St. Peter and the 9th ID

by: Author Unknown,

One day, four young 9th ID warriors turn up outside the pearly gates.
St. Peter explained that before they could pass they must answer
one simple question.
Up walked the first guy. St Peter asked, "What's 2+2?"
The 1st warrior answered: "3"
"NO" said St Peter.
"5"
"NO" said St Peter.
"4"
"Yes; in you go."
Up comes the second warrior. St Peter asked him, "What's 2+2?"
He answered, "The square route of 16."
Very impressed, St Peter allows him past.
Up comes the third warrior. St Peter asked him, "What's 2+2?"
"It's greater than 2."
"Yes"
"But less than 6"
"Yes"
"It's greater than 3"
"Yes"
"But less than 5"
"Yes"
"It's 4"
"Well done; in you go"
Up comes the fourth warrior. St Peter asked him, "What's 2+2?"
"5, Ooo-Rahhhhh!!!" and with no pause he barges past St Peter
and in through the Pearly Gates.
Observing all this, an angel asked St Peter, "What was all that
about?" St Peter answered, "It's perfectly obvious: there must
be a war on earth,
and those four men were all 9th ID veterans who have been killed."
"How can you tell they were 9th ID veterans?" inquires the angel.
"The first guy was an engineer -- dumb as seaweed and crude as
mud, but he kept hammering away until he got through."
"The second guy was an aviator -- provided me more
information than I really required."
"The third guy was an artilleryman -- uncomfortable with any
firm answer, but was bracketing to zero in on the correct answer."
"But what about the fourth guy?" inquired the angel. "He got it
wrong, and then tore through the gates anyway."
"Ahhhhhhhh," said St Peter, "That was a grunt --
dumber than dirt, but you've gotta just love 'em.

Nam Vet

by: Author Unknown,
When the Lord was creating Vietnam Veterans...He was in His 6th day of overtime when an angel appeared.... "You are certainly doing a lot of fiddling around on this one"
And God said:
"Have you seen the spec's on this order? A Nam Vet has to be able to run 5 miles through the bush with a full pack on, endure with barely any sleep for days, enter tunnels where his higher ups wouldn't consider going, and keep his weapons clean and operable. He has to be able to sit in a hole all night during an attack, hold his buddies as they die, walk Point in unfamiliar territory known to be VC-infested, and somehow keep his senses alert for danger. He has to be in top physical condition, existing on C-rats and very little rest. And he has to have 6 pairs of hands."
The angel shook his head slowly and said: "6 pairs of hands??? No way!"
"It's, not the hands that are causing Me problems.... It’s the 3 pairs of eyes a Nam Vet has to have."
That's on the standard model?" Asked the angel.
The Lord nodded... " One pair that sees through elephant grass, another pair here in the side of his head for his buddies, another pair in front that can look reassuringly at his bleeding, fellow soldier and say: "YOU'LL MAKE IT!" When he knows he won't..."
"Lord, rest, and work on this tomorrow..."
"I can't!"... Said the Lord. "I already have a model that can carry a wounded soldier 1,000 yards during a fire fight, calm the fears of the latest FNG, and feed a family for 4 on a Grunts pay..."
The angel walked around the model and said: "Can it think?"
"You bet!"... Said the Lord. "It can quote much of the UCMJ, recite all it's General Orders, and engage in a Search and Destroy Mission in less time it takes his fellow Americans back home, to discuss the morality of the War, and still keep his sense of humor. The Nam Vet also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with Ambushes from Hell, comfort a fallen soldier's family, and read in his hometown paper about how Nam Vets are baby killers, psychos, addicts, and killers of civilians..."
Then the Lord gazed into the Future and said: "He will also endure being vilified and spit on when he returns home, rejected and crucified by the very ones he fought for..."
Finally, the angel slowly ran his finger across the Vet's cheek, and said: "There's a leak. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model..."
"That's not a leak!" Said the Lord. "That's a tear..."
"What's the tear for?" Asked the angel.
"It's for the bottled up emotions, for holding fallen soldiers as they die, for commitment to that special piece of cloth called "The American Flag", for the terror of living with PTSD for decades after the war, along with its demons, with no one to care or help..."
"You're a genius!" Said the angel, casting a gaze at the tear...
The Lord looked somber, as if seeing down Eternity's distant shores...
" I didn't put it there. " He said softly.

