tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12906001015685888742024-03-05T00:44:42.239-05:00CHECKING MY SIX!A LOG OF THE PAST AS SEEN THROUGH MY WINDSCREEN.Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-62637300669945464892012-06-05T17:17:00.004-04:002013-01-01T16:26:12.180-05:00WELCOME TO THE USMC: 1964<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYpDJBJXXazcky9rCEyCKm6uqhvjKh6b0cdh2jXJ9YuBthRUvut_aVZ3F491_WeMDat7Tj3-Y-SlVVX0cQnL0KQxMmMBS7V7PtoevbkYzytErjF0NmyvWS4MOPZNGPVEH1_pkvqs4frU/s1600/f1++1965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbYpDJBJXXazcky9rCEyCKm6uqhvjKh6b0cdh2jXJ9YuBthRUvut_aVZ3F491_WeMDat7Tj3-Y-SlVVX0cQnL0KQxMmMBS7V7PtoevbkYzytErjF0NmyvWS4MOPZNGPVEH1_pkvqs4frU/s640/f1++1965.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer 1965</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBU22AJVf8xLHUWQGLaHVQJDCqnU48SNkmpSU_uCMMswtracM0wwJBGvlQnoS1xJYtN3h9nJ2WKdexnoVnQYmWV3xDVf0NAGnmAUbkb2k5ywJXDXQGYoWQakI0S9I3U322s2qxS9RTQA/s1600/f+CO+1ST+PLATOON.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBU22AJVf8xLHUWQGLaHVQJDCqnU48SNkmpSU_uCMMswtracM0wwJBGvlQnoS1xJYtN3h9nJ2WKdexnoVnQYmWV3xDVf0NAGnmAUbkb2k5ywJXDXQGYoWQakI0S9I3U322s2qxS9RTQA/s640/f+CO+1ST+PLATOON.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> First Platoon, F Company, Summer 1967</td></tr>
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On my nineteenth birthday, while on Christmas Vacation from Westtown School, I drove down to the Marine Corps Officers Selection Office in Washington D.C. When I returned home that evening I had enlisted in the Marine Platoon Leaders Course. Officially I was a PFC in the Marine Corps! I was just a kid, doing what was expected of kids in that day, signing up to serve our country. I had been living a sheltered life in a wonderful Friends boarding school in Pennsylvania. My attempts to be accepted at Annapolis had been thwarted by a lack of a local congressman to give me an appointment. My family, who were living overseas had no local US address so I had no Congressman.</div>
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Now, as a PLC I would attend OCS-like training at Quantico, Virginia during my Freshman and Junior summers at Dartmouth. These two training periods were both the most physically and mentally challenging experiences of my young life. They were also the most rewarding. After all our training, where our Platoon Sergeant had treated us as lowly maggots, unfit to wear the Marine Uniform, Staff Sergeant Parker came up to me, shook my hand, and said he would be proud to serve under me in the future. There could be no greater compliment; there could be no greater feeling of accomplishment.</div>
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During these Summers I met some strong leaders and friends. Friends who worked and suffered together. I also learned a great deal about myself. I learned the difference of being one of the guys and being a leader who trusts, values and learns from the troops he leads<br />
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I will recall some of the highlights of these summers:<br />
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At Camp Upshur, an aging and recently reactivated camp of ancient Quonset huts, located in the boonies of the Quantico Base training areas I first learned about a place called Vietnam. Both our Platoon Sergeant and Sergeant Instructor had recently returned from Nam. Staff Sergeant Ally was a veteran of both Korea and Vietnam and walked showing the affect of shrapnel collected in Korea.<br />
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<u><i><b>The Hill Trail</b></i> </u>is a place or event known and remembered with dread by all candidates who passed through Quantico. This trail hilly runs through the rugged woods over red clay near Mainside. During the Summer the heat of Virginia is staggering due to the temperatures approaching 100 degrees with the humidity close behind. The Marine Corps had a system to control what activities were allowed at certain heat levels. A Black Flag meant no physical activity was permitted. However, most days were under red-flag conditions that required Corpsmen to be nearby with children's swimming pools full of ice loaded on six-buys (trucks). Fortunately, I was a track and cross country runner who knew to gobble down tons of salt tablets and water. I actually enjoyed running the Hill Trail with pack, helmet and M-14. Sometimes the heat was so bad it looked like a sniper was in the woods as candidates fell and collapsed from the heat. The Navy Corpsmen quickly dragged the heat victims int mud puddles or the pools of ice to get the body temperature from rising to the dreaded 105 degrees that causes brain damage. The last thing you ever wanted to be was a straggler.<br />
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<i><b><u>Night in the Squad-Bay</u> </b></i>was a quite a scene. There, in two rows of bunk-beds (racks), slept about 40 exhausted and stressed candidates. At 2000 we were given the order to mount our racks. We said a prayer to Chest Puller, asked God to bless the Marine Corps and then our Sergeant would give the order: "<i><b>READY SLEEP</b></i>". And that we did - kind of. If you were awake during the night or had the fire-watch duty you would hear many talking in their sleep. One candidate would, while sound asleep, get out of his top rack and march down to the Sergeant Instructor's office which was empty at this hour. He would then carry on a long conversation and then return to his rack, crawl in, and continue to sleep. Candidate Thompson was DOR'd -dropped out- because, for some reason, the Corps did not think it wise to have an officer sleep walking through the jungles of Nam. One night I woke up in the middle of the night to find myself fully dressed in my utility uniform and boots standing at attention at the bottom of my rack. It took me a minute to figure out where I was and what I was doing. I then heard Candidate Girard, sound asleep, in the rack next to mine yelling, in the best Platoon Sergeant's voice; <i><b>"GET UP, GET UP, GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF THE RACK!"</b></i> I had heard the order in my sleep and like a good Marine responded even though both Girard and I were sound asleep. We were always exhausted. As we marched to class or chow I would look ahead and see how far it was until we would have to turn or do some other maneuver. I would then close my eyes and "nap" as we marched<i><b>.</b></i><br />
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<i><b>The Rifle Range. </b></i> Every Marine is a rifleman as explained by a by a Marine Fighter Pilot during the Korean War. He was being interviewed and was asked what his duties were. His response; " I am a Marine Rifleman but at the moment I am flying F-86s."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJc9Xh5-o5W8wpVAhfdi7_U7d4ObvKt5REGdmK0B1TaE7al2zkMhzIA4ikh-QNQsh9We33GXT9hwang5q2M_tL1u9U_cCVw5GBAp6iQNHRuDiL0u86eUkAatlKGIXh6kcdwNPrnlcW_jg/s1600/m-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJc9Xh5-o5W8wpVAhfdi7_U7d4ObvKt5REGdmK0B1TaE7al2zkMhzIA4ikh-QNQsh9We33GXT9hwang5q2M_tL1u9U_cCVw5GBAp6iQNHRuDiL0u86eUkAatlKGIXh6kcdwNPrnlcW_jg/s320/m-14.jpg" width="320" /></a>The Marines take marksmanship very seriously. A full week was dedicated to qualifying with our M-14 rifles. We were hauled from our barracks to the Rifle Range at 0 Dark Thirty in the morning. For the first two days we did not fire a round. We snapped in. That is, we sat in large circles around 50 gallon drums with targets painted all around them. We would practice sighting in on these little targets from the various shooting positions: prone, sitting, and off-hand. In each position there is an exact method of tightly wrapping the rifle sling around your arm so the weapon becomes a part of your body and will move back to where you were aiming after the rifle recoils from a shot. After couple of days of this painful contorting of the body we finally got to shoot.</div>
While half of us were on the firing line the other half were in the butts working the targets. After each shot the target is hauled down and the shot marked with a sticker so the shooter will know where he hit and can make appropriate adjustments of windage and range. If the shooter misses the target completely the Marine waves Maggy's Drawers - a red flag on a stick. It is quite an experience to be working below the target berm when 50 Marines open up with 50 rounds of rapid fire whizzing over your head.<br />
I started out really well on qualification week and was shooting in the Sharpshooter - almost Expert range. But I choked on Qual. Day and only shot Marksman.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><b>More to Come.............................................</b></i>.</span><br />
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<i><b>The Night Compass March</b></i><br />
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<i><b>Rifle Inspection</b></i><br />
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<i><b>DC</b></i></div>
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Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-35679513563954641572012-06-03T20:35:00.000-04:002012-06-05T16:44:47.341-04:00IWO JIMA BOOK INSPIRES SOME THOUGHTS<div style="text-align: justify;">
I just finished the book <i>"<b>THE BLOODY BATTLE OF SURIBACHI</b>"</i> by Richard Wheeler, a young Marine Corporal who served with EASY Company on Iwo Jima. Wheeler was in an early wave of Marines assaulting the island. Easy Company's Regiment had the mission to cut off Mt Suribachi from the rest of the Island and then assault the mountain and reach the crater on top. Suribachi was honeycombed with Japanese caves, bunkers and pillboxes defended by Japanese soldiers knowing they were fighting till their death. Days of naval bombardment and aerial bombing had done little to weaken the brave Japanese defenders. Reading of the courage of these men is awe inspiring and heart wrenching. In the face of overwhelming odds the Marines fought inch by inch up the black sand of the volcano. Wheeler was seriously wounded and evacuated early in the climb. Much of his book was related to him by his surviving friends in Easy Company who finally took Suribachi and raised the first flag atop the mountain. This Battalion took over 91% casualties. There was true purpose in this assault. It was no mere photo-op. The volcano had to be taken to eliminate Japanese observation and artillery spotting over the rest of the Island which would be fought over for the next 31 days. Iwo needed to be taken to allow US aircraft to have access to the home islands of Japan.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marines raise the first flag on Mt Suribachi</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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This book got me to thinking and to realize this country has not fought a war since WWII that was worth the life of a single Sailor, Soldier, Airman or Marine. The people of the United States certainly have made no sacrifice to support our combat since WWII. This truly was the Greatest Generation on the battlefield and, importantly, on the home front.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A larger flag was soon raised. The photograph of the second became famous worldwide.</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-22899392400208927962012-01-03T21:13:00.002-05:002012-01-11T10:47:31.568-05:00RACING IN THE BLOOD: FROM SOAP BOX DERBY TO FORMULA 1<div style="text-align: justify;">My brother just gave me a book for my birthday! In two days I devoured <i><b>"THE LIMIT, Life and Death on the 1961 Grand Prix Circuit" </b></i>by Michael Cannell. This incredible read, of the relatively earl days of F-1 racing, awakened my early memories and love for the sport.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9iuh3u30B0Qp9fzVP91uJFwb6uxfJH9pFWBhYtGG4vZn70JKePfgNTh6-fh_YgVLBYnDf2DubkwHILTstuP_bq05QN15xm2n7uNqrXKElwwQKxLgDlANfsjnJMuFqGFY0Iamaax1RXFE/s1600/Porsche+Emblem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9iuh3u30B0Qp9fzVP91uJFwb6uxfJH9pFWBhYtGG4vZn70JKePfgNTh6-fh_YgVLBYnDf2DubkwHILTstuP_bq05QN15xm2n7uNqrXKElwwQKxLgDlANfsjnJMuFqGFY0Iamaax1RXFE/s200/Porsche+Emblem.jpg" width="148" /></a>As a 5th and 6th Grader in Chevy Chase, Maryland I became friends with Gary Jani who was the Playground Director at the Lafayette playground which occupied the space of two city blocks - right across the street from our home. At that time I had a nice set of Soap Box Derby wheels upon which I built several cars. I remember hurtling down 33rd Street, past our house and down another two blocks to my friend Bob Hanson's house. It turned out that Gary was a member of the Sports Car Club of America and was active at the nearby Marlboro Raceway. He drove an old silver Porsche Speedster with a red leather interior. With his help we built a body for my wheels that resembled the current Le Mans style Porsche Racing car. Gary hand painted the Porsche emblem which was proudly attached the paper mache' nose of my racing machine!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Several times I accompanied Gary to the race track where I was able to "work" the flag stations with him. One day there was a great celebration and demonstration of the new Austin 850 - a precursor of the Mini Cooper of today. There were several races for people to witness the abilities of this neat little car. Sterling Moss, one of the all time great British racing drivers was one of the racers. I was up close and personal to this world renowned hero! I saw him flip a little Austin when it was filled with the extra ballast of 3 News reporters! My days at the track awakened my desire to drive fast! I will never forget the growl of the AC Bristols, the tiny red bubble-top Fiat Abarths, the bug eye Sprites and the Ferraris and Birdcage Maserati that showed up. As a seventh grader I read book on Car Racing by or about Juan Manuel Fangio.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_zI9iIrzUpPY_h0zi83fbTafLmZuIrhoTYjQmTECUHfoZA1wAeGPyzPgjlBiXaynaj83b7Kc9a7CcsV-_9uEUoZgi9GCZKwboQcmXxfoS71zohY2PIeaRulccKoIb-Moajbw_atzNkI/s1600/sprite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0_zI9iIrzUpPY_h0zi83fbTafLmZuIrhoTYjQmTECUHfoZA1wAeGPyzPgjlBiXaynaj83b7Kc9a7CcsV-_9uEUoZgi9GCZKwboQcmXxfoS71zohY2PIeaRulccKoIb-Moajbw_atzNkI/s640/sprite.