tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36098668094283274762024-03-04T23:24:03.555-08:00Humble Heroes WWIIA blog for the book "Humble Heroes, How The USS Nashville CL43 Fought WWII".Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-30188216733417644772014-12-13T21:49:00.001-08:002014-12-13T21:50:41.319-08:0070th Anniversary Of Deadly Kamikaze Attack On USS Nashville CL43<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On the afternoon of this day, exactly 70 years ago, a
Japanese Val single engine plane with two bombs affixed to the wings, flying
out of Mabalacat, a remote Philippine village and headquarters of the Japanese
102st Air Group, slammed into the USS Nashville amidships at 400 miles per hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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For 133 men, their lives tragically ended, some in an
instant, vaporized in the blasts or instantly shredded by hot shrapnel and
others only after horrific suffering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For those that lived, physically wounded (another 190 men) or not, their
lives were permanently scarred and altered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Through the exhaustive work of combat veteran Marine Rodney
Parker, son of Marine PFC William L. Parker who was wounded in the attack, we
now know the names and final resting place of most of the men killed that day.
Many are buried in cemeteries in the United States, coast to coast and in
between.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there are others buried in
the massive American Cemetery in Manila, Philippines.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a horrific day of death and suffering, explosions,
fire, blasts of jagged hot metal, mutilated bodies, burnt flesh and yet,
extreme, widespread and common heroism in defense of ship and crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Nashville never faltered for a moment
because the well-trained and committed crew never faltered, often rushing into
walls of flame and exploding ordinance to save fellow crew, fight the fire or
fight the Japanese.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those men never
hesitated.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Decades later I thought about this day at one of the
reunions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew them, by name and sight
at least and knew who had been wounded that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They remained remarkably resilient, still
focused on the task at hand and committed to living their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They limped, used canes, walkers and wheelchairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had facial scars, limp arms, missing
fingers, a twisted hand, an eye gone, and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They smiled, they remembered the dead and exhibited gratitude for things
big and small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They knew what most don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were near the final chapter of their own
lives but had survived the horror that killed so many in the Pacific.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their joy, wisdom and bravery were
palatable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they are leaving us
quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So remember them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On this day, 70 years ago, the men of the Nashville were
heroes yet again, and never stopped being so.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-68220752734443109512014-02-12T13:06:00.000-08:002014-05-11T11:54:45.374-07:00<h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">USS CARL VINSON CVN70</span></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Part 1: Tail-hook and Navy Pride</span></h3>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Did the Humble Heroes know their hat, their photos and their book would go to sea? Could they have imagined that 69 years after their war ended, and a decade plus after most of them passed on, a small recognition of them and their ship would board a 100,000 ton aircraft carrier via a tail hook landing and spend 24 hours at sea, yet again? I would think not. But it happened.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">For the second time in 13 months, I had the distinct privilege of being selected as part of a Navy program to host civilians aboard a ship at sea. Selected by the Distinguished Visitors Program, I was part of a group of 15 writers, bloggers and social media executives that spent a phenomenal 24 hours aboard one of America’s most famous ships, USS Carl Vinson CVN70, the ship of Top Gun and the burial of Osama Bin Laden. As I did with my Embark to the USS Spruance DDG111, I took the Nashville hat, the Humble Heroes book and a few photos of the Nashville crew</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We spent several hours at Naval Air Station North Island in Coronado being briefed on naval aviation and what to expect for the next 24 hours, as intense, action packed, exhilarating and informative 24 hours as could possibly be anticipated. Our expectations individually and collectively were high, the reality would blow them away.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We boarded one of the Navy's most reliable aircraft, the C2 Greyhound COD (Cargo Onboard Delivery), a 50 year old design. Noisy, “greasy” in the words of the pilot, utilitarian, built for safety not comfort, with but two salad plate size windows, she was anything but glamorous. We boarded by way of the tail ramp and entered a world of exposed wires, cables and well-worn functional seats…facing backwards. Secured tightly by our three-point safety belts, our hands free since carrying anything lose like a camera would result in that object becoming a projectile during the tail hook landing, unable to communicate by voice due to the noise of the massive 8-blade turbojet props on the aircraft, we all smiled somewhat nervously and awaited our fate.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our tail hook landing, touching down at 105 mph and coming to a complete stop within 2 seconds, in less than 350 feet, was an event exciting enough to elicit a cheer and applause. But that was but the beginning of one sensory treat after another for the next 24 hours.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Immediately upon touchdown we taxied even as the wings began to fold up and soon the rear ramp opened, flooding the cramped and dark interior with brilliant sunlight and the teeth jarring noise of F-18 SuperHornets landing and catapulting off the ship just yards away. One of the last to board, I was the first off, met by a helmet and goggle wearing Air Transport Officer emerging from the light. He patted me on the shoulder, shook my hand and motioned for me to follow, as I did. Buffeted by a 25 knot wind we all stepped off the flight deck onto a grated catwalk with the fast moving ocean visible 70 feet below and then up a ladder and suddenly, we were in the quiet, paneled stateroom of the Captain, strong hot coffee, warm fresh baked cookies and cool refreshing water on the table for us. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We were warmly welcomed by Executive Officer Captain Walter “Sarge” Slaughter and then the captain of the ship, Captain Kent “Torch” Whalen. Their hospitality and transparency would be shared during our next 24 hours by every single crew we met, from the greenest Seaman fresh from boot camp to Rear Admiral David Steindl himself. We did not feel the least like unwelcome guests they had to endure, but like friends and family they were glad to see, all the while they went about their remarkably busy and stressful jobs.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A modern US Navy carrier is, outside of an ICBM launching nuclear submarine, the most powerful ship in the world. It can be at any location on the planet in 7 days, literally be underway for decades without refueling and deliver deadly, including nuclear, ordinance almost at will. As one officer stated, “4 1/2 acres of sovereign American territory off your coast gives one a reason to pause and reflect”. It does indeed.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We were enthralled by the power and technology of the ship and her weapons, including fighter jets, helicopters and missiles. I address those in other articles and posts. But what was most impressive and most relevant to the crew, families and readers of this Humble Heroes Blog, were the crew. There are over 5,000 people on the Carl Vinson when the Air Wing is aboard. And while the ship is massive, it is still an ocean going machine where people fit in and around the ship structure, not the other way around. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Crew quarters are crowded, cramped and functional with bunks stacked 3 high, 20-120 crew to a room, each with a blue curtain to provide a minute perception of privacy. The crew, as always seems to be the case historically, is young, average age but 20 years. To put that in perspective personally, I’ve been out of grad school 23 years and I believe my favorite baseball hat may be 20.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Over 40 new crew each week join the ship and each is graciously given 2 weeks of orientation before they are at their duty stations and responsible for their jobs and themselves. It is a generous and effective methodology for introducing new crew, many just out of boot camp, to the overwhelming and intimidating operations of a modern American carrier.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The American military is an all-volunteer force. Each volunteer has their own story and motivation for joining, their reasons ranging from wanting to see the world, get an education, and learn a trade to the most popular, patriotism. Not one of the crew had to join the navy and work 18 hours a day 6-7 days a week and be deployed away from loved ones for 8-10 months at a time. They chose this so remember that when someone questions the ability and commitment of America’s youth.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">While we, as a society, are accustomed to seeing teenagers walking down the street with their eyes focused on their cell phones, these young men and women get but 15 minutes of internet time each day, if they are lucky enough to find an open computer. And while we are used to seeing young people texting their friends who may be sitting next to them, the crew does not have cell phone coverage while at sea.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The crew of USS Nashville would find camaraderie and much in common with today's American sailor. Like the Nashville crew, these sailors make great sacrifices on a daily basis, shoulder stressful responsibility, depend on each other for their own safety, and perform dangerous jobs under sometimes extremely adverse conditions.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Pride, that is the word I think best describes them all. Of course the pilots are full of pride, they know they are an elite group and have about the coolest job in America. And the middle managers that really run a ship (or any organization), the Chief Petty Officers, take great pride in their job. But we also saw enormous pride from the mess staff that planned, prepared and served us our formal dinner that evening. These very young kids were absolutely joyful with pride and when we applauded their job well done, not a one could refrain from sharing their beaming smiles.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Next on Deck, Part 2: Whiskey 291 Operations</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>A Word About The Embark Process</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>The nomination process can take from a few days to three years starting from the time of nomination to vetting by the Navy and finally selection and embarkation to a ship at sea. Dennis Hall, founder of Avere Group LLC, made my embark possible via his nomination of me. Dennis Hall initially submitted my nomination to the Deputy Public Affairs Officer for the Commander, Naval Air Forces – Pacific, US Pacific Fleet for the Distinguished Visitors Program. #VinsonEmbark #Averegroup</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>I was privileged to be part of group of talented writers and executives. I highly recommend reading their blog posts on this phenomenal experience. You may even want to read their other blog posts.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://californiaoyinbo.blogspot.com/">http://californiaoyinbo.blogspot.com</a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://jer979.com/igniting-the-revolution/vinson1/">Clarity of Communication-Lessons on Management from the USS Carl Vinson<span style="color: #801b80; letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://californiaoyinbo.blogspot.com/2014/01/january-26-2014-post-embark-different.html?view=magazine">http://californiaoyinbo.blogspot.com/2014/01/january-26-2014-post-embark-different.html?view=magazine</a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://jer979.blogspot.com/2014/01/life-on-carrier-its-about-sailors.html">http://jer979.blogspot.com/2014/01/life-on-carrier-its-about-sailors.html<span style="color: #0433ff; letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></a></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://s.wisestamp.com/links?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpegfitzpatrick.com%2F2014%2F01%2F24%2Fnight-day-life-vs-life-navy%2F%3Futm_source%3Drss%26utm_medium%3Drss%26utm_campaign%3Dnight-day-life-vs-life-navy&sn=cGVnZ3lseW5mQGdtYWlsLmNvbQ%3D%3D">Night and Day: My Life vs. Life in the Navy<span style="color: #042eee; letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></a></span></div>
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Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-16347218130085201742013-03-20T22:16:00.000-07:002014-05-11T11:54:45.369-07:00<h2>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>THE GHOSTS OF USS NASHVILLE CL43 SPEND A DAY ABOARD USS SPRUANCE DDG111</b></span></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span>Recently I had the opportunity and honor of spending a day aboard one of America's newest warships, the Arleigh-Burke Class guided missle destroyer, USS Spruance DDG111, named after the famous Admiral Spruance of WWII Battle of Midway (and more) fame. There were several factors that led to my selection by the Navy to visit the ship including my work in the USCG Auxiliary, but the book <u>Humble Heroes</u> no doubt was the major reason. Below is a 7 part series that I wrote regarding my fascinating day aboard the Spruance, originally appearing in www.Techli.com, an online technology publisher.</div>
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The Spruance is a much different ship than the Nashville was of course, 70 years of technology and design evolution make a dramatic impact on a warship (or a car, airplane, radio, etc). As powerful as the Nashville was, the Spruance has almost infinitely more firepower and less than one-third of the number of sailors, many of them women. At almost the same tonnage, the Spruance is nearly 100 feet shorter and much more maneuverable. The Nashville men had to take "Navy" showers, often with seawater, the Spruance crew can take "Hotel" showers with fresh water, made daily by the ship itself. The technology and electronics would have stunned and amazed the Nashville crew. But they would have had more in common with the Spruance sailors than you might expect. </div>
