomic Bomb " and in August of 1945 we dropped one on Hiroshima, Japan. The death and destruction was unbelievable but it took the destruction of Nagasaki, Japan to convince the Japanese to surrender in August 1945. American deaths from the war totalled more that 418,500, world wide deaths ran into the tens of millions.
    The world is at peace again, the machinery used to build weapons are now turning out more practical things such as the " Bikini " bathing suit and " disposable diapers " they hit the market place in 1946. You have to wonder about the relationship of these two inventions as they coincided with the post war " baby boom ".
    1947 was a significant year, pilot Chuck Yeager was the first person to break the sound barrier and I came kicking and screaming into this life on May 5th, little brother Pat followed me fifteen months later
    The decade ended nicely in 1949 with the first non stop flight around the world, ah progress.

                                                                   1950's


     The new decade brought forth new inventions and new happenings, in 1950 the first credit card was created and a new war was started when Communist forces of North Korea invaded South Korea.
     In 1952 a vaccine for Polio was discovered and a world wide disease was on the verge of eradication.
     1953 gave us another discovery which is more in use today than it was then, DNA. Everybody has it and everybody is different. 1953 also brought Howard Clinton Riggan into the family on September 12th, like I needed another brother.

     The most significant event of 1955 was the birth of my little sister Vickie Lynn Riggan, dad finally got the girl he always wanted.
     The instigator of many family fights was invented in 1956, the " TV remote " it also created a new type of human - " couch potato ".
     The big news came in 1957 when the Russians put a satellite in earth orbit, " Sputnik " circled the earth emitting a beeping sound and the space race was on.

     For the Riggan family, the decade ended with the birth of little brother Ronnie Ray Riggan on July 31, 1958, this was the point at which mom and dad figured out that enough is enough.

                                                                       1960's


    The 1960's started off with the roar of rocket engines sending men into space. Russia beat us into orbit when they sent Yuri Gagarin into the atmosphere as the first man in space April 12, 1961. The US followed by sending Alan Sheppard as the first free man into space May 5, 1961.
     Also in 1961 the Berlin Wall was built and divided Communist Europe from free Europe and John F Kennedy took office as the 35th president of the United States. He was the first Catholic to hold the office.
    Russia decided to install ICBM missiles in Cuba in 1962 and for a short time the world sat on the edge of it's seat as the new president forced the removal of the missiles. WWIII was averted.
    In November 1962 John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Tx.
    Grandpa Riggan died in 1963, his was the first funeral I attended and I still miss him.
    The smiley face first appeared in 1964. President Lyndon Johnson got the Civil Rights Act passed in 1964 and in 1965 he sent US troops in force to stem the tide of Communism in a far away place called Vietnam. America was at war again. In 1965 a 2nd generation of the Riggan family  ( yours truly ) entered military service for the next four years, GO NAVY.
     1966 gave us the first hand held calculator, all it would do was math problems but it was better than trying to work them in your head.
    1967 saw the worlds first heart transplant and the first super bowl football game.
     The decade ended on a high note in 1969 when Neil Armstrong full filled President Kennedy's promise and walked on the moon, " one small step for man - one giant leap for mankind ".


                                                                      1970's

     The 1970's found the space race still in full swing only it was no longer a race, the Russians never made it to the moon but we kept going back. The general public was not as excited any more , space was no longer news worthy but some people just couldn't give up on the possibilities yet to be found in space.
     1972 found us laying Granny Riggan to rest, she was 82
     The Internet was developed in 1973, this was probably the most significant event of the 70's.
     For those of us who were there the biggest event was the end of the Vietnam war in 1973. Vietnam was never a war, it was a conflict, I never understood the difference as people died either way. Just over 58,000 names of Americans killed in the conflict are engraved on the wall of the Vietnam Memorial.
     In 1974 a marvel of the office was introduced, the " post it note ". They stuck to paper, paint, metal, plastic and glass, they came in various sizes and eventually in colors. They were stuck all over the place with written reminders to do or not do things.
     Also in 1974, Congress was in the process of impeaching President Richard Nixon when he stepped down and was later pardoned by President Gerald Ford who took over as president.
     Women the world over mourned the death of rock and roll star Elvis Presley in 1977, more than 30 yrs later fans still gather at Graceland in Memphis ,Tn for the anniversary of his death.
     The first test tube baby was born in 1978.


                                             1980's

     The 1980's seemed to be the age of technology, the personal computer invented in 1976 was now finding it's way into homes around the world. My first born Michael Daniel Riggan was born July 10, I was a proud Papa. 1982 was a good year, my youngest son Clay Kenneth was born August 24, before he could settle down we were on the move again, by 1990 we would move cross country five or six times.
     The first mobile phone hit the market in 1983, you had to wear a shoulder strap to carry it around and monthly bills exceeding $1000.00 were not unheard of.
     Space capsules gave way to the space shuttle which would carry personnel and cargo in to space and return safely to earth and sent back into space  quickly. We lived in Titusville, Fla in April of 1981 , With Danny on my shoulder, I watched the first space shuttle Columbia rise above the tree line behind my house April 4th , it was loud and the ground shook but it was amazing . In 1983 Sally Ride would be the first woman in space.
     1985 was a painful year for the Riggan family, in August Dad and Grandpa Wade passed away within days of each other. Granny Wade lived another 2 years and died in 1987 at the age of 88, the last of an era. Mom lived on until 2005, now it was up to the baby boomer generation to carry on. 

     

     I am still experiencing the events and inventions of my time, technology changes our lives almost overnight and the nation is still involved in conflicts around the world, people are still dying for a cause. Seems as though people learn about history but no one seems to learn from it.

     I started this to show the changes through out a persons lifetime and I have concluded that time will continue on, people or no people. Time never slows down and never changes.
     I was watching a science program the other day and scientist have determined that our sun will die in 5 billion years but before that the Galaxy Andromeda will collide with our Milky Way in 4 billion years. Either way the earth and life as we know it will cease to exist in 4 or 5 billion years that allows for a lot of generations of mankind and I can't help but wonder what will become of the Riggan clan. I know where we come from but where we are going.







