USO Canteen FReeper Style ~ TRIBUTE TO THE USS TARAWA (LHA-1)& FReeper Brian Wells ~ January 20 2003

1981 Ronald Reagan inaugurated as President

Thought for the day : " We make war that we may live in peace."

Thanks, Valin, for today's history.

Hey stinker what are you up to? LOL

Terrific article about Gertrude Janeway, last widow of a Union veteran in Civil War. who died at 93. Thanks, Valin.

Thanks, Fiddlstix, for today's coffee and donuts and musical selections.

Google search of Tarawa in the news

Dang it, the very first news story had this buried in it:

January 19, 2003

Navy wife says she's 'prepared for the worst'

Two weeks ago Sara Cain said goodbye to her husband, who shipped out from San Diego for the Persian Gulf on the USS Tarawa. She's just learned e-mail communication is about to cease."That's going to be really tough," said Cain, who stayed behind at Camp Pendleton with the couple's 4-year-old son and 6-year-old daughter.

Thanks for the transcript, Mud. I love listening to Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld.

Sailor!! Uh-OOH-RUH!!

USS Belleau Wood, Maiden WESPAC, 1981!!

Quick! Go to the starboard catwalk, go forward until you hit the entrance to the troop compartment.

Then, look underneath the entrance to the gunwhale or whatever that hole is that all the cooks and messmen use to have smoke breaks!

Then, once you spot someone standing in that portal, go into the head in that upper troop compartment, fill up a small trashcan bag with water from the showers! (If on water hours, use the seawater spigot)

Then, take that bag of water and swing it over the railing on the catwalk and soak those messmen standing in the protal underneath!!

That was the most fun I ever had on that LHA-3! :)

Today's classic warship, USS San Pablo (AVP-30)

Barnegat class seaplane tender
Displacement. 1,766
Lenght. 311'8"
Beam. 41'1"
Draft. 13'6"
Speed. 20 k.
Complement. 215
Armament. 4 5"

San Pablo (AVP-30) was laid down on 2 July 1941 by the Associated Shipbuilding Co., Seattle, Wash. Launched on 31 March 1942; sponsored by Mrs. W. A Hall; and commissioned on 15 March 1943, Comdr. R. R. Darron in command.

Following commissioning and outfitting, San Pablo conducted shakedown in the Puget Sound area and then steamed to San Diego for readiness training. On 15 June, the small seaplane tender departed the west coast and headed for the South Pacific. At Espiritu Santo, San Pablo embarked marines and deck cargo then proceeded to Noumea, New Caledonia. After offloading there, she went to Brisbane, Australia, to pick up the flight crews and aviation supplies, including spare parts and fuel, of patrol squadron VP-101; then returned to Noumea to commence operations as tender and base for "Black-Cat" (night-fighting, air-search, and reconnaissance) PBM's and PBY's.

With VP-101 and assigned crash boats, San Pablo formed Task Group 73.1 and established their seaplane base by charting the bay, setting out mooring and marker buoys, and constructing quarters for squadron personnel at nearby Honey Hollow. They also built an advanced base at Samarai, Papua, New Guinea. For the next several months, the "Black Cats" operated from these bases, preying on enemy shipping along the coasts of New Guinea, New Britain, New Ireland, and in the Bismarck Sea. They inflicted great losses on inter-island barge traffic as well as to heavy shipping; harassed enemy troops with night bombing and strafing missions; conducted photo intelligence operations; provided at-sea search and rescue support for downed Army fliers and sailors of sunken vessels; and carried high ranking officers, friendly coast watchers, and native guerrilla units.

While continuously on the alert for enemy air attack, San Pablo sailors worked around the clock to fuel, repair, arm, and control the seaplanes, and to feed and care for their crews. On 9 October, she was relieved by Half Moon (AVP-26) and sailed to Brisbane for long needed repair, replenishment, and shore leave. She returned to Noumea on 20 December and resumed operations with VP-52. During January 1944, she gave direct support to the force which occupied Finschhafen, New Guinea, and helped to establish a new advance base at Langemak Bay. At times, she also tended the planes of VP-34, then flying rescue missions for the 5th AAF from Port Moresby. She once temporarily based two OS2U scout planes from Boise (CL-47).

From Langemak Bay, San Pablo's planes helped to prevent the Japanese from supplying garrisons on Rabaul and Kavieng. On 25 February, relieved again by Half Moon, San Pablo returned to Noumea for repairs alongside Dobbin (AD-3). During the work, she assisted in removing a screw from Aaron Ward (DM34) using her seaplane winch. This speeded repairs to the destroyer-minelayer and allowed her to reach Ulithi in time to prepare for the forthcoming Okinawa campaign.