The Other Protester

by: Author Unknown,

A protest raged on a courthouse lawn,

round a makeshift stage they charged on.

Fifteen hundred or more they say,

had come to burn the Flag that day.

A boy held up the folded Flag,

cursed it and called it a dirty rag.

A man pushed through the angry crowd,

with an old gun shouldered proud.

His uniform jacket was old and tight,

he had polished each button, shiny and bright.

He crossed the stage with military grace,

until he and the boy stood face to face.

Then the old man broke the silence.

Freedom of speech, is worth dying for,

Good men are gone, they live no more.

All so you can stand on this courthouse lawn,

and ramble on from dusk to dawn.

But before the Flag gets burned today,

this old veteran is going to have his say.

My father died on a foreign shore,

in a war they said would end all wars.

Tommy and I weren't even full grown,

before we fought in a war of our own.

Tommy died on Iwo Jima's beach,

in the shadow of a hill he couldn't reach.

Where five good men raised this Flag so high,

that the whole world could see it fly.

I got this bum leg that I still drag,

fighting for this same old Flag.

There's but one shot in this old gun,

so now it's time to decide which one.

Which one of you will follow our lead,

to stand and die for what you believe?"

The boy who had called it a dirty rag,

handed the veteran the folded Flag.

The crowd got quiet as they walked away,

to talk about what they heard that day.

So the battle for the Flag this day was won,

by a loyal veteran with a single gun.

Who for one last time, had to show to some,

That these colors will never, never run.

It is the veteran, not the preacher,

who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the veteran, not the reporter,

who has given us freedom of the press..

It is the veteran, not the poet,

who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the veteran, not the campus organizer,

who has given us freedom to assemble.

It is the veteran, not the lawyer,

who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the veteran, not the politician,

Who has given us the right to vote.

Boston

by: Author Unknown,

Ship me north to good old Boston,
Where the dives are of the worst.
Where there ain't no taste in liquor,
But it sure can quench the thirst.

Where old Scollay Square keeps calling,
And it's there where I would be,
In a booth at the Imperial,
With some gal to drink with me.

Let me feel again the cobbles,
Or the dirt that trips my feet,
As I slowly wander shipward,
From a night on Chelsea Street.

Tie me down with limits plenty,
Stop my rations, cut my pay,
But in dirty, dark old Boston,
Send me there and let me stay!

Former Cutter Sinks Two

by: Author Unknown,

A former Coast Guard cutter which joined the Royal Navy last year was honored as the single-handed victor over one and possibly two submarines.
The Admiralty in a special announcement told how the one-time Chelan, now called the Lulworth, threw her 1,983 tons into a ramming attack on the 1,332-ton Italian submarine Pietro Calvi after bringing the submersible to the surface with depth charges.
With the impact, the Pietro Calvi turned on her side, dumped part of her crew into the water and sank before a boarding party could reach her.
A second submarine surfaced nearby the Admiralty said, and the Lulworth’s gunners scored direct hits on the conning tower before the craft could dive. Hours were spent searching but it could not be confirmed that the submarine had been sunk.
There was one humorous touch to the whole engagement.
The Pietro Calvi’s navigation officer identified as a former Olympic swimmer, churned his way so rapidly toward the Lulworth that he was mistaken originally for a torpedo.