                                                   
    

   
   
         
   
  



   

More Fairytales And Sea Stories

     




    Back in the 60's there was a TV show called McHale's Navy starring Ernest Borgnine and Tim Conway. It was about a PT boat crew and their madcap adventures in the Pacific during WWII.  As comedies go it was at times quite funny.  Little did I know that I would belong to a group that at times reminded me of McHale's Navy.
    I received orders to ACDIV 13 in June 1967, shortly before Linda and I were married and I joined up with them in November.  ACDIV 13 was part of an amphibious assault group that roamed the South China Sea off the coast of Vietnam.  Our group consisted of four LCM 8 and four LCM 6 landing craft commonly referred to as " Mike " boats.  When ordered we would load up Marines and all of their equipment and carry them to the beach, it was just like the movies of the D-Day Landings at Normandy during WWII.  During the next 18 months I served two tours in the war zone and we landed the Marines twice.  The rest of the time we performed odd jobs as necessary and got in and out of mischief quite often.
     We were a rag tag group not part of the ship's company ( I think that at times the ship's captain was glad of that ) and we were assigned to several different ships.  We were led by an officer fresh from OCS, he was usually an Ensign. There were 3rd and 2nd class petty officers assigned as boat coxswains for each boat.  Although I spent time on both LCM6's and 8's I spent most of my time on LCM8's.  This was a steel hulled, flat bottom landing craft about 60 ft. long 20 ft wide and weighed in at about 120 tons with a load capacity of 60 tons.
    The following stories are some of the escapades I was in - some of them would have made a good script for a TV show.

   A Day At The Beach

   The four LCM8's were loaded with an M-60 tank on each boat and were ordered to land them on a particular beach somewhere south of Da Nang. I think you need to know that an M-60 tank has a crew of 4 and weighs about 60 tons which is the limit for our boats. You also need to know that we drew about 5- 6ft of water with that much weight.
    As you close in on the beach it was not uncommon to run aground on a sandbar.  The LCM8 was equipped with four 671 GMC diesel engines which could boost us over most any sandbar - it was not uncommon to cross several sandbars. As we approached the beach each boat was about 75 -100 yards apart.  On this day we crossed 4 sandbars till we could go no further.  I looked down the beach and saw that the other boats were off loading their tanks and appeared to be in line with us and the dry sand of the beach was about 20 - 30 ft away. We lowered the bow ramp and I gave the go ahead sign to the driver,with his head sticking out of the drivers hatch, he slowly started forward as the rest of the tank crew sat atop the turret. As the tank neared the water the driver went faster, the nose plowing into the water that washed over the front of the tank. All of a sudden the tank disappeared beneath the surface with only about 3 ft of the whip antenna above the waves. The tank crew were swimming around with an amazed look on their faces and a few moments later the driver finally bobbed to the surface spitting salt water.
    Seems the last sandbar was not the last sandbar and there was a deep hole on the other side. The crew was not in a good mood as they swam ashore. It took 2 M-60 tanks, an M-60 tank retriever, and 4 UDT divers three days to locate and pull the tank ashore.

    Flight Of The Bumble Bee

   During a particularly bad storm which had us rolling out of our bunks for a couple of days, an old LST loaded with ammunition of all types broached stern first on a stretch of beach.   Imagine a ship designed for assault landings in WWII and never really intended for more than one landing, but was still in use some 25 yrs later in Vietnam. Well there it was with it's ass in the jungle and surf crashing against the bow. They said 80% of the compartments were flooded which should have qualified it as scrap but some one who wanted to make a name for themselves convinced the powers that be the ship could be salvaged and made right again. Who were we to argue?   The Navy spent a month removing the ammo via helicopter to a large ship just offshore. Ocean going fleet tugs started doing their thing getting the ship ready to tow off the beach and that's when we came in. Seems the tugs had a mast that was too high for helicopters to get close enough pick up equipment and carry it to the LST, where as we could come alongside the tug to pickup whatever was needed. We would then run in to the beach to drop off the material.
    This is where things got fun. We didn't go all the way into the beach.  We stopped in the surf along side the bow of the LST and secured our boat with a 4" hemp line, called a hawser, to our stern bollard. The LST would lower a jib boom crane down to us and we would place the ends of the cargo net on the hook so they could haul away and lift the cargo to their deck. Problem number one was that the surf was running about 8ft or better as another storm was moving in. The heavy surf made the boat move around like a cork in the water, in this case a cork in the ocean - a very upset ocean. There were times that I would be hanging by one arm to the crane's hook because the boat fell out from under me when the surf went out. There were times when I looked up and saw nothing but a wall of water in every direction.  At one point the surf was so bad that we couldn't get enough power to back out.  We got turned around side ways in the surf, almost tipped over and wound up going out forward with the waves soaking us . This was the only time I ever put on a life jacket without being told.
    While all of this was going on there was a helicopter ferrying personnel from the LST to a ship just offshore and back again. This was one of the older fat choppers not the Huey's they used for troops and gunships.
    We were taking a break at the time and watching all of the action when someone said, " look at the chopper."  There it was having just lifted off from the bow of the LST and the wheels were dragging in the water just beyond the surf line. We listened to the radio and learned that the the pilot could not regain full power and therefore could not lift out of the water.  Much discussion went on about what to do.  After the pilot tried everything he knew it was suggested that the pilot run the chopper thru the surf and on to the beach - but it was determined the surf was too  high ( we could have told them that ).
    The chopper continued to move around the water.  It reminded me of a bumble bee going from flower to flower and all the while it continued to lose power. Finally it was decided that the chopper would come close to a large ship that had large cranes that could swing outboard and pick up the chopper. The pilot was told to get close to the ship and turn off the engine then apply the rotor brake to stop the rotor from turning. Once the rotor stopped, the personnel in the chopper could bail out and we could rush in and tie a rope to the chopper to keep it from sinking. We would then tow the chopper to the ship. They said the chopper was designed to float for 10 min.
    What is that old saying about " best laid plans of mice and men ?"
    As the chopper moved into position we followed it and were ready with ropes. The pilot shut down the engine and as the rotor started to slow he hit the brake - which didn't work. The blades continued to turn as the chopper sank deeper into the water.  The blades hit the water and splintered into pieces and the chopper started to sink lower in the water. The personnel bailed out in the nick of time as the chopper disappeared, it went down like a rock. The pilot swam up to our boat and as I helped him aboard he asked if we got the chopper.  When I told him no he asked how long it floated.  I snapped my fingers and said " about that long ".
    UDT searched for four days and never found it.  The currents were fierce and swept it away.