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bug Eye Sprite Leading an MGA and Sunbeam Alpine</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBiOj3NKISBbe_Nxg0REJiCbLSvjkw8TvPCGVjH4kH1PL0JjEkt1DiLQ42vwM-_xnvuwd79eUyxwIpNFcfqE3iYPoqftRGnlXDpCO-Aid_o0BqKaIwJ2ywN4kE6KoEzEKBcWlQGcKJZ8Q/s1600/1960+fiat+abarth+record+monza+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="467" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBiOj3NKISBbe_Nxg0REJiCbLSvjkw8TvPCGVjH4kH1PL0JjEkt1DiLQ42vwM-_xnvuwd79eUyxwIpNFcfqE3iYPoqftRGnlXDpCO-Aid_o0BqKaIwJ2ywN4kE6KoEzEKBcWlQGcKJZ8Q/s640/1960+fiat+abarth+record+monza+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nicely restored Fiat Abarth</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyUzjjmeqS1NcIzoIMYnvJbw_OGZef6FzOvW2jF0LVZeYSPdyMZjgrZHN_ezcqNQO66fgBZ-SdPz-5EP8u66DlXEoiHzFL4ICVo17VTLMd_J6AEKR1_aqLSqjFng6i_r__uwKYsfaAZW4/s1600/ac+bristol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyUzjjmeqS1NcIzoIMYnvJbw_OGZef6FzOvW2jF0LVZeYSPdyMZjgrZHN_ezcqNQO66fgBZ-SdPz-5EP8u66DlXEoiHzFL4ICVo17VTLMd_J6AEKR1_aqLSqjFng6i_r__uwKYsfaAZW4/s640/ac+bristol.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt favorite: The Macho AC Bristol precursor to the Shelby Cobra</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><i>"THE LIMIT"</i></b> revealed to me the carnage of those early F-1 days when often more than one driver was killed in a single race while many spectators were also killed. In the early 1950's Mercedes quit racing after a terrible crash at Le Mans where 82 spectators were killed and over 100 more were injured. These cars with no roll bars, no seat belts and flimsy tin bodies raced at speeds around 185MPH. Today's F-1 cars are miracles of technology with incredible down force holding them on the track, cockpits built to shield and chassis built to shed parts in a crash to dissipate energy- all to protect the driver. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>XXXXXXXXXXXX</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">About five years ago I went to several driving schools, I do not have the driving skills of Alonso, Vettel or even the "older" Rubens Barichella. However I did enjoy a most thrilling experience which I will report in my next post!..............</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-58846612809444307472011-12-30T17:52:00.004-05:002011-12-31T13:48:28.300-05:00THE NEED FOR SPEED - WHEELS THROUGH THE YEARS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I have always had a love for machinery and cars. I first learned to drive tractors as a kid working on the dairy farm I described in an earlier post. At that time I was introduced to an old WWII Dodge Power-Wagon. I learned to drive this truck where every shift required double clutching because the transmission had no synchromesh. During my 17th summer I terrorized the back-roads of Chester County, Pennsylvania in my brother's 1959 VW Beetle. I was "caring for it" while he was touring Europe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I bought my first car just before graduating from College. The dealer let me have it with no payments due until I started flight training in the Summer! Of all the cars I have owned I think this is the one I would like to have back! She was a sea-foam green <b>Mustang-289</b> with the standard 3-speed on the floor. She was decked out with an 8-track with box of great tapes such as Johnny Rivers and Merle Haggard. I soon replaced the bias-ply tires with the brand new technology: Michelin Radials! Check out those driving lights in the grill. These were 400,000 candlepower aircraft landing lights from J.C. Whitney! You could feel the heat from them through your jeans standing 3 feet in front of the car. They would light up the highway for miles which was a good thing because it was fairly regularly she saw over 110MPH returning to Whiting Field from Pensacola on a barely used new section of interstate. At that time most of us didn't worry that smoking and speeding were hazardous to our health..... We thought we were all headed to 'Nam probably with one-way tickets.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The Mustang carried me from Vermont to Florida to California accumulating over 60,000 miles in 18 months.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Of all my cars this was the best... costing about what my Specialized Roubaix road bicycle costs today!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1968 MUSTANG</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">While stationed in Okinawa and Japan I ferried helicopters between the two islands. We usually bought a couple of motorcycles in Atsugi, Japan and "brought" them to Okinawa on the aft ramp of our CH-46-s. If we developed engine problems - the bikes would be the first things tossed overboard into the sea. My bike was a Yamaha-250 Enduro. We would ride these dirt bikes all over the Northern Training areas of Okinawa which were set aside as tank and artillery training areas. I sold the 250 just before I rotated home. I bought a Yamaha-360 which I shipped home. I rode it a week before selling it - knowing it was more than I could handle... I got rid of it before it killed me!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Heading to the BOQ at MCAS Futema, Okinawa</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Before returning from overseas I took advantage of a special deal for returning GIs. I ordered a beautiful Red MGB with a black removable hard top and fog lights - direct from the manufacturer in England. I would pick up the car at Boston harbor when she arrived. It is a sad story.... The delivery was about 2 months late so I had to rent a car at my new duty station, Cherry Point, NC just to get around.... but I new the wait would be well worth it! Finally the big day came. I drove up to Boston and went down to the docks. I checked in at the trailer where the stevedores worked at unloading all the cars. The supervisor asked me what my MG looked like so he could find it quickly in the dock covered with newly unloaded MGs. I described the red car and black extra roof. <i>Oh Shit! was his response. "One car was smashed against the side of the ship due to a mishap with the crane - it was yours. It is totaled."</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">To make a long story short, I traded my wreck and a few bucks for a new British Racing Green MG at a sympathetic dealer in Wellsley who had been at the docks when I learned of the disaster!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I was soon back in North Carolina in my new MG!</div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A car similar to my MGB. Mine did not have the classy wire wheels.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The MG did not last past its first oil change! While at the MG dealer I lost my heart to a used Lotus Europa even though it was an ugly yellowish color. It had a Renault double overhead cam engine with dual Weber carbs. The story was the steering wheel had come off the car Jim Clark drove at Indy. (I now doubt this) This mid-engine car was quick and handled like it was on rails.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Lotus came to its demise when a carburetor bolt sheared off while driving down the main drag at MCB Quantico. The carbs jammed at full throttle and I finally pulled over and jumped out as the RPMs passed through 11,000, about to blow up! Some Marines in the Motor-T shop at my squadron rebuilt the engine. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My First Lotus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hale's Lotus Europa John Player Special Commemorative</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Of course I did the only logical thing and traded it for a brand new Lotus John Player Special, a black car with gold pin striping commemorating Emerson Fitipaldi's recent Formula-1 Championship driving a Lotus F-1 car. This car had all the British car quality problems so I bought a VW Super Beetle as my back-up car! Remember the bumper sticker: <i>All the parts falling off this car are Genuine Lucas!</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKL6eTX86I0b-oluoEN0WG2kZ4CLO04Js8KlkxZqrIoqPESapL3bt9MRn3UoWTasxV7CcF5LYdpdCWquFqoc7gpolfNoASuId1HHIgRbO-6KuG2lYGbUFy5MH0y9T8VzVOu79WZLTIaAQ/s1600/a11fittipaldi4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKL6eTX86I0b-oluoEN0WG2kZ4CLO04Js8KlkxZqrIoqPESapL3bt9MRn3UoWTasxV7CcF5LYdpdCWquFqoc7gpolfNoASuId1HHIgRbO-6KuG2lYGbUFy5MH0y9T8VzVOu79WZLTIaAQ/s640/a11fittipaldi4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emerson Fittapaldi in the Lotus F-1</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In recent years I have attempted to rekindle the feeling of some of the higher performance cars of my past. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FORD FOCUS S.V.T. Built by Ford's Special Vehicle Team</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MINI COOPER S ... A high performer built by BMW</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Both of these cars were high performance vehicles due to modern technology: Electronic controlled systems, performance suspensions and 6 gear gearboxes. However, the reliability and performance could not match the emotional feel attached to the early Mustang, MG and Lotuses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u><i><b>Stay tuned for a blog about my very </b></i></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u><i><b>early love for sports car racing to recent experiences at the </b></i></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u><i><b>Bondurant School for High Performance Driving</b></i></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</a></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-42511498817766336582011-11-06T15:35:00.004-05:002011-11-08T17:50:41.968-05:00HMX-1: MARINE HELICOPTER SQUADRON-ONE: CH-46 MISSIONS #1<div style="text-align: justify;">As I have mentioned before the helicopter I most liked to fly and new the very best was the CH-46 Sea Knight built by Boeing-Vertol in Morton, Pennsylvania. You used to be able to see the Plant and Helicopters below you as you drove West on the Ben Franklin Bridge headed for Philly from New Jersey.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At HMX-1 we had four "46s". There numbers were MX-19, MX-20, MX-21 and MX-22 These were great aircraft that were flown on numerous missions from carrying Secret Service and support staff along with the Presidential birds. We had a cool squadron-made VIP module we could roll in the back should we want to carry a small number in relative comfort. The module had a couple of airline type seats, carpet and extra sound proofing. The same aircraft were used for combat support on training missions for officers attending the Marine Officers Basic School at Quantico. We also used these on testing equipment and technology in conjunction with the Navy Test Pilot School at Patuxent River or the Navy Weapons Center at Dahlgren, Virginia.</div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A RECENT PICTURE OF "46" IN HER SPECIAL HMX-1 LIVERY</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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When we flew these aircraft our call signs would vary depending on the current mission.<br />
<ul><li>When flying in support of the White House or flying in the Washington area we were: <i><b>NIGHTHAWK-19</b>.</i></li>
<li>When flying in support of troops at Quantico we were<i> </i>called<i> </i><b><i>SHORTSTUFF- 20 </i></b>by the "grunts on the ground.<b><i><br />
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<li>When flying outside of the area on an FAA flight plan we would be known as <b><i>MARINE HELO MX-21</i></b></li>
</ul>What made it more interesting was the need talk to the various units or organizations with whom we communicated on different radios and frequencies - all at the same time:<br />
UHF (<i>Uniform</i>) for the tower and Air Traffic Controllers, FM (<i>Fox Mike</i>) for the troops on the ground or other aircraft in your formation. Fortunately we had ADF Radios so we could listen to good country radio stations all the time - as background!<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><u>MY MOST MEMORABLE MISSION</u> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">The most memorable mission I flew in the CH-46, or in any aircraft for that matter, took place when the Prisoners of War were released from North Vietnam. These men were flown from Hanoi to Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines. From there the were flown to bases near their homes in the United States. I was the aircraft commander waiting late at night at Andrews Air Force base for the return of a Navy Commander who had spent seven years in the Hanoi Hilton. (I am so upset that I have lost my log books and my memory fails me on recalling his name.) After the briefest welcome as he stepped off the Air Force jet, he boarded our "46", MX-19. He shook our hands and we welcomed him home. I recall that he was cold, having not an ounce of natural insulation left on his body, so I lent him my flight jacket. With tears in my eyes I lifted off of the tarmac at Andrews and headed toward DC. I called Washington Tower and requested clearance for the helicopter route to Bethesda Naval Hospital. I told them that Commander "Anderson" was on board, returning from 7 years in the Hanoi Hilton. The response was: "<i>Nighthawk-19 you are cleared anywhere you want over Washington. Welcome the Commander home from all of us in Washington Tower."</i> This was unprecedented in an area of numerous restricted areas and busy commercial traffic. We gave our hero a beautiful flight right across Washington, an unbelievable sight at night from a slow moving helo flying at 1000 feet. If I was not choked up enough I was really in tears after we landed on the Bethesda Helo Pad. He thanked us again, returned my jacket and stepped off the bird into the arms of his wife and two young children - Home at last -after seven years in Hell!....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">More Tales of CH-46 Missions will follow in the days to come................ over.</div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-289821858879783682011-10-17T19:16:00.002-04:002012-04-21T20:55:46.802-04:00SPEEDY SAMMY SANCHEZWe have now really bonded with our wonderful cat. He has now been officially named <i><b>Speedy, Sammy Sanchez the Ridge-backed, Ring-tailed Red Cat. </b></i>At informal occasions he is known as <i><b>Sammy.</b></i><br />