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The Nashville crew would have recognized the tightly stacked crew bunks albeit without any "hotracking" necessary. They would have recognized the pitch and roll, the often narrow walkways, steep ladders, staggered sleeping hours and constant maintenance. My sense is they would have adjusted and felt at home in this new navy in quick manner. As it was, some of the Nashville crew were with me in a sense. I carried in my bag the <u>Humble Heroes</u> book to present to the Captain, my Nashville hat and a collection far more significant. In my small leather notebook, tucked carefully into a pocket, were photos of my dad George Bustin, Patrick Carigan, Don Hill, Bob Bonnell, Fred Clinton Hewell Jr., Joe Venaglia and more. On that day, in some form I leave to you to decide, they were all youthful sailors and Marines again, together, shipmates at sea.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAYDK_T22pAWpblfWb092hsnzhv6NSdcof3dO-ryN7tcQkwyCUJcKLTzCRewo0kvBo102nHtcF1AoRhS8WNFu1HteKP8VsJvXsTLcqfDs1e7vP-E_C23XKu7wqdtr2qC7u7IIe0sicjc/s1600/IMG_4337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAYDK_T22pAWpblfWb092hsnzhv6NSdcof3dO-ryN7tcQkwyCUJcKLTzCRewo0kvBo102nHtcF1AoRhS8WNFu1HteKP8VsJvXsTLcqfDs1e7vP-E_C23XKu7wqdtr2qC7u7IIe0sicjc/s320/IMG_4337.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 1: How Did I Get Here?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">How did I get here? I am standing on the rolling, wet, steel deck of a state of the art billion dollar war machine loaded with more advanced technology than most of us in the high tech industry will ever get close to, at least knowingly. I am the ‘media tech’ representative so to speak of a team of seven recognized leaders selected to participate in the Navy’s “Leaders to Sea” program. The program embarks influential business, community and government opinion leaders to underway US Navy surface ships via a Navy Seahawk helicopter. It is a highly valued and sought after nomination and I am more than thrilled and honored to be selected. Other participants have backgrounds in systems engineering, economic development, public policy, real estate and winemaking. An eclectic, accomplished and engaging group with curious minds and a sense of adventure.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The selection process can take from three months to three years starting from the time of nomination (thank you Dennis Hall of Avere Group and Susan Etlinger of Altimeter) to vetting by the Navy and finally selection and embarkation to a ship at sea. Besides the “leader” qualification there were others: we had to be physically able to spend the day going up and down steep ladders both inside and outside the ship as we pitched about in the sea, be reasonably comfortable with confined spaces, not have any serious medical conditions, wear appropriate shoes and clothing and carry nothing more than a small bag for personal effects such as a camera. Additionally, we had to sign a waiver. I did and no, I didn’t read it.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As an entrepreneur with a few successful startups in my past, a writer, historian and sailor, I was particularly interested in the technology of the ship not only in terms of weapons and propulsion but also in terms of crew living conditions and internet access. The Spruance was a new ship, in fact the newest destroyer in the navy, commissioned October 1, 2011. A new state of the art ship is like a startup in many ways, albeit a billion dollar startup. Everything is new, technology is cutting edge, systems are constantly being tested and the highly trained people that make it all happen do multiple jobs under pressure with intermittent and irregular sleeping hours.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I wanted to learn about the technology of the ship and was curious as to how much information the captain and crew would share with us, how much access we would have to that technology and simply, what could we photograph and what was forbidden. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The weather in San Diego was, by Southern California standards, just short of miserable for several days before our embark. It rained, it was cool, it was windy, and it rained again and again. I said to the doorman at my downtown San Diego hotel “I’ve never seen weather this bad in San Diego” and he replied “Neither have I sir”. The night before the scheduled embark, I was concerned the event would be cancelled due to weather, but the forecast was for partially clearing skies. Our point of embarkation would be the Naval Air Station (NAS) on Coronado Island in San Diego Bay and I needed to be at the designated parking lot on the other side of Coronado no later than 6:15AM. No problem.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 2: Embark and Landing at Sea</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I arrived at the parking lot at 5:40AM and within ten minutes five others did the same. Within moments a navy Master Chief in the new navy camouflage uniform approached us and had us drive our cars past a Marine guarded gate into a secure area. Soon, we were in a van to the headquarters of the US Navy Naval Surface Forces, Pacific where we had an orientation meeting and group photo. Quickly we were back into the van and within minutes arrive at NAS on the other side of the island.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We entered a nondescript one story building where we anxiously looked out to the tarmac at a row of Seahawk helicopters, wondering which would be our ride. In less than five minutes one taxied to within fifty yards of the building and a pilot and crewman climbed out of the aircraft and came into the building to speak with us. What we got was a professional, routine, concise and clear pre-underway checklist of things to do, not do and expect. What we felt was anything but routine. None of us had ever flown on a helicopter and we were about to take off and fly about 100 miles due west into the Pacific and land on the small flight deck of a destroyer underway. We were issued helmets, life jackets and airsickness bags. Part of our orientation was what to do in case of a water landing, more specifically, what to do when the helicopter turns upside down (the craft is top loaded due to the weight of the engine) and fills with water. While my brain listened intently to the instructions regarding finding an orientation point to hang on to, releasing the seat belt, opening the door or window and exiting to float to the surface, my mind was envisioning very dark and disturbing thoughts. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We had the opportunity to take a few photos and then, in single file, walked out to board the helicopter. I was lucky, I had the coveted ‘gunner’s seat’, an outward facing seat right behind the pilot with my own window. In fact, I was told to enter the helicopter by climbing through that window. The real fun was about to begin. The Seahawk is the Navy version of the more famous Blackhawk helicopter. It has a twin turboshaft engine, generally has a crew of 3-4 and can carry an additional 6 or more passengers. This is a versatile workhorse, capable of flying over 500 miles, carrying a myriad of weapons from torpedoes (yes, torpedoes!), missiles and machine guns. I didn’t ask about gas mileage but at 17,000 pounds loaded, it probably is something less than a Prius.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It was loud but in an exhilarating way. We slowly lifted off the ground without any sensation of movement, continued to gain altitude and the helicopter’s nose dipped just a little as we headed out to sea. I expected more vibration and bouncing but the ride was quite smooth and comfortable in the unsettled weather, albeit a little chilly.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">About 40 minutes into the trip we started to descend, closer and closer to the white caps on the water. It was only during the last 10 seconds that I saw what we were landing on, a pitching and rolling flight deck of a ship making about 14 knots. Once the flight crew had us literally chained to the flight deck, we were led off the helicopter, across the edge of the deck, into the hanger and then into the Ward Room where the Captain, Executive Officer and Master Chief greeted us with smiles and hot, strong coffee. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Captain gave us a thorough orientation of the day’s activities and encouraged us to ask any questions at any time to any person on any topic. You can’t expect more than that and our group started with questions covering all topics including technology, weapons, and even internet access. All questions were promptly and enthusiastically answered. This Navy of ours is a very open, transparent and engaging organization. Not a single question went unanswered, not a single request unfulfilled.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The weather outside had taken a turn towards the decidedly uncomfortable and when the Ensign assigned to conduct our tour said we could stay inside rather than venture out, the group answered that we didn’t care about getting wet, we wanted to go out on deck, and so we did. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qUw7mAFTz2I0lGCDxnD-wYJNGxm6sDjOzx5b455z2AFZb6TN__t3zPCgbFBK3Xh5JLYlwRTndgLtMhDu6WBLXm-JbmlCUsZvSwT1aQIwKlo2dhq6KuAYz3lmyACge2-gAuMqfgu54_k/s1600/IMG_1976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qUw7mAFTz2I0lGCDxnD-wYJNGxm6sDjOzx5b455z2AFZb6TN__t3zPCgbFBK3Xh5JLYlwRTndgLtMhDu6WBLXm-JbmlCUsZvSwT1aQIwKlo2dhq6KuAYz3lmyACge2-gAuMqfgu54_k/s320/IMG_1976.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 3: Civilians On Deck, and Everywhere Else</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As we began our tour we were clearly reminded of what we were told before we entered the ship but had all but forgotten; the interior of the ship is pressurized, like an aircraft. You open a hatch, enter a small area that will hold at most 8 or 9 people, in some cases only 2-3, close the hatch behind you and then open the other hatch to enter or exit the interior. Why? It prevents a very large, thick, heavy steel door from giving you a major body slam and breaking multiple parts of your body, likely starting with your nose. The difference in pressure, although it is only 2 PSI, is enough to do that. We all quickly became experts in hatch protocol.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The interior is pressurized as a defense against chemical, biological or nuclear agents. In fact, the exterior structure of the ship is covered in sprinklers, giving her the ability to completely wash herself down with sea water and then fresh water in the event of any such type of attack. Like all great plans, inventions and intentions, there are unintended consequences and the pressurization of the ship is no exception. An unplanned but very positive effect of the pressurization is that every time those hatches are used to exit the interior, minute particles of dust and dirt get blown out. The result is an exceptionally clean ship, complimenting the work of the crew in that area. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We left the interior and followed the Ensign to the forward deck. Walking out on deck, the first thing that you notice is the wind, most of it generated by the speed of the ship. Second, you notice that walking towards the bow is decidedly uphill. We gathered around the 5” gun near the bow. The size refers to the diameter of the projectile. The gun fires 6 different types of ammunition (multiple surface to air and surface to surface shells) and is fully automated. Going to the bow, you step around the chains of not one, but two anchors. The main anchor is 4,000 pounds and it is not the anchor itself that holds the ship, it is the anchor chain which weighs even more. The second anchor is the “hurricane” anchor, it weighs 5,000 pounds and is angled off the port side due to the Coriolis effect (clockwise movement) of hurricanes in the northern hemisphere. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">With a little rain and wind battering us, we then proceed down the port side of the ship to amidships, climb up a ladder, walk towards the stern, go up another ladder and get an overview from the Ensign of the machinery just above our heads, more accurately the machine gun above our heads. And not just any machine gun. Sometimes affectionately referred to as “R2D2” due to a distinctive shape, the CIWS Gatling gun is an automated anti-missile weapon capable of firing 75 rounds of 20mm armor piercing rounds a second. Yes, 75 a second...4,500 rounds a minute. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The weather continues unabated and we neither much notice nor care. We traverse back down the ladders, into the outer walkway of the ship, through one of the two helicopter hangers and then back out, this time onto the flight deck, the one we landed on that morning. Besides a gray sea with our beautiful teal blue wake cutting through it, we see the 2 sets of MK46 Triple Torpedo Tube Launchers, defense against enemy submarines. There is a lot of firepower on this destroyer and we haven’t even seen the real cool stuff yet, but we have seen it’s home, multiple rows of missile tubes fore and aft abound. And we can’t wait to see what we can do with those.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 4: Deep Below Deck, Propulsion and Power</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We requested a tour of the engine room and in true Navy fashion, they agreed and then offered a pre-emptive apology if any of us felt uncomfortable since some find it claustrophobic. Engine room is of course, a misnomer. The four engines and connected technology cover several rooms and levels of decks, as clean and spotless as a hospital operating room. Amid multi-story steel grid walkways, an unending labyrinth of fuel and fluids pipes, color coded valves, instrument panels, and noise (we are wearing hearing protection) we see in an enclosed steel container with a viewing window, of all things, a jet engine? Indeed, a jet engine and not just any jet engine. A Rolls Royce jet engine, almost gold in color, it appears like an extraterrestrial alien power source. The engines are gas turbine engines, essentially jet engines and each enclosed in their own container that not only keeps it pristine clean, but would contain any fire that might occur. In fact, much of the entire multi-level engine has it’s components enclosed for just that purpose. It is a safety design that could mean the difference between a devastating, fatal (to both crew and ship) fire and a fire that damages but a single engine component. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There are two very large, long shafts that we have been walking above, below and next to, noticing the warning signs. These are the two propeller shafts, the pieces of equipment that transfer the energy of the engines to the propellers that drive (technically, pull) the ship through the water. You see no oil, no fluids, no blemishes of any type on them. All you see is a white, rapidly spinning shaft, slightly angled down and passing through a bulkhead, operating silently.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There is something missing in this enormous, multi-story piece of Borg technology driving the 9,200 ton Spruance through seas at a top speed of 32 knots (officially but bet your stock options it does much more). It is people. Save for our group and the Ensign, there are no people here, none. The Engineering group and all of their pervasive monitoring equipment (leave a hatch partially open anywhere on the ship and Engineering knows it immediately) is in a different part of the ship. Yes, the crew does spend time in the engine room but it is not a necessity on a constant basis.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As we have seen all about the ship, we see here in the engine section, a number of small red cases bolted about the bulkheads, stenciled EBD. These are Emergency Breathing Devices. In the event of flooding these devices can provide a few moments of life-saving air to the crew, giving them more time to hopefully escape any flooded compartment. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">After being deep into the bowels of the ship we make out way topside again where we noticed the seas had become a little more dynamic in the past hour, something we did not feel at all being so near the bottom of the ship. Next, we will make our way several stories up for yet another unique experience.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 5: At The Helm, Seriously?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Captain on the Bridge!” shouted a sailor as the Captain and our Ensign took us to the Bridge of the ship, high above the deck. If the engine compartment was the muscle of the ship, this was the Mind... on a case of Red Bull. All communications and information flowed through the Bridge, loaded with tons of cutting edge technology; radar, sonar, satellite communications, weather systems, weapons systems, propulsion systems, classified detection systems worthy of science fiction, and more. All ship functions could be controlled from the Bridge with redundant locations deeper within the beast in the event the bridge and its personnel are damaged or destroyed. At first I did not notice, but there were quite a few women on the bridge of this warship, young women, well-educated, highly trained, confident, commanding people. In today’s Navy, 20% of the personnel are women. I suspect that percentage may well increase in the near future. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Who wants to take the helm?” the Captain asked us. Seriously? The helm? Drive this billion dollar ship? There was no shortage of hands going up and I got my opportunity. I grabbed the sports car sized wheel and awaited a command. The Helmsman stood close to my left, a tall, good looking sailor no more than 23 years old, both of us looking at a screen showing course, speed, true and magnetic north, true wind, apparent wind and some other data I did not comprehend. We were not looking out the bridge, past the bow to the sea, others did that for us. My eyes instead were focused on the array of constantly changing digital information displayed before me.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Pointing to a young Lieutenant about 10 feet in front of me the Helmsman said “Sir, she would give you a command and you will need to acknowledge the command”.