Sometimes You Should Have Stayed In Bed
                                                                                                                               
    Ever have one of those days where you would have been better off had you stayed in bed ?  You know, the kind of day where nothing you do seems to come out in your favor. Well let me tell you about George ( actually I never knew his real name but George will do ).  George was a Boatswain Mate from one of the fleet tugs assisting on the salvage of the aforementioned LST.  George had been aboard the LST off loading the ammo when he got sand in his lungs and developed pneumonia. This got him 30 days bed rest on one of the large ships assigned to the LST debacle.
    I first met George on the day he was released from sick bay and was returning to his fleet tug.  Still a little weak and pale, he was eager to return to his duties. The ship put George on a helicopter like the one that sank and sent him out to be lowered to his tug.  Ah but wait, the tug has a tall mast that will not allow the chopper to lower things to the deck so the next best thing is to lower George to our boat and we will take him along side his tug.
     This is where I meet George. The chopper is overhead hovering about 25 ft up, I looked up and saw George sitting on the edge of a hatch in the bottom of the chopper with his legs dangling in air. The chopper crew is placing a harness under his arms that is attached to a hook and steel cable. George yells down to me to catch his bundle of clothes as he throws them down. I bent over to retrieve the clothing and there was George just laying there on his back with the harness and about 10 inches of cable still attached.
    As the chopper flew off I got down beside George to see if he was still breathing.  He moaned in severe pain, unable to move. We ran our boat over to the ship George had flown from  as they had a doctor aboard.  The ship lowered a Jacobs ladder from a hatch in the hull and the doctor and a corpsman climbed down. The doctor checked George out and determined that among other things he had a dislocated shoulder which had to be set so they could wrap him in a special litter to keep him immobilized. The only means to get him aboard ship was to haul him up with one of the cranes.
    Having diagnosed George's condition, the doctor explained to me and the corpsman how we were going to put George's shoulder back in place. George still in pain was not happy with the doctor's diagnosis and treatment regimen. George cussed the doctor as well as any sailor I ever heard, his vocabulary was quite extensive, George even threatened to kick the ass of everyone involved with the setting of his shoulder, also the crew of the helicopter. Undeterred and oblivious to the verbal abuse aimed at him, the doctor ran a sheet under George's armpit and gave the ends to me and told me to place my foot against George's shoulder. The corpsman was told to grab George's right arm and put his foot in George's armpit. All the while George, still in pain and cussing like a sailor, was now screaming and crying.
    The doctor grabbed George's dislocated left arm put his foot in his arm pit and on the count of three we all pushed or pulled as required.  George screamed loudly then there was a loud snapping sound that made me wonder if we might have pulled too hard. The breath went out of George and his body relaxed. After several sighs George was profusely thanking the doctor and was now prepared to show his gratitude by kissing the doctor's ass rather than kick it.  He even offered to have the doctor's baby.
    We wrapped George up in the litter and hooked him to the crane.  The last I saw of George he was dangling from the crane about 50 ft in the air.  I wondered if he was worried about another rope breaking. We heard later that George had some back injuries and a broken bone somewhere but he was going to be OK.  He was back in bed where he probably should have stayed that day.


The Worst Of Times

   Some times things happen that makes you shake your head and wonder if God is so smart why did he create stupid people.
    We were assigned duty aboard a new LPD - I can't remember the name. The ship had an officer in charge of the well deck who was quite proud of it's condition. The paint on the bulkhead was fresh and without scars, the timbers lining the well deck were new and had few splinters, the well deck was immaculate.  He also had his own version of tie off lines which had us a little scared.  Instead of the normal 2 inch nylon lines with an eye splice in one end, he had a 1 inch steel cable about 18 inches long attached to the nylon rope, the cable had eyes in both ends held together with about 2+ lbs of compressed lead or steel for each eye. We complained about these tie off lines but to no avail.
    When bringing Mike boats into a ship's well deck they are married together in pairs.  In other words, two boats are tied together side by side. The coxswains use only the outboard engines for power.  Now you have 240 tons of boat plus any cargo entering an enclosed space. There is probably 15 ft  of side clearance but it doesn't look like it.
    An amphibious assault ship has the capability to ballast down allowing water to enter the well deck and the Mike boats can float in.  Sounds like a simple process but it's not.  Depending on the condition of the seas and the experience of the well deck crew, entering a ship can be the most dangerous thing we would do all day.
    The officer in charge of this particular well deck had his own ideas about boat handling. He would ballast down in stages bringing our boats in inches at a time.  He used the action of the ocean swells to lift us up and move us forward. This was the way things were suppose to go, but then you had to keep an eye out for that rogue swell - the one swell that was bigger than the rest and came out of no where.
    The well deck crew of this ship worked on very narrow catwalks about 20 ft above the deck.  From there they would pass us the tie off lines which we applied to our cleats and bollards. When done correctly the lines were placed in such a fashion that the boat would not move until the tension was released.
    On this particular day we were the first two boats to come in.  There was very little water in the well deck and we bottomed out often until more water was brought in. The seas were running about 4ft which is not bad.  As the line handlers moved their lines forward the boats followed on the next swell . When the boats were in position, the line handlers took out the slack and tied off to their cleats.
    Out of nowhere a rogue swell hit us and shifted us forward.   The swell raised us high into the air, the line handlers took in the slack and then the swell was gone.  All 120 tons of our boat combined with the boat we were married to and the shortness of the tie off line created a catastrophic moment in time.
    When nylon rope stretches beyond it's limit and breaks it behaves like a rubber band, it returns to it's point of origin - the cleat on the catwalk. The force of the returning rope can break bones and put dents in steel bulkheads all by itself, add in several pounds of steel cable on the end and you have a deadly weapon.
    When that rogue swell lifted us up and moved us forward the line handlers took out the slack in an attempt to hold us in position. When the swell dropped us on the deck a steel eye attached to our cleat broke.  It was no match for the 120 tons of boat it was trying to hold back. The nylon line reacted as it was supposed to and returned to the cleat on the catwalk.  It carried with it the hunk of steel wire.
     On the narrow catwalk there was no time to react much less room to move out of the way. The line handler of that line was struck in the forehead by the wire rope and the force slammed him into the bulkhead behind. The boy's skull was crushed both front and back, he died instantly.
    None of us knew the boy ( I call him a boy because we were all still young enough to meet that qualification ). We learned later that the boy was due to be discharged soon.  He was going to fly back the the states in 30 days.  He left a young wife and baby boy.
    I never fired a weapon while I was in Vietnam, never saw the enemy, but on that day I had a hand in taking the life of that boy. He went home early in a body bag.  His son grew up without a father.  I learned how cruel and senseless life can be.