By 24 March, San Pablo was conducting operations at Seeadler Harbor, Admiralty Islands, with VP-3 and VP-52 planes. They carried out night bombing missions in the Carolines and search flights by day. The pace had so quickened by the end of March that Tangier (AV-8) was brought in to help carry the load. On 13 May, they moved to Hollandia to patrol the approaches to Wake Island prior to Allied landings there. Relieved by Orca (AVP-49) on 26 May, Sun Pablo then refueled PT boats at Humboldt Bay and transported personnel and cargo between Manus Seeadler, Emirau, and Woendi. On 19 August, she commenced ASW patrols with VP-11 planes at Woendi and, during October and November, conducted ASW operations off Morotai and Hollandia. Later relieved by San Carlos (AVP-51), she moved to Anibongon Bay Leyte, to support planes conducting search missions in the Philippines.

On 8 December, San Pablo received survivors of Mahan (DD-364) who had been picked up by one of her PBM's after that destroyer had suffered three kamikaze hits and sank in Ormoc Bay. She then joined a convoy en route to Mindoro and came under severe attack by suicide planes for ten consecutive days. Most of the kamikazes were beaten off by AA fire from the convoy screen or by CAP planes. However, one hit an ammunition ship which completely disintegrated in a tremendous explosion, and another crashed into a Liberty ship and caused severe damage. On 30 December at Mindoro, a Val barely passed astern of San Pablo and crashed into Orestes (AGP-10), wounding four San Pablo men with shrapnel. On the 31st, a Betty bombed nearby Porcupine (IX-126) and then crashed into Gansevoort (DD-608). Through January and early February 1945, San Pablo made search missions in the South China Sea and along the China coast with VPB-25 and VP-33 squadrons. On 13 February, she was relieved by Tangier and returned to Leyte.

Through April, she escorted LST-777, Chestatee (AOG-49), and various merchant transports between Leyte and Palawan. She then steamed, via Morotai, to Manus. At the end of June, she moved to Samar and the Lingayen Gulf area for air search and rescue operations in the South China Sea-Formosa area. These lasted until 15 August when she received orders to cease offensive operations. On 2 September, the day of Japan's formal surrender ceremony, San Pablo was in Lingayen Gulf providing ASW patrols to cover occupation convoys bound for Japan.

San Pablo returned to Bremerton, Wash., on 17 November to prepare for inactivation. She moved to Alameda, Calif., on 25 March 1946 and remained idle until placed out of commission, in reserve, on 13 January 1947.

Following conversion to a hydrographic-survey vessel, San Pablo was recommissioned on 17 September 1948 at San Francisco, Comdr. T. E. Chambers in command. She conducted shakedown training off San Diego from 29 October to 15 November and was then ordered to report to the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. San Pablo reached Portsmouth, Va., on 14 December and completed outfitting prior to sailing on 3 February 1949 in company with Rehoboth (AVP-50) for oceanographic work in the western approaches to the Mediterranean. Calling at Ponta Delgada, Azores, Plymouth England, Gibraltar, and Bermuda, she returned to Philadelphia on 18 April. During the remainder of the year, she conducted two similar cruises to survey and measure ocean currents, and, during the last made a study of the North Atlantic Drift. She included in her ports of call Scapa Flow; the Orkney Islands; Oslo, Norway; and Copenhagen, Denmark. San Pablo was redesignated AGS-30, effective 25 August 1949.

Beginning 18 January 1950, she conducted a survey of the Gulf Stream; and, from 5 to 26 June, served as Survey Headquarters Ship for a group of American and Canadian vessels engaged in broad coverage behavioral studies of that massive current. After a cruise to Casablanca, French Morocco, in July and August, she returned to the east coast of the United States to conduct survey operations between New London and Key West for the remainder of the year.

During 1951, San Pablo conducted oceanographic studies during various cruises, ranging from Scotland to the Mediterranean and along the coast in the Narragansett Bay operating area. Her tasks included making accurate profile studies of the ocean bottom for the purpose of evaluating new sonar devices. In 1952 she spent the majority of her time in the North Atlantic, and devoted the latter part of the year to training operations out of Norfolk. From 1953 through 1968 San Pablo alternated between the North Atlantic and the Caribbean conducting studies on salinity, sound reflectivity, underwater photography techniques, deep bottom core sampling, bottom profile mapping, sub surface wave phenomena, and other topics still classified. For several months during 1965, she utilized the port and docking facilities at Rosyth, Scotland, as a temporary home port, courtesy of the British Royal Navy. From 1 January to 29 May 1969, she underwent inactivation at Philadelphia.