Greenland Rescue

by: Author Unknown,

Twenty-six American Army fliers, marooned for two weeks on the sub-zero desert which is the Greenland Ice Cap, thought the stub nose and squat hulk of a Coast Guard cutter in the Navy’s Greenland Patrol was the most beautiful marine design that ever came off the drawing boards.
The rescue was a soul-warming example of cooperation between Army and Navy forces. In less than 24 hours after the planes were forced down in the barren waste of ice and snow, Navy planes droned overhead dropping food and bedding and reading matter.
For 14 days the castaways lived in comfort awaiting the rescue party. Some of them even gained weight. They all acquired sun tans which would be the envy of a Miami Beach life guard. But they still wanted to get out.
Under command of Lieutenant (j.g.) Fred Crockett, U.S.N., an arctic and antarctic explorer, an Army Air Corps party reached the stranded group about noon one day. The Navy patrol planes were still zooming above acting as the “fire by night and pillar of cloud by day.”
At 9 P. M. the same day the entire group started down from the ice cap. Crunching through crusted snow, sinking hip deep in soft flakes, and creeping daintily over crevasse-split patches of glassy ice, they reach the coast 14 hours later.
They knew the coast would be uninhabited, but were not ready for the wilderness of icebergs which stretched as far as the could see—bergs in all fantastic shapes and sizes that an imaginative stage designer could produce, bergs 400 feet high and other bergs a mile long.
They had just had time enough to start feeling sorry for themselves again when two bergs slowly unclenched and through the narrow opening poked the stub nose of the Coast Guard cutter.
To get in, the cutter under command of Lieutenant Commander Francis C. Pollard, USCG, had spent 36 hours attacking the sea ice. It was a heart-breaking process of running for tens of miles in open leads in the ice only to be stymied and have to return. The break-through was finally made like the crossing of the Red Sea, the ice was pushed back on either side—and it closed in again immediately.
The fliers were a great deal more than dog-tired when they came aboard. The dog team that went in with the rescue party was right chipper. Outside of the weariness, the universal injury was foot blisters. The ship’s doctor was immediately christened “Florence Nightingale” for the great diminution in foot pain.
The trip out through the sea ice was more perilous than the trip in. under the influence of an on-shore breeze the bergs had moved closer to the beach and were rubbing cheeks. On one occasion two large blocks of ice, each the size of a Giant Market, were drawn inward by the suction of the ship’s wake and smashed together twenty feet behind the stern.
Soft, warm beds, plenty of steak and mashed potatoes, and water that they didn’t have to melt rejuvenated the Arctic Crusoes. They said there was only one more thing they could want—a tall drink with lots of ice.

Navy - Night Before Christmas

by: Author Unknown

'Twas the night before Christmas, compartments were still, The sailors were sleeping, as most sailors will.The ditty bags hung by the lockers with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.The men were all peacefully dreaming in bed

As visions of liberty danced in each head.The Chief in his skivvies, hopped into his rack, Having just came from town and a quick midnight snack.When out on the deck there arose such a roar, I ran to the porthole to find out the score.

I stuck out my head and started to shout, "Just what in the world is this noise all about?"A moon made for boondocking showed with a glow, It was downright cold out, 'bout seven below.What I saw out there looked like those Mardi Gras floats, 'Twas a Captain's gig drawn by four white Navy goats.

In the boat was a man who seemed quiet and moody, I knew in an instant St. Nick had the duty.

As quickly as Monday his billy goats came, He whistled and shouted and called them by name."Now Perry, now Farragut, Dewey and Jones, What's the matter John Paul, got lead in your bones?A little to Starb'rd, now hold it up short, No fluffing off now, or you'll go on report!"He was wearing dress "Reds" that fit like a charm, His hash marks they covered the length of his arm.The gifts to be issued were all in his pack, The gedunk was ready to leave on each rack.

His eyes they were watering, his nose caked with ice, He wiped it with canvass, then sneezed once or twice.He opened his mouth and started to yawn, It looked like the Sun coming up with the dawn.The stump of a pipe, he held tight in his teeth, And took a small nip from a bottle beneath.

He wasn't so big, but he must have been strong, I figured he'd been in SEALs early and long.He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old Tar, Who said "Evenin' Matey, here - have a cigar."He filled every seabag with presents galore, And left us all leave papers, right by the door.With "Anchors Aweigh" he climbed back into place, A broad smile was creeping all over his face.One look at his watch and he started to frown, "This mid watch is certainly getting me down."Then out to the breakwater and into the night, The gig started fading, the landscape was bright."Merry Christmas" he said, as he drove on his way, "Now I'll finish my rounds and sack in for the day."

Ann Margaret

by: Author Unknown,

Viet Nam 1966
Richard, (my husband), never really talked a lot about his time in Viet Nam other than he had been shot by a sniper. However, he had a rather grainy, 8 x 10 black and white photo he had taken at a USO show of Ann Margaret with Bob Hope in the background that was one of his treasures.