   

Pay Attention , Son

                     



    One of the functions of being a parent is teaching certain skills to your kids - little things that only you know and can pass down to the next generation.  Things that will be more useful in life than anything ever taught in school.  In this my parents were a flowing fountain of knowledge which was passed along to me starting at an early age.
    For instance - when my brother Pat and I got old enough and tall enough to push the power mower with all four wheels on the ground ( I was about 9 - 10 ), Dad taught us how to mow the grass. This is a very useful skill which I continue to use today although I do it on a riding mower.  Brother Pat , having a higher form of intelligence,  just moved to Arizona where they don't have grass.
    Dad taught me how to check the oil, wrap the starter cord around the motor pulley, adjust the throttle and choke then pull hard on the cord. This procedure didn't always produce the desired results so you needed to know how to check the spark plug for spark and here again Dad was the Mr. Wizard.  He gave me the spark plug to hold while he pulled hard on the starter cord. The next thing that happened was that the jolt I received from the spark plug sent me rolling backwards across the lawn.  My fingers felt as if a firecracker had exploded in them and were numb for a long time.  It didn't seem funny to me but Dad got a good laugh out of it.
    Driving was a skill Dad had down pat, after all he used to be a cab driver after the war and Mom couldn't teach me because she didn't know how to drive. The first time Dad tried to teach me to drive a car I was still in grade school and only by stretching would my toes touch the pedals. I told this story in an earlier posting and to keep from repeating let's just say that it was a good thing that bush was there to stop us. He waited until I was about 16 to try again.
    Dad taught me a multitude of things - how to bait a fish hook and how to slide your hand around a fish's  body to lay down the fins so you wouldn't get punctured while taking the hook out. He taught me to tie knots although the only one I can remember is the bowline. He taught me to drive a boat and water ski.  I haven't water skied since I was about fifty but fishing is a great past time.  Hopefully I will advance to Catching before I get too old and arthritic to work the reel.  From him I developed a love of the water and respect for the things it could do.
    Dad was a butcher - the best in the business. A walk past the meat dept of a grocery store today reminds me of Dad, there is an aroma that permeates a butcher shop and when I smell it I want to look around for Dad. Once in a bourbon induced moment of melancholy he told me his dream was to open his own butcher shop and have his sons work beside him as he taught them the trade. He taught me to use a knife but evidently not well enough.  Turns out brother Clint was the only one with the skill of a butcher. Dad never realized his dream but I know that for a short time he was proud to have Clint working next to him.
    Now Mom on the other hand taught me much more valuable skills to insure my survival.  Dad may have taught me drive a car but Mom showed me how to open the cans of food I bought from the store and prepare them for consumption.  Any fool can drive a car but can he cook?
    Actually Mom passed along her knowledge because she had five kids and needed help in a big way. My only sister was still a baby by the time I was nine but I could peel, cook and mash potatoes, make toast ( with out a toaster ) and fry Bologna. Making biscuits from scratch is an art form which I never developed - mine could be used for hockey pucks.
    Doing laundry is always a useful skill and someday I must get Linda to show me how to use the more modern machines. I learned to wash clothes using a wringer washing machine. It was portable and could easily be rolled to any part of the kitchen. After the clothes went thru the agitation process and were rinsed you had to swing the roller section over the tub and insert a steady stream of clothes thru the rollers where the water would be compressed from them. The drier was located in the back yard and consisted of a series of wire lines (4 or 5 ) strung from one " T " shaped post to another. In the summer time clothes dried fast, in the winter they just froze. The term " rain water soft " came from leaving the clothes on the line during a storm and allowing them to dry afterwards.
    Once the clothes were brought in from the clothes line, things like sheets and towels were folded the rest went into a basket for ironing this too was a lesson to be learned. There were no wash and wear or perma press clothes in the 1950's.  If you wanted a smooth look it had to be ironed with a steam iron. Mom's steam iron consisted of a regular iron and a coke bottle full of water with a sprinkler head, it was ironic that you took the time to dry clothes and then you poured water on them so you could iron them. I was pretty good at ironing - pretty much anything you wore on your body had to be ironed, jeans, shirts, Sunday go to meeting clothes. The one thing I hated to iron was Dad's handkerchiefs, let's face it,  here was an item that was going to be stuffed folded into a back pocket and pulled out so you could blow your nose into it and then all wadded up stuffed back into the rear pocket where the snot would dry and harden. Dad went thru a handkerchief every day whether he had a cold or not.
    I didn't realize until years later just how much I learned from my parents.  Much was ingrained in me without any realization that I was being taught. So many things in life quickly become mundane, everyday routine things that if you think about them you probably won't remember when or where you picked them up. I guess some things have a way of rubbing off on you when you least expect it.
    Recently my sons have eluded to skills that up until now I would have sworn they would never have - the interest was never there . Much of their informative years I traveled and worked long hours, yet some of this new found knowledge had to have come from me but I don't remember passing it along or that they were listening at the time.  Linda must have told them stories.
    Generations of parents have passed their knowledge, skills and demeanor to their sons and daughters whether they knew they were or not. The lessons are at times hard and painful but the outcome can be useful and memories boundless if you paid attention.
   