San Pablo was decommissioned on 29 May 1969 and struck from the Navy list on 1 June. After being used by the Ocean Science Center of the Atlantic Commission, Savannah, Georgia, she was sold on 14 September 1971 to Mrs. Margo Zahardis of Vancouver, Wash.

San Pablo earned four battle stars for World War II service.

Today's classic warship post is in memory of actor Richard Crenna, who played the Command Officer of the USS San Pablo (a ficticious gunboat) in the movie "The Sand Pebbles". Mr. Crenna passed away 17 January 2003. He was 75.

"I love listening to Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld."

Yep...he was masterful on Sunday, IMHO...MUD

May an Alberta Clipper visit you soon............

Thanks, Fiddlstix, for today's coffee and donuts and musical selections.

You're welcome J

WOW..... THANK YOU very much for the post snippy_about_it and for all the supporters out there!! I can't even begin to say what all this support and encouragement means to us out here!

It's just after 0800 here, so that's why I'm a little late :)

Tonk: Great job on the Canteen! It's a great place to visit when I get a break throughout the day. (Too bad spell-check isn't availible when you post :)

Kathy in Alaska: I'll pass on the show shoveling! I did 1 year in Brunswick Maine and I saw more snow than I care to remember! After my first winter there, I was on the phone to my detailer saying I wanted out of here!

Tomkow: That's a great logo!! I'll save that one and make it my wallpaper!

Here's a story I got from a fellow Chief the other day:

Subject: Sports Illustrated goes flying in a F-14

>(This guy writes for Sports Illustrated)

> >On a Wing and a Prayer, by Rick Reilly

> >Now this message is for America's most famous athletes: Someday you may be >invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful >fighter jets. Many of you already have --John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger >Woods to name a few.

> >If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest >sincerity.... Move to Guam. Change your name. Fake your own death. >Whatever you do, do not go. I know.

The US Navy invited me to try it. I >was thrilled. I was pumped. > >I was toast!

I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip >(Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia >Beach. >

>Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple >it. >

>He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling >handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his >leisure time.

If you see this man, run the other way. Fast. Biff King was >born to fly. >

>His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus >15 seconds and counting...." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids >a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps >surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff." >

>Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million >weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. >

>I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked >Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning. "Bananas," he >said. "For the potassium?" I asked. "No," Biff said, "because they taste >about the same coming up as they do going down." >

>The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name >sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or >Leadfoot --but, still, very cool.) >

>I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed.

If ever >in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, that was it.

A fighter >pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my >ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at >such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious. >

>Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, >and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. >

>In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then >canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life.

>Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster >at Six Flags Over Texas, only without rails. >

>We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and >dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. >

>We chased another F-14, and it chased us. We broke the speed of sound.

Sea >was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 >mph, creating a G-force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my >body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. >Colin Montgomerie. >

>And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. >And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth >grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. >

>Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be >egressed. >

>I went through not one airsick bag, but two. Biff said I passed out. >Twice. I was coated in sweat. >

>At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock >bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in >and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to >throw down. >

>I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman >making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. >

>Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and Freon nerves. I >wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff >does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home >stand. >

>A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and >the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch >for my flight suit. What is it? I asked.

>"Two Bags." >

>Don't you dare tell Nicole.

Thanks again for the tribute.... now I'm off to a meeting but I'll check in again through the rest of the day!

Nuthin'! I wasn't doin' nuthin'!.......

Here ya go. Maybe this'll help keep ya warm !!

I know Brian was excited to stop by, and I am sure he is disappointed he hasn't been able to, although the night is still young, (except for me, I was up at 5am EST).

Here is a snippet from mail I received from him yesterday.

I am looking forward to seeing the thread on Monday. I'll be sure and email some of the other Sailor's aboard and maybe they will start looking at FR more! Surely can't hurt!

Well that figures. While I am writing your excuse for not showing up, you post! LOL.

Now I have to go read it. Be right back.

Nevermind my previous post. He showed up!

Brian, your mother was here this morning, you didn't tell me she was a freeper too! Around post 60-65 I believe.

The Speech:

.
.
I have a Dream
by Martin Luther King, Jr.
Delivered on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. on August 28, 1963

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

Great story, Chief!

Thank you for your service, from one AF brat to another.

Take good care of those guys and gals in your section, they deserve the best...and it sounds like you're it!

LOL! If only given the chance, right?