A few years ago, Ann Margaret was doing a book signing at a local bookstore. Richard wanted to see if he could get her to sign the treasured photo so he arrived at the bookstore at 12 o'clock for the 7:30 signing.When I got there after work, the line went all the way around the bookstore, circled the parking lot and disappeared behind a parking garage. Before her appearance, bookstore employees announced that she would sign only her book and no memorabilia would be permitted.
Richard was disappointed, but wanted to show her the photo and let her know how much those shows meant to lonely GI's so far from home. Ann Margaret came out looking as beautiful as ever and, as second in line, it was soon Richard's turn. He presented the book for her signature and then took out the photo. When he did, there were many shouts from the employees that she would not sign it. Richard said, "I understand. I just wanted her to see it."She took one look at the photo, tears welled up in her eyes and she said, "This is one of my gentlemen from Viet Nam and I most certainly will sign his photo. I know what these men did for their country and I always have time for 'my gentlemen.'"
With that, she pulled Richard across the table and planted a big kiss on him. She then made quite a to-do about the bravery of the young men she met over the years, how much she admired them, and how much she appreciated them. There weren't too many dry eyes among those close enough to hear. She then posed for pictures and acted as if he was the only one there.

Later at dinner, Richard was very quiet. When I asked if he'd like to talk about it, my big strong husband broke down in tears. "That's the first time anyone ever thanked me for my time in the Army," he said. That night was a turning point for him. He walked a little straighter and, for the first time in years, was proud to have been a Vet. I'll never forget Ann Margaret for her graciousness and how much that small act of kindness meant to my husband.

I now make it a point to say "Thank you" to every person I come across who served in our Armed Forces. Freedom does not come cheap and I am grateful for all those who have served their country.

Old Guard and New Guard

by: Author Unknown,

Old Guard - If you smoked, you had an ashtray on your desk.

New Guard - If you smoke, you get sent to the weather deck and treated like a leper.
Old Guard - Mail took weeks to come to the ship.

New Guard - Every time you get near land, there's a mob topside to see if their cell phones work..
Old Guard - If you left the ship on liberty or leave it was in Dress Blues or Undress Whites, even in your home port.

New Guard - The only time you wear Blues ashore is for ceremonies.
Old Guard - You wore bell bottoms everywhere on the ship.

New Guard - Bell bottoms are gone and 14 year-old girls wear them everywhere.
Old Guard - You wore a dixie cup [hat] all day, with every uniform.

New Guard - It's gone and you have a choice in different hats and caps.
Old Guard -The Ships Office had a typewriter on his desk for doing daily reports.

New Guard - Everyone has a computer with Internet access and they wonder why no work is getting done.
Old Guard - We painted pictures of pretty girls on airplanes to remind us of home.

New Guard - We put the real thing in the cockpit.
Old Guard - Your girlfriend was at home, praying you would return alive.

New Guard - She is on your same ship, praying your condom worked.
Old Guard - If you got drunk off duty, your buddies would take you back to the ship so you could sleep it off.

New Guard - If you get drunk off duty, they slap you in rehab and ruin your career.
Old Guard - Canteens were made out of steel and you could heat coffee or hot chocolate in them.

New Guard - Canteens are made of plastic, you can't heat them because they'll melt, and anything inside always tastes like plastic.
Old Guard - Our top officers were professional sailors first. They commanded respect.

New Guard - Our top officers are politicians first. They beg not to be given a wedgie.
Old Guard - They collected enemy intelligence and analyzed it.

New Guard - They collect our pee and analyze it.
Old Guard - If you didn't act right, they'd put you on extra duty until you straightened up.

New Guard - If you don't act right, they start a paper trail that follows you forever.
Old Guard - Medals were awarded to heroes who saved lives at the risk of their own.

New Guard - Medals are awarded to people who show up for work most of the time.
Old Guard - You slept in a barracks, like a soldier, sailor,or marine.

New Guard - You sleep in a dormitory, like a college kid.
Old Guard - You ate in a Mess Hall. It was free and you could have all the food you wanted.

New Guard - You eat in a Dining Facility. Every slice of bread or pat of butter costs, and you can only have one.
Old Guard - If you wanted to relax, you went to the club , played pool, smoked & drank beer.

New Guard -You go to the Community Center and can still play pool, maybe.
Old Guard - If you wanted a quart of beer and conversation, you could go to the NCO or Officers' Club.

New Guard - The beer will cost you two dollars and someone is watching to see how much you drink.
Old Guard - The Exchange had bargains for Coasties who didn't make much money.