   
   

The Dawn Of Battle

                      The Dawn Of Battle




     Going to war is not the same for every one.  Some people are in the thick of battle every day, some people are in the war zone but they are safely tucked away in an office setting  or in a support group and only hear the sound of battle in the distance.
     As for myself, I always seemed to be skirting the perimeter of war. It was sort of like the second string football player who patiently waited his turn at fame and glory ( I don't care who says otherwise - there is nothing glorious about war ).
     My outfit was part of an amphibious assault task force. The task force carried around a battalion of Marines and their equipment, always on the ready to take them in to some unknown stretch of beach or up a winding river. One day things finally started to pop.
     About noon our fearless leader gathered us together and told us that we would be making a landing the next morning on a beach south of Da Nang - a place that supposedly had not seen friendly forces in quite some time. This was going to be a major operation the likes of which had not been seen since the Korean war.  Well, this got our attention.
    When we got back to our boats we found that things had started to move. Gunners mates from the ship were hauling away our two fifty caliber machine guns to be cleaned and tested.  We were told to build sandbag barriers around our gun mounts and the con of the boat. The ship returned our fifty calibers and gave us two additional ones for mounts on the bow.  The Marines provided us with trained personnel to man them.
    The entire ship was alive and busy with preparations for battle. The Marines loaded artillery shells into their tanks, cleaned their weapons and ran their engines. Each of us went to the armory and drew side arms, rifles and flack jackets this was something we had never done before.  Preparations went on into the night.
     Sometime around two in the morning each of our boats was loaded with 200 Marines. Two hours later the ship ballasted down and we sailed off into the night. There was no moon, no ambient light from stars or shore - it was the blackest night I have ever known. We were guided to our station by radio ( the ship tracked us on radar ) and there we went into an oval pattern about 3 miles from shore.
     The Marines had a tracked assault vehicle they called an armored personnel carrier. The thing was basically a steel box on tracks, totally sealed, carried 25 troops and weighed about 62 tons.  Once in the water only about two feet of it stuck out of the water ( talk about a low profile ).  Each of our boats carried a P-250 pump, should one of the personnel carriers start to take on water we were to pull along side and start pumping it out. The way we saw it was by the time we found the carrier in the dark it would most likely be on it's way to the bottom, it doesn't take much water to get a 62 ton box to sink. Anyway, the personnel carriers were in an oval pattern about 100 yards in front of us.   They were going to be the first to hit the beach.
     This was one miserable night - no light, the wind was blowing about 10 - 15 mph, the salt spray was soaking everyone, and the Marines packed in like sardines were getting bitchy. All of a sudden there was a loud explosion that spooked the hell out of everybody. Turns out there was a destroyer about a mile further out that was firing it's guns over our heads.  Then the sky lights up with rockets sailing over our heads. There was an LST converted to a rocket launcher working with the destroyer.  Soon all of the ships of our task force opened up with a barrage on the beach. The battle lines were drawn.
     We had no idea what was going to happen next but we knew the Navy was serious and we were getting worried.
     As the dawn light started to appear on the eastern sky we got ready to go in. Out of nowhere came 2 Phantom jets.  They flew so low to the water that they kicked up a rooster tail. They headed for the beach and for the next 20 minutes or so we watched as they climbed and dove towards the jungle behind the beach dropping napalm bombs and firing rockets. The jets departed and were replaced by 2 Cobra helicopters.  They took on the appearance of pissed off Humming birds as they bounced around the area firing their rockets and machine guns.
    Finally we got orders to go.  We were about 100 yards behind the APC's and watched as they hit the beach and off loaded their Marines who ran towards the jungle. When we arrived and dropped our ramps the Marines we carried walked off to join their brothers - no rush.
    We returned to the ship and started supplying the Marines with all of their equipment, everything from tanks to cranes. It took us two days to get everything ashore. During the first day the Navy brought in it's big guns - a battle ship, can't remember whether it was the USS New Jersey or the USS Missouri.  Which ever it was they sat out at sea so far that all you could see was a silhouette but when she fired her guns you knew it.
    For a week we stayed on our boats eating C- rations dated in the late 1940's, soaked to the bone and tired. Every now and then they would bring us in for a hot meal but mostly the break from C- rations was cold dried sandwiches whipped up by the ship's highly trained chefs. I was so tired one day that I laid down on the wet steel deck and went to sleep in the rain.
    The week long operation was over and we pulled the Marines back to the ship. We were so tired when we hit our compartment we just took off our wet dungarees and hung them on the end of our racks. The next morning they were dry and so stiff from the salt water we had to whack them against the table to loosen them up.
    This was as close to the real war as we got, we didn't dodge bullets and dive into fox holes.  Instead we faced the possibility of being crushed between boats, falling overboard in a night ops or picking up a serious case of pneumonia.
    After all was said and done I can't say that I felt any different towards the war. Even though I was in the war zone, the war was still a distant sound coming from the nearby jungles. My war was the stories the Marines told us and laughed about as they used humor to hide their fear and sorrow.  They didn't want to talk of the fire fights and death.  In retrospect,  I think we were OK with the humorous side.
   
   
    
   
    