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<u><i><b>HE'S NOT A HAMSTER HE IS SPEEDY SAMMY SAMSTER! </b></i></u></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy Sanchez checks out Kate's Clay Cat<br />
Notice the large snout and ringed tail which characterize the the Eastern Red Ringtail. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGChC2p8pp7hbyFa4-mnwLf6jj2ywzL2vtPPCJjfOgOcKwY2VF42LClE3tDU7rQYKhIvB5PtDj19uGIqiUl5pd7rsho5MkoO84ab6Jwk4vvKioNb0rqJJ22V-fWUvX5HJUpPlPk5pm-HE/s1600/in+basket.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGChC2p8pp7hbyFa4-mnwLf6jj2ywzL2vtPPCJjfOgOcKwY2VF42LClE3tDU7rQYKhIvB5PtDj19uGIqiUl5pd7rsho5MkoO84ab6Jwk4vvKioNb0rqJJ22V-fWUvX5HJUpPlPk5pm-HE/s640/in+basket.JPG" width="415" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look what I found in my In-Box.<br />
Sure prefer finding Sammy instead of more bills!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SAMMY AND HIS FRIEND SQUIRRELY</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gvUuWVLp0LcnN6wYaicuPX70gUuPqlwQBRdLSPCD_VWRou_mksi5xijyBMsNkOGbwFwkOj6lAeSv_NgASF_ebmWD2peUpnFyjHywB99wsLYBmrx0O_ddXqM-MKbs_cwYPfj7cZRWp8k/s1600/SAMMY+WATCHING+SQIRRELY.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gvUuWVLp0LcnN6wYaicuPX70gUuPqlwQBRdLSPCD_VWRou_mksi5xijyBMsNkOGbwFwkOj6lAeSv_NgASF_ebmWD2peUpnFyjHywB99wsLYBmrx0O_ddXqM-MKbs_cwYPfj7cZRWp8k/s640/SAMMY+WATCHING+SQIRRELY.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now Squirrely is out front!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsfzNhOQNBunB1s9NODLqE0f0raLeOm0zSRLKenSEPaynT5DaADeE0fh-DdUXB6HS2jKu_RhoY4v3ftb851_Hb5P_R-Gcg-5sFU7dMgDYtk_qYbExOP_QmvtARG23cP03WECShigWa4I/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="614" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsfzNhOQNBunB1s9NODLqE0f0raLeOm0zSRLKenSEPaynT5DaADeE0fh-DdUXB6HS2jKu_RhoY4v3ftb851_Hb5P_R-Gcg-5sFU7dMgDYtk_qYbExOP_QmvtARG23cP03WECShigWa4I/s640/016.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Padre with his white collar</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard at Work</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-JJo-6G7yfqHjFdWR9UELqQdU5reSxTLHxeBiHdMxtvLS1Dr9ZWpSA5brs0fNXSsvGnBBh5-K_Q-YlIsvT5IdzzcD3gpO547m-OLKpyQeUKkytyCNw3fMJVbR0A09KWb965Duh4l247E/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-JJo-6G7yfqHjFdWR9UELqQdU5reSxTLHxeBiHdMxtvLS1Dr9ZWpSA5brs0fNXSsvGnBBh5-K_Q-YlIsvT5IdzzcD3gpO547m-OLKpyQeUKkytyCNw3fMJVbR0A09KWb965Duh4l247E/s640/002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While not watching the real Blackfeather, Sammy rests with his Raven pillow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-86617497351243944572011-10-01T16:36:00.011-04:002011-10-23T15:06:58.904-04:00HMX-1: MARINE HELICOPTER SQUADRON-ONE: THE PRESIDENTIAL MISSION<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpcY6sbHhk7oJ8t8hkhYnb_Qu5QIte175of7KqBQ9Awqk99ho1tAWRFBfCJsmvzX0GU_0k4YV8tx_89lnlzmL6fU3IeQK9nX62fZC97St2gd46WDzWeTAFpdUwqrU9504VRjMSh6cdUA/s1600/hmx-+patch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXpcY6sbHhk7oJ8t8hkhYnb_Qu5QIte175of7KqBQ9Awqk99ho1tAWRFBfCJsmvzX0GU_0k4YV8tx_89lnlzmL6fU3IeQK9nX62fZC97St2gd46WDzWeTAFpdUwqrU9504VRjMSh6cdUA/s200/hmx-+patch.jpg" width="195" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had the remarkable opportunity to serve as a pilot in Marine Helicopter Squadron-One. When I checked into the squadron on 17 April 1972 I was the youngest and most junior officer, a First Lieutenant, on board! I think our C.O., Lt/Col. Richard Kuci, was a bit concerned about the kid who escaped the boonies of Cherry Point, N.C. and showed up driving a Lotus! Lucky for me, he never found out I was stopped for speeding on my way north to Quantico and had to drop a bit of cash with the local sheriff to continue on my way.<br />
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As most people know HMX-1 is known best for its glamor mission of providing all helicopter transport for POTUS (President of the United States). However, there are other very important missions which include Research and Development of systems and tactics relating to rotary wing aircraft, providing transport for lesser dignitaries such as the Vice President, Foreign Dignitaries, Admirals and Generals of all kinds. In addition we got the exciting flying involved in providing helicopter support in combat training for new Second Lieutenants attending the Marine Cops Officers Basic School in regular fleet combat type aircraft. One day you could be flying the president, who in my day was Richard Nixon, from the White House Lawn to Andrews Air Force Base where he boarded Air Force One. The next night you might be flying a CH-46 inserting a squad of Marines into a dark and tiny LZ in the tihck forests west of Quantico. "Spit and polish" to "down and dirty" in 24 hours!<br />
Unlike every other Marine Squadron where there is only one type of aircraft assigned, HMX-1 had four different types and a couple different models of one. While I was there I was an Aircraft Commander and Post Maintenance Test Pilot in the CH-46, SH-3, and the UH1E twin engined Huey. I also sometimes flew as copilot in the CH-53 Sea Stallion - the first bird to fly over 200 MPH. Flying the huge and cumbersome "53", to me, was like driving a pig! There was never time for anything to become routine!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">A quote I recently heard from a current HMX-1 Commanding Officer was: <b><i>"This Squadron is a group of unremarkable Marines performing a remarkable mission."</i></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I will be relating many of my memories of my tour with HMX-1.<br />
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A look at this video will prepare you for the sea-stories that will follow.</div><div style="color: #20124d; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7rofeek3dw</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgud3WuWgNR21RgxKT7L1h29VZSr4nuje9slt9NXJPD3Qd-0fyQaVVBFWmJGkY5o92aHQBM4VAyJSyv3PYLUITuRXt14oWKvDr0eouzkVavS9IJ-F6ZHVqPwIm5-JnFPQDi_aRRrXzyLgk/s1600/marine-one-white-house-lawn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgud3WuWgNR21RgxKT7L1h29VZSr4nuje9slt9NXJPD3Qd-0fyQaVVBFWmJGkY5o92aHQBM4VAyJSyv3PYLUITuRXt14oWKvDr0eouzkVavS9IJ-F6ZHVqPwIm5-JnFPQDi_aRRrXzyLgk/s640/marine-one-white-house-lawn.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Official Photo of Marine-One leaving the White House<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6nbOnwnAaBs_bo5siSb5JUPC53wksoQp9LbNSa_2-tRPtI0oMbJkOzk4EgHWf0t4A_TKehu_UdIHCWTH19hu1kIWvmKus0Xw8o2pciTfVCkzOn3M7eRM1WvbHevedIMgkXXqX6qfdq1Y/s1600/NIGHTHAWK+ALERT+BIRD006.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6nbOnwnAaBs_bo5siSb5JUPC53wksoQp9LbNSa_2-tRPtI0oMbJkOzk4EgHWf0t4A_TKehu_UdIHCWTH19hu1kIWvmKus0Xw8o2pciTfVCkzOn3M7eRM1WvbHevedIMgkXXqX6qfdq1Y/s640/NIGHTHAWK+ALERT+BIRD006.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unofficial shot of an alert bird going out for its daily exercise.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Every co-pilot on Marine-one was required to have minimum of 1,000 flight hours. Because I had spent my previous year flying a desk at Cherry Point I was bit short of flight-time; I was assigned to fly every mission possible so I could quickly become qualified as a Presidential Co-pilot. I then went through "Saturation Training". At the time the country was living under the threat of the H-Bomb and the Cold War. There is nothing quite like being jarred awake by a siren and lights flashing on - jumping into your flight suit and boots- running down the stairs and running to one of the three aircraft which were being towed from the hanger. Anyway, the result is a heart rate of around 185 B.P.M. and the realization that you are now awake and flying an aircraft at about 150 feet and 130 knots over Haines Point in route to the designated pick-up point! We joked about the black tire marks our birds would make on the Washington Monument as we cranked in a sharp steep turn headed for the Capitol building.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIR1qTxAnA0BQhOu6hRks88j8N8EbkWqRpe_GYZDU5O75I-xn06DHMmJafWfM-L44jXbx347KvVf9xOfbrLP0jBILSG1sKt550P6ugfltAJKTORGIGYDzoinnWLF-aVC_SR0mlWtOaZRI/s1600/3208365788_f26109687e_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIR1qTxAnA0BQhOu6hRks88j8N8EbkWqRpe_GYZDU5O75I-xn06DHMmJafWfM-L44jXbx347KvVf9xOfbrLP0jBILSG1sKt550P6ugfltAJKTORGIGYDzoinnWLF-aVC_SR0mlWtOaZRI/s640/3208365788_f26109687e_o.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
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As you know "the bomb" never went off but we were all ready to play our part in the ridiculous scenario should it have! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYAr_EsveCxej9wbhWAfdaKlXfldZ4wFKrjNXTB9pPuUjq-dcxrQg9yIdPIkj1sL_WgiLr64JMLQrg5Zi3_Prj_184CMiDW86dCAdL8FfDW8lFkZSY5_ZfUksldewg7bZPL231SESIaM/s1600/4619297300_d3601e8ce9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYAr_EsveCxej9wbhWAfdaKlXfldZ4wFKrjNXTB9pPuUjq-dcxrQg9yIdPIkj1sL_WgiLr64JMLQrg5Zi3_Prj_184CMiDW86dCAdL8FfDW8lFkZSY5_ZfUksldewg7bZPL231SESIaM/s640/4619297300_d3601e8ce9.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It has a different feeling in the black of night - barely awake from a sound sleep - before the SAS, stabilization equipment, warms up and comes on line!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">In addition to the normal activities of flying my experience was made more memorable by the stresses and variables created in the White House due to the Watergate Scandal. I remember a friend flying John Erlichmann and HR Halderman to Camp David where the President fired them! I flew the President and Pat Nixon back to the White House Lawn late the night after he fired Special Watergate Prosecutor, Archibald Cox. The President's world was crumbling and I could see the weight in the way he and his poor wife walked alone from the aircraft across the lawn to the White House. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2Ow-Lp8zKQ7x4s4U_mBd76NedKMWZqK-HD6kEnFeF1A77DQvJewKO8WcQYs0YX9gwHwyjoADG_l8OyZaZkZHOavb_qxnjmTIkKtDHrGLAEzMMA6PERbZGoCLZhZtmwc6tJmFwO58rUA/s1600/nixon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2Ow-Lp8zKQ7x4s4U_mBd76NedKMWZqK-HD6kEnFeF1A77DQvJewKO8WcQYs0YX9gwHwyjoADG_l8OyZaZkZHOavb_qxnjmTIkKtDHrGLAEzMMA6PERbZGoCLZhZtmwc6tJmFwO58rUA/s640/nixon.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6iKlzFQFqsLVisXtf0ckJ1Z5gkSPigIPps_S4G2-jDNQGJfjSGzmR7Esnd_KgmlNTwnUrq0uYE5nIcC7Aa0MuZ1xvsffOWGdYQBLg_INS-atSnJIljwKhDeek1xTQCQqY5fWb9cCUF8/s1600/WELCOME+ABOARD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6iKlzFQFqsLVisXtf0ckJ1Z5gkSPigIPps_S4G2-jDNQGJfjSGzmR7Esnd_KgmlNTwnUrq0uYE5nIcC7Aa0MuZ1xvsffOWGdYQBLg_INS-atSnJIljwKhDeek1xTQCQqY5fWb9cCUF8/s400/WELCOME+ABOARD.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Enough for now. .....More later</div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-76706994169226489432011-07-20T15:39:00.003-04:002011-07-20T15:48:53.305-04:00THE BREAK IS OVER! BACK TO WORK..........><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, it's back to work, part-time, working as an outside contractor doing the same work I did before I "retired". I do also hope to catch up on my blogging!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Click this link!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihj_3tMzS6Vp42TxvwoyZg5LhEUzE3CP9aX9hfEAKT0ErGqFEVd86_ByNcAzVA08tPuabYdHfg-DRp8e2eseFq-MokAyOfVBor2N8BM-mlost_9AS5bUea-l3G-qPRm1IH8rL7CuuDUDE/s1600/IMG_0408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TSn9pXJjRi0">Merle telling it as it is!</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqGWK96vDo9cRe2C-TleJnYeMcSVwlanIhkuNw23hyNxDJhwV_NfqtqdbO4IPNNPousYMddFjz1bL8XHd7vlfx9eN9s1-BLsTyl5LqMVF0OqC9uZ_y8MZiuldRBmOtF8s5CkyJuynpvs/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span id="goog_800698502"></span><span id="goog_800698503"></span>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-21769640018871774512011-07-15T14:14:00.002-04:002011-08-10T15:09:52.332-04:00ADOPTION!<div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcGtryFQPMEFPFlG6ayTZFz8Ck_FtHJDJC9QS6P9i9ANGLyRvn3t41xXj68QgNgFSGfeiyU9Ep7w4oeSA8zwRyIECjB_X5YKdKHWQeHKtNuNfBTHUqIQW4VGVSChtfNN3zkjCkV8ySS0/s1600/003+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcGtryFQPMEFPFlG6ayTZFz8Ck_FtHJDJC9QS6P9i9ANGLyRvn3t41xXj68QgNgFSGfeiyU9Ep7w4oeSA8zwRyIECjB_X5YKdKHWQeHKtNuNfBTHUqIQW4VGVSChtfNN3zkjCkV8ySS0/s640/003+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard at work doing his day job! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Susan and I are proud to announce the adoption of a fine feline family-member! He has not been named yet. He is as stealthy as an F-117 Wobbly Goblin and quick and agile as an F-15 Eagle. We will keep you posted as we get to know him better an select a name!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6d397SW74yEGTbwY7M0efEeZzqxxyLbRLfCi90Cv_jCNI_teXUh8BhENPZM8rMJbdFnWeBhhgzOOYq8L2bAce06K7sRjZdjQtZQ7bJA6rbIVQvjyDGQ84DLjl8-6MyDqTi4GR4rlkrQ/s1600/with+raven+pillow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6d397SW74yEGTbwY7M0efEeZzqxxyLbRLfCi90Cv_jCNI_teXUh8BhENPZM8rMJbdFnWeBhhgzOOYq8L2bAce06K7sRjZdjQtZQ7bJA6rbIVQvjyDGQ84DLjl8-6MyDqTi4GR4rlkrQ/s640/with+raven+pillow.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfEn9niolQinqFSw6ZtRGOzkZWDuQAUA3voE0aYnPv6FfGH4E_7IE4NYC4EdSZk1etnRgFW-sN5FLXShc0Ijz9gZEbvwLMWHsSTRh5D6ORh8AiX1zxSqjLywRS1dkFg_oY4RorOPQS_8/s1600/tommy4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfEn9niolQinqFSw6ZtRGOzkZWDuQAUA3voE0aYnPv6FfGH4E_7IE4NYC4EdSZk1etnRgFW-sN5FLXShc0Ijz9gZEbvwLMWHsSTRh5D6ORh8AiX1zxSqjLywRS1dkFg_oY4RorOPQS_8/s640/tommy4.