Fun and games

Last weekend was a sports fest extraordinaire. The Better Half swam in the Illinois state Masters meet, which is usually a pretty good event. The Chicago area has a lot of amateur swimmers (not surprising with a metro area population of about 6 million) so the competition is usually pretty good and there are plenty of swimmers in every age group. TBH took six firsts in age group in the six events she swam (1000 freestyle, 200 back, 50 back, 100 IM, 200 freestyle, and 400 IM). Sweep! She'd have set the state record in the 1000 but she's in Iowa Masters and state records can only be set by swimmers belonging to in-state swim squads. Crap!

I think she's going to switch to Illinois Masters next short course yards season. The competition is better and a local team is now up and running (Western Illinois Masters Program Swimmers-which forms the neat acronym WIMPS) to compete with the big state squads like Naperville Waves and Evanston Wild Cat-Fish. It would help her to get back to a club with regular workouts, interval training, and coaching.

My job? Cheer, count laps on the long freestyles, lug stuff (swimmers pack an amazing amount of gear for just needing a suit and a towel), and drive. If there's a meet in an area that has something