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Got it” I replied, both hands steady on the helm, my eyes reading the instruments, a smile forming on my disbelieving face, noting we were doing 14 knots on a Lee Helm. We were about to do a man overboard drill, a rapid series of maneuvers where we go hard and fast, crossing back over our own wake, and then come to a full stop to save the poor soul in the water. It must be done in under 8 minutes or the probability of rescue and survival diminishes precipitously. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Suddenly the Lieutenant shouts out “Hard right rudder!” and I reply “Hard right rudder, aye!” as I make the sharp, almost violent turn to starboard. My Helmsman says “Now, hard right rudder means...” and I interrupt him with “035 degrees correct?”. He brightens with a huge smile and says “Yes, very good sir, keep going!” and I do.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Next the Lieutenant shouts out “Come to course Two Seven Zero!” and I reply “Two Seven Zero, Aye!” as I turn hard to the new course and just as we reach 260 degrees I start to straighten the wheel out so that we ease right onto 270 degrees without oversteering (my Coast Guard Auxiliary Coxswain training is coming in handy). My man is now smiling almost to the point of laughter and says “Very nice sir, you know this!”. Steering the ship is easy, she is amazingly responsive, far more so than the average family sedan. I cannot discern any lag or hesitation between my changing course and the bow pointing in the new direction. She is instantaneously responsive.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As we approach the target crew are shouting out information, “4 minutes!”, “5 minutes!”, “1,000 yards!”, “700 yards!”. It is a symphony of commands and information. What happens next surprises me. “Full reverse!” shouts the Lieutenant. We are near full speed and the order has been given to go into full reverse? My first thought is you have to go to neutral, slow and then reverse but no, not with this technology. The ship goes to full reverse, we begin to slow immediately and we come to a full stop, dead in the water, right on target in less than 3 ship lengths, 1,500 feet. Impressive. As it turns out, the engine never really goes into reverse. The ship stops or runs in reverse because the propellers are angled and feathered to do so, the engine, the shafts do not reverse themselves. Now that is impressive technology.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I didn’t think anything on the Spruance could be cooler than steering her, but we were about to experience an hour that would come close.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 6: Star Trek (CIC)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As we had walked about the deck forward and aft, we noticed row after row of hatches and assumed these were missile silos. We assumed correctly. The Spruance carries multiple types of missiles for multiple types of targets. Total inventory? That would be 96 missiles, officially. An incredible amount of destructive firepower against hostile submarines, surface ships, aircraft, missiles and land based targets.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One of our group boldly asked “So do we get to shoot any weapons, maybe a missile?” only half in hopeful jest. We all laughed since we shared that same absurd thought.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“No, I can’t let you do that unfortunately although I would if I could” replied our Ensign. I believed him. “But we are going to do the next best thing. First, let’s go back to the Wardroom where you can leave your cameras because where we are going there are no cameras gentlemen”. This would be the first and only time we were restricted in any manner whatsoever. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Combat Information Center (CIC) is located deep within the ship. If the Bridge is the Mind of the ship, the CIC is the Brain. Reference the movie “Battleship” (which featured destroyers identical to the Spruance) and you have some idea of the space. The CIC is what a hard core geek man cave might look like if such a geek had the Pentagon’s budget. In reality, it was more like Star Trek in it’s sophistication. Amid near darkness and brightly lit colorful computer screens, blinking lights, low ceilings, people with headsets looking intently at scores of computer screens and a sense of isolation, we were given our instructions and handed off to individual crew for our assignments. The drill scenario was that we were in the Persian Gulf and under attack by air, sea and sub-surface forces. I had air defense duty and was assisted by a Lieutenant with 18 years of navy service, a man who proudly had advanced through the enlisted ranks to become a Lieutenant. He loved the navy and his job, his enthusiasm as palpable as our excitement.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our group sat at assigned consoles and received hands-on training and assignments, some to fire torpedoes at enemy submarines, others missiles at ships and others still, missiles or R2D2 at enemy missiles that breached the defensive perimeter. I did the same and suddenly felt overwhelmed by the variety and number of incoming bad guys (bogies). </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I targeted an incoming aircraft and then heard a hearty “Yes!” shouted out to my right as one of my group fired a missile at my target and got a quick kill. As I identified targets and sent the orders to engage, other group members were taking those orders and firing their weapons. It was like a movie, lots of colored triangles moving towards us from all corners of the screen, information as to type of weapon, speed, warhead, etc. coded under each symbol.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“How many bogies can the system track simultaneously?” I asked the Lieutenant.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Track? An indefinite number” he smiled.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“OK, how many missiles can I order to be fired at once” I asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“That is classified, but you see all those bogies on your screen?” he asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Yes sir” I said.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“We can simultaneously have a missile in the air for each one of them, plus more” he explained proudly. There must have been at least 30 to 40 incoming bogies on my screen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The system was programmed to send one missile and then quickly, another for each target selected. The system then either confirms a kill or orders up two more missiles. While all of it was automated, it was under human control and the crew had the final say on each action.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Time and space were compressed. It seemed like 15 minutes but in reality, an hour. When we finished we all momentarily looked at each other thinking, ‘did we just do that’? Smiles all around, from us and our gracious hosts. We felt we were in on a secret, somehow we were in the club. We drove the ship, we fired the missiles, we were satiated with navy coolness, what more could there be? That would be a first class meal in the Ward Room followed by more weapons and real uncertainty about going home as planned.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PART 7: Food, Guns and Taco Tuesday</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Lunch was in the Wardroom, attended by both officers and enlisted crew, one placed between each of us for easy conversation. I had the privilege of sitting next to the Executive Officer (XO) who was next to the Captain at the head of the long table. The food was as good as the outstanding service: prime rib, fresh wrapped asparagus, roasted potatoes, hot rolls, cake drizzled with a chocolate sauce.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Captain” I said, “Do you eat this well every day?”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“We do” he replied, “the presentation isn’t always this fancy, but we do eat well”.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Except today is normally ‘Taco Tuesday’ so the crew is wondering why they have prime rib today” said the XO. “They are probably wondering what we are going to ask them to do” he smiled.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Yes, the last time we changed the regular menu we had a last minute run to San Francisco for Fleet Week” said the Captain.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At the end of lunch I presented the Captain with my book (Humble Heroes, How The USS Nashville CL43 Fought WWII) for the ship’s library. Genuinely appreciative, he thanked me and took notice of my personalized note to the crew using the ship’s motto, “Launch the attack!”, the orders that Admiral Spruance issued during the Battle of Midway in WWII. The Ward Room displays the Admiral’s dress uniform and a copy of the orders.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">After our meal we toured more of the ship including one of the helicopter hangers that had become a makeshift gym for the crew, including weights and what was a source of amusement for us, treadmills. Why the amusement? One dedicated sailor was running at a good pace on a treadmill but as the ship rolled substantially from side to side, the sailor was in turn running decidedly downhill and uphill with each roll. I imagine it was an acquired skill to stay upright.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our tour for the day ended in the original helicopter hanger where we started. Here we were shown yet more weapons, in this case, of the close range and hand held variety. Displayed on the deck before us was an array of guns including the tried and true .50 caliber mounted machine gun, assault rifles, a shotgun and a handgun. One might think that after seeing high technology weapons of some seriously massive destruction, we would not be enamored by these close range standards. One would be wrong. A proud young female sailor talked about the capabilities of each weapon, told us when they would be used (when docking generally) and literally handed them to us for the tactile experience. We were all grown men, all successful adults, and we were like kids discovering their first Luke Skywalker Lightsaber.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The seas were getting rougher, the wind kicking up, the ship noticeably pitching and rolling more as we awaited our ride home, a SeaHawk helicopter like the one we arrived on that morning. However, there was real uncertainty regarding landing on the small deck in such sea conditions. We were told that in the event it was too dangerous, they had already made accommodations for us to stay the night in the crew quarters. Looking at each other, we burst into smiles and agreed we would welcome such an opportunity. But the pilot did indeed land on that moving deck, perfectly as it was and soon we were on our way back to San Diego. It is safe to say we all gave our day a great deal of thought upon our return. The weapons technology was impressive but no more so than the design and functioning of the ship itself. Most impressive was of course the officers and crew, highly trained, seriously focused, dedicated men and women. From a distance, the untrained eye would not discern this ship from any other they have seen in the past 50 years, a haze gray ship with a large superstructure, a couple of smokestacks and a big gun on the bow. But in reality, this ship, from design to engineering, from weapons to environmental sensitivity, is much closer to a spacecraft than a Vietnam Era warship. And somehow, as much as we saw, I strongly suspect there were even cooler, more advanced technologies at work, unseen by us and perhaps most of the crew. One wonders. Go Navy!</span></div>
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Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-37858188972352000542012-12-13T08:12:00.000-08:002012-12-13T08:12:37.260-08:00<h2>
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kamikaze, Men, Heroes</span></b></h2>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">At some point it becomes difficult to continue, to write about an event. At some point, you feel that no matter what and how you write, it will be inadequate in terms of justice to the significance of the event, to the degree of the horror, the pervasiveness of extreme heroism. At such a point, it is best to simply state a few facts and trust that the humanity of the reader will be enough.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On December 13, 1944, 68 years ago today, a Japanese plane armed with two bombs, piloted by a Kamikaze pilot of the 201st Air Group, Shimpu Attack Unit, Mabalact Airfield, Philippines, crashed into the Nashville at almost 500 miles an hour.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Impact, explosion of the bombs, explosions of the ready-ammo on deck, fires, all in seconds. Some men’s bodies were instantly vaporized, some torn into two, three, four pieces by the blast or shrapnel, some shredded by hundreds of pieces of hot, small shrapnel, some burned instantly, some far too slowly. 190 men were wounded, 133 died. Uncounted was the common acts of heroism, to save shipmates, to save the ship. Men rushed through 70 foot flames, into exploding ammunition, to rescue crew-mates or fight fires. Others stayed at their duty stations searching the sky for another Kamikaze while Nashville held her place in line. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I can tell you this, the look in the eyes of the crew that relayed this event to me was different than anything else I had seen from them. Nothing was ever the same for the men of the Nashville.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">List courtesy of William R. Parker, son of Nashville Marine PFC William L. Parker, who was wounded in the attack:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl William J. Clement</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl Dale N. Fielder</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Raymond J. Jollicouer</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Williard B. Limbaugh</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PCF Peter M. Liska, Jr.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl James P. Nelson</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC William L. Parker</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sgt Paul J. Reilly</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC harold W. Strus</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Charles E. William</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Ralph G. Acosta</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Ellsworth P. Montgomery</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC William C. Randle</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Donald E. Bielfuss</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Eldon E. Buckner Jr.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Jesse L. Clay</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC James N. Constant</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Donald DeBruyn</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl Leslie D. Edwards</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Denzel J. Faubion</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Julian Gonko</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Robert W. Grisham</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC John R. Kohl</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Gazel P. Koren</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC David D. Kottler</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl Lyle E. Mahoney</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Warren W. Marshall</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Donald J. McMullen</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl Frederick M. Peir</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Dominic R. Pellicino Jr</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC James A. Richard</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Frank L. Schallmoser</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Harold W. Stiener</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Franklyn F. Thompson</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Cpl Robert L. Utton</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sgt Jerome J. Vallner</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">PFC Marion P. Young</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">An even greater number of sailors were wounded and killed.</span></div>
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Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-84361821965343835092012-11-23T19:16:00.001-08:002014-05-11T11:58:43.155-07:00<h2>
<b>HISTORY LEAVES US, AGAIN</b></h2>
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This past week I received notice of more Humble Heroes that very recently passed away: Joseph Daniel Marion, Kenneth Gail Henry and Patrick Carigan. Each of these men served with distinction, bravery, honor and as is so true of all of the Nashvillers I have met, great humbleness.
