US Navy History Buffs

[reformeddaytrader]

Old (USS Constitution, Old Ironsides) & New USS Clark at the Boston Navy Yard

In 1794, Congress ordered the building of six naval frigates, and the enlistment of seaman and marines to man them, since the nation was bitterly divided over this bill, only 3 were built:
(1) USS United States, (2) USS Constitution, and (3) USS Constellation were launched in 1797.

Her first victory was in August 19, 1812 when she met the Guerriere 750 miles east of Boston and a British warship had been outsailed, outfought, and conguered. Her next victory was against the swifter Java off Brazil were Marine sharpshooters slaughtered most of the Java crew with their accurate and deadly musket fire.

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[reformeddaytrader]

General Al Gray USMC who had a reputation for not being politically correct.

Old Corps

My kind of officer...


The Commandant of the Marine Corps was General Al Gray, a crusty old "Field Marine." He loved his Marines and often slipped into the mess hall wearing a faded old field jacket without any rank insignia on it. He would go through the chow line just like a private. (In this way, he was assured of being given the same rations that the lowest enlisted man received. And, woe be it to the mess officer if the food was found to be "unfit in quality or quantity.")

Upon becoming commandant, General Gray was expected to do a great deal of "formal entertaining," fancy dinner parties in full dress blue uniform. Now, the general would rather have been in the field eating cold "MREs " around a fighting hole with a bunch of young "hard charging" Marines. But, the General knew his duty, and as a Marine, he was determined to do it to the best of his ability.

During these formal parties a detachment of highly polished Marines from "Eighth and Eye" (Marine Barracks located at 8th and I Streets in Washington, D.C.) were detailed to assume the position of "parade rest" at various intervals around the ballroom where the festivities were being held.

At some point during one of these affairs, a very refined, big chested, blue haired lady picked up a tray of pastry and went around the room offering confections to the guests. When she noticed these Marines in dress blues, standing like sculptures all around the room, she was moved with admiration. She knew that several of these men were fresh from our victory in Desert Storm.

She made a "beeline" for the closest lance corporal. As she drew near him she asked, "Would you like pastry young man?"

The young Marine snapped to "attention" and replied, "I don't eat that s***, Ma'am." Just as quickly, he resumed the position of "parade rest."

His gaze remained fixed on some distant point throughout the exchange.

The fancy lady was taken back! She blinked, her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open. So startled was she that she immediately began to doubt what she had heard. In a quivering voice she asked, "W-W-What did you say?"

The Marine snapped back to the position "attention" (like the arm of a mouse trap smacking it's wooden base). Then he said, "I don't eat that s*** Ma'am." And, just as smartly as before, back to the position of "parade rest" he went.

This time, there was no doubt. The fancy lady immediately became incensed, and felt insulted. After all, here she was an important lady, taking the time to offer something nice to this enlisted man, (well below her station in life). And he had the nerve to say THAT to HER!

She exclaimed, "Well! I never...!"

The fancy lady remembered that she had met "that military man who was over all these 'soldiers' a little earlier. She spotted General Gray from across the room. He had a cigar clenched between his teeth and a camouflaged canteen cup full of liquor in his left hand. He was talking to a group of 1st and 2nd lieutenants.

The blue haired lady went straight over to the commandant and interrupted, "General, I offered some pastry to that young man over there. And, do you know what he told me?"

General Gray cocked his eyebrow, took the cigar out of his mouth and said, "Well, no Ma'am. I don't."

The lady took in a deep breath, confident that she was expressing with her body language her rage and indignation. As she wagged her head in cadence with her words, and she paused between each word for effect, "He - said, I - don't - eat - that - s*** - Ma'am!"

The lieutenants standing there were in a state of flux. A couple of them choked back chuckles, and turned their heads to avoid having their smirks detected. The next thought most of them had was, "God, I hope it wasn't one of MY Marines!", and the color left their faces. General Gray wrinkled his brow, cut his eyes in the direction of the lieutenants, put his free hand to his chin and expelled a subdued, "Hummm."

"Which one did you say it was Ma'am?", the General asked. "That tall sturdy one right over there near the window, General," the woman said with smug satisfaction. One of the lieutenants began to look sick and put a hand on the wall for support.

General Gray, seemed deep in thought, hand still to his chin, wrinkled brow. Suddenly, he looked up his _expression changed to one indicating he had made a decision. He looked the fancy lady right in the eyes and said,

"Well, f*** 'im! Don't give him any."