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-67664998965656509112011-07-11T17:01:00.001-04:002011-07-11T17:04:02.737-04:00WE ARE PROUD TO ANNOUNCE:<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Our extended family of Blackfeather and Blackbeauty have brought their newly fledged children to our woods! </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMHKpBBLLetkkO542odTySngtpsoiiyUu1iNxCfRoCDOJX8yxw6AoFvjFYGtaZylze8CPQ2L7Sfg12enIacLbJ0s_AmEEGzlPlgMjoKFC_hu53OJaaC0gmeI2Qw84hjyK-H4u85X5A04/s1600/ravens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="473" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiMHKpBBLLetkkO542odTySngtpsoiiyUu1iNxCfRoCDOJX8yxw6AoFvjFYGtaZylze8CPQ2L7Sfg12enIacLbJ0s_AmEEGzlPlgMjoKFC_hu53OJaaC0gmeI2Qw84hjyK-H4u85X5A04/s640/ravens.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackfeather and Blackbeauty</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have been feeding this pair of ravens for about 12 years! At Christmas, years ago, we put a turkey carcass out in the snow of our backyard to feed the birds. Soon Blackfeather and his wife swooped in and worked together devouring the meat off the carcass, One raven would hold the carcass while the other picked and pulled the meat from the bones. Of course they got a bit greasing doing this so they waddled up to the top of the small hill in our yard. They then lay down and rolled down the hill in the snow. After rolling in the snow three times they cuddled in the sunlight with their necks intertwined. Ever since then we have put out chicken eggs, scraps, and any treats we have for them to eat. They come every day and sit in our trees croaking or cawing until we come out and feed them! If they are not waiting when we put out the food a few human "caw, caw, caws" will bring them in. These guys are smart and efficient. If they find a bunch of crackers scattered on the grass they will carefully stack them up so they can carry a large beakful off to their stash. If Blackfeather finds two donuts he puts his beak through the doughnut hole of one and clamps down on the second one so he can fly away - at max gross weight- hauling both doughnuts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sLyS5EmUlCOp5tU4GE-B2pKb3GI5NO-uY6Az_DgZyxYkJ0k8CliIsENWyzD0i9rYE2aEkDsnMEyB2-zq18itz8FM5TWeTtni52D0sTB9jrbro4ll8inolXh-gU4N5eW12Vuu0vaJvxs/s1600/juvies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sLyS5EmUlCOp5tU4GE-B2pKb3GI5NO-uY6Az_DgZyxYkJ0k8CliIsENWyzD0i9rYE2aEkDsnMEyB2-zq18itz8FM5TWeTtni52D0sTB9jrbro4ll8inolXh-gU4N5eW12Vuu0vaJvxs/s640/juvies.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Juvies; Larry, Curly, Mo and Maureen</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">We have been privileged and proud that our friends bring their children to our woods every June. These guys are real terrors as they are just learning to find food and live outside the nest. This year Larry, Curly, Mo and Maureen grace us with their raucous squawking as they buzz around the edge of our yard and woods. They are always under the watchful eyes of Blackfeather and Blackbeauty who croak and caw to them as they try to keep them under control. The dignified manner of the parents is strikingly contrasted to the wild "teenagers".</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here at Molly Supple House we are blessed by many wild creatures who must know this is a safe place where they are loved. They must know their visits are more welcome than visits from the human species.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have had visits from Cowinkle the Moose and her Baby, Cubby and her two cubs, countless deer and fawns, Tom Turkey with his harem of hens, and visits from Woodsy the Owl are common. Of course, those masked marauders of the night, Raccoons stop by with their young as do the Hummers who return every year on May 5th! Susan even saw a catamount one afternoon several years ago.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tom and one of his harem</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woodsy Owl</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cubby and her two yearling cubs</td></tr>
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</div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-70535854494441304262011-06-29T10:25:00.002-04:002011-06-29T15:13:44.522-04:00HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfwZLfsOM1wAwTSkIaBXVec1QajfSG41XncMRh6BY_Gn05QVjWwRcwXEVrPwRU9UgGagCd86liCvc3q-_r2FYGLcpRF4woS-Ld2D_jJDLb0D3_yVNmZsoOgpVz13f0lQOYR3Y1nGH9eE/s1600/lacsa_dc6.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frank Irwin, Infantry, 10th Mountain Division, November 1943</td></tr>
</tbody></table>My father, Henry Franklin Irwin Jr. was born on July first 1914 in Newark, New Jersey. My first real memory of him was when he took my brother and me fishing in a creek or pond near our new tiny house in Virginia - an area that has now been over-run with urban sprawl. At the time he was working in Army Intelligence at the Pentagon.<br />
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Frank was a typical man of the <i>Greatest Generation.</i> He seldom or never talked about himself or his past. What I know I have gathered from various conversations or stories from my Mom, Josephine, or an anecdote or two from him.<br />
He graduated from Dartmouth College in 1937 and soon earned a PHD in English from Princeton. He wrote his thesis on John Milton, arguably the best 17th Century English author. Somewhere in these younger years he worked in the railroad yards keeping track of railroad cars and their loads. I am not exactly clear of his activities during World War II. While he was training, teaching and in combat my Mother lived in base housing at Edgewood Arsenal in Maryland with my aunt and their young children. My brother, Terry, was one of 4 cousins living in that household. In 1945, at the end of the war, I was born at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGozdX_JFvejoXOOlGaX9HaauCTNkiq0jtpqAXbD3Ys6-W8-mGmuwH24OH9j42V_ZsFluncgi3e6AVNx4rPvBhjwDfXburJmUpolzntHrYmZeMpUXiffzVltFKEB0XDe3WUeVvzPUEvL4/s1600/10MountainDivCSIB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGozdX_JFvejoXOOlGaX9HaauCTNkiq0jtpqAXbD3Ys6-W8-mGmuwH24OH9j42V_ZsFluncgi3e6AVNx4rPvBhjwDfXburJmUpolzntHrYmZeMpUXiffzVltFKEB0XDe3WUeVvzPUEvL4/s1600/10MountainDivCSIB.jpg" /></a>Dad and many of the Dartmouth men at that time were recruited into the 10th Mountain Division because of their familiarity with skiing. He was sent to Camp Hale in Colorado for training. This camp was in a valley surrounded by several mountains where all the coal smoke from their stoves settled and polluted the air. My understanding is the bad air brought on a relapse of TB. Because of his health problem Dad was transferred out of the 10th Mountain Division. All he ever said to me is that if he had not been transferred the likelihood of my birth would have been very doubtful because of the horrible losses this unit took fighting heroically through Italy.</div><br />
At some point I know he taught English to Spanish speaking troops in Puerto Rico.<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Somewhere he saw action in North Africa. This is something he never discussed or talked about. All he ever said in reference to this was his hearing problems were caused by artillery barrages. I do not know if he was the sender or receiver of this arty. I believe this experience to be such that he did not want to discuss it, or for that matter, ever remember it.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCo929hDcgUDQntuNpcZAIcMdWFIJis3BMM0utCSqVGxlsEx8HdZGiGGoQQGLg5OatIJxfYhZOugeb-Y1GVdlirsKt-j-B3oznZM57e5F-LLCunBPxugKj-YKF6YXK2iFefbOaQk7ct0s/s1600/DAD%252C+LBJ%252C+DEAN+RUSK.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCo929hDcgUDQntuNpcZAIcMdWFIJis3BMM0utCSqVGxlsEx8HdZGiGGoQQGLg5OatIJxfYhZOugeb-Y1GVdlirsKt-j-B3oznZM57e5F-LLCunBPxugKj-YKF6YXK2iFefbOaQk7ct0s/s400/DAD%252C+LBJ%252C+DEAN+RUSK.JPG" width="355" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad, President Johnson, Secretary of State Dean Rusk</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">My father as, many of the men of that time, were motivated by god, duty and country. Unfortunately, the responsibility and stress of his duties did not leave him much time or energy to give in the family department. At the end of his military career Dad worked for the United States Information Service and later became a Foreign Service Officer and served in various capacities in U.S. Embassies in Scotland, Honduras and Costa Rica. He was a Latin American Advisor for Adlai Stevenson at the United Nations. He later served as Senior Watch Officer at the State Department in Washington. In this position he was the first State Department contact when crises exploded around the world.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Throughout his life Frank was active in his church. converting from Catholicism, he was confirmed an Episcopalian in the Washington National Cathedral. </div><br />
Let me recount a few anecdotes I recall hearing about. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfwZLfsOM1wAwTSkIaBXVec1QajfSG41XncMRh6BY_Gn05QVjWwRcwXEVrPwRU9UgGagCd86liCvc3q-_r2FYGLcpRF4woS-Ld2D_jJDLb0D3_yVNmZsoOgpVz13f0lQOYR3Y1nGH9eE/s1600/lacsa_dc6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;">Just prior to the Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba there was an Organization of American States meeting scheduled to be held in San Jose, Costa Rica. President Kennedy would attend and their would be discussions of how to deal with the new revolutionary in Cuba, Fidel Castro. Dad was to carry a briefcase of secret and classified documents to the meeting. Of course he was scheduled to fly directly to San Jose from Miami. Unfortunately The LACSA Airways DC-6 had an engine problem and the pilot announced they would be making an emergency landing in Havana. Dad took the briefcase into the lavatory and removed the most dangerous documents and slid them under his shirt and suit coat. Passengers deplaned and waited for several hours while repairs were made to the aircraft. Upon becoming airborne it was obvious that Castro agents had rifled through the documents left as a decoy. We always wondered what would have happened if Castro had found the secret documents beneath Dad's shirt.</li>
</ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfwZLfsOM1wAwTSkIaBXVec1QajfSG41XncMRh6BY_Gn05QVjWwRcwXEVrPwRU9UgGagCd86liCvc3q-_r2FYGLcpRF4woS-Ld2D_jJDLb0D3_yVNmZsoOgpVz13f0lQOYR3Y1nGH9eE/s1600/lacsa_dc6.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfwZLfsOM1wAwTSkIaBXVec1QajfSG41XncMRh6BY_Gn05QVjWwRcwXEVrPwRU9UgGagCd86liCvc3q-_r2FYGLcpRF4woS-Ld2D_jJDLb0D3_yVNmZsoOgpVz13f0lQOYR3Y1nGH9eE/s320/lacsa_dc6.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<ul><li> While stationed in Costa Rica my father and a colleague, Mr. Bill Jones, who supposedly was the U.S. Agriculture Attache' took a tour by jeep through northern Costa Rica into Nicaragua. This was at a time when Nicaragua feared an invasion or infiltration of the country by Castro. It just so happened on their ride that they met a local town leader who invited them in for lunch. They got to know each other. Several days later while driving back on these back roads or trails Dad and Mr. Jones were ambushed by Nicaraguan militia. Their plan was to hang them! They were marched down the path to a tree. attempts to show U.S. Identification were thwarted by the young Nicaraguans - they thought Dad was reaching for a pistol. However, as fate would have it, the Nicaraguan gentleman that fed Dad and Bill several days earlier came along and explained that these two strangers were Americans not Cuban spies!</li>
</ul><div style="text-align: justify;">Wherever we were stationed we were never sure who did what in the embassy. A question of what does Jimmy's dad do would often answered with the euphemism, "he works upstairs." As far as I know my Dad was a regular Diplomat representing the United State to foreign countries.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Frank retired from the State Department when I was in College. Mom and Dad moved to Middlebury Vermont where he became Director of Admissions at Middlebury College. In the years to come he served as President of both Lyndon and Castleton State Colleges. He finally retired for real and moved, with his new wife to live near Dartmouth, the college he loved so much. He actually taught a course on John Milton for the English Department in his late years.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Unfortunately, my father succumbed to the great fog of Alzheimer's. I lost my Dad about 3 years before he died on June 30, 1992 - one day before his 78th birthday. A scholar and a true intellect no longer recognized his son. I regret that I did not have those years to get to know him better and learn more details of his past.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I believe that the values of my father have influenced who I am more than I ever realized until recently. I inherited his honor and dedication to service and duty. Never one to look for a job where the goal was making money; I have always been drawn to work that served others.</div><br />