I was closest to Patrick. In fact, Patrick and his lovely wife Phyllis became good friends with my wife Gigi and me. Our familial friendship had historical root, Patrick was close friends with my Dad aboard the Nashville. They shared many a laugh during liberty in Australia and many, many stressful times during long months at sea under surface and air attacks by Japanese forces culminating in the Kamikaze attack of December 13, 1944 that killed 133 men and wounded another 190.<br />
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I first met Patrick in Nashville, Tennessee at my first ship’s reunion. I walked into the hotel’s reserved bar area where many a Nashviller and wife was chatting away over cocktails, telling stories all have heard and all were eager to share again. A tall, stately looking gentleman across the room caught my eye. He seemed to be starring at me with a look of recognition, like he was surprised and happy to see me. He slowly walked across the crowded room towards me, a glide more than a walk, as his gaze never left me. With a resonant, warm voice of affection, he said “You’re George Bustin’s son aren’t you?”
“Yes sir, I am” I replied, rather stunned as no one but the head of the reunion association, Marine Don Hill, knew I was coming to the event.
“Well, I loved your Dad and can remember many a night when he entertained us on watch with his harmonica, he played all the great tunes of the day” Patrick said in that eloquent, drawn out Kentucky dialect.
And with that, our friendship commenced with neither hesitation nor reservation.<br />
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He was extremely helpful in providing information for the book, genuinely kind, considerate and generous to my Mom, Uncle Charlie and wife Gigi. An intelligent and charming man, brave and unassuming, he was the epitome of a Humble Hero. Patrick, we loved you and will miss you.
With the passing of Joseph, Kenneth and Patrick, and the others that have gone before, we all have less in our lives. But we are all better off for the way their lived theirs.<br />
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Joseph, Kenneth and Patrick, we all owe you a debt that cannot be paid, thank you for your service and your sacrifice.
Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-20203296787194999802012-07-01T09:37:00.001-07:002012-07-01T09:37:43.436-07:00Steven Bustin - The Independent Author Network<a href="http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/steven-bustin.html#.T_B8yVB4R-c.blogger">Steven Bustin - The Independent Author Network</a>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-84293572139868522062012-04-16T21:53:00.001-07:002012-04-17T07:00:05.292-07:00The Doolittle Raid, 70 Years AgoThe 70th anniversary of the famous Doolittle Raid is tomorrow April 18th. The surviving Doolittle Raiders; Lt. Col. Richard E. Cole, Lt. Col. Robert L. Hite. Lt. Col. Edward J. Saylor, Maj. Thomas C. Griffin and Master Sgt. David J. Thatcher are expected to appear at the reunion April 17-20 at Wright Patterson AFB in Dayton Ohio.
For the first time there will be a private Chinese representative, Hu Dixian of Zhejian, China, the daughter of Liu Li Senlin who helped one of the Doolittle Raiders in China.
At least twenty five surviving B-25s will fly in for the event, the largest gathering of the venerable bomber since the War. More than 25,000 people are also expected to attend what Aviation Online Magazine is reporting as the last Raiders reunion. However, I have not found any other information that states this is the last reunion. I believe the reunions will continue in some form until all of these brave men are gone.
These iconic heroes, all men in their 90s, are living American history. Sometime on April 18th they will stand at attention before a simple but elegant display case of 80 silver goblets, each engraved with the name of a Doolittle Raider. In fact, each name is engraved twice, one for reading right side up and the other, for those that have passed, to be read when the goblet is turned upside down. Seventy five are upside down. Lt. Col. Richard Cole, 96, will say “To those who have gone” to be repeated by the others together, as one, “To those who have gone.”
There were eight Raiders captured by the Japanese, three of whom were executed, a fourth died in a Japanese prison camp, three more died attempting to reach landing fields in China and another ten died later in the war. Two who survived were shot down over Germany and met each other in the German camp Stalag Luft III, the camp depicted in the movie “The Great Escape”.
Recently, I have had the distinct privilege of corresponding with Jonna Hoppes Doolittle, the granddaughter of Colonel Doolittle. She has written “Calculated Risk: The Extraordinary Life of Jimmy Doolittle” and “Just doing My Job: Stories of Service From World War II”, both excellent books. She is now reading “Humble Heroes, How The USS Nashville Cl43 Fought WWII.”
We must never forget, not only the men of the Doolittle Raiders, but the very reason they made their sacrifice and what it ultimately means to all Americans as well as those that continue to fight for freedom. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDp3wSDhIDvdOPe37eQ8qsjlMkeG9H10ZMeHfpJ8EWAv1DPGzZqWb46WF5_2Sjg7r2vaQdv-jkfRzyf_szdmrv2VTPY3gc8IbCkz8Bu37_5Zjvimiv9OdBV2XZXaCUN7D4wHEZSLH5E4/s1600/b25-flightdeck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="229" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDp3wSDhIDvdOPe37eQ8qsjlMkeG9H10ZMeHfpJ8EWAv1DPGzZqWb46WF5_2Sjg7r2vaQdv-jkfRzyf_szdmrv2VTPY3gc8IbCkz8Bu37_5Zjvimiv9OdBV2XZXaCUN7D4wHEZSLH5E4/s320/b25-flightdeck.jpg" /></a></div>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-2415793042462617272012-03-15T14:19:00.001-07:002012-03-15T14:21:54.017-07:00Connections Unforeseen“Humble Heroes, How The USS Nashville CL43 Fought WWII” was published almost 5 years ago. Yet, rarely does a week go by when I do not hear from a son, granddaughter or nephew of one of the Nashville crew. On occasion it is because the Humble Hero had recently passed away and the loved one is reaching out for information or giving thanks. At times, it is from someone not connected to the ship or crew and they are kind enough to take the time to write how much they enjoyed the book. But most often is when a loved one first becomes aware that there is a book about the USS Nashville. This happens frequently after the Humble Hero has passed and family is clearing out personal belongings. These cases are particularly moving and rewarding as I have been told it allows people to feel closer in some ways to each other and a father, grandfather or uncle as it may be. <br />
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One particular case exemplifies this and provides some insight as to why I feel I have received so much from others. A call came in one day from a woman who’s husband served aboard the Nashville. He had recently passed away and had left a very large family that included many grandchildren, a close family that always spent holidays together. That first Thanksgiving for them was very sad indeed, as you would expect. In fact, it was painful enough that they considered not having a big Christmas that year as they had always done. But this woman’s daughter started searching on the Internet for anything related to the USS Nashville. This is very common in such losses. In her searches, she came across the book. Again, this is common, but what happened next is not. She ordered and received the book and immediately opened it, not to the beginning but to the middle, a random page. On that page was a photograph of several unnamed Nashville crew on liberty in Australia. One of them was her grandfather. Imagine, just imagine how she felt, the loss, still oppressive and raw, and she sees that photo. That is what prompted the call from her widowed mother.<br />
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The woman told me that when they discovered the book and that page, they decided to go on with a large family Christmas that year and that each of the grandkids was given a gift of the book so they could know and remember what their grandfather did at one point in his life. The kids read parts of it aloud and shared the discovery at Christmas. The woman told me “Thank you, the book saved Christmas for us and made it very special for our family”. <br />
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Life rolls <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvSgPgZSA37KjqeSFCL_5ndHvYbIEc04iVc-WDRCFPOeMf7JMFrNhesWVVrXEA5-o70VQuLFsJJrESBqBqk6HaU_XFL7vEHnZdN5kfpaus6jUnHtavIQMRUdCHxn-WlB48_JmX6H5VYk/s1600/May+1+-+3%252C+2003_0112.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvSgPgZSA37KjqeSFCL_5ndHvYbIEc04iVc-WDRCFPOeMf7JMFrNhesWVVrXEA5-o70VQuLFsJJrESBqBqk6HaU_XFL7vEHnZdN5kfpaus6jUnHtavIQMRUdCHxn-WlB48_JmX6H5VYk/s320/May+1+-+3%252C+2003_0112.tif" /></a></div><br />
on but it is important to stop, think and feel those that went before us. An email just a few moments ago, advising me of another Nashviller passing this week, prompted me to do just that and write this entry.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-82538338764202201902012-03-12T16:51:00.001-07:002012-03-12T16:51:07.754-07:00Steven Bustin - The Independent Author Network$0.99 Kindle book on Amazon, How The USS Nashville Cl43 Fought WWII <a href="http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/steven-bustin.html#.T16LzhVjpY0.blogger">Steven Bustin - The Independent Author Network</a>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-64318932117402041522012-03-12T16:50:00.001-07:002012-03-12T16:50:26.090-07:00Steven Bustin - The Independent Author Network<a href="http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/steven-bustin.html#.T16Ltx03Mas.blogger">Steven Bustin - The Independent Author Network</a>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-26538845619126690262011-12-13T13:16:00.000-08:002011-12-13T13:16:42.749-08:00Kamikaze Devastates Nashville 67 Years Ago Today: Survivors Carry OnThis excerpt from the book was posted this day last year and I can not think of a reason not to repost today, 67 years to the day that a bomb-laden Kamikaze from Negros Island, Philippines forever altered the lives of the crew. A couple of men have called me today, a significant date in their lives. Many of the survivors still deal with injuries and trama almost 7 decades later. Casualties on a steel warhsip are particularly horrific with the ship itself becoming a dangerous weapon a steel, paint, ammunition and people are literally vaporized. Think for a moment of these brave men and the many others of that era and say thank you in whatever manner you may.<br />
<br />
This is a brief excerpt from the book:<br />
At 1457, just as the Nashville was coming about the southern end of Negros Island, steaming towards the Sulu Sea, sharp-eyed lookouts spotted a Val single engine plane at 5,000 feet just over the island off the starboard side of the ship. The crew thought the ship astern was the target and indeed it appeared that way from the dive path of the plane. Crewmembers were thinking, “Oh God, they are going to get it if that plane gets through.” But then in an instant the pilot banked so hard left that his wings were perpendicular to the water, and with that the fate of the Nashville and her crew was forever altered. Men watched in horror and disbelief as they could see bombs fastened on both wings as the plane bore down on them with every intention of killing as many of them as possible. Apparently aiming for the bridge, where nearly thirty officers and men were present, the tip of the right wing caught the end of a 40mm anti-aircraft gun port- side just aft and the plane slammed into the Nashville amidships at 400 miles an hour with an instant and powerful impact. The ship violently bolted and shuddered, the first evidence for the crew below decks that something had gone horribly wrong. The bomb on the right wing exploded ten feet above the port five-inch battery, sending a powerful shockwave and a deadly shrapnel spray across the deck, ripping through steel bulkheads, gun barrels, ammunition, decking, and human beings. The left wing broke loose and its bomb exploded ten feet above the starboard five-inch battery, shooting a violent concussion wave and hundreds of pieces of red-hot jagged shrapnel in all directions. Body parts, specks of flesh, fluids of both man and machine blew through doorways, along bulkheads, against men, and down hallways along much of the length of the ship. <br />
Aviation gasoline spewed forth soaking men, ammunition, guns, and everything else before exploding in a millisecond, sending flames more than seventy feet forward and higher than the ship’s smokestacks. Searing fires erupted from the foremast to the mainmast topside. The blast literally clogged the on deck blow intakes and momentarily knocked out the fires in the fireroom, but men like John. W. Bosier CMM ran topside, cleared the intakes, and relit the fires quickly.<br />