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[sanityjones]

Let me guess......................you were that old blue haired lady?












Good post RDT LOL

[reformeddaytrader]

No I was the guy who told her I don't care for that s***.... I am not into caviar or raw fish....


Al Gray was my boss BTW


BTW Sanity pls show some respect for your superiors here since I now have two stars and you have only one.....

You rank =Newbie....and yours truly = Junior Member...


OHHHHHHHH I got smutted again for pulling rank I guess??

[sanityjones]

Eight more posts (seven after this) and I too will be awarded my second bronze star. I'm going all the way to ham and eggs............better make a hole........

[Deleted]

great story....

my father was a corpsman in the navy (taught field med school at pendleton for a lot of years) as the chief enlisted nco

he used to bring young marines to our home during the holidays....

this time of the year i always seem to remember those great times

Semper Fi!

[reformeddaytrader]

Thank You Sir.... btw the story about Gen Al Gray is true and he also had an episode with Congresswoman Pat Schroeder who ran for President ....she complained to him that several of us dumb Jar heads didn't know who she was which pissed her off to no end.... So he just smiled at her after she told him we had no idea that she was a congresswoman running for President, and the Old Salty General smiled and said "OK and by the way what is your name Ma'am??"

[fiscan]

ha a ha hah ah ah ha hah a hah a ha ha ha hah a

[floridayankee]

Dec 22, 2010 14:21:50 GMT -5 @reformeddaytrader said:

BTW Sanity pls show some respect for your superiors here since I now have two stars and you have only one.....

That just means you post WAY too much.

BTW....what is the name of that cruiser in the OP?

[reformeddaytrader]

USS Clark but she was decommissioned in 2000...that picture of her and Old Ironsides was taken a year earlier.

USS CLARK was the fifth ship in the OLIVER HAZARD PERRY class and the third PERRY class guided missile frigate built by Bath Iron Works.
In the mid-1990th, USS CLARK became part of the Naval Reserve Force and was finally decommissioned on March 15, 2000. The same day, USS CLARK transferred to the Polish navy where she became the second-largest ship in the fleet. She was renamed PULASKI.
USS CLARK was homeported in Norfolk, Va..





www.navysite.de/ffg/FFG11.HTM

[floridayankee]

Dec 22, 2010 15:47:51 GMT -5 @reformeddaytrader said:

USS Clark but she was decommissioned in 2000...that picture of her and Old Ironsides was taken a year earlier.


www.navysite.de/ffg/FFG11.HTM

Well, heck...no wonder I couldn't figure out the name....she's a frigate, not a cruiser. The only cuisers with hull number of 11 are USS Trenton (CL-11) and the USS Chicago (CG-11)....both a wee bit too old to be the hull pictured in the OP.

I like that site. I found last ship the old man served on....DD-937 - USS Davis.

[reformeddaytrader]

You can enlarge the photo and in the background are the USMC Barracks & office buildings...but the Navy Yard was closed in 2000 I think??

I was able to go on a private tour in 2003 but the old Navy Yard is in disrepair and falling apart.....no money to restore it as a historical site I guess...the Boston Mayor is too cheap

[sanityjones]

Although I did not necessarily appreciate it at the time, I had the privilege of serving upon the 'Might Mo', BB63 before it was finally decommissioned. What a great ship with a tremendous history.

[reformeddaytrader]

Yea but I served on the USS Constitution but not during the War of 1812 in case you are wondering..


Hey Sanity congrats you just made Junior Member.. So we are the same rank...but I have more time in rate than you so don't you forget it..

[❤ mollymouser ❤]

Cool picture, thanks for posting it.

[reformeddaytrader]

Thanx Ma'am & best wishes for your deployed husband....

[❤ mollymouser ❤]

Thank you, sir. This is his seventh deployment to Iraq. (sigh)

[floridayankee]

Newport, RI is the home to both the Forrestal (CVA-59) and Saratoga (CVA-60) air craft carriers. I was working at NUWC at the time they both arrived (aug and sept 1998) and our computer lab was up on a hill overlooking the docks. They had to remove the masts from the conning tower to get them under the Newport Bridge. We have also boated right up next to these ships and it's amazing just how huge these things are when you're looking at them from the waterline from a 30 foot boat.
www.navsource.org/archives/02/025960.jpg

[reformeddaytrader]

Seventh Deployment.....I think that is something that most folks cannot appreciate. I know full well how families of our military have to sacrifice so much..... Missing Holidays, Birthdays, Graduations, and other family events is the price to pay for our National Security. But some days I wonder if it is all worth it especially from what Lotte I know about Iraq and Afghanistan...which isn't much these days..