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD. I miss you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjafjriYyRMI5cA5qr2yyeeUGRR8CrTSWtJIMYRXEGIQU7KSLcHIHSLqA0zBUS9l2kcO7eT36dHMMkRtOOOxvaW2rpLS8hjp72ZATYLhZZj85OXeDdz59WtS4xzk7bK_JPJiuMzEyzY7-s/s1600/DAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjafjriYyRMI5cA5qr2yyeeUGRR8CrTSWtJIMYRXEGIQU7KSLcHIHSLqA0zBUS9l2kcO7eT36dHMMkRtOOOxvaW2rpLS8hjp72ZATYLhZZj85OXeDdz59WtS4xzk7bK_JPJiuMzEyzY7-s/s640/DAD.jpg" width="448" /></a></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-61970861676021660342011-06-14T20:21:00.004-04:002011-06-15T10:35:38.046-04:00PMIP - FAWPRA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCttADlblovQS9SZ_ULuS2qJctphpjoaHO9GM3WC6yPyjKEaqXYcn9Q8wxUyAeTohF6e63bXWCPUF4AovVHtTKGSdcqcUN38uDfpUdYWyktWKWc6RY2ndClgxC3fi3pH-wAOTyPpQsA1g/s1600/leather+flight+jacket.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After serving with the Fuji Detachment in Japan I returned to H&MS-36 in Okinawa. Here my primary duty was as a <b>PMIP (Post Maintenance Inspection Pilot)</b> on CH-46s. Every time maintenance is done on an aircraft a PMIP must flight test the bird and sign it off before it can be assigned back to the regular flight schedule. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCttADlblovQS9SZ_ULuS2qJctphpjoaHO9GM3WC6yPyjKEaqXYcn9Q8wxUyAeTohF6e63bXWCPUF4AovVHtTKGSdcqcUN38uDfpUdYWyktWKWc6RY2ndClgxC3fi3pH-wAOTyPpQsA1g/s1600/leather+flight+jacket.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCttADlblovQS9SZ_ULuS2qJctphpjoaHO9GM3WC6yPyjKEaqXYcn9Q8wxUyAeTohF6e63bXWCPUF4AovVHtTKGSdcqcUN38uDfpUdYWyktWKWc6RY2ndClgxC3fi3pH-wAOTyPpQsA1g/s320/leather+flight+jacket.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We also received damaged and tired aircraft from the combat zone in Vietnam. These aircraft were shipped to Okinawa on barges and rolled off on a beach about 15 minutes flight time from our base at Futema. These birds had all the windows broken out of them so the grunts could shoot out of them. Heaters had been removed to get rid of extra weight All the birds were covered with lots of little tin patches on the fuselage covering holes made by AK-47s, shrapnel and other such harmful devices! Rice was found beneath the floor panels among other things revealing the rough history of these birds and the Marines that had flown in them. We held our breath, prayed, and flew these aircraft to Futema hoping the fuel gauges worked and the engines would run for the required 20-30 minutes! I recall one time flaming out one of the two engines as we taxied off the runway to our flight line due to faulty fuel gauges.<br />
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Over the next weeks the aircraft were checked over as best they could be to prepare them for a five hour over-water flight to the southern tip of Japan. As a test pilot I lead at least three two-bird flights from Okinawa to Atsugi Japan where they would undergo major overhaul. We would then fly repaired helicopters back to Okinawa. We worked very closely with the weather-guessers to choose a day where the winds would be favorable. We joked that the weather prognosticators could not even predict rain if they looked out the window and saw it raining. However, they gave us very detailed wind estimates for various altitudes. It was the command pilot's decision when to go. The flights were done by dead-reckoning (SWAG) because at our low altitude we could pick up no navigational aids. The aircraft were loaded with two huge auxiliary internal fuel tanks that, with luck and good winds, would provide us adequate fuel to reach a Japanese base at the Southern tip of Japan.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CH-46 Loaded with Fuel Tanks for Flight to Japan - Hope we got enough!</td></tr>
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One time we landed with less than 15 minutes fuel remaining! The tough part of these flights was we could not smoke with the internal tanks on board and we were COLD - flying in the winter with no heat, missing windows wearing summer flight suits!<br />
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After a layover at MCAS Iwakuni, we topped off our tanks and flew East - turning North around Mt Fuji to land at Atsugi about 10 miles inland from Yokohama. We turned over the aircraft to NIPPI, the Japanese Contractor doing heavy overhaul work for <b>FAWPRA: Fleet Air Wing Pacific Rework Activity</b>.<br />
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After "cheating death" on at least 3 of these round trips I was transferred to Atsugi to be a test pilot working with NIPPI (Nippon Aircraft Corporation) as they overhauled Marine and Navy aircraft. This was an exciting job working with the Japanese mechanics testing the helicopters after they underwent total tear down and rebuild. These people did outstanding work. After a month an aircraft that looked like it should be headed to a junk yard rolled out of the factory looking brand new.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No - not headed to the junk yard</td></tr>
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Our responsibility was to flight test them and make sure they flew like new! My <i>sign-off </i>was the official acceptance of the aircraft back to to the Marine Corps. It was an awesome responsibility and I made every effort to be sure everything was perfect because the lives of others would be held in the balance for years to come.<br />
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A month after leaving Atsugi and returning to the States I was shocked to hear about a horrible crash in one of the birds I had tested. The aircraft was air taxiing at Yokota Air Force base after picking up passengers. As it hover taxied in front of a Transport Airplane the CH-46 suddenly came apart, and self destructed in mid air, killing all on board. Evidently, a part in the rear transmission was installed improperly, the transmission seized, the rotors inter-meshed and that was all she wrote. Unfortunately this was something no amount of test flying could reveal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4pR_AkEI2RJrzq51KmY4w1JzQ_Vge9qCYFjiEPX94v8bVpw7xlBO6dNgjTY6ivA9fd51QzDyt7BVR0JsqMY52EleJQkyD9nwZvKr_dL9D3zxch1-V06wR57AsxLaWV6j6QGoWWn9bik/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4pR_AkEI2RJrzq51KmY4w1JzQ_Vge9qCYFjiEPX94v8bVpw7xlBO6dNgjTY6ivA9fd51QzDyt7BVR0JsqMY52EleJQkyD9nwZvKr_dL9D3zxch1-V06wR57AsxLaWV6j6QGoWWn9bik/s640/003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The author with two Nippi Mechanics on Flight Line at Atsugi</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nippi Flight Line Mechanics Removing and Engine</td></tr>
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</div>My 13 month tour overseas was over. I had done some hairy mountain and over-water flying in Japan and Okinawa. I had learned the CH-46's workings as well as I new my own body. I understood the electrical systems, hydraulic systems, the engine parameters and the the balancing of rotor systems. I really loved the single pilot flying as a test pilot; the detail and accuracy required and the great responsibility I had been given. I may not have flown in Vietnam but I certainly had done my best to support the aircrews that did.<br />
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Little did I know that my next year at MCAS Cherry Point, North Carolina would be the exact opposite as I learned to fly the standard grey GI Mark One, Mod.2 desk..... I was pushing paper!<br />
I did not like it<br />
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A year of administrative work prompted me to write my detailer at Headquarters Marine Corps and ask for an "early out". I asked to leave the Marine Corps early before my regular 3 years would be up!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Stay tuned - the best was yet to come.</b></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-69384923137664071562011-06-09T20:24:00.005-04:002014-12-11T11:14:55.044-05:00WESTPAC 1970<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSiAh6Z2CE4wCjJh2sYI5yuN-QPEqiwu8rerjq6pRzaYzG8U2cZDDCscfJmJvtpLqlzyO7Y8S4jfpZ4LfB9F6ZksSv_hxheWiwluZVr26di5jXWdR2Xr9I0OoxA4ohMWsbXuSLu3im08/s1600/H%2526MS-36+Patch.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSiAh6Z2CE4wCjJh2sYI5yuN-QPEqiwu8rerjq6pRzaYzG8U2cZDDCscfJmJvtpLqlzyO7Y8S4jfpZ4LfB9F6ZksSv_hxheWiwluZVr26di5jXWdR2Xr9I0OoxA4ohMWsbXuSLu3im08/s200/H%2526MS-36+Patch.JPG" height="200" width="193" /></a>Upon completion of training in the CH-46 at HMMT-302 in California I was a "qualified" co-pilot with orders to the First Marine Aircraft Wing in Danang, Vietnam. My expectations were simple. I expected to fly medevac, resupply, and recon team extraction missions. The scariest thoughts were associated with flying night emergency medevac missions.<br />
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I also never expected to see my 25th birthday.<br />
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At a stopover at Camp Courtney in Okinawa where we were to get more shots and jungle utilities I learned that my orders were changed to Headquarters and Maintenance Squadron-36 based in Futema, Okinawa. The Marine Corps was drawing down forces from Vietnam. Squadrons and troops were beginning to pull out.<br />
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I never did go to Vietnam. I never flew any combat missions. I have never, over the past 40 years, lost that twinge of guilt for not serving in Vietnam with my brother Marines. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cpl. Deckard, 1/Lt. Irwin, Sgt. Jones FUJI DET</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maj. Hank Kunkel, THE HEAD HAULER</td></tr>
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I was soon transferred to N.A.F. Atsugi, Japan where I flew with a three bird detachment that provided logistical and medevac support for a Marine Artillery Training Base at the base of Mount Fuji. The Fuji Detachment was a great place to learn and grow. There were 3 Ch-46s, seven pilots and approximately 12 mechanics all working in a very close team. <br />
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Our O.I.C. Major Hank Kunkel, was one of the most outstanding men I had the privilege of serving under. With a great sense of humor and a great trust and respect for all of us he gave us all - all the responsibility we could handle. He taught us how to really fly the Phrog and be good Marine Officers. The Major was an example of the leader I wanted to become - where the troops come first. With his training I soon became an Aircraft Commander.<br />
Our great love and respect for this man brought about the unit"s nickname: <i><b>HANK'S HAULERS - YOU CALL WE HAUL</b>. </i>Our patch depicted a Marine 6X6 Truck with rotors flying in front of Mt. Fuji.<br />
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In researching for my blog I was saddened to learn that this fine man, who had now retired, succumbed to Cancer after serving 4 tours in Southeast Asia.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hank's Haulers at a Hail and Farewell Picnic </td></tr>
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While in this Detachment we had the opportunity to fly throughout the Tokyo, Yokohama, Mt Fuji area of Japan. One day we might fly senior officers to and from Hardy Barracks - a headquarters in the middle of downtown Tokyo. The next day we would be supporting artillery Marines at Mt Fuji. We saw "Mother Watanebe's fort, a fort protestors had built in the northern impact area of one of the ranges to keep the Marines from using that area. We raced the Bullet Train which could outrun the "46" at it's max 150 MPH. Whatever needed to be hauled or delivered - the Fuji Det did it. You Call - We Haul!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PHROG at Camp Fuji</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready One!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt Fuji with rice paddys in the foreground<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother Watanabe's "Fort"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View on way into Tokyo from about 500'</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out flying to Camp Fuji.. ..Hope he's wearing ear plugs!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> -</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vg7Vzapocsroa5PqE9ZkNO7yT6b2cQk0b17yFYPdOgIflHC10Yj1piyyKYgBR-moAKkiwx_yRg9fP1wHHpwGbqwtc3bvjRmDQyJNedHuVsgXuOEP8pJ0tfYmkgz6ot7dOChS_zo31r4/s1600/GREENBERG+CH-46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2vg7Vzapocsroa5PqE9ZkNO7yT6b2cQk0b17yFYPdOgIflHC10Yj1piyyKYgBR-moAKkiwx_yRg9fP1wHHpwGbqwtc3bvjRmDQyJNedHuVsgXuOEP8pJ0tfYmkgz6ot7dOChS_zo31r4/s640/GREENBERG+CH-46.jpg" height="482" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Hank's Haulers headed to work<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1LzrgYf1y0NMSJGHkScyiSoeFugcc_UxnTrkbPFJq1XFsNbSIQld5AAOLGl65fJMZbjOQKD9J7tQZzbo2X6MvrU0sN-uE-pLlhIcwTe_wSjwR16qukNPAINQ8a7bR-H00XHZxzTUGsw/s1600/DECKER%252C+IREWIN+JONESY%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1LzrgYf1y0NMSJGHkScyiSoeFugcc_UxnTrkbPFJq1XFsNbSIQld5AAOLGl65fJMZbjOQKD9J7tQZzbo2X6MvrU0sN-uE-pLlhIcwTe_wSjwR16qukNPAINQ8a7bR-H00XHZxzTUGsw/s1600/DECKER%252C+IREWIN+JONESY%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-37342343025415564872011-06-06T19:44:00.002-04:002011-06-09T09:15:07.794-04:00LEGACY OF THE CALF<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQxEWHVoXLeVQhD5vn32mPEwkYufd92Qlr1EKWRTABDm57qXPS2aKCFlH7tSFD-n5bGM5yM8-vZ-mqXl76LmK8NE6jID8cpQeKBpZNIRnXWvF8gjpA147zFOXh9n_KG9N_fy429qWR-E/s1600/cow+calf..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQxEWHVoXLeVQhD5vn32mPEwkYufd92Qlr1EKWRTABDm57qXPS2aKCFlH7tSFD-n5bGM5yM8-vZ-mqXl76LmK8NE6jID8cpQeKBpZNIRnXWvF8gjpA147zFOXh9n_KG9N_fy429qWR-E/s320/cow+calf..jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
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After completing my last post I recalled that one of the most rewarding events in my farming experience was delivering a calf. Young heifers, giving birth to their long legged calves, can often have problems and need help. I had seen Dave help deliver a calf several times. Thus, I was not at a total loss when I came across a young cow unable to deliver her baby. I quickly got some baler twine and reached inside the mom and looped the rope around the calves' front legs. Then carefully pulling and guiding the legs first and then the head I then pulled as she pushed. We soon had another beautiful black and white baby Holstein who would grow up to produce hundreds of pounds of milk per week.<br />