Fires also erupted on the second deck, in the #2 fireroom, uptakes on the third deck, and in the superstructure as high as the signal bridge. The burning aviation fuel then ignited a five-inch ready ammunition box portside causing more deadly explosions. Still, the horror continued as the fifty-caliber machine gun ammunition from the Japanese plane exploded as did some of the ship’s 20mm and 40mm ammunition, creating a deadly blast of bullets and shrapnel flying in all directions. <br />
The scene on deck was nothing short of pure horror surpassing a man’s worst nightmares. The Nashville was a vessel of death and destruction. Men were blown overboard. Men’s bodies were penetrated by jagged searing hot metal fragments, limbs were torn from torsos, torsos from trunks, and some simply disintegrated in the concussion and fire. The ship itself fared no better than the crew. Large five-inch guns were twisted like putty, melted and put out of commission as were 40mm and 20mm guns amidships, the thirty-six-inch searchlights simply ceased to exist, the teak decks were shredded like toothpicks, bulkheads crushed and burnt, paint seared off, gun barrels twisted like straws. <br />
A bomb or shell exploding on a ship kills and maims in multiple, horrible ways. The pressure of the blast itself attacks in a wave that crushes bodies, strips flesh and muscle from bone, and in some cases totally vaporizes human beings. It is not simply metal bomb fragments that also kill but the ship’s own metal pieces blasted into tiny fragments, even liquefied that then pass through a man’s body at hypersonic speed.<br />
The memory of the attack remained seared into the minds of the survivors for the rest of their lives. James D. Baccus was stationed in Turret 1 for general quarters. “We had just come back from the Mess Hall and I was sitting on the deck inside the turret, playing Backgammon, when the ship shook and there was one hell of a noise. I then looked through the scuttle hole in the deck of the turret, where the shell cases are ejected to the ship’s deck, and several sailors were crawling under the overhang for protection. They were bloody, some with legs and arms either gone or badly injured.” Most of the men James saw would not survive.<br />
“So many of my shipmates, some close friends dead and wounded. The wounds were so terrible, especially the burns,” remembered William Smith, Chief Shipfitter.<br />
Hugh D. Patrick and a buddy ran topside as soon as they realized what had happened and they immediately heard frantic pounding on a closed hatch. They opened the hatch and continued forward to see if they could help and then in essence rescued a doomed sailor. It was almost fifty years later that Frank Prentice tracked down Hugh to thank him for saving his life by opening that hatch.<br />
GM3c Alfonso Garcia Vejar had just left his station as he was relieved and went below deck to eat. The man that took his place was killed instantly. Alfonso was alive by sheer chance and fate.<br />
James Clark received a Purple Heart as a result of the attack, “I was stationed in a 40mm gun director with a guy named Johnson when the kamikaze attack occurred, the plane hit directly below us. Our gun crew, which was one level below and closer to the plane, was hit hard. Later, after all the fires were out I was back at my station and witnessed a Marine near the top of the ladder who was so badly wounded his body was just a heap and his clothing was smoldering. I didn’t know how this man could be alive. When a Marine officer approached him he held out his hand and said, ‘help me sir.’ I know that Marine officer has had many nightmares about that incident and I can still see it.”<br />
The blast blew men into bulkheads, across the deck and through doorways. Ed Roiek MM1 was blown clear through two doorways yet managed to survive.<br />
“I was told to switch the shift with one of my shipmates,” said Maury Jack Wood, Ship Cook 1c. “The kamikaze hit the ship where a shipmate took my shift. He was killed and it should have been me. I will never forget this as long as I live. I have shared this information with my family.”<br />
Those that were below decks were lucky and they knew it. John J. Cotton SK2c said, “I am here because I was in a repair party below decks.” <br />
Young Edward “Bulldog” Remler rushed into the overcrowded Sick Bay to help the doctors and medics any way he could. Wounded, dead, and dieing were piling up in the corridor as if they were coming off an assembly line. Horribly mangled men all about, screams of agony, groans, vomiting, blood mixed with body fluids of all sorts pooling up to his ankles, the sound of anti-aircraft guns firing and exploding ammunition decks above him formed a Kaleidoscope memory in his mind, never to fully leave him. Incredibly, there was another memory to return even more forcefully in his future. Bulldog had to hold men down while limbs were amputated, sometimes without full anesthesia. After the first amputation the doctor told him to take the severed leg of a sailor. Bulldog burst out, “What do you want me to do with it?” and was promptly told to toss it into a corner where others were beginning to form a sizeable pile. Nearly fifty years later, at one of the ship’s reunions, he spotted a one-legged man in a wheelchair, someone he had not seen at any prior reunion. It was of course that first sailor he held. They became fast friends and at times traveled together on vacations and to reunions.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfQMMwCE7B3JOsDmxfZtxUPw-ZBTjQdSLE5FAATFNU_SWFft8TWnboTj0qTq0BgfYW54hp3IrhKKW7-ObmgW-lRwOsKkZrmrGqnWMzUpRPlawYoh13NWfl2dAAYPVZTPDRFvpxIWNS-g/s1600/US_Navy_15.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfQMMwCE7B3JOsDmxfZtxUPw-ZBTjQdSLE5FAATFNU_SWFft8TWnboTj0qTq0BgfYW54hp3IrhKKW7-ObmgW-lRwOsKkZrmrGqnWMzUpRPlawYoh13NWfl2dAAYPVZTPDRFvpxIWNS-g/s320/US_Navy_15.tif" /></a></div>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-49714506412813235642011-12-04T15:01:00.000-08:002011-12-05T07:04:08.930-08:00Pearl Harbor Day and the USS Nashville "SONS"Another piece of the Greatest Generation will fade away December 31st this year when the Pearl Harbor Survivors Association, founded in 1958, will dissolve. The current 2,700 members are well into their 80s and 90s and about 120 of them will attend the Pearl Harbor ceremonies this December 7. This year’s ceremonies will also be marked by the internment of two Pearl Harbor veterans, Vernon Olsen and Lee Soucy. Olsen will be interred with his 1,117 USS Arizona shipmates and Soucy with his on the USS Utah. <br />
<br />
Time and age have obviously ravaged the generation that had 84,000 uniformed members in Hawaii that fateful day in 1941. But it has not been able to suppress the indomitable spirit of those storied men and women. Their children and grandchildren created and run the nearly 20 chapters of “The Sons and Daughters of Pearl Harbor Survivors”, a fitting and impressive tribute.<br />
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There is a similar, albeit, to date a small and informal tribute to the men who served aboard the Nashville. Known as “SONS” (Sons of Nashvillers), it was born of happenstance during the St. Louis Reunion of 2009 when Tim Bonnell (son of Charles Robert Bonnell), Tommy Hewell (son of Fred Clinton Hewell, Jr.) and I (son of George Leland Bustin) met for the first time. (pictured). All of our fathers had passed but the three of us immediately connected through their shared service, our love of our fathers and our commitment to preserving the legacy of a great ship. I am not sure who among us first coined the acronym SONS, but it is irrelevant. It is not about us, but about paying due tribute to our fathers and all the men of the USS Nashville and by extension, the Greatest Generation. In 2012 we will more formally create the organization and actively reach out to others connected with the crew. We will set up a process to preserve and pass on the many artifacts related to the Nashville when the founding SONS are gone. Recently, Tim Bonnell discovered that his long time pastor was a son of a Nashviller himself, a connection that had escaped both men for many years. In fact, their fathers were in the same division and most likely knew or knew of each other, as is true of all of our fathers. You can be sure there are many, many more such connections to be made.<br />
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It is imperative the story of the ship and the sacrifices of her crew remain alive and carried to future generations. Today, it is not unusual for college students and many other Americans to be ignorant of what December 7, 1941 was, what it means not only for America but it’s place in world history and how it continues to shape our country today. Be it from political correctness, benign neglect or simply ignorance, teaching this history has become rare in our education system. In time, that can be a bigger tragedy than the event itself. SONS will do our part to not let that happen.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPxcTKQh8h3AfqDRPppov1r85I7QmMmBGkX9KrcZgIZIYi7JhtnT2Z8bivkYlMtue6C6wjxmndQm9SnZfkBpfZClF8hHYMAExW5o4ndbnIHGLNrlbj8aEZtPrQiPLb-fat8PLTyzVrEk/s1600/4248_100469541387_630251387_2571879_5105203_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigPxcTKQh8h3AfqDRPppov1r85I7QmMmBGkX9KrcZgIZIYi7JhtnT2Z8bivkYlMtue6C6wjxmndQm9SnZfkBpfZClF8hHYMAExW5o4ndbnIHGLNrlbj8aEZtPrQiPLb-fat8PLTyzVrEk/s320/4248_100469541387_630251387_2571879_5105203_n.jpg" /></a></div>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-18692436891623867652011-10-18T12:34:00.000-07:002014-05-11T11:58:43.143-07:00America is Losing Her WWII Vets, Nashville Her CrewOver 16.1 million people served in America’s armed forces during WWII. Today, 2.25 million serve (including reserves), a significant difference. More significant is the percentage of the population serving. During WWII over 12% of the population wore a uniform, today it is less than 1%. A tremendously greater level of national commitment that would require a mind-boggling 37.8 million Americans under arms today.<br />
<br />
WWII Veterans suffered 400,000 killed, 671,000 wounded and 35,000 missing in action and there are approximately 2.7 million still alive. We lose between 800-1,200 every day. Every single day. Soon they will be gone, all of them, and we will be without a live source of that part of American history.<br />
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Over the past few months I have received calls and letters reminding me of the harsh, personal reality of those numbers, as the Nashville crew continues to pass on. We lost Harrison LeRoy Frost, Jr., John T. “Jack” Baldwin, Jr., Lester Lindsay Morton, Jr., Vincent “Jim” Spiering and just today, "Papa" Joe Venaglia. Each of these men served with great valor and honor. Lester Morton for instance, with total disregard for his own life, entered a burning turret, repeatedly, to pull out 18 severely wounded Marines and cared for them hours afterwards. Such heroism was not uncommon aboard the Nashville. There were hundreds of similar stories, hundreds of acts of bravery and self-sacrifice among the crew. Many of the men even refused medals including the Purple Heart for fear the government letter home would worry and frighten their loved ones. As my uncle Charlie, himself a veteran, once said to me not long before he passed away, “Where do we get such men?!”. Well, I don’t think I can answer that, but I do know we have them, many of them, then and now.<br />
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If you know a veteran, or meet one, thank them. Tell them they are not forgotten, that they are respected and appreciated. And ask them to tell you a story you should never forget.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJBLeKnw2DwoVXlX8KyouvHtX7_7WIustY93nViaOZdReWqWRVQsGY_Vmp8axsf_eCfvQrgL_412ucMJ_ytIbyaXiytuwPUvpWpv1-Yq8psXPPKN7sL-yHj6bkeNuMkKt6Kf2yHIJjYo/s1600/US_Navy_24.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="115" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJBLeKnw2DwoVXlX8KyouvHtX7_7WIustY93nViaOZdReWqWRVQsGY_Vmp8axsf_eCfvQrgL_412ucMJ_ytIbyaXiytuwPUvpWpv1-Yq8psXPPKN7sL-yHj6bkeNuMkKt6Kf2yHIJjYo/s320/US_Navy_24.tif" /></a></div>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-32983071876042526802011-10-13T11:56:00.000-07:002011-10-13T11:58:02.853-07:00US Navy, 236 Years of FreedomToday the United States Navy is 236 years old. The greatest, most powerful, most dominant navy in the history of the planet was not always so. It started in a most humble manner on October 13, 1774 when the Continental Congress authorized two armed vessels to search for British munitions ships,. And humble it stayed for some time thereafter as the navy was essentially disbanded after the Revolutionary War. It was not until the Naval Act of 1794 that authorized construction and manning of six frigates to protect American merchant ships from the notorious Barbary Pirates that the navy again had any presence on the high seas. Still, six ships, humble.<br />