The Irish In Me

                            The Irish In Me


    As I have gotten older my thoughts have often turned to the inevitable - some day I am going to pass from this world to the " here after " where ever that is I couldn't say, but everybody goes there. Some leave this life with lots of glorious fanfare, the shedding of many tears and in some cases not speaking ill of the dead is taken to new heights as the bullsh-t is spread like peanut butter on stale bread ( thick ).  It is sort of like my Grand Pa Wade said upon being elected as sheriff,  " Hell, I didn't know I had so many friends until I was elected sheriff " funerals tend to draw even your enemies to your side if for no other reason than to make sure you'r gone, they will tell the family how you will be missed but once the dirt starts fall into the hole all bets are off.
    Before I get to the nitty gritty let me preface my thoughts of passage to the next life with other more enlightening thoughts.
    First off - I have always had a light hearted outlook, although  I was dead serious about life, I tried to have fun even in the face of adversity.  One of my bosses once told me that the thing he hated most about me was that I was so laid back that nothing ever seemed to bother me and it pissed him off ( if  he thought I was laid back he should meet my brother Clint ). While I am happy to have pissed him off, nothing could be further from the truth lots of things bothered me it was just that I realized some things were out of my control so why worry about them. There has only been one time when I let things get to me and was broken  (if anybody runs into Terry M. tell him Mike said " f--- you ").
    In the Navy we had a saying ,"excuse me! you have obviously mistaken me for somebody who gives a s--t ".  This was quite often said by those who were considered short timers. I think that Linda can tell you that though I may have at times seemed unconcerned it would drive her crazy when I worried myself about a scratch on a project that only I could see. I care about things I am just more cautious about the battles I choose to fight.
    A few years ago I learned that I am half Irish and half English.  Truth be known, there probably are a few more nationalities mixed in.  At any rate I like to lean to the Irish side of my heritage.  An Irishman is historically known to be fun loving and full of merry making, always ready with a song and dance and I love their music.
    Getting back to the business of dying, Linda and I have talked about this issue and I have decided that I want to be cremated and my ashes scattered in the gulf stream.  Which part of the gulf stream is up to my sons - just enjoy the trip. While you boys are going to all the trouble to get to the gulf stream might as well take your fishing rod - all of those ashes may attract fish. Oh, and drink a cold one for the old man.
    I don't want a lot of ceremony.  I will leave that up to my family if it makes them happy to see me laid out so people can walk by and whisper about how good I look so be it - just do it on the cheap and use the money you save for a vacation. Besides looking at dead people is not one of the most pleasant things to do.
    What I do want is a wake.  A party to remember our life together ( good and bad ) , a celebration to move me out of this world so there will be room for the next generation.  Now I don't want just a wake - I want what I come to believe is an Irish wake - full of drinking, eating and story telling, laughter ( no tears ) and music.  Irish music  - and if anybody can figure out how to dance an Irish jig then have at it. There will be no bullsh-t at my wake, I know I have pissed off people in my time and if anybody wants to get something off their chest that's alright just don't confuse me with some one who cares ( I won't say a word ).  Invite whomever you choose, family, friends or strangers off of the street, every now and then look at my picture and have a drink for me.
    After all is said and done, the tears are dried and hang overs cured, get back to living the rest of your lives, my time will have come and gone as it should. In the days to come should a memory cause you to pause and reflect on the past, rather than dwell on it in a state of sadness go find a loved one, go for a walk, hug them, and tell them how much you love them, talk of tomorrow and things to come - be happy.
    Now don't go getting upset.  As far as I know I'm just getting old, not dying.  I am writing this before my senior moments  become too frequent to remember to say anything at all.  I hope you won't be to pissed off if that wake doesn't come about for another 20 yrs at least and should you decide not have a wake - well, that's all right too.
   

Giant Steps

                             