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When I left the Marine Corps my family moved to the country and lived in an old one-room schoolhouse in Thetford, Vermont. My son, Jeff was fortunate to have the same experience as I had years earlier. In his early teens Jeff worked on our neighbor's dairy farm. He, like me received the attention and care of that farm family; Junior an Alice Sayer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEicrEvoPWJttGjAvd5kQ0I4lRui2Xos7SGG_WgNj8U_28NsqIZen_zYS7cRZYXTwnda8WZGwR0b7h05Fv4oPOlDxwZa4peVyq6YwJJzW1kLZhTPQAJX4avOeCAcpp2GL2LiYxs2dVZHs/s1600/JEFF+-+MIDDLEBURY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEicrEvoPWJttGjAvd5kQ0I4lRui2Xos7SGG_WgNj8U_28NsqIZen_zYS7cRZYXTwnda8WZGwR0b7h05Fv4oPOlDxwZa4peVyq6YwJJzW1kLZhTPQAJX4avOeCAcpp2GL2LiYxs2dVZHs/s200/JEFF+-+MIDDLEBURY.jpg" width="117" /></a>Dave and Cindy had been like older siblings or young parents to me while Junior and Alice were like grandparents to Jeff. I will never forget the day Jeff tooled into our yard on his mini-bike and ran into the house. Evidently, he had been alone in the barn when a young heifer was struggling to give birth. He did exactly as his dad had done 20 years earlier and helped bring another calf safely into the world. Jeff felt the same thrill of accomplishment and joy that I had felt those many years earlier.<br />
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</a>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-84127755027816633382011-06-01T16:14:00.007-04:002015-07-19T22:17:06.278-04:00DIESEL SMOKE AND HOLSTEIN COWS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I look back at all the jobs or "careers" I have had since I was 16 years old I must say that the one I loved the very most was that as a farm hand. For several summers and while attending boarding school in Pennsylvania I worked on a dairy farm. During the summers I lived with Dave and Cindy Walter and their young son Pete and dog Chipper. I became a real part of the family. I had a small room in the attic of their farmhouse. I was up by Oh-Dark Thirty to help Dave with the morning milking and chores. By nine we were back in the house for an incredible breakfast which Cindy had waiting. I will never forget the fried scrapple, eggs toast and coffee all topped off with a Lucky Strike! Then it was back to work. This job was great not only for the close family it provided, (mine was out of the country), but it incorporated the things I love most: animals, machinery and the outdoors.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Must be About Milking Time!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Every day was different. There were hot days on the tractor plowing or disking fields in preparation for planting corn or alfalfa. Other days were rainy but we had to fix fence. We were so proud of the brand new Allis Chalmers D-17 Tractor we hollered every time we started her up " THAT'S DIESEL SMOKE".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Big Orange</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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She may have been new and very high tech for the time, however the old John Deer Tractors who joined her in the stable were all workhorses too. Once my friend Sam and I had a bit of competition and tried a tug of war between the D-17 and our John Deere 60. We hated to admit the JD won - I think mostly because of her massive weight and traction.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JOHN DEERE 60</td></tr>
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Later in the summer we would mow acres and acres of alfalfa to let it dry before chopping it with a forage harvester behind the D-17. The alfalfa would be chopped up and blown into wagons towed behind the chopper. This could be a real train and a handful on some steep hill-sides.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chopping Silage</td></tr>
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We shuttled the wagons back to the barn where they were unloaded into a blower that blew it up a pipe into a silo. For a while we had no automatic silo unloader - so come feeding time I would climb the rungs of the 80 foot silo and get on top of the silage and throw it down a chute with a pitch fork! The first time I went out to do this after lunch I had just climbed into the top of the silo and Dave came running out and scrambled up the silo to get me out. I was not aware that the fermenting alfalfa creates a toxic gas. He had realized where I was going and saved my butt!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those Beautiful Gentle Faces</td></tr>
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Much of the Alfalfa was mowed and then raked into windrows to be baled. Many evenings Cindy would drive the tractor pulling the hay wagon with Pete in her lap. No fancy big round bales, but very heavy square bales which we picked out of the field with hay hooks and stacked on flat hay wagons. Dave, Sam and I always competed to see who could stack the highest load. There was more than one time that a wood-chuck hole in a field would bring a load tumbling down.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch Out For Chuck Holes</td></tr>
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Most days we were working from around 5AM 'til 9PM at night. We worked every day but sometimes took Sunday afternoons off for a family get-together. Of course we had to get back for evening milking! Often we were working zombies! I recall "napping" on a tractor while disking or mowing on a hot and dusty afternoon.<br />
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Another thing about farming is you are always braking things. A mower hits a hidden fence post in a field or a power-take-off shaft gets bent while backing a wagon. So we spent a lot of time fixing things. I learned a bit about welding and the value of keeping moving equipment greased and adjusted. Dave could fix anything.<br />
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Cows are wonderful - huge but gentle. Each knows her own stanchion so when it is milking time she will come into the barn and go to her spot to be milked and fed. There is nothing quite as nice on a cold winter morning as snuggling your shoulder up against the warmth of the cow as you put the milkers on her udder. We loved and were proud these animals; most every one had a name. We groomed them and often washed their tails in buckets of warm soapy water. <br />
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As I said this was the greatest job I ever had. I will never forget these times, these animals, and most of all the family that took me in as one of their own.<br />
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<i>My farm job was prior to the invention of the camera - so these pictures are the best reproductions of my memory that I can find...</i><br />
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Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-8211846812761129432011-05-30T10:41:00.006-04:002011-05-30T20:01:34.958-04:00MEMORIAL DAY 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uesLW07hnDZV28sjxyIzpLdf0Bf5Hl5wciYrPnIsU1mw4a6MeCmJCQMrDEwkncqOKSria5wFoVtC566-z0Aqm4PoGmCbSymA02SPZjhtLE3LS1OPJQbpxGffqsn9i7JbvA3Oavwbntw/s1600/038.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uesLW07hnDZV28sjxyIzpLdf0Bf5Hl5wciYrPnIsU1mw4a6MeCmJCQMrDEwkncqOKSria5wFoVtC566-z0Aqm4PoGmCbSymA02SPZjhtLE3LS1OPJQbpxGffqsn9i7JbvA3Oavwbntw/s320/038.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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WE MUST NEVER FORGET THE SACRIFICES MADE FOR ALL OF US!<br />
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Tom T. Hall tells it how it is to lose a brother or son in war!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Go to this YouTube link:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUCWFfe2qRo<br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt_K8VCYCnchpu2Yhw1BGCThVFIvnCNpv0C5jYw-67wHYhqvgM0R5j1p77Kn_Ac89V9IX_N-f9YOwT0lCh1wocBYTsV1ThQKpQff3yJ2MATWfVxdhYSOYNmv-_nTalvTjrD1wyGMDH7I/s1600/arlington.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt_K8VCYCnchpu2Yhw1BGCThVFIvnCNpv0C5jYw-67wHYhqvgM0R5j1p77Kn_Ac89V9IX_N-f9YOwT0lCh1wocBYTsV1ThQKpQff3yJ2MATWfVxdhYSOYNmv-_nTalvTjrD1wyGMDH7I/s640/arlington.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38hA555RX3BVbjRMT_1W0akorQvgPY3TqTh2W9vvB9FHjempTf8uMz46tiV8lDq-stTqve70JTpFdvRfv-H8HydwAtR8k4X75UfVQoEl_lq2oP3kZ6EJEJxpaJFxpZWtQnCIhq7VS5ac/s1600/fortresses_under_fire_by_keith_ferris.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38hA555RX3BVbjRMT_1W0akorQvgPY3TqTh2W9vvB9FHjempTf8uMz46tiV8lDq-stTqve70JTpFdvRfv-H8HydwAtR8k4X75UfVQoEl_lq2oP3kZ6EJEJxpaJFxpZWtQnCIhq7VS5ac/s640/fortresses_under_fire_by_keith_ferris.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-1267354171336045022011-05-26T16:48:00.006-04:002011-05-28T19:54:27.292-04:00CH-46 Sea Knight<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx-GYRJ7bRhhdm_zFccvb54mTYtUPppvy1beCjv85MzxYOmiQyhZKTn4Hn0C8Us0mOIHKwDRf7fOAcZKmXy9XFc7JZyX7cfJ1qG7Xysoj6iZ_iJCCbfiL7JEHHHlncmzjCLd8cS2WGo/s1600/001.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNfkSTQNJag5HMtRjZ-8r0YHEcVLBAtUIdW_wL44cuXd5-RGj9XTOPJr-ct8pjdBVnTMZfk5nrqixuVTiwv7OTQC2XKe7oHbMjrIpgMFdmqzDg5aWcea1WcZ4HQGztdpgz5s9GGd4Xr0/s1600/hmmt+302-patch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNfkSTQNJag5HMtRjZ-8r0YHEcVLBAtUIdW_wL44cuXd5-RGj9XTOPJr-ct8pjdBVnTMZfk5nrqixuVTiwv7OTQC2XKe7oHbMjrIpgMFdmqzDg5aWcea1WcZ4HQGztdpgz5s9GGd4Xr0/s200/hmmt+302-patch.JPG" width="173" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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Upon earning my naval aviator wings in Pensacola I was transferred to HMMT-302 at MCAF Santa Ana, California to transition to the fleet aircraft I would be assigned to fly. I spent several months learning to fly the <i>CH-46 <b>Sea Knight</b></i> Medium Lift Helicopter in preparation for orders to Vietnam.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1sHnpPa7MSA9ARBvFTLvv1bMn45-Y51bsKNyn0V7ZgIlb4KzF2bezaxjV3PqKDVakVl0lLk_mYrpDMxPm4nGP2ijm5OJL_2HXgyKul55IxLA4kYal3DMI5n2xHKbN3tzf5-5afEilDo/s1600/ch-46.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1sHnpPa7MSA9ARBvFTLvv1bMn45-Y51bsKNyn0V7ZgIlb4KzF2bezaxjV3PqKDVakVl0lLk_mYrpDMxPm4nGP2ijm5OJL_2HXgyKul55IxLA4kYal3DMI5n2xHKbN3tzf5-5afEilDo/s400/ch-46.gif" width="400" /></a></div> The CH-46 was a new turbine powered tandem rotor helicopter built by Boeing-Vertol. The Marines used it as a primary troop transport and medevac bird in country. At the time it was underpowered and did not have the desired lift capability for the hot humid climate of Vietnam. We learned the tactics and art of mountain flying, landing with just our back wheels on the edge of a cliff while hovering the front of the bird over the drop-off below! We did high speed spiral approaches at 90 degrees angle of bank from 3,000 feet into small landing zones. This type of approach should keep you above ground fire and the rapid descent and spiral would make you a difficult target... if you did get hit you should "end up" near the LZ and friendly Marines.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3T4xmIIA0JXiayWAS0MlFfziS6pLhyphenhyphen6-4MbQihXh8LwsxIDUW6U5cJuCAouZsMZIwLSZV1Q_MlcsluPAQ71brS0zH9jbluV0-sh3uqsyFB9sdIdpQuF1HvpTyGcDpWfaIj2hLL0cnV4/s640/002.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 46 casts a shadow as it climbs out of an LZ</td></tr>
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</div>The "46" earned the name of the "<b><i>CH-46 Crowd Killer</i></b>" because it went through a period where it broke in half in flight! It was learned that massive loads used to stop the high speed descent and a week splice joint in the aircraft caused the problem. Modifications to the aircraft and to landing technique resolved that problem.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx-GYRJ7bRhhdm_zFccvb54mTYtUPppvy1beCjv85MzxYOmiQyhZKTn4Hn0C8Us0mOIHKwDRf7fOAcZKmXy9XFc7JZyX7cfJ1qG7Xysoj6iZ_iJCCbfiL7JEHHHlncmzjCLd8cS2WGo/s1600/001.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx-GYRJ7bRhhdm_zFccvb54mTYtUPppvy1beCjv85MzxYOmiQyhZKTn4Hn0C8Us0mOIHKwDRf7fOAcZKmXy9XFc7JZyX7cfJ1qG7Xysoj6iZ_iJCCbfiL7JEHHHlncmzjCLd8cS2WGo/s400/001.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
The "46" or as it was affectionately called "<b><i>Phrog</i></b>" (see the front view) became the workhorse of the Marine Corps from when it was first built in 1967-68 to today where it is just being replaced in Afghanistan. That is not bad for an aircraft that last came off the assembly line 44 years ago. It is amazing how upgrades and good maintenance can extend the life of an aircraft. <br />
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Finally, over the past couple of years the CH-46 is being replaced by the Tilt Wing "<b><i>Osprey"</i></b> which also has had a difficult beginning. As an old Phrog Driver I do not believe the Osprey will ever be able to replace the "46". I know there is no bird that will replace the Phrog in my heart!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hard working Phrog ready for preflight</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An emergency landing at Big Sur on a flight to San Fransisco</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryp2G6dE1PfbRw6IS5awl9hUeOVrMpPBCJ32UQKkpkd9-dVKK7PzhgVF1DRqLIGQx9lNOXJYWVTRNTbxKzCsPgmke5KjVtHajiBFfwsR9_-usLZBcOYCmXuUK-xY2xr3BUWZ1JJJujqA/s1600/BIG+SUR+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhryp2G6dE1PfbRw6IS5awl9hUeOVrMpPBCJ32UQKkpkd9-dVKK7PzhgVF1DRqLIGQx9lNOXJYWVTRNTbxKzCsPgmke5KjVtHajiBFfwsR9_-usLZBcOYCmXuUK-xY2xr3BUWZ1JJJujqA/s640/BIG+SUR+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx-GYRJ7bRhhdm_zFccvb54mTYtUPppvy1beCjv85MzxYOmiQyhZKTn4Hn0C8Us0mOIHKwDRf7fOAcZKmXy9XFc7JZyX7cfJ1qG7Xysoj6iZ_iJCCbfiL7JEHHHlncmzjCLd8cS2WGo/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As things turned out I never flew in Vietnam. However there were many other tales from the Phrog! Stay Tuned!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfqx-GYRJ7bRhhdm_zFccvb54mTYtUPppvy1beCjv85MzxYOmiQyhZKTn4Hn0C8Us0mOIHKwDRf7fOAcZKmXy9XFc7JZyX7cfJ1qG7Xysoj6iZ_iJCCbfiL7JEHHHlncmzjCLd8cS2WGo/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-82671525344391853172011-05-21T12:31:00.002-04:002011-05-21T13:03:51.928-04:00BUILD AN ARK<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7wnJTcgnQAneYRR25GNBU8ktYPKecKwFkCWKmxs9d7UvxvSsgMtOGEbNCAy7aswY5nPPB9HnWqEOBT0TVPEXBkKW8UAAddLyb4xOY3g68OVVBg56-juUj6Kn-WXR_Ix0KYv9iX-8P-E/s1600/TUN+TAVERN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7wnJTcgnQAneYRR25GNBU8ktYPKecKwFkCWKmxs9d7UvxvSsgMtOGEbNCAy7aswY5nPPB9HnWqEOBT0TVPEXBkKW8UAAddLyb4xOY3g68OVVBg56-juUj6Kn-WXR_Ix0KYv9iX-8P-E/s320/TUN+TAVERN.jpg" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terry Irwin at the helm of the old Tun Tavern</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Here in Vermont it has been snowing or raining for over forty days and forty nights. Lake Champlain has risen to its highest level in known history. Rivers are swollen. People are desperate for sunshine and a major dry out.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpazf1JFXUeKCyCQ2nCJpUYYxFwS3GjOqiPNZMRzsdiPP5C0VPRSaTe7CbPy_RtbC3QhNVD7MgJYIB1XV0zK9dCr773CTq7COUUxXhMYJwH18P8JbF0kFvBBLvQIQLcD_dFedjU9w-tY/s1600/tuntavern.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpazf1JFXUeKCyCQ2nCJpUYYxFwS3GjOqiPNZMRzsdiPP5C0VPRSaTe7CbPy_RtbC3QhNVD7MgJYIB1XV0zK9dCr773CTq7COUUxXhMYJwH18P8JbF0kFvBBLvQIQLcD_dFedjU9w-tY/s320/tuntavern.JPG" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Tun Tavern </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">We have not built an ark but are very excited by our new boat which is approaching completion in a shop in California. We are expecting delivery within weeks!</div><br />