Through the 19th century the navy grew but continued to be a regional force at best, until Theodore Roosevelt sent the “Great While Fleet” on a goodwill-show of force tour around the world. The 20th century presented threats and opportunities on an horrific new scale, culminating with WWII. Entering the largest global conflict in history, the US Navy was as undermanned, underarmed and overmatched as the rest of the American military. However, by the end of WWII, the US Navy had made the world’s oceans an American lake and constituted 90% of all the ships on the planet.<br />
Today, the US Navy dwarfs that of any of country’s. It has the worlds largest carrier fleet with the most advanced carriers of any nation. In terms of tonnage, it is larger than the next 13 navies, combined. With over 286 active ships, 3,700 aircraft, 328,000 active and 101,000 reserve personnel, it dominates the high seas even more than the British did in the 1700s. There has never been such a massive disparity between the world’s most powerful navy and any others, allies or enemies.<br />
The USS Nashville of course played an integral part in naval history, starting with being a new ship in a small navy that faced overwhelming odds at the beginning of WWII, to being part of the most powerful navy the world had ever seen at the time. Her heritage, as part of American Naval Heritage, lives on.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHoahyphenhyphenqUdHCX3dxyN8A0cj_HBYqIlJZskXmjoTNtR8z70hg81oo-8MkKqBBkRyvDWUACuknkY4M8p7t-RH35-ZnYvq3EhX-Mu4SJeRhTyuro0kS222ETEBF0AUx0wX8Cr-xA_aZUQJ-JM/s1600/BonhommeRichard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="287" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHoahyphenhyphenqUdHCX3dxyN8A0cj_HBYqIlJZskXmjoTNtR8z70hg81oo-8MkKqBBkRyvDWUACuknkY4M8p7t-RH35-ZnYvq3EhX-Mu4SJeRhTyuro0kS222ETEBF0AUx0wX8Cr-xA_aZUQJ-JM/s320/BonhommeRichard.jpg" /></a></div>Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-60513177787409366402011-09-14T07:13:00.000-07:002011-09-14T07:30:52.415-07:00A Nashviller Son-In-Law Has Unique Perspective: Veteran Aboard PratChief Warrant Officer William Carter had the unique experience of serving aboard the Nashville after she was sold to Chile and re-named Admiral Prat. His father-in-law served about the Nashville. Nashvillers, their families, friends and fans of the ship should find these comments comforting.<br />
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<br />
Sir:<br />
<br />
As a CTI1(NAC) I served in Prat while on Unitas XVII (1976) as an "adviser" for communications and operations. As a Spanish linguist I served on many of the allied ships during UNITAS XVII and XVIII. <br />
I was berthed in the Chief's Mess and made many friends during my two weeks in Prat. My late <br />
Father-in-Law served in Nashville for part of WW II as a Chief Petty Officer. When I mentioned this to several of the Chiefs, they put together a "care package" for my then Father-in-Law. I reported aboard shortly after daybreak while in port in Talcahuano, Chile. <br />
My introduction to the ship was very abrupt and very impressive. As soon as I stepped aboard, the ships band began playing our National Anthem, followed by the Chilean National Anthem. After this I was shown a brass plaque, set in the deck which gave the history of the kamikaze strike which killed and wounded so many of her crew. BTW, I never saw any crewman step on the plaque, they always walked around it! <br />
Among the exercises was a surface gun shoot in which the Prat fired all her 6" and 5" guns. For someone raised in the modern Navy in which each destroyer or cruiser only has one or at most two 5" gun mounts, you can't imagine just how neat this was to experience! BTW, she was mainly made of stainless steel and was in superb shape. She hit 32 knots during one speed trial while I was serving in her! That was most impressive as her design speed was 32.5 knots!<br />
Most of the ships I served aboard during my 27 years in the Navy are all scrapped. The Nashville/Prat is also gone. Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever!<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
<br />
William (Bill) Carter<br />
Chief Warrant Officer, U.S.N.(Ret)Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-22973402097934246302011-07-14T18:28:00.000-07:002011-07-14T18:28:02.364-07:00A Nashviller Nephew Writes...From Colonel Clifton H. Aldrich, United States Army, Retired<br />
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Mr. Bustin,<br />
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I applaud your research and publication about the USS Nashville. I too have become interested in the history of that ship. You see my uncle CFC Edward B. McGettrick, may have served on that ship longer than any other. He has passed (2003) now and my talks with him about the war were too few and too brief. He served from Jun 1938 until November 1944, departing the Ship on 27 Nov to attend a chief fire control school. He came aboard as seaman 3d class and left as a Chief Fire Control being promoted in Aug of 1944. Obviously, he was not on board when it was hit by the kamikaze attack on 13 Dec. It haunted him that he was not there but conflicted him because he probably would have been killed if he was. The information I have comes mostly from my conversations with him, my Father's conversation with him relayed to me, my Mothers stories, and the reading of his letters to my Mother and Father during the war, his younger sisters stories. She was a Navy Lieutenant nurse at the Chelsea Naval Hospital where he was treated and discharged in late 1946. And the Navy ships musters recently released. I have recently requested his military records and awaiting to know more about him. <br />
<br />
I was the only nephew he ever talked to about his service most probably because I spent 32years in the Army. Entered as a private and retired as a Colonel in 1993. I was shocked when attending his funeral that I was the only one there that knew any more than that he had been in the Navy. And many would not have known if it were not for a portrait picture of him and his sister in uniform that had been taken by my Father. Only his sister (also now passed) could talk about his Navy service. It was then that I became determined to know as much as I could about his service this great Ship and his life during those eight years. <br />
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My Uncle was silently proud of his Naval service and attended a number of reunions. One I was able to talk to him on one of my infrequent visits about was one at Nashville Tennessee. He was quite proud that he was recognized for having been the longest serving crewman at that reunion. He like all you highlighted in your book loved the USS Nashville and for him actually grew up as a crewman on the Nashville.<br />
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I find myself trying to place myself in his shoes, responding to General Quarters, living on board ship moving from point to point at risk and in harms way, growing with increased responsibility and providing fire support. I was trained and served as a Army Field Artilleryman and to this day cannot imagine the simultaneous and continuous firing of the equivalent of nearly two battalions of 155mm Artillery within a area of 200 meters. I feel I really would have liked to be there to serve.<br />
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I regret that I was not able to sit with him and his brothers an sister to document their service. He had a brother who served on the USS Finnegan, a brother who was a merchant marine, a brother who landed with the 9th Army Artillery on Utah Beach on 10 Jun 1944, and his Sister the nurse. He was one of eight and the other three girls were at home with their children.<br />
<br />
I am sorry if this rambling has gone on but the purpose was to determine if in your research you came across any reference to my Uncle. I am going to try to chronicle his service in some way so that the rest of the family will know him and of his extraordinary service to our Nation.<br />
<br />
Sincerely<br />
Clifton H. AldrichDemocracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-74584013054186843402011-06-05T22:29:00.000-07:002011-06-05T22:29:17.279-07:00D-Day, 67 Years Ago, RemembranceJune 6, 1944, 67 years ago, an eternity to most people, American, British and Canadian troops landed on the beaches of Normandy and across the French countryside to literally, liberate Europe from Nazi occupation. Part of Operation Overlord, the naval operations code named Operation Neptune, included 1,213 naval warships from the United States, Britain, Canada and to a lesser extent, the Netherlands, Poland, Norway, Greece and France, all navies in exile. In addition, 4,126 landing and other craft were provided and 3,500 used in the greatest sea <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzDzWOlP_UD3iDkwxWfgg0QN6a2KR4NZgLt5FUx_bSJKylqOFaaNm9OkX56YR5gV0M9J9dVIulC2rROlr4AvSf3PZfXQWXQpDd0gaNw5m05hSlxwqibBdaHa3nnuGeUxPJNXiu2hBu3To/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="174" width="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzDzWOlP_UD3iDkwxWfgg0QN6a2KR4NZgLt5FUx_bSJKylqOFaaNm9OkX56YR5gV0M9J9dVIulC2rROlr4AvSf3PZfXQWXQpDd0gaNw5m05hSlxwqibBdaHa3nnuGeUxPJNXiu2hBu3To/s320/images.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
invasion in history. The navy did more than simply provide transportation of men and material, it provided (at times close in) bombardment of heavily defended German positions, underwater demolition teams, minesweeping, anti-aircraft fire, anti-submarine patrol, corpsmen and critical evacuation under heavy fire of the wounded.<br />
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The total casualties during D-Day and the few critical days after will never been truly known on either side. It is generally recognized there were 6,036 American casualties during the battle of which 4,900 died, including 1,068 US Navy sailors, not a well known fact. Again, there remains academic dispute on the exact casualty figures. No matter, thousands died in the name of freedom and the liberation of a continent.<br />
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One has to wonder, looking at the high casualty numbers within a short period of time, and the absolute horror and carnage we all think we have some understanding of due to the movie “Saving Private Ryan”, one has to wonder, how would the media treat this today? What politicians would demand an investigation, what politicians would summons the head of the Joint Chiefs before a well-publicized Senate committee, and what groups and organizations would scream for an immediate withdrawal?<br />
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We live in a different world, sometimes a better world, sometimes not. Do not let that stand in the way of remembering and honoring the men who sacrificed all to save the world. So today we remember, we honor and we respect.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-9076826685640414142011-04-18T12:52:00.000-07:002011-04-18T15:13:00.306-07:00The Doolittle Raid 69th Anniversary: Greatness Endures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5wZWcY-spWI/TayW93Q_xLI/AAAAAAAAADw/M2sG_nC6tDI/s1600/060415-F-0000G-016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="132" width="160" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5wZWcY-spWI/TayW93Q_xLI/AAAAAAAAADw/M2sG_nC6tDI/s320/060415-F-0000G-016.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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April 18, 1942, 69 years ago today, my father and the rest of the Nashville crew were participating in the most famous naval raid in American history. Few men survive from that day but of those that do, most have vivid memories of the event that became legend.<br />
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What would become known as the “Doolittle Raid” (often referred to as the Halsey-Doolittle Raid in navy circles) was an ingenious, audacious plan born of defeat, necessity, American resiliency and President Roosevelt’s insistence on hitting back at Japan both for military and morale reasons. <br />
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By Spring 1942, much of the backbone of the US Navy was at the bottom of the shallow waters of Pearl Harbor, continuing to ooze oil, the overwhelmed and undersupplied Marines on Wake Island had surrendered, Guam had fallen, American and Filipino forces had been defeated in the Philippines after a prolonged stubborn resistance, Japan had invaded the Solomons, Burma and Singapore, attacked Port Moresby, Australia and had swept the British Navy from the Pacific. The expanding Japanese empire of conquest stretched over 6,000 miles at its perimeter and 320,000 Allied soldiers, airmen, marines and sailors had been killed, wounded or captured at a cost of 15,000 Japanese casualties. The war was at a critical low point for America and the Allies and good news was nonexistent. That was about to change.<br />