    There are two times in one's life that are held in " awe " . The first is when they take their first steps into life and the next is when they step into the realm of adults and start to put their mark on the world .  For me these were the first of several awe inspiring moments of my life.
    I signed up for four years in the U.S.Navy from June 1965 - June 1969.  My first night in boot camp, my first night away from home, I said to myself,  " Riggan, you have really screwed up this time ". Thirteen weeks later and no worse for wear I was headed home for a short leave before going to my first duty station.  Arriving home in my uniform, I don't know if it was pride on the faces of Mom and Dad or the realization that for the next four years the house would be a little less crowded.
    My first two years in the Navy were spent at Patrick AFB, Cocoa Beach, FL.  I was assigned to NOTU ( Naval Ordinance Test Unit ).  All of the nuclear missile submarines in the Atlantic fleet had to come in every two years and test fire a missile down range, NOTU oversaw the planning, support, and tracking of the missile launch.
    My first job was as a VIP Duty Driver.  I chauffeured Captains, Admirals, Congressmen, Senators and once, the Commodore of the Marine Corps.  During slow times I would run a mail route to various places on Cape Kennedy.  Not an exciting job but there were ways to liven things up and I usually found a way, sometimes to my detriment.
    Cape Kennedy was a huge place and there were lots of things to see,.  One of the mail stops was way out on the beach.  One day when returning, I noticed a trek thru the brush and like my Grandfather I wondered where the trail went.  Off I went in my aged 1/2 ton pickup truck.  It had a six cylinder engine, stick shift and two wheel drive. Turns out the trail made a u-turn and came back out a little further down the road. While negotiating the path I buried the truck up to the axles in the soft sand about 50 yards from the road. There was nothing to do but hike to the nearest phone and call for a tow.
    The first tow truck they sent out was a standard wrecker - great for clearing wrecks but it didn't have enough cable to stretch from the road - had to bring out the big guns. The second tow truck was more of a portable crane.  This thing was a good 35ft long, had two front axles and four rear axles and all of them were drive axles - it was a monster. This thing plowed thru sand dunes and sugar sand like it was on hard pavement and once they attached a chain to my truck they hardly revved up the engine to pull me out.
     I don't know how much the bill was but I was told to stick to the road from then on.  After watching the wildlife while sitting on the hood of my truck I decided this was a good idea. There are huge snakes on Cape Kennedy - one black snake in particular was as thick as my thigh.
    Several weeks later while running the mail route in a 2 - ton work van I pulled off to side of the road to have lunch.  The driver side wheels were on pavement and the passenger side wheels were about a foot off the pavement but when I tried to leave the the rear wheels quickly dug a hole to the axle. Stuck again... call a tow truck. It wasn't long after this incident that I was transferred to the port as a Dock Master.  I wonder if the transfer was due to my driving?
    While working as a Dock Master at " the Cape " there was ample opportunity to fish. Saltwater fishing from the Navy pier was fun because you never knew what you might catch.  We caught everything from sheepshead to barracuda and king fish. During the night we would cast shiny silver lures into the dark waters and reel them back thru the light shinning from the pier.  We would catch what we called a needle fish. A needle fish is a throwback to the dinosaurs.  It was so thin that to look down on it all you could see was what appeared to be a thin thread laying on the water.  In reality,  the fish was 2 - 3 ft in length 3 in. wide and had a mouth full of long sharp teeth like a barracuda. When landing a needle fish you would reel it to within 10 - 12 in. of the rod tip and slam the fish hard on the concrete surface and quickly smash it's head with the ballpean hammer that you carried in the tackle box for just this purpose. Once the needle fish was determined to be dead it was cut into pieces for use as bait.  I forget the real name for the needle fish but I do remember delving deeper into it's existence and discovered that in the depths of the ocean it would grow to lengths of 35 ft or more.  Being young and fearless we still dove into the surf every chance we got.
     Daytime fishing was different,.  There was a cross tie connecting the pilings below the pier and during low tide we could walk the length of the pier gigging fish and lobster with the gigs we made from welding rods and pipe. Schools of mullet would swim close to the pier and we would try to gig them from above  but the fish were very skittish.  I brought my bow from home and put a three prong head on the fishing arrow - the mullet didn't stand a chance.
    Fishing wasn't just a pass time for us, it was a means to stay on the good side of Lt. Ross - the man loved fish and he seemed to forget our lapses of duty when presented with a mess of fish.
    Lt. Ross was a Mustanger meaning he started his Navy career as a lowly enlisted man and worked his way up to the officer ranks,.  In 1965 he had 27 years of service and this was his first shore duty, or so he told us. One of the first things he did was to purchase a fishing boat.  He bought a 21 ft. Cobia equipped with a 110 hp Mercury engine - the biggest Mercury made in 1965.
    The first fishing trip Lt. Ross made in his new boat took him 30 miles offshore.  I don't remember that he caught fish on this trip.  He probably didn't have time as the motor quit and he was more concerned about how he was going to get back before the gulf stream carried him to the outer banks of North Carolina.  Fortunately there was a boat further out than the Lt. and they gave him a tow.  The next day the Lt. took the boat back to the dealer.
    Now you have to picture Lt Ross - he was about 6'3" and all muscle.  He was 3/4 Cherokee Indian but had the looks of being full blooded, red skin and all.  Lt. Ross was not a man you wanted to meet in a dark alley and pissing him off was not a good idea either.
    So, the Lt gets the boat back to the dealer who profusely apologizes and promises prompt repairs under warranty. The Lt decided to take this opportunity to make a few upgrades for offshore fishing.  He told the dealer that once the motor was repaired he was to move it to the side and mount another just like it beside it ( I always thought the Lt was a ground breaker, look at all of the boats today that have two and three outboards ). In addition to more horsepower the Lt. added another 60 gal.fuel capacity to the 25 he had, ship to shore radio with a big whip antenna and an emergency kit complete with flare gun. I had my first offshore fishing trip in that boat.  We went so far offshore we couldn't see land and the launch gantries at the cape appeared to be about 1/2 in. high. That day I caught a 25 lb king fish and had my first blue water adventure.
    While stationed a Patrick AFB I was too young to drink off base but there was a place we called the " geedunk ".  It was like the base cafe / bar / hamburger joint and it was opened to all ranks but mostly catered to enlisted personnel.  They served burgers, roasted chicken and beer ( can or draft ). My two roommates were in their early twenties  and one night they decided I should have my first drink. Two other guys decided their young roommate should have his first drink, so let the games begin. It was easier to keep up with cans of beer and that night it was the best Milwaukee had to offer " Schlitz beer ".
    Bets were made as to which of us could drink the most beer and walk out under his own power,.  At first the quantities were set low on account of neither of us had drank before but as the empties mounted up the bets went higher and the beer flowed freely. I did my roommates proud that night.  I downed 18 cans of beer and two glasses of draft then I walked out under my own power with a glass of beer in my hand.
    My roommate Leo left with me and made sure I got back to the barracks and in bed. I stripped down and crawled into bed and was fast asleep and in no pain - God was in heaven and all was right with the world. Something was pulling and shaking me awake, I opened my eyes and there was Leo trying to get me to take 2 aspirin so I wouldn't have a severe hangover in the morning. All of a sudden the world started to turn and I had to grab hold of the floor to keep from falling off.  Now the aspirin and the beer mixed in my stomach and there was a churning sensation  that started to rise in my throat. Lucky for me I was able to run, crawl or walk my way blindly to the head ( bathroom ) where I proceeded to puke my guts out.  I have no idea how long it took, Leo said the commode flushed about four times, finally I was able to return to my room.  Fortunately the hallway was narrow enough that I could brace myself by putting a hand on each wall while I walked. I made it back to bed before the dry heaves started then I spent the next hour or more with my head hanging off the side of the bed over a trash can.
    There is a country song that goes something like " beer is good and people are crazy ".  The real meaning is that when people drink beer they tend to do crazy things. The start to my beer drinking days did lead to me doing some crazy things like dancing. I didn't dance at 18, I don't think I dance now but with more than a few beers in my gut anything was possible. My friends said that I moved like "Lurch" a TV character on the Adams Family - in other words, stiff and zombie like.
    Drinking made me bold and unafraid to approach the most beautiful girl at the E- Club dance, we danced the night away and by chance and happenstance we have been dancing through life together for 45 yrs. I gave up drinking years ago.  I figured out that doing crazy things were not going to keep Linda by my side.  Telling her that she was beautiful and that I love her seemed to impress her more.
    My first two years in the Navy while fun and exciting were somewhat uneventful.  After I met Linda, she changed me to a man with a mission and that was to entice her to marry me. Convincing her of the future was a lot harder than I thought but on June 17, 1967 we said our " I do's ".
   When Neil Armstrong stepped on to the moon surface he said, "one giant step for man and one giant leap for mankind ". My steps were not as far reaching as those on the moon but they were no less important to me.  Life in the grown up world is often a frightening place but never more so than the first few steps. I survived,  as did many before me and many more after, the world as I knew it was large and wondrous and was about to become even more so.
   