New Guard - You can get better merchandise cheaper at Wal-Mart.
Old Guard - If an Admiral wanted to make a presentation, he scribbled down some notes and a YN spent an hour preparing a bunch of charts.

New Guard - The Admiral has his entire staff spending days preparing a Power Point presentation.
Old Guard - We called the enemy things like "Commie Bastards" and "Reds"because we didn't like them.

New Guard - We call the enemy things like "Opposing Forces" and "Aggressors"so we won't offend them.
Old Guard - We declared victory when the enemy was dead and all their things were broken.

New Guard - We declare victory when the enemy says he is sorry and won't do it again.
Old Guard - A commander would put his butt on the line to protect his people.

New Guard - A commander will put his people on the line to protect his butt.

Where There Is No Glory

by: Author Unknown,

EVERY TURN of a ship's propeller marks the heartbeat of a floating community. And nurturing those vital hearts are hovering men --men of the Black Gang! These men know that engines can't rest. A day has twenty four hours; a week has 168, but neither the end of a day nor terminus of a week brings surcease to the engines which do drive, drive our ships of war.

Engines drive ships to Hitler's threshold, Engines drive all to the waters of the Jap. Those engines cannot fail. for if they fail some soldier's gun will go silent, some fighting man will go hungry, some wounded man will die.

Deep in the bowels of Coast Guard ships grim men in their midst the reek of oil, the stench of steam and the ceaseless chatter of mechanical power and ruggedness in motion. Machinery, men.

There's little glory for the Engineers. These grimy working jockeys of machinery have never been considered good "copy" by reporters and photographers. When bombs fall, when torpedoes lurk, when guns blaze, the Engineers scurry to their battle stations far below decks where, like ,wierd subterranean, gnomes. they wrestle with, the steam and electricity and machinery that KEEPS THE SHIP ALIVE.

When the "Old Man" on the bridge rings for "Full Speed" to meet the foe it's the Black Gang that sends the ship cleaving through the water like a greyhound. Let the Black Gang go down on their assignment and. . . . .

Neither in life nor in death is there anything neat and clean about the Engineers. Theirs is an existence of sweat and grime and toil, plus a superior knowledge of marine engineering. A death in the midst of boilers and steam and shafts and machinery is not nice to think about but it is the price which has been by many Engineers who have been at their below-water posts when tragedy struck.
There's a peculiar pride about Engineers, a pride difficult be understood by persons who have not known the thrill of commanding. controlling, directing and maintaining the loud thunder of steam and the bright lightning of man-made electricity.

When the history of World War II is eventually written, there will surely be a special chapter devoted to the recounting of the modern miracles of marine engineering performed by men of the Black Gang who have coddled all manner of machinery and kept propellers turning with monotonous regularity and dependability

Theirs is an assignment of anonymity,-as can be observed by the absence of names of engineering officers and enlisted engineers from the majority of stories coming from battle zones. With a modest touch of humor, men of the Black Gang have said, "Oh, we just go along for the ride." But no one needs be told that, if it were not for the Black Gang, there'd be no ride!

From the third-class fireman cleaning burners under the watchful eye of a watertender up to the engineering officer aboard our largest troop carrier there is a bond of common pride and respect. They keep the propellers turning!
They control the mechanical power of landing barges. They keep airplanes aloft.
They maintain power plants at great shore installations.

They are THE ENGINEERS!

He Saw Three Invasions

by: Author Unknown,

John S. Gretzer, a slender youth from Council Bluffs, Ia., was working in Kansas City, Mo., as an artist when he enlisted in the Coast Guard to see action. He saw it. During eighteen months’ service aboard a Coast Guard manned combat transport he participated in the invasions of North Africa, Sicily, and Italy.
“Bombers for breakfast, bombers for supper, bombers all the time. You couldn’t even sit down to eat without feeling that in a couple minutes you were going to run for the guns,” he said, recalling the North African invasion.
At night the German bombers dropped flares. It’s twice as bad at night as in daytime when you can see what’s going on around you. At night you feel as if the dark hides you, then a flare drops and you have the horrible feeling of being naked in public,” said the Coast Guard combat artist, whose battle station was at a 20 mm.
“Algiers was my first invasion and it made the greatest impression on my mind. After that invasions were somewhat the same. The incidents were different, however. I remember the German plane that came in so low at Gela that I could see the pilot, and seeing his plane get hit the second time he tried it. All that I could think of was speed being smashed into death, though the words didn’t come to me until later. I think I was most nervous at Salerno when we were leaving. We had to go through a narrow channel in a minefield, single file, and I kept thinking that if the lead ship was sunk the rest would be blockaded and the Germans could bump us off like drowsy ducks. Actually, however, North Africa was the hardest on the ships, and Salerno the hardest on the soldiers, judging from what I saw.”
The Coast Guardsman was born in Council Bluffs, Ia., in 1920. At various times he attended Omaha University in Omaha, Nebr., worked as an advertising artist at the Omaha World-Herald, and attended the Kansas City, Mo., Art Institute. Thomas Hart Benton was among his instructors at the Art Institute. In December, 1941, Gretzer married the former Miss Agneta E. Jenson, of Omaha, whom he first met in a sculpture class at the university. Several months later he enlisted in the Coast Guard.