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The very idea that land based bombers taking off from the short, pitching deck of an aircraft carrier came from Navy Captain Francis Low, an anti-submarine officer, when he saw both bombers and the painted outline of a carrier deck at the naval air station in Norfolk, Virginia. Colonel Jimmy Doolittle, a brilliant aviation pioneer, subsequently planned out the complex details of the attack and hand-picked his volunteers, none of whom knew exactly what they were volunteering for at the time. The mission was so secret that not even the commander of the USS Hornet, Captain Marc A. Mitscher, the ship designated to launch the attack, knew of it until the planes were loaded aboard the ship on April 1, 1942 in Alameda, California. Only then was he told of the plan to attack Japan. You have to wonder if he had a moment of thinking this was a very bad April Fools joke.<br />
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Nashville played a critical role in Task Force 16 when Japanese pickett ships were encountered 600 miles from Japan, 200 miles short of the planned launch distance. Nashville was ordered to “quickly” destroy the pickett ships before they could send a message to Tokyo that an American fleet had been sighted. A more difficult target could not have been imagined. Rough seas, with waves that washed over the bow of Nashville and against the superstructure several stories high, combined with poor visibility and a small, bobbing target frequently obscured by crests of swells presented a challenge. But Nashville prevailed, sinking the Nito Maru and taking her survivors prisoner as Doolittle’s Raiders were forced to launch well beyond their fuel range.<br />
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The story of the bravery and tenacity of the Raiders is well known, as it should be. But the norm for telling that story has become one of too often downplaying the damage done as to be almost superficial and not giving full measure to the war changing impact of the raid itself. The fact is that the bombers hit not only Tokyo but also Yokosuka, Kobe and Nagoya. The Japanese suffered 50 dead, 400 injured and damage to oil tanks, steel mills, power plants and army barracks, with 90 buildings destroyed. In addition, the aircraft carrier Ryuho was bombed and her launch delayed until November. While compared to latter, massive B29 bombing raids against Japan the damage was indeed minor, but for the time, it was more than the pinprick described in history books and articles.<br />
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Most significantly of course was the tremendous impact it had on the Japanese psyche and ultimately a flawed, fatal Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) battle strategy. The Japanese people and military were absolutely stunned that an attack could be made on the home islands. Radio JOAK in Tokyo just that morning, made the statement that such a thing would never happen and yet, just as the capital was finishing up an air raid drill that no one took seriously, American land based bombers appeared out of thin air to bomb several cities, including the capital where the Emperor-God lived.<br />
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The IJN immediately pulled back significant forces to protect the home islands including Admiral Chuichi Nagumo’s 5 fast carrier groups that had already sunk or driven the British Navy from the Indian Ocean. Admiral Yamamoto became convinced the American fleet must be lured into a decisive battle and destroyed and thus planned the ill-fated operation at Midway that dealt a slow but sure deathblow to the IJN, moving the Japanese from an expansionist, aggressive strategy to a defensive one for the remainder of the war. They never recovered. It is not inaccurate to state that the Doolittle Raid changed the course of the war and may have in fact shortened it by many months.<br />
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Today, we salute all of the members of Task Force 16:<br />
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The Doolittle Raiders<br />
USS Hornet CV8<br />
USS Enterprise CV6<br />
USS Northampton CA26<br />
USS Vincennes CA44<br />
USS Salt Lake City CA25<br />
USS Nashville CL43<br />
USS Balch DD363<br />
USS Gwin DD433<br />
USS Benham DD397<br />
USS Grayson DD435<br />
USS Ellet DD398<br />
USS Monssen DD436<br />
USS Fanning DD385<br />
USS Meredith DD434<br />
USS Sabine AO25<br />
USS Cimarron AO22<br />
USS Thresher SS200<br />
USS Trout SS202<br />
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By the end of 1942 the Hornet, Vincennes, Benham, Northampton, Monssen and Meredith would be sunk. By the end of the war, only the Enterprise, Nashville and Grayson survived. And on this 69th anniversary, only 5 Doolittle Raiders are alive, with the last of the pilots, Bill Bower, passing away in January 2011 at age 93.<br />
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Today, the USS Hornet CV12, the replacement ship for USS Hornet CV8 of Doolittle Raid fame and herself a highly decorated WWII veteran, is a floating museum in Alameda, California, at the very same dock where the Hornet CV8 loaded the B-25s and sailed into history. We salute all members of Task Force 16 for their bravery and contribution.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-62893149213480573822011-03-22T16:02:00.000-07:002011-03-22T16:02:58.076-07:00March 22, 1942, The War Goes Badly, USS Nashville Begins Secret TrainingGeneral MacArthur, having fled the Philippines on orders of President Roosevelt, and after spending 11 days and nearly 3,000 miles in a strategic retreat, arrived in Melbourne, Australia, greeted by a few hundred American troops in pith helmets and several thousand Australians eager for any degree of hope in an increasingly bleak horizon of war news. Curiously, the General is awarded the Medal of Honor by General George Marshall. German and Japanese high commands scoff at MacArthur and don’t expect to hear much more of him.<br />
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Meanwhile, the news from the Philippines continues to go from very bad to horrific as American and Philippine troops are cornered on Corregidor and Bataan and resort to eating their horses, mules, various lizards and monkeys to stay alive, barely. Inevitably, dysentery, beri-beri and a host of other tropical niceties begin to take their toll on the number of able-bodied soldiers available to resist the Japanese onslaught. Japanese General Masaharu Homma orders heavy shelling against the beleaguered troops trapped like rats.<br />
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The USS Nashville had just arrived in San Diego the day before along with the USS Hornet and support vessels. The Nashville crew got a few days liberty before training started on March 23, training for the upcoming but still top secret raid that would irreversibly change the war on April 18, 1942.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-68722680585769520822010-12-13T09:07:00.000-08:002010-12-13T09:07:22.419-08:00Kamikaze Strikes Nashville 66 Years Ago Today<i>This is a brief excerpt from the book:</i><br />
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At 1457, just as the Nashville was coming about the southern end of Negros Island, steaming towards the Sulu Sea, sharp-eyed lookouts spotted a Val single engine plane at 5,000 feet just over the island off the starboard side of the ship. The crew thought the ship astern was the target and indeed it appeared that way from the dive path of the plane. Crewmembers were thinking, “Oh God, they are going to get it if that plane gets through.” But then in an instant the pilot banked so hard left that his wings were perpendicular to the water, and with that the fate of the Nashville and her crew was forever altered. Men watched in horror and disbelief as they could see bombs fastened on both wings as the plane bore down on them with every intention of killing as many of them as possible. Apparently aiming for the bridge, where nearly thirty officers and men were present, the tip of the right wing caught the end of a 40mm anti-aircraft gun port- side just aft and the plane slammed into the Nashville amidships at 400 miles an hour with an instant and powerful impact. The ship violently bolted and shuddered, the first evidence for the crew below decks that something had gone horribly wrong. The bomb on the right wing exploded ten feet above the port five-inch battery, sending a powerful shockwave and a deadly shrapnel spray across the deck, ripping through steel bulkheads, gun barrels, ammunition, decking, and human beings. The left wing broke loose and its bomb exploded ten feet above the starboard five-inch battery, shooting a violent concussion wave and hundreds of pieces of red-hot jagged shrapnel in all directions. Body parts, specks of flesh, fluids of both man and machine blew through doorways, along bulkheads, against men, and down hallways along much of the length of the ship. <br />
Aviation gasoline spewed forth soaking men, ammunition, guns, and everything else before exploding in a millisecond, sending flames more than seventy feet forward and higher than the ship’s smokestacks. Searing fires erupted from the foremast to the mainmast topside. The blast literally clogged the on deck blow intakes and momentarily knocked out the fires in the fireroom, but men like John. W. Bosier CMM ran topside, cleared the intakes, and relit the fires quickly.<br />
Fires also erupted on the second deck, in the #2 fireroom, uptakes on the third deck, and in the superstructure as high as the signal bridge. The burning aviation fuel then ignited a five-inch ready ammunition box portside causing more deadly explosions. Still, the horror continued as the fifty-caliber machine gun ammunition from the Japanese plane exploded as did some of the ship’s 20mm and 40mm ammunition, creating a deadly blast of bullets and shrapnel flying in all directions. <br />
The scene on deck was nothing short of pure horror surpassing a man’s worst nightmares. The Nashville was a vessel of death and destruction. Men were blown overboard. Men’s bodies were penetrated by jagged searing hot metal fragments, limbs were torn from torsos, torsos from trunks, and some simply disintegrated in the concussion and fire. The ship itself fared no better than the crew. Large five-inch guns were twisted like putty, melted and put out of commission as were 40mm and 20mm guns amidships, the thirty-six-inch searchlights simply ceased to exist, the teak decks were shredded like toothpicks, bulkheads crushed and burnt, paint seared off, gun barrels twisted like straws. <br />
A bomb or shell exploding on a ship kills and maims in multiple, horrible ways. The pressure of the blast itself attacks in a wave that crushes bodies, strips flesh and muscle from bone, and in some cases totally vaporizes human beings. It is not simply metal bomb fragments that also kill but the ship’s own metal pieces blasted into tiny fragments, even liquefied that then pass through a man’s body at hypersonic speed.<br />
The memory of the attack remained seared into the minds of the survivors for the rest of their lives. James D. Baccus was stationed in Turret 1 for general quarters. “We had just come back from the Mess Hall and I was sitting on the deck inside the turret, playing Backgammon, when the ship shook and there was one hell of a noise. I then looked through the scuttle hole in the deck of the turret, where the shell cases are ejected to the ship’s deck, and several sailors were crawling under the overhang for protection. They were bloody, some with legs and arms either gone or badly injured.” Most of the men James saw would not survive.<br />
“So many of my shipmates, some close friends dead and wounded. The wounds were so terrible, especially the burns,” remembered William Smith, Chief Shipfitter.<br />
Hugh D. Patrick and a buddy ran topside as soon as they realized what had happened and they immediately heard frantic pounding on a closed hatch. They opened the hatch and continued forward to see if they could help and then in essence rescued a doomed sailor. It was almost fifty years later that Frank Prentice tracked down Hugh to thank him for saving his life by opening that hatch.<br />
GM3c Alfonso Garcia Vejar had just left his station as he was relieved and went below deck to eat. The man that took his place was killed instantly. Alfonso was alive by sheer chance and fate.<br />
James Clark received a Purple Heart as a result of the attack, “I was stationed in a 40mm gun director with a guy named Johnson when the kamikaze attack occurred, the plane hit directly below us. Our gun crew, which was one level below and closer to the plane, was hit hard. Later, after all the fires were out I was back at my station and witnessed a Marine near the top of the ladder who was so badly wounded his body was just a heap and his clothing was smoldering. I didn’t know how this man could be alive. When a Marine officer approached him he held out his hand and said, ‘help me sir.’ I know that Marine officer has had many nightmares about that incident and I can still see it.”<br />