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The new boat is a Montgomery-15 built by Bob Eeg. This will be a beautiful day sailor which will provide our need to be on the water. We have missed sailing; the peace, the changeability of the weather and water, the wildlife, since we sold our Pearson-27 about five years ago. Thanks to Bob's flexibility and beautiful work the boat will be built to many of our specifications. The small size belies the seaworthiness of this craft which has actually sailed from California to Hawaii. Because it will live on a trailer the horizons are wide open to us. We can sail it in our old sailing grounds, Lake Champlain, on smaller lakes in Vermont, or trailer it to the coast of Maine or maybe the Florida Keys in the winter! Captain Hale and First Mate Susan decided to keep the name of our previous boat as a tribute to the Corps. The US Marine Corps was formed in the Tun Tavern in Philadelphia in 1775.<br />
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These pictures show the new <b><i>TUN TAVERN </i></b>under construction beneath the hands of the craftsmen at Montgomery Boats. We can't wait to post pictures of her unloading and first launch!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5bg9IZcJVVR-H7AjE9hL3f3Y4nCeQShVAqcoWOxuOiXnjXXm3TNYyTSoTEl0AGEDOXAAPg9AKwNyGc5YHiw9d7ZL7vZ6eavygKAhtV-OZAD243eeHBhQY9zGyZfMj-VhrkNzNSTG5nw/s1600/23s_032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5bg9IZcJVVR-H7AjE9hL3f3Y4nCeQShVAqcoWOxuOiXnjXXm3TNYyTSoTEl0AGEDOXAAPg9AKwNyGc5YHiw9d7ZL7vZ6eavygKAhtV-OZAD243eeHBhQY9zGyZfMj-VhrkNzNSTG5nw/s200/23s_032.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIiVaEU4x8FOBHtvfGmM64rM6gmKhooVuz8bYiHavcSnp0jbP0lW2yyzyGIi3tJQIH_qgvx_ozzw3TUoOEJEkUCKI_YKxiinuXuR7I8dxmymaVRHjcSoz7DqQLlVr7R_3JYhUs3oYcPY/s1600/Glockcollection_133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIiVaEU4x8FOBHtvfGmM64rM6gmKhooVuz8bYiHavcSnp0jbP0lW2yyzyGIi3tJQIH_qgvx_ozzw3TUoOEJEkUCKI_YKxiinuXuR7I8dxmymaVRHjcSoz7DqQLlVr7R_3JYhUs3oYcPY/s400/Glockcollection_133.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f1YhrC7TigR-jQ2daPj1cWlLCQkSokJIrg6tV9vvFBNjYiLrsHc7jvD2m5nOO8RDpvKOxX3XkR8mDhKXp5OZXi1vsPb3TSF4NSVjI2z0NPSLHQc9mshBL9wPlTULbIhx6lT-kXvk6nU/s1600/Glockcollection_132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f1YhrC7TigR-jQ2daPj1cWlLCQkSokJIrg6tV9vvFBNjYiLrsHc7jvD2m5nOO8RDpvKOxX3XkR8mDhKXp5OZXi1vsPb3TSF4NSVjI2z0NPSLHQc9mshBL9wPlTULbIhx6lT-kXvk6nU/s640/Glockcollection_132.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfVTiD6ANFgwGM3ILBb7AKA9Fgg8-zuIZEwqSqzwNC4I3aexAWBf9UieiVQ-O2cK6XW5A_Bu-hj2H4_BsGHY5cN4tMiAJj22Plf-NvStcsMs-iG1oOQFPuOjD2YC0s1MKEMCc8m0VNYg/s1600/Glockcollection_135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfVTiD6ANFgwGM3ILBb7AKA9Fgg8-zuIZEwqSqzwNC4I3aexAWBf9UieiVQ-O2cK6XW5A_Bu-hj2H4_BsGHY5cN4tMiAJj22Plf-NvStcsMs-iG1oOQFPuOjD2YC0s1MKEMCc8m0VNYg/s640/Glockcollection_135.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyP8zgXr8L9Wd4rmwMJgNUdQY0lfegpQJmbGESDxEZfhlPTSRJfQL7GLXcJ7vmzfhyp2SuhbX9ueW_pIK-BHR4qkIF0EhtrlFynGGgo2soQ1Em9nJ27uljyUr9_IZ7TMtnSh0BZkOoy2g/s1600/boatNamePreviewImage-new.php.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyP8zgXr8L9Wd4rmwMJgNUdQY0lfegpQJmbGESDxEZfhlPTSRJfQL7GLXcJ7vmzfhyp2SuhbX9ueW_pIK-BHR4qkIF0EhtrlFynGGgo2soQ1Em9nJ27uljyUr9_IZ7TMtnSh0BZkOoy2g/s400/boatNamePreviewImage-new.php.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIiVaEU4x8FOBHtvfGmM64rM6gmKhooVuz8bYiHavcSnp0jbP0lW2yyzyGIi3tJQIH_qgvx_ozzw3TUoOEJEkUCKI_YKxiinuXuR7I8dxmymaVRHjcSoz7DqQLlVr7R_3JYhUs3oYcPY/s1600/Glockcollection_133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-60468783716605902052011-05-19T14:58:00.001-04:002011-05-19T15:03:14.972-04:00OLD TO NEW<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUJZ5eBswpz6wmCaBsNwrFjx2bnqwqzTieC3h5hayat-2ZBrtwJUW4dum9ompbf-PPBVtXajCOEx5dw_7_tXxSEiaqdVdETmfxr78zkalmtJeXuaOYyFt_PRt9jk-7UxX3Kb_qubLMok/s1600/WOLVERINE3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Finally we have found a cool device that can digitize old 35 millimeter slides! We are sure all you fanatical readers of <i><b><u>CHECKING MY SIX</u> </b></i> will be ecstatic to know that we will now be able to dig way back, deep into the past, and unearth pictures heretofore unavailable!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUJZ5eBswpz6wmCaBsNwrFjx2bnqwqzTieC3h5hayat-2ZBrtwJUW4dum9ompbf-PPBVtXajCOEx5dw_7_tXxSEiaqdVdETmfxr78zkalmtJeXuaOYyFt_PRt9jk-7UxX3Kb_qubLMok/s1600/WOLVERINE3.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUJZ5eBswpz6wmCaBsNwrFjx2bnqwqzTieC3h5hayat-2ZBrtwJUW4dum9ompbf-PPBVtXajCOEx5dw_7_tXxSEiaqdVdETmfxr78zkalmtJeXuaOYyFt_PRt9jk-7UxX3Kb_qubLMok/s640/WOLVERINE3.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wolverine Slide Digitizer</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGA4GjT-qtvhyphenhyphenO72GLWuKK6vDHKkShkfWTnvJ4D9hBuRt-Zp7UIlriqH5c1uMAhLI2mo9Boc2Imixk6JGMZ0y7Uz1ZEvc_Lmy2eCbnb_YpFQUkJUjjg7YNOyw912JA8aV1dNC_gXYTowM/s1600/HALE+HOND+GARDEN.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="473" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGA4GjT-qtvhyphenhyphenO72GLWuKK6vDHKkShkfWTnvJ4D9hBuRt-Zp7UIlriqH5c1uMAhLI2mo9Boc2Imixk6JGMZ0y7Uz1ZEvc_Lmy2eCbnb_YpFQUkJUjjg7YNOyw912JA8aV1dNC_gXYTowM/s640/HALE+HOND+GARDEN.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Author unearthed from deep past - Tegucigalpa Honduras</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGA4GjT-qtvhyphenhyphenO72GLWuKK6vDHKkShkfWTnvJ4D9hBuRt-Zp7UIlriqH5c1uMAhLI2mo9Boc2Imixk6JGMZ0y7Uz1ZEvc_Lmy2eCbnb_YpFQUkJUjjg7YNOyw912JA8aV1dNC_gXYTowM/s1600/HALE+HOND+GARDEN.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGA4GjT-qtvhyphenhyphenO72GLWuKK6vDHKkShkfWTnvJ4D9hBuRt-Zp7UIlriqH5c1uMAhLI2mo9Boc2Imixk6JGMZ0y7Uz1ZEvc_Lmy2eCbnb_YpFQUkJUjjg7YNOyw912JA8aV1dNC_gXYTowM/s1600/HALE+HOND+GARDEN.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-6317070655398017512011-05-13T20:13:00.003-04:002011-05-15T16:42:16.768-04:00KEEP YOUR COOL<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZBISiOhycYThQ_WogSkkvajUycShpoEcXnsAogpq-ky2QmeHfd08rdbb13t_luyB38jwtodtfJNpfRiO0qLPY_10CI0QghJMBcx05ylNuhVSNYiUAYwx6CDlIKPHftYRZ8r8Cz5tKFM/s1600/blue+angels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZBISiOhycYThQ_WogSkkvajUycShpoEcXnsAogpq-ky2QmeHfd08rdbb13t_luyB38jwtodtfJNpfRiO0qLPY_10CI0QghJMBcx05ylNuhVSNYiUAYwx6CDlIKPHftYRZ8r8Cz5tKFM/s400/blue+angels.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
One of the most important traits of being a pilot is being cool. I don't mean just the cool swagger of the baby-blue clad Blue Angels as they march out to their F-18s at the beginning of an air show. I am talking about keeping your cool during an emergency and being able to analyze and respond to the problem calmly and quickly. Then, most of all, you gotta be cool on the radio when you transmit on Guard - the emergency frequency everyone is monitoring!</div><br />
The coolest pilot I recall hearing was when I was flying a helo in Southern California. Our cockpit banter was interrupted by a Navy Pilot transmitting on Guard:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1fC92st0KWza2T9vABlGqax7Gvl8B44QhybXWH_Hnyu8AvQpA48TLiuENCn-cTuKoCVedR7IDoxdo24Cw1O2kH-Hk1bJqCO-XvCA7xtCrSb2eLz8hI0KAk1VEkpBJp_UyrDciC6N2lKM/s1600/skyhawk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1fC92st0KWza2T9vABlGqax7Gvl8B44QhybXWH_Hnyu8AvQpA48TLiuENCn-cTuKoCVedR7IDoxdo24Cw1O2kH-Hk1bJqCO-XvCA7xtCrSb2eLz8hI0KAk1VEkpBJp_UyrDciC6N2lKM/s640/skyhawk.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Single Seat A-4 Skyhawk </div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"Mayday, Mayday Mayday, This is is Navy Skyhawk 123. I have a flame-out at 25,000 feet, 75 miles West of Point Mugu. Over,"</i></div><br />
A couple of minutes later we heard<br />
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<i>"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, Navy Jet 123 unable to get a restart. Passing through 15,000. Ejecting Now!"</i><br />
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That is all we heard from this cool dude. He was later picked up from the Pacific Ocean by a rescue Helo from N.A.S. Point Mugu.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx </div><br />
Tone and calmness is not all that is important. You have to know the language of the aviator. When an air controller in Approach Control points out traffic he sees on his radar above and ahead of you he might say: <i>"Nighthawk-6, traffic 12 o'clock high, fast mover."</i><br />
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We would then scan the sky for a high speed aircraft above and in front of us. If we see him the response is <i>Tally Ho.</i> If we do not see it we would respond: <i>Approach, Nighthawk-6, No Joy.</i><br />
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If he wants you to activate the signal on your transponder that will highlight your aircraft on his cluttered radar screen he or she will say <i>Squawk Ident </i>As you depress the switch you let him know that you have done so by responding: <i>Splash</i>. Of course no pilot would call a transponder a transponder. It is a Parrot. If your transponder is working OK . <i>Your Parrot is sweet.</i><br />
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If you understand something you respond with "<i>ROGER</i>".<br />
If you will do as you were told to do the response is "<i>WILCO</i>".<br />
When you are done with what you are saying in a 2-way conversation you say "<i>OVER</i>".<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now that I have said way too much and don't expect any more responses I will say: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "<i>Polecat-13, Good Evening.</i></span><br />
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</div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-74589338311819637132011-05-09T17:42:00.006-04:002011-05-29T12:20:23.004-04:00TAKING THE FIGHT TO CANCER<u><i><b>PROUTY CENTURY RIDE<br />
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" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Cs_T8I5V0r5fy9Q2gLBQsR8-qyMzzCfPqQkCGSNG4PAA6Nwy2OmxgB1k90LS-yTFAgEubxe_S-sQn-D9Ywy-MScZHS7W-ZADCIJiTbLyVoZHoLbdx0aPIKI1Bz9nffGLmCVCKepfQsc/s1600/Hale.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Cs_T8I5V0r5fy9Q2gLBQsR8-qyMzzCfPqQkCGSNG4PAA6Nwy2OmxgB1k90LS-yTFAgEubxe_S-sQn-D9Ywy-MScZHS7W-ZADCIJiTbLyVoZHoLbdx0aPIKI1Bz9nffGLmCVCKepfQsc/s320/Hale.JPG" width="252" /></a>On Saturday, July 9, I am going to bike 100 miles in the 30th Annual Prouty Century Bike Ride to raise money for cancer research at Dartmouth-Hitchcock's Norris Cotton Cancer Center. One hundred miles is quite a distance and The Prouty route through the Connecticut River Valley and White Mountains is challenging. It has some serious climbs and usually lots of head-winds. However, when I think of my Mom, friends, and family who have battled and are presently fighting cancer, I realize that my bike ride is nowhere near as tough as what they experience. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To participate in The Prouty, I will donate $100 toward cancer research. But it's my personal goal to raise at least $5,000. You can help by sponsoring me; just click on the website listed below. All donations are tax deductible and should be turned in by July 6. If you prefer to send a check, you can make it payable to Friends of Norris Cotton Cancer Center and mail it to Friends of NCCC, The Prouty Office, Attn. Catherine Rentz, One Medical Center Drive, Lebanon, NH 03756. Make sure that you indicate that it's for my ride by placing my name in the memo area of the check.</div><br />
I have ridden this ride about 22 or 23 times out of the 29 it has been held. With your help I have raised somewhere around $75,000 over the years. I ride in memory of my Mom who died 25 years ago tomorrow and in support of so many of my relatives who have fought and are still fighting cancer.<br />
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I need your support so we can kill this disease once and for all.<br />
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Let's dig deep and fight this disease until it is eliminated!<br />
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COPY THE FOLLOWING URL INTO YOUR BROWSER TO ENTER MY WEBSITE AND TO DONATE ON LINE: <br />
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>http://theprouty.kintera.org/faf/r.asp?t=4&i=452245&u=452245-176767190&e=4528293066</b></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><br />
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Thanks!<br />