Five Months on the Greenland Ice Cap

by: Author Unknown,

LIEUTENANT (j.g.) Gerard A. Hearn, of the United States Coast Guard, carved a colorful paragraph in the post-war history books when he and a small group of Coast Guardsmen and army men stepped on Greenland’s frozen shores to enact a drama as stirring as it is simple.
Charged with the task of rescuing U. S. Army fliers stranded on the Greenland Ice Cap, Lieutenant Hearn and his companions spent five and a half months on the world’s largest island patrolling acres of frozen ground and treacherous glaciers. Although they did not succeed in rescuing the men they set out to find, 25 other fliers, including a group of Canadians, were brought back to safety by the intrepid little party.
This was in December, 1942, and Lieutenant Hearn then Chief Pharmacist’s Mate Hearn was attached to the Coast Guard cutter Northland on the Greenland patrol. On the third day of the month, Hearn, along with five other Coast Guardsmen, was detached from duty aboard his ship and put ashore on Greenland. Other than the men in their party and the men they rescued, they saw not another human until May 20, when they again rejoined their shipmates.
Recently promoted to Lieutenant (j.g.) from the rank of Ensign, the Coast Guard officer is presently attached to the Eighth Naval District Medical Office, in New Orleans.
As Hearn tells it, he and the members of the rescue party lived in “an overgrown crate, about 30 feet square.” This was their home and before their departure, the wood hut had been buried under 16 feet of snow. A small boat that landed the party was tied up next to the hut and eventually pushed under nearly 20 feet of ice and snow.
For patrol work, the rescuers used Eskimo dogs, those hardy “Huskies” which are used in the polar regions.
Explaining that the men they were seeking were not “more than 20 or 30 miles away,” Hearn said that it was impossible to get to them by traversing a straight line. Glaciers, crevasses and dangerous ice formations made it necessary to seek another route, which made the distance much greater. Out on patrol when the snow storms abated, the men ate in the snow, slept in the snow, and lived in the snow.
“When we were out with the dogs,” Hearn related, “we would stay for days and sleeping was a matter of rolling out our bags, digging a hole in the snow and crawling in.”
FOR THE RECORDS
As proof of the intense cold, Hearn told of a time when nine of their 15 dogs were frozen to death in a 100-mile-an-hour snow storm. That, he explained, was something for the books, for the canines are usually impervious to the weather.
Hearn, who is a veteran of 12 years’ service in the Coast Guard, all of which were spent as a pharmacist’s mate, explained that on this mission it was his job to minister medical needs of the men. In line with this work, he amputated two toes, pulled two teeth, and “delivered pups of an Eskimo dog.”
The amputation was the result of a patrol sortie during which Ensign Richard L. Fuller officer in charge of the party had two of his pedal extremities frozen. Hearn performed the operation with all the skill of a trained surgeon, and today Lieutenant Fuller is in excellent health.
“The teeth extractions were just routine,” Hearn said, “and because we had little novacaine. I imagine the man must have suffered a little.”
The Coast Guard officer described as the worst menace to the party the possibility of them being poisoned by carbon monoxide fumes from their stoves as they slept in their hut. When the ventilators filled with snow, this danger was always present. However, during the violent storms which swept the island, their stoves went out and they spent days on end in their sleeping bags.
When the party ran out of gasoline, the lived by candlelight and Hearn remembers “how hard it was to play cards by one candle.” Acey-ducey, cribbage and poker were their only diversions, and they played these games for “penny ante.”
The most amazing fact of the whole five months on the island, Hearn declared, was the absence of sickness in the men. “Not one man had a cold during our stay,” he said.
Another member of the rescue party Boatswain’s Mate First Class Stanley P. Preble, USCG is now stationed at the quarter barges in Algiers, La., and he and Lieutenant Hearn still enjoy swapping tales of their adventure.
“Preble was one of the men who had his tooth extracted,” Hearn recalled, “and then another time, he and four of our men were nearly lost when they went 90 degrees off their course on patrol.
Most exciting event of the Greenland stay was the Christmas Day dinner, three turkeys, cooked and stuffed and dropped to the little group from an army plane. “I’ll never forget that day,” Hearn declared, “for we would not have believed it was Christmas if we hadn’t had the turkeys.”
Food for other days was canned rations, and the men took turns cooking and doing KP duty, because “on that island, rank was forgotten and every man was his shipmate’s equal.”
For his efforts on this hazardous mission, Lieutenant Hearn has been commended by Admiral R. E. Ingersoll, Commander-in-Chief of the U. S. Atlantic Fleet. Following is the commendation:
“The Commander-in-Chief, Atlantic Fleet, notes with pleasure and gratification the report of your performance of duty at the Beach Head Station, East Greenland, from 4 December, 1942, to 8 May, 1943, when you served as a volunteer member of a rescue party.
“You with the other members of a small party, made valiant attempts to locate a crashed Coast Guard plane and to rescue nine U. S. Army officers and men stranded on the Greenland Ice Cap. You met with courage the dangers of winter weather, extreme cold, and treacherous ice conditions which prevailed during your long period at the Beach Head Station.
“The Commander-in-Chief, Atlantic Fleet, commends you for your courage, energetic and cheerful cooperation, and devotion to duty.”
In addition to the commendation ribbon, Hearn wears the American Defense ribbon, the American theatre ribbon, the Middle East ribbon, the Coast Guard good conduct ribbon, and rifle and pistol ribbons. Also, he has been commended by the army officer in charge of the rescue operations in Greenland. For their work in rescuing the Canadian fliers, the crew members of the Northland were presented a silver service by the Canadian Government.