But glad you liked the photos of our two ships that span our naval history it was taken in 1999 on a return visit to reminisce a little.

[reformeddaytrader]

Hey FY FYI Ole Ironsides is still a commissioned ship of the Navy and open to the public from @0800 hrs to @2000 hrs and then was guarded by a Marine Formal Guard mount similar to the Army Guards at the tomb of the unknown soldier at Arlington Cemetery.....Unfortunately I was posted to walk guard duty from 1200hrs to 0400 hrs in the winter. And in Boston that was a bad place to be with temps hovering below zero and the winds gusting off the ocean.. Heck of a way to earn a living..

I volunteered for duty aboard the USS Forestal when the Navy wanted Marines for a one year cruise...but instead was selected for a Navy DF School in Charleston SC for six months

[floridayankee]

See...I knew that
The commissioned ship stuff, not your guard duty.....I believe the Eagle and the Constitution make up the only two commissioned active duty sailing vessels still in US military service.

We had a few Tall Ships visit Tampa this past summer. I didn't get to the city to see them though. We had USCG Eagle, the Capitan Miranda from Uruguay and the Gloria from Colombia.

Beautiful vessels these tall ships are.

[floridayankee]

I volunteered for duty aboard the USS Forestall when the Navy wanted Marines for a one year cruise

Was that before or after the F-4 rocket mishap?

[reformeddaytrader]

Was that before or after the F-4 rocket mishap?


Yes it was a few years before and a one year shakedown cruise in the Mediterranean & Carribean waters from what I recall...prior to service off Nam

[traelin0]

Hey RDT, I figured this is on-topic...did you know John Paul Jones was buried in an unmarked grave in Paris, and when they were exhuming the site, they basically discovered him by accident? They moved his remains to Annapolis post haste. I may not be remembering exactly how it all went down, but I DO know that he loved Paris and died there.

[kent]

Dec 22, 2010 15:47:51 GMT -5 @reformeddaytrader said:

www.navysite.de/ffg/FFG11.HTM

Neat site RDT. I found my first ship but not the second one. Maybe it's because we went up in flames in the Bermuda Triangle in late 1963 - quite an experience to say the least.

[Wisconsin Beth]

Wonderful picture. Thanks for sharing!

[floridayankee]

Dec 23, 2010 14:17:21 GMT -5 kent said:

Neat site RDT. I found my first ship but not the second one. Maybe it's because we went up in flames in the Bermuda Triangle in late 1963 - quite an experience to say the least.

If it was a commissioned ship, you'd think it would be listed.
Try this one.....My old man is even listed on one of the ships he served on though they have him in the wrong state.
www.hullnumber.com/

[reformeddaytrader]

I didn't want the US Army History buffs to feel left out on this thread so here is probably one of the best Vietnam Historians Joe Galloway:
Honor Among Soldiers By Joe Galloway
If you have fed from a steady diet of Hollywood movies about Vietnam you probably believe that everyone who wore a uniform in America's long, sad involvement in war in Vietnam is some sort of a clone of Lt. William Calley---that all three million of them were drug-crazed killers and rapists who rampaged across the pastoral landscape. Those movies got it wrong, until now. There is one more Hollywood film now playing called "We Were Soldiers" and it gets it right. Ask any Vietnam veteran who has gone to see the movie. In fact, ask any American who has gone to see it.

It is based on a book I wrote with my lifelong friend Lt. Gen. (ret) Hal Moore; a book written precisely because we believed that a false impression of those soldiers had taken root in the country which sent them to war and, in the end, turned its back on both the war and the warriors. I did four tours in Vietnam as a war correspondent for United Press International---1965-66, 1971, 1973 and 1975. In the first three of those tours at war I spent most of my time in the field with the troops and I came to know and respect them and even love them, though most folks might find the words "war" and "love" in the same sentence unsettling if not odd. In fact, I am far more comfortable in the company of those once-young soldiers today than with any other group except my own family. They are my comrades-in-arms, the best friends of my life and if ever I were to shout "help!" they would stampede to my aid in a heartbeat. They come from all walks of life; they are black, white, Hispanic, native American, Asian; they are fiercely loyal, dead honest, entirely generous of their time and money. They are my brothers and they did none of the things Oliver Stone or Francis Ford Coppola would have you believe all of them did.