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</a></div>HaleHalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-11541578693161438372011-05-08T17:16:00.003-04:002011-05-23T17:17:06.111-04:00JOSEPHINE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5j5ytc17aceAa5haEA8bE7hQu_6lVDQ4usz3xHtzkX8IuIqSqOJC186BLMyzOY7dqKctTJFpW6zquwl5a41fsKtXVaS540yYVsgaojPf8MTGgW9U4xjkMxMHLCD_meD54ZX0GmAHtiY/s1600/MOM%252C+M%252C+H.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</a></div><u><b>Today is Mothers Day</b></u>. Twenty- five years ago today was the last time I saw my Mom and said good-bye to her. She died of Cancer two days later at the age of 65! Mom was probably the most loved and respected person I have ever known. Near the end she was living in Middlebury and came to the Norris Cotton Cancer Center in Hanover to have radiation and chemo therapy treatments. She would take the bus to White River where I would meet her and take her to our house or to her brothers house in Hanover. One day the bus driver who had gotten to know Jo on various trips came over to me and told me, "your Mom is the finest person I have ever known". He had seen her interact with numerous passengers over the months. She never complained about her illness but became concerned and a good friend to all she met. I learned later that she had met a young woman on the bus and learned that she was having major financial difficulties. Several weeks later Mom sent her a check to help her out!<br />
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When we were all a lot younger and I was in Junior High in Washington, Mom taught high School English at Woodrow Wilson High School. I remember her getting calls late into the evenings from her inspired students about their assignments and from distraught kids looking for advice or a sympathetic ear from someone who truly cared.<br />
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I can not tell all the stories by which I remember my mother but I must say I truly miss her. She died to soon. <br />
The world was a much better place thanks to her. <i>Mom, Happy Mothers Day!</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hale, Mom, Terry 1950? </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5j5ytc17aceAa5haEA8bE7hQu_6lVDQ4usz3xHtzkX8IuIqSqOJC186BLMyzOY7dqKctTJFpW6zquwl5a41fsKtXVaS540yYVsgaojPf8MTGgW9U4xjkMxMHLCD_meD54ZX0GmAHtiY/s1600/MOM%252C+M%252C+H.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF5j5ytc17aceAa5haEA8bE7hQu_6lVDQ4usz3xHtzkX8IuIqSqOJC186BLMyzOY7dqKctTJFpW6zquwl5a41fsKtXVaS540yYVsgaojPf8MTGgW9U4xjkMxMHLCD_meD54ZX0GmAHtiY/s320/MOM%252C+M%252C+H.JPG" width="284" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, Maude, Hale 1955?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62-OwOXyY8bSx_8yg2zZ6fiePRggldlMGoCoiADWI5hPgMDCFTKd5os-le0Ga8muEJMEAo0bAI3LrvXJo3L9-UC1cAqPvS4rkwII7ALA1vycySCIge1lPGw9ZM-r9YdEh8R_FbnG_P2M/s1600/MOM%252C+T%252C+H%252C+PARK+FAIRFAX.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">,</a> <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My son Jeff with his Grandma Jo at Christmas sometime in the early 80s</span></div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-10644467075970728882011-05-06T20:35:00.001-04:002011-05-06T20:37:38.060-04:00HARRY REASONER QUOTE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKr6AJ7M9Lm_Bsu9BTqhNhvYbqHb-LSvjdHqqtFqMPsnTKE1ZERbvFbJPLevIntADupBSssDyXfsFbUgDVxggNZyWD-957fmNyM-Q9gdo7tzD8WKeA9kL8V0zJU0fZyZaHF-tk58sC7Ug/s1600/Reasoner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="617" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKr6AJ7M9Lm_Bsu9BTqhNhvYbqHb-LSvjdHqqtFqMPsnTKE1ZERbvFbJPLevIntADupBSssDyXfsFbUgDVxggNZyWD-957fmNyM-Q9gdo7tzD8WKeA9kL8V0zJU0fZyZaHF-tk58sC7Ug/s640/Reasoner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
"The thing is, helicopters are different from planes. An airplane by its very nature wants to fly and, if not interfered with too strongly by unusual events or by a deliberately incompetent pilot, it will fly. A helicopter does not want to fly. It is maintained in the air by a variety of forces and controls working in opposition to each other and, if there is any disturbance in this delicate balance, the helicopter stops flying; immediately and disastrously. There is no such thing as a gliding helicopter."<br />
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"This is why being a helicopter pilot is so different from being an airplane pilot, and why in generality, airplane pilots are open, clear-eyed, buoyant extroverts, and helicopter pilots are brooding introspective anticipators of trouble. They know if something bad has not happened it is about to."<br />
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Harry Reasoner<br />
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February 16, 1971Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-9937448735491394482011-05-06T20:09:00.003-04:002011-05-07T08:28:53.169-04:00HT-8 AND FINALLY THOSE WINGS OF GOLD!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCOMzq04sxvUp9ZNicskz21l6REj8YWtU6NWHxHvkjRq3ioa0v8muF7kC545l4XXaq42_PYiaGQjkrjfI5ecVwdQVwx2rZLA-v0lfCuZHAQgrSQf6m23EDl45kCLxYyAnIx_dU7eecoQ/s1600/HT-8+PATCH.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCOMzq04sxvUp9ZNicskz21l6REj8YWtU6NWHxHvkjRq3ioa0v8muF7kC545l4XXaq42_PYiaGQjkrjfI5ecVwdQVwx2rZLA-v0lfCuZHAQgrSQf6m23EDl45kCLxYyAnIx_dU7eecoQ/s1600/HT-8+PATCH.JPG" /></a></div>HT-8 was the last squadron through which future Marine and Navy Helicopter pilots passed before earning their Wings of Gold. It was here that I first climbed into a helicopter and found out what real flying was! By this time I had around 150 hours of flight time, had been through Basic Instruments, Radio Navigation, Aerobatics,Formation Flying and I was Carrier Qualified... <b>SHIT HOT</b>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvlMKjZyvXYZbYH5_avXruJohaT6UtRRRdabZygdwsQaJhVAWsIVc-gYgCtLv6icrOSqlhnMVBky6KxmOkFfxspXzXKlfC4A13f_ajz8iuVv-1XC3I52jKtG9bRUGIZ6MYbTNev-98m0/s1600/HT-8+th-57.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvlMKjZyvXYZbYH5_avXruJohaT6UtRRRdabZygdwsQaJhVAWsIVc-gYgCtLv6icrOSqlhnMVBky6KxmOkFfxspXzXKlfC4A13f_ajz8iuVv-1XC3I52jKtG9bRUGIZ6MYbTNev-98m0/s320/HT-8+th-57.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jet Ranger</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It was now like starting at the beginning all over again. Learning to HOVER was a whole new thing. My instructor flew me out to a huge field in a shiny new Jet Ranger. After he had the bird in a rock solid hover he progressively gave me one set of controls at a time: The Rudder Pedals, The Cyclic (stick) and finally the Collective which adjusts power and make the helo go up and-down. It was all I could do to keep the aircraft in the humongous field and not spin it around and bounce it off the ground.<br />
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Helicopter pilots learn to hover as a second sense, taking cues from scanning the horizon. At first this scan is very deliberate and takes extreme concentration.. It eventually becomes second nature. Years later as a maintenance test pilot I could have my head bent down inches away from an instrument -to read it carefully- and the bird would stay steady as a rock. If you can rub your tummy, pat your head and do fancy foot work all at the same time you would be a good helo driver!<br />
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</div>It was at HT-8 where I learned my biggest problem in learning to fly. An older Navy Lt. Commander told me that I had about the best natural ability to fly that he had seen. He said I tried way to hard and that my self imposed stress was my biggest detriment. Jokingly, he prescribed 2 shots of scotch before each flight! I never tried his antidote. I believe the words of LtCdr. Villar gave me the confidence that carried me on in my aviation and other careers.<br />
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HT-8 passed quickly. The big event was hiding out in the strongest building at Ellison Field - the Officers Club during the disastrous Hurricane Camile. Soon it was down to the last week and a long cross-country flight in a Huey (UH-1D) from Pensacola to N.A.S. Glenview outside of Chicago. <br />
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Finally, at a small ceremony with no family present, I was presented the Wings of a Naval Aviator by the Squadron Commander. I was very proud to have made it. This year was the most challenging year of my life. I had made it! I was now a Marine First Lieutenant and a Naval Aviator. I had joined some pretty good company.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">So this was the end ..... but actually it was just the beginning!</div>Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1290600101568588874.post-38562523294517534292011-05-05T17:13:00.005-04:002014-04-27T15:55:19.729-04:00HITTING THE BOAT<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYOFHlohQUnVX_NGyHjFpLYsRuovhwx9CUSLzfNwztF8sk4kL9yPQAT5UdusPBkXjXfckpOTKDUVYvgawLtl4YhW8Z66IusFB1T7UQvtUGcNoIgP_T8pLMsKeZPPtvi6gUJ30v6ig5sQ/s1600/4+plane+formation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYOFHlohQUnVX_NGyHjFpLYsRuovhwx9CUSLzfNwztF8sk4kL9yPQAT5UdusPBkXjXfckpOTKDUVYvgawLtl4YhW8Z66IusFB1T7UQvtUGcNoIgP_T8pLMsKeZPPtvi6gUJ30v6ig5sQ/s1600/4+plane+formation.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was fortunate to be in one of the last classes to be trained in Formation Flying and later to become Carrier Qualified in the T-28. Formation flying was very exciting as we</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> finally </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> learned to fly in four-plane formations, alone in the aircraft, with an instructor "chasing" the flight safely in his own aircraft. The student pilot learns to follow the plane he is formed-up on by keeping the "gauge". The gauge might be lining up the tie down ring on your leader's wing with a certain place on his fuselage. By holding that line up your aircraft maintains the same relationship with the lead bird - no matter where he goes: simple -yeah right! A vivid recollection is the feeling of another T-28 under-running your bird when he becomes acute on a running rendezvous. Instead of running into you he dips his wing and slides or shoots under you to form up on the other side. What is memorable is the jolt your bird gets from the burble of air kicked up by his propeller as he cuts under you with his prop inches from your belly!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">USS LEXINGTON </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_YJbWZ-Z0kKTVg6l2AnASR2UixRUg3mx9j6sLAXrR7HK62AfClizu6ebeDWJ1fRs91eYMdsYLjDSSI7ayzGWWVGaD8evzUzEQAGpu9C_fsTz9nHM_dUSJCPKrRHlqBFhKX59sp9sl6tQ/s1600/vt-5+patch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_YJbWZ-Z0kKTVg6l2AnASR2UixRUg3mx9j6sLAXrR7HK62AfClizu6ebeDWJ1fRs91eYMdsYLjDSSI7ayzGWWVGaD8evzUzEQAGpu9C_fsTz9nHM_dUSJCPKrRHlqBFhKX59sp9sl6tQ/s1600/vt-5+patch.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Training Squadron Five (VT-5) is where we learned to land on an aircraft carrier. As I recall, we had 12 solo flights practicing Field Carrier Landings (FCLPs) at Barin</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">d field in Foley, Alabama. Here we learned to keep the ball in the middle on the Fresnel Lens (mirror) Landing System. This was the best - flying a 200 foot pattern (that is low!) with the canopy open, Speed Brake Down, Cowl Flaps open and the engine at a a high and responsive RPM while flying barely five knots above the stall speed. Our Landing Signals Officer (LSO) stood beside the touch down spot - looking at our approaches; telling us if we were hot, low, high or slow. We then made minute power corrections adjusted our speed and attitude to hopefully catch the Number 3 Wire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">POLECAT FLIGHT</span></div>
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INSTRUCTOR MAKING LOW PASS TO CHECK WEATHER </div>
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It was finally time for Polecat Flight to hit the boat! Solo, our flight took off from Saufley Field with our instructor chasing. On a very hot and hazy day we headed out over the Gulf of Mexico at 2000 feet in search of the USS Lexington. We found her, and "holy shit" did she look small - like a postage-stamp. Our flight was directed to Marshall, an area to hold until we were given our Signal Charlie to descend to 200 feet and enter the break over the ship and enter the landing pattern. Before I new it I was entering the down wind leg dropping the gear, opening the canopy, locking my harness and pushing the mixture to rich. As I turned off the 180 i began pulling off power, I focused on the mirror and listened to my LSO. I called the Ball: <i>"Polecat 13 Meatball"</i>. As I rolled out on final I managed to keep the orange ball reasonably centered in the mirror and executed a touch and go. As the wheels touched the deck I pushed the throttle to the fire wall and added 52 inches of manifold pressure to slowly climb back into the pattern to execute 6 full stop landings! The procedure was the same except now I lowered the tail-hook. I shot a decent approach; caught the number 2 or 3 wire and was jerked to a complete and very sudden stop. <br />
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I quickly raised the hook and followed the taxi directors to the launch position. No catapult for this beast! The T-28C is so powerful and the engine is so responsive, unlike a jet, it launches from the carrier under its own power. Lock the brakes, run up full power, salute the shooter or launch officer and I was off off crawling down the deck. The bird left the deck and maintained level flight for a bit before gaining enough speed to begin to climb out. If you look at your airspeed indicator as you go off the deck it will show the aircraft is going about 10 knots below the speed need for it to fly - time lag in the air speed indicator. So faith and a gentle touch nurses the plane into flight. After one bolter, where the hook skipped over the arresting cables, I finally qualified with my six arrested landings. Probably the most exciting day of my life.</div>
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Today I have the utmost respect for the Navy and Marine aviators, now both men and women, who fly F-18 Hornets, EA-6B Prowlers, and the S-3 Vikings off pitching carrier decks at night. I believe there can be nothing more challenging and frightening as that!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "POLECAT ONE-THREE, MEATBALL"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Wish we could all get together again today!</span><br />
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Halehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10262781238303662341noreply@blogger.com0