LIEUT. (j.g.) G. A. HEARN was a veteran Coast Guardsman who rose through the ranks. Formerly a pharmacist’s mate, he performed much medical service at important Coast Guard units ashore and afloat.

Coxswains Led THE Way

by: Author Unknown,

Aboard a Coast Guard-manned assault transport, off Eniwetok Atoll. Landing boat coxswains, toughened by months of battling heavy seas, tricky beaches, and murderous Jap fire, today again demonstrated the prowess which has given them an almost legendary reputation.
Here on Parry Island, last remaining Jap-held island in the Eniwetok Atoll, they were put to the toughest test of all. Leaving their attack-transport “motherships” in the pre-dawn gloom, they found their way through rough seas and smoke-filled air to one particular designed bit of a beachhead. They braved Jap fire; standing up to steer their tiny ramp-boats into the rugged coral beaches, unload their cargos of men, ammunition, food, water, or TNT, and then back off the beach, splash their way through more heavy gunfire to get out of the area and back to their ships. . . .for another load.
The crews of these Higgins boats are rugged, seasoned men, sometimes over-confident about their ability to escape rifle and machine gun fire, but all of them number-1 seamen who know their boats and what they can do.

TYPICAL COXSWAIN

Today, one of these boatmen proved that he was carrying out the ideals of the service, “above and beyond the call of duty.” He wasn’t wounded, not even slightly hurt, but he proved beyond doubt that a sharp, ready mind, and a brave heart are part and parcel of his hazardous profession.
This boat coxswain, Clyde Brien, of Alameda, Calif., has taken the initial waves ashore in many landing. On Engebi in this same atoll, at Tarawa in the Gilberts, he still thinks his is the best job in the service. At Tarawa the coxswains lived in their boats for five days, eating and sleeping whenever their duties allowed. Here they have only had to go for 24 hours at the most without sleep, so they say “The going has not been so tough.”
Brien, as coxswain for one of the leading wave control boats, was first to spot the shellfire that was creeping closer to them as they sped towards the beach at Eniwetok. “I first noticed black puffs of smoke, followed by a sharp crack when we passed an LCI (landing Craft, Infantry) which was being used as a gun support vessel on Parry Island,” he said. “Then, as we passed by the LCI, another sharp crack made us all hit the deck. When we looked up again, smoke was pouring from her stern. I immediately yelled to Mr. Johnson (Lieutenant (j.g.) J. M. Johnson, of Gainsville, Fla.) and pointed to the burning LCI. We came alongside to see if we could help.”
As they tied up alongside the LCI, flames were shooting from the stern, and they noticed bodies, badly burned and grotesquely sprawled on the blackened fantail of that ship. “We clambered aboard and saw a man who had been decapitated by the explosion which had apparently hit their powder magazines. The flames we saw were coming from the magazine itself where hundreds of rounds of 40-mm. ammunition were stored.
Johnson told of working desperately to get a fire hose into the flaming stern while tossing red hot shells and rockets into the water. “If that magazine had gone off, our lifejackets wouldn’t have done us any good parachutes would have been more in order,” Brien said with a grim smile.