The blast blew men into bulkheads, across the deck and through doorways. Ed Roiek MM1 was blown clear through two doorways yet managed to survive.<br />
“I was told to switch the shift with one of my shipmates,” said Maury Jack Wood, Ship Cook 1c. “The kamikaze hit the ship where a shipmate took my shift. He was killed and it should have been me. I will never forget this as long as I live. I have shared this information with my family.”<br />
Those that were below decks were lucky and they knew it. John J. Cotton SK2c said, “I am here because I was in a repair party below decks.” <br />
Young Edward “Bulldog” Remler rushed into the overcrowded Sick Bay to help the doctors and medics any way he could. Wounded, dead, and dieing were piling up in the corridor as if they were coming off an assembly line. Horribly mangled men all about, screams of agony, groans, vomiting, blood mixed with body fluids of all sorts pooling up to his ankles, the sound of anti-aircraft guns firing and exploding ammunition decks above him formed a Kaleidoscope memory in his mind, never to fully leave him. Incredibly, there was another memory to return even more forcefully in his future. Bulldog had to hold men down while limbs were amputated, sometimes without full anesthesia. After the first amputation the doctor told him to take the severed leg of a sailor. Bulldog burst out, “What do you want me to do with it?” and was promptly told to toss it into a corner where others were beginning to form a sizeable pile. Nearly fifty years later, at one of the ship’s reunions, he spotted a one-legged man in a wheelchair, someone he had not seen at any prior reunion. It was of course that first sailor he held. They became fast friends and at times traveled together on vacations and to reunions.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-42899403490925302362010-12-06T17:55:00.000-08:002010-12-06T17:55:51.623-08:00Remember Pearl Harbor, Never ForgetRemembrance of the “Day that will live in infamy” should be more than a statistical recital of dead and wounded, of ships sunk and airplanes shot down. It should also be a moment of understanding of what happened and an appreciation of the impact it had and continues to have on our national psyche. And of course is should be a solemn moment of reflection and reverence for sacrifices made.<br />
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The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor galvanized public opinion in a manner never seen in American history. As there were an almost unbelievable series of sequential and parallel events that collectively made it possible for a high risk attack to become a stunningly brilliant tactical victory (albeit a massively failed strategic one), an equal number of Japanese mistakes ensured that the American public would forever see it as the most treacherous and backstabbing behavior any country has inflicted on another. Japan would pay a severe price for that mistake. <br />
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For a few years historical revisionists drunk with conspiracy theories and empowered by a culture of political correctness sought to blame American foreign policy or even FDR himself for the Pearl Harbor attack. Looking through the hysteria of such academically anemic behavior and at the facts only returns us to an indisputable truth: the United States and Japan were not at war and were actively engaged in diplomatic talks to avert such a horror when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on the morning of what most Americans considered a religious day, killing over 2,000 people. In a court of law that would be considered premeditated murder with special circumstances. In politics it is considered an unwarranted act of war.<br />
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The Japan that committed such a dishonorable act no longer exists. By September 1945 that Japan was so thoroughly defeated militarily, economically, emotionally and psychologically, that after the end of the war the Japanese people almost immediately became our friends and have remained so to this day.<br />
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A few years ago when I was sitting through the introductory film at the Arizona Memorial, I noticed a large number of Japanese visitors, teenagers for the most part, and I was glad they were there. I was aware that the current Japanese education system teaches the war as beginning with an “incident” in China and ending with the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As the film progressed and the teenagers witnessed the attack, most<b></b> looked dumbfounded and slowly sank down into their seats. They were particularly quiet and respectful when the Navy launch took us to the memorial. We must, and do forgive the subsequent generations of horrendous acts, but we must never forget. There are 1,102 men resting in the Arizona and an estimated 47 resting in the Utah on the bottom of Pearl Harbor that will always remind us.<br />
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Remember Pearl Harbor.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-35717853038309449432010-11-11T08:28:00.000-08:002010-11-11T08:29:27.104-08:00What Veterans Day Means To MeWhat does Veterans Day mean to you? A day of sparsely attended parades or 15 second stock shots on the evening news? A day of a few flags here and there in the neighborhood? A day off from work? Or something more?<br />
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There will be many articles written today regarding Veterans Day, some of them eloquent and moving, some complex and thoughtful, many more perhaps rote and automatic. There is no need to complicate the meaning of Veterans Day. To me, it is blindingly simple. <br />
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Today means that someone gave up their youth so I could have one. It means someone spent months and years away from family so I could be with mine. It means someone gave up their life so I could have one of liberty. They sacrificed so I may have the freedom of choice in every area of my life. They suffered so I could vote, criticize the government, get an education, live wherever I want, travel unhindered, worship or not as I wish, and write anything I desire regarding Veterans Day or any other topic. Simple, yes? And profound.<br />
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Thank a Veteran today. Give thought, if only for a moment, of what you have because of their sacrifices. And honor them by living a good life.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-35188473241251359072010-11-10T09:21:00.000-08:002010-11-10T09:21:21.146-08:00Humble Heroes WWII: USMC: HAPPY 235TH BIRTHDAY. SEMPER FIDELIS!<a href="http://humbleheroeswwii.blogspot.com/2010/11/usmc-happy-235th-birthday-semper.html?spref=bl">Humble Heroes WWII: USMC: HAPPY 235TH BIRTHDAY. SEMPER FIDELIS!</a>: "On November 10, 1775, at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, the United States Marine Corp was born by an act of Congress. Two battalions of Contin..."Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-79484638687883437242010-11-10T09:20:00.000-08:002010-11-10T09:20:41.792-08:00USMC: HAPPY 235TH BIRTHDAY. SEMPER FIDELIS!On November 10, 1775, at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, the United States Marine Corp was born by an act of Congress. Two battalions of Continental Marines under Captain Samuel Nicholas took the first of many steps since for the Corp that has served in every major and most minor conflicts of the United States. <br />
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The USMC has roughly 200,000 active men and women with another 40,000 reservists. The second smallest of the US military branches (the USCG is much smaller), the Corp is still larger than the standing armies of such countries as Britain or Israel. Almost 300 Medals of Honor have been awarded to Marines, a large number of them posthumously. Approximately 235,000 (and counting) Marines have been killed or wounded while serving their country.<br />
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But the Marine Corp story, the esprit de corp of the Marines, can never be illustrated with cold numbers any more than a Monet with a single white crayola. There have been many storied, feared, celebrated and romanticized military organizations throughout history, from the Sparta “300” to Mongol horsemen, from the Praetorian Guard to the Green Berets and Navy Seals. But no one has come close to the honor and respect afforded the Marines. The Marine Corp Hymn, in use since the late 1860s, is the most recognized military branch song in the country, perhaps the world. It elicits an immediate emotional response from a crowd in the first 3 notes.<br />
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I knew a Marine, a friend, who epitomized for me what it means to be a Marine. Sgt. Don Hill served before and during WWII. He was aboard the USS Nashville, in a gun turret when the ammunition exploded. Don was seriously injured in both legs and 19 young Marines died that day in a horrific scene hard to imagine. Later, Don would storm the beach at Iwo Jima and engage in hand to hand combat. He did it again at Okinawa where he lost his best friend.<br />
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Don went on to live a very productive life after the war, successful as a businessman, husband and father. I spent many hours over the years talking to Don and he always showed his Marine pride in the Corp, his fellow Marines and Nashville crew mates. But he would never really tell his story from the war, to me or anyone else. Only bits and pieces came out from our frequent conversations, conversations with others and as his wife Goldie told me, if he talked in his sleep. He was a loyal, brave, humble hero. He never faltered, never lost his pride in his fellow Marines, the Corp or his country. Don Hill was a Marine. Semper Fidelis Don.<br />
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If you know one, see one, say happy birthday to a Marine today. And thank them.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3609866809428327476.post-35671869459455307292010-10-25T19:13:00.000-07:002010-10-25T19:51:07.710-07:00Sixty Six Years Ago, Battle of Leyte Gulf EndsSixty six years ago on October 26, 1944 the largest naval battle in history, the Battle of Leyte Gulf, ended in a resounding American and Australian victory and essentially the total annihilation of the what was left of the once mighty Imperial Japanese Navy. The battle took place over several days and was so large in geographic scale, manpower, firepower and ships, it could and at times is considered to be four separate naval battles: Battle of the Subiyan Sea, Battle of Surigao Strait, Battle of Cape Engano and the Battle of Samar.<br />
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The Americans alone had 8 carriers, 24 escort carriers, 12 battleships, 24 cruisers and 141 destroyers along with 1,712 aircraft to throw into the battle against 1 carrier, 3 small carriers, 9 battleships, 20 cruisers and 34 destroyers with 117 carrier based aircraft (there were land based aircraft also available) for the Japanese. There were numerous additional smaller craft such as submarines, PT boats, landing ships, etc. available to one degree or another. By the conclusion of the battle the Americans had lost 3 escort carriers, 2 destroyers and one destroyer escort to Japanese losses of 1 carrier, 3 small carriers, 3 battleships, 10 cruisers and 11 destroyers. It was the end of the Japanese Navy as a fighting force. American casualties totaled 3,500 while the Japanese lost 10,000 men.<br />
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It was nothing more than General MacArthur’s ego and stubborn streak that kept the Nashville from the heat of the battle. MacArthur was aboard Nashville as the flagship of the invasion and Admiral Kinkaid has requested MacArthur leave the ship and establish his HQ ashore as the battle was developing. MacArthur was adamant about staying on Nashville and wanted to be a part of the developing naval battle but Kinkaid would not commit Nashville to the battle line while the general was on board. Finally, MacArthur relented on October 24. As it was, Nashville saw action, dogged continuous air attacks and had a Japanese torpedo launched by a plane pass no more than 15 yards off her starboard stern. <br />
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It is highly unlikely the world will ever see such massive naval forces engage in direct combat again.Democracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854626616236603noreply@blogger.com1