On the worst day of my life, in the middle of the worst battle of the Vietnam War, in a place called Landing Zone X-Ray in the Ia Drang Valley of Vietnam, I was walking around snapping some photographs when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a tall, lanky GI who jumped out of a mortar pit and ran, zig-zagging under fire, toward me. He dove under the little bush I was crouched behind. "Joe! Joe Galloway! Don't you know me, man? "It's Vince Cantu from Refugio, Texas!" Vince Cantu and I had graduated together from Refugio High School, Class of 59, 55 boys and girls. We embraced warmly. Then he shouted over the din of gunfire: "Joe, you got to get down and stay down. It's dangerous out here. Men are dying all around." Vince told me that he had only ten days left on his tour of duty as a draftee soldier in the 1st Battalion 7th U.S. Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division (Airmobile). "If I live through this I will be home in Refugio for Christmas." I asked Vince to please visit my mom and dad, but not tell them too much about where we had met and under what circumstances. I still have an old photograph from that Christmas visit---Vince wearing one of those black satin Vietnam jackets, with his daughter on his knee, sitting with my mom and dad in their living room. Vince Cantu and I are still best friends.

When I walked out and got on a Huey helicopter leaving Landing Zone X-Ray I left knowing that 80 young Americans had laid down their lives so that I and others might survive. Another 124 had been terribly wounded and were on their way to hospitals in Japan or the United States. I left with both a sense of my place, among them, and an obligation to tell their stories to any who would listen. I knew that I had been among men of honor and decency and courage, and anyone who believes otherwise needs to look in his own heart and weigh himself.

Hal Moore and I began our research for the book-to-be, We Were Soldiers Once and Young, in 1982. It was a ten-year journey to find and ultimately to bring back together as many of those who fought in LZ Xray and LZ Albany, a separate battle one day after ours only three miles away in which another 155 young Americans died and another 130 were wounded. We had good addresses for perhaps no more than a dozen veterans, but we mailed out a questionnaire to them to begin the process. Late one night a week later my phone rang at home in Los Angeles. On the other end was Sgt. George Nye, retired and living very quietly by choice in his home state of Maine. George began talking and it was almost stream of consciousness. He had held it inside him for so long and now someone wanted to know about it. He described taking his small team of engineer demolitions men into X-Ray to blow down some trees and clear a safer landing zone for the helicopters. Then he was talking about PFC Jimmy D. Nakayama, one of those engineer soldiers, and how a misplaced napalm strike engulfed Nakayama in the roaring flames. How he ran out into the fire and screamed at another man to grab Jimmy's feet and help carry him to the aid station. My blood ran cold and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. I had been that man on the other end of Nakayama. I had grabbed his ankles and felt the boots crumble, the skin peel, and those slick bones in my hands. Again I heard Nakayama's screams. By then we were both weeping. I knew Nakayama had died a day or two later in an Army hospital. Nye told me that Jimmy's wife had given birth to a baby girl the day he died--- and that when Nye returned to base camp at An Khe he found a letter on his desk. He had encouraged Nakayama to apply for a slot at Officer Candidate School. The letter approved that application and contained orders for Nakayama to return immediately to Ft. Benning, Ga., to enter that course.

George Nye is gone now. But I want you to know what he did with the last months of his life. He lived in Bangor, Maine, The year was 1991 and in the fall plane after plane loaded with American soldiers headed home from the Persian Gulf War stopped there to refuel. It was their first sight of home. George and some other local volunteers organized a welcome at that desolate airport. They provided coffee, snacks and the warm "Welcome home, soldier" that no one ever offered George and the millions of other Vietnam veterans. George had gone out to the airport to decorate a Christmas tree for those soldiers on the day he died. When we think of ourselves we think Shakespeare, Henry IV, Act IV, Scene 3: "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother."

Honor and decency and uncommon courage were common among these soldiers and all the soldiers who served in Vietnam. I think of how they were, on patrol, moving through jungle or rice paddies. Nervous, on edge, trying to watch right, left, ahead, behind, all at once. A friend once described it as something like looking at a tree full of owls. They were alert for sign, sound or smell of the enemy. But they also watched each other closely. At the first sign of the oppressive heat and exhaustion getting to someone the two or three guys around would relieve him of some or all of the heavy burden that the Infantryman bears: 60 or 70 pounds of stuff. Rifle and magazines. A claymore mine or two. A couple of radio batteries. Cans of C-Rations. Spare socks. Maybe a book. All that rides in the soldier's pack. They would make it easier for him to keep going. They took care of each other, because in this situation each other was all they had.