He went on to tell of two of the LCI crew who were close to death. One’s leg had been severed above the knee and was hanging by a few loose pieces of flesh. Strangely, he was not bleeding badly, but another boy, with a leg in shreds, was spurting blood and was in great pain. “We managed to stop the flow of blood and gave both wounded men shots of morphine from our tiny syrettes and then lowered them into our landing barge.”
“Luckily the magazine fire was put out finally, and we continued on our way, dropping the wounded men at the hospital ship,” Brien continued.

White Caps and Sea Breezes

by: Author Unknown,

The despondent old gentleman emerged from his office and climbed stiffly into his luxurious limousine.
“Where to, Sir?” asked the chauffeur respectfully.
“Drive off a cliff, James,” replied the old gentleman. “I’m committing suicide.”


A lot of auto wrecks result from the driver hugging the wrong curve.


He: “But, darling, why aren’t you wearing my fraternity pin?”
She: “All the fellas said that it scratched their hands.”


A sailor and his girl were riding out in the country on horseback. As they stopped for a rest the two horses rubbed necks affectionately.
“Ah, me,” said the sailor, “that’s what I’d like to do.”
“Well, go ahead,” answered the girl, “it’s your horse.”


Mary had a little wolf,
She fleeced his white as snow.


Old main friend of our would like to get in touch with one of these V Males she’s been hearing about lately.


“I never knew Walter had twins.”
“Yeh, he married a telephone girl and she gave him the wrong number.”


A shoulder strap is a piece of ribbon placed so as the keep an attraction from becoming a sensation.


Have you heard that the Pistol-Packin’ Mamma is expecting a B B?


She: “What wonderfully developed arms you have.”
Bill Nolan: “Yes, I’m a football player. By the way, were you ever on a track team?”


Too bad about old Cap Winters, the retired sea captain. His wife just ran away with another man. Cap Winters took her for a mate, and she turned out to be a skipper.


He: “Why is it you have so man boy friends?”
She: “I give up.”


Her dress was tight,
She scarce could breathe.
She sneezed aloud,
And there stood Eve!


Doctor: “It’s most essential that you should refrain from doing any head work during the next few weeks.”
Patient: “Yes, doctor, but it’s my living.”
Doctor: “Oh, are you a scholar?”
Patient: “No, I’m a barber.”


Sailor on Leave: “I’m homesick.”
Shipmate: “Isn’t that your home?”
Sailor on Leave: “Yes, but I’m sick of it.”


“Dammit, leftovers again,” growled the cannibal chief as he nibbled on the two old maids.


He: “There’s a reason for my liking you.”
She: “My goodness!”
He: “Don’t be silly.”


Two little boys were loitering on a corner when one said to the other:
“How old are you?”
“I’m five,” was the reply. “How old are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know how old you are?”
“Nope!”
“Do women bother you?”
“Nope!”
“You’re four.”


First Civie: “My brother went two years to West Point. He’s a half soldier.”
Second Civie: “That’s nothing. My brother’s a wholesailer.”


Sailor: “Why won’t you marry me?”
Girl: “I wouldn’t think of it. My father was offered a crown three times, but he refused it.”
Sailor: “How come? Was he holding out for a porcelain filling?”

“My wife and I had an argument and she went home to her folks in Maine.”
“Bangor?”
“I didn’t even touch her.”