I Wonder What If

                    I WONDER, WHAT IF


    May 5, 1965, my 18th birthday, from this point forward I was my own man, I didn't have to ask permission, I could go where I wanted when I wanted and stay out as late as I wanted, or so I thought.
    My first decision as an adult was to join the U.S.Navy.  I didn't join out of loyalty to the country or to honor a family tradition or to escape from the law.  I joined because the proverbial apple had fallen from the tree and I wanted to roll as far as I could.  I had no idea what was going to become of me.  I was lost and without direction of any kind.  To be honest I was somewhat afraid of the future.  I wasn't afraid for what the future may hold, I was afraid I wouldn't know what to do when I got there, where ever " there " was. The military for me was the most logical choice.  Back then it was join, be drafted or become a "Hippie ".  I joined the Navy.
    In 1965 I was not a political person.  I didn't care who was in office.  China was just a foreign country on the other side of the world with millions of people that they couldn't feed and I had no idea where Vietnam was or what was going on there.  Hell, I didn't even watch the news or read further than the comic strips in the newspaper. I needed someone to grab me by the shoulders,  turn me in the right direction and kick my ass to get me moving and for the next four years that is what the Navy did for me.
    My first duty station was Patrick AFB in Cocoa Beach, FL.  I was surprised because other than the base was sitting on the east coast of FL there was not much Navy there.  NOTU, or rather Naval Ordinance Test Unit, was part of the Polaris missile program for the Navy.  All SSBN submarines had to come there and successfully test fire a missile every two years.  NOTU was a small outfit and I was assigned as a VIP driver to chauffeur dignitaries around.  Later I was transferred to the port at Cape Kennedy as a Dock Master.
    Neither job was what I call demanding.  In fact my time at NOTU was fun. We had lots of time off and spent it at the beach. The best thing about my first two years in the Navy was that I met Linda, the love of my life and the girl who walks beside me today - but this is for another time.
    Not wanting it's sailors to get bored the Navy had a habit of shipping you off to another duty station every so often.?  I got my orders in late May 1967.
    ACDIV12, what the hell was it and where the hell was it. Everything in the military was a big secret, all I could learn was that it was something to do with Vietnam.  Vietnam in 1967 was a turbulent place.  Guys were fighting and dying for yards of jungle, a hill, or a stretch of river. This was the first major war where the enemy used gorilla tactics which made it hard to tell friend from foe.  The hell of it all was it was not a declared war but rather another police action. The war had been going on for years but had escalated over the last 2 years and now there were several hundred thousand men and women fighting the communist hordes. I think the average age of our troops was about 19.
    Turns out that ACDIV 12 was actually Assault Craft Division 12 - one of several who were in a constant rotation between San Diego, Ca., Subic Bay in the Philippines, and part of an amphibious task force somewhere off the coast of Vietnam. The division was assigned to a large amphibious assault ship that had the capability to ballast down and launch our landing craft loaded with Marines and their equipment so we could land them on a beach in a WWII style landing. As it turned out when I arrived in Subic Bay ACDIV 12 was back in the states so I was invited to join up with ACDIV 13 who was soon to be rotated back to the states - government bureaucracy being what it was took another six months to get us back to the states.
    ACDIV 13 ( later to be known as ASSAULT CRAFT UNIT 1 ) turned out to be a rather loose organization.  We were separated from the ship's company and were given our own compartment in the bowels of the ship -  no inspection, no standing watches. During the day we worked on our boats, during the night we played cards, watched movies on the mess decks or ran midnight supply appropriation missions. There were times when we felt like the red headed step child of the Navy but we were ready and did our jobs when we were called upon.
    Upon returning to the states I found out that San Diego was an expensive place to live and after a few months I volunteered to go back.  Regular pay, sea pay, hazardous duty pay and all of it tax free was a good incentive so sometime around July 1968 I went back and remained there until about March 1969.
    During my two tours in Vietnam we made several beach landings.  One in particular we thought John Wayne himself was going to appear.  Twice we were called upon to take our boats into harms way on a volunteer basis, to a man we all volunteered, but the missions were cancelled at the last minute.
    Although I was in a war zone and at times the situations were a little shaky, I never  came under enemy fire and never fired a weapon in defense. Some would say that I was lucky to have eluded the hell of combat. Many was the time I sat on the flight deck and watched the far away tracers fly thru the darkness and hear the explosions from distant cannon fire.  I silently thought of how glad I was not to be  "in country ".
    Several times we off loaded the Marines of our task force.  They would disappear into the brush behind the beach and be gone for a week or more. When we pulled them out they would be dirty and tired.  Some had a distant look about them, which meant nothing to me at the time.  If they talked about the past few days they used humor to hide their feelings, if they talked at all. We who stood on the side lines watched as they walked off our boats into the jungle didn't know or understand what the Marines were going through.  In our innocence there was some envy.  The taste of combat was only imagined - no conveyance could bring forth the reality.
    The war took the lives of more than 58,000 of America's youth and many thousands more received wounds which plague them still.  A new disease ( Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome ) was born to the broken and weary veterans of battle. Stories of heroic acts were everywhere - including those of my brother Pat, a Navy Corpsman with Recon Marines and holder of a Purple Heart and Bronze Star.
    Through the years I have thought about the Vietnam war and the small part I played and I wonder what if things had been different, would I have measured up or would I have folded?  Would I have come home broken in body or soul or would my name be etched in the black granite of the "Wall" ? Why did I come home unscathed?  What was so different about me that I survived when so many didn't?   My father came through WWII without a scratch.  He didn't talk about the war, was it because he felt as I do now? These questions haunt me from time to time though I realize there will never be an answer to them - still, I wonder.
   Some one once said " it's not how they died that counts but how they are remembered". In the 1980's private funds were raised and congress donated land for a Vietnam memorial graciously referred to as the " The Wall ".   It contains the names of 58,272 men and women who died in the war.  Many never saw their 21st birthday or the children still in the womb of their wives back home. They were sons and daughters, brothers and sisters,  and fathers of those they left behind.  To those of my generation who served they are proudly called the "True Hero's".  They live in the hearts and minds of those they served with and will be remembered for all eternity.
    I have never visited the wall or one of it's smaller versions that travel the country. I don't feel I have the right to walk the hallowed ground of my brothers who paid the ultimate price while I sat and watched the red tracers cross the night sky. Maybe some day I will make the trek to sit and gaze upon the many names etched forever in stone.  I will weep because I was lucky and they were not, and I will wonder, what if things had been different.