When I would pitch up to spend a day or two or three with such an outfit I was, at first, an object of some curiosity. Sooner or later a break would be called and everyone would flop down in the shade, drink some water, break out a C-Ration or a cigarette. The GI next to me would ask: What you doing out here? I would explain that I was a reporter. "You mean you are a civilian? You don't HAVE to be here?" Yes. "Man, they must pay you loads of money to do this." And I would explain that, no, unfortunately I worked for UPI, the cheapest news agency in the world. "Then you are just plain crazy, man." Once I was pigeonholed, all was all right. The grunts understood "crazy" like no one else I ever met. The welcome was warm, friendly and open. I was probably the only civilian they would ever see in the field; I was a sign that someone, anyone, outside the Big Green Machine cared how they lived and how they died. It didn't take very long before I truly did come to care.

They were, in my view, the best of their entire generation. When their number came up in the draft they didn't run and hide in Canada. They didn't turn up for their physical wearing pantyhose or full of this chemical or that drug which they hoped would fail them. Like their fathers before them they raised their right hand and took the oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. It is not their fault that the war they were sent to fight was not one that the political leadership in Washington had any intention of winning. It is not their fault that 58,200 of them died, their lives squandered because Lyndon Johnson and, later, Richard Nixon could not figure out some decent way to cut our losses and leave the Vietnamese to sort the matter out among themselves.

As I have grown older, and so have they, and first the book and now the movie have come to pass I am often asked: Doesn't this close the loop for you? Doesn't this mean you can rest easier? The answer is no, I can't. To my dying day I WILL remember and honor those who died, some in my arms. I WILL remember and honor those who lived and came home carrying memories and scars that only their brothers can share and understand. They were the best you had, America, and you turned your back on them.

[reformeddaytrader]

Commentary: Galloway on McNamara: Reading an obit with great pleasure
Joseph L. Galloway | McClatchy Newspapers
last updated: August 10, 2009 07:34:50 PM

"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure." —Clarence Darrow (1857 - 1938)
Well, the aptly named Robert Strange McNamara has finally shuffled off to join LBJ and Dick Nixon in the 7th level of Hell.

McNamara was the original bean-counter — a man who knew the cost of everything but the worth of nothing.

Back in 1990 I had a series of strange phone conversations with McNamara while doing research for my book We Were Soldiers Once And Young. McNamara prefaced every conversation with this: "I do not want to comment on the record for fear that I might distort history in the process." Then he would proceed to talk for an hour, doing precisely that with answers that were disingenuous in the extreme — when they were not bald-faced lies.

Upon hanging up I would call Neil Sheehan and David Halberstam and run McNamara's comments past them for deconstruction and the addition of the truth.

The only disagreement i ever had with Dave Halberstam was over the question of which of us hated him the most. In retrospect, it was Halberstam.

When McNamara published his first book — filled with those distortions of history — Halberstam, at his own expense, set out on a journey following McNamara on his book tour around America as a one-man truth squad.

McNamara abandoned the tour.

The most bizarre incident involving McNamara occurred when he was president of the World Bank and, off on his summer holiday, he caught the Martha's Vineyard ferry. It was a night crossing in bad weather. McNamara was in the salon, drink in hand, schmoozing with fellow passengers. On the deck outside a vineyard local, a hippie artist, glanced through the window and did a double-take. The artist was outraged to see McNamara, whom he viewed as a war criminal, so enjoying himself.

He immediately opened the door and told McNamara there was a radiophone call for him on the bridge. McNamara set down his drink and stepped outside. The artist immediately grabbed him, wrestled him to the railing and pushed him over the side. McNamara managed to get his fingers through the holes in the metal plate that ran from the top of the railing to the scuppers.

McNamara was screaming bloody murder; the artist was prying his fingers loose one at a time. Someone heard the racket and raced out and pulled the artist off.

By the time the ferry docked in the vineyard McNamara had decided against filing charges against the artist, and he was freed and walked away.

[❤ mollymouser ❤]

Florida Yankee ... I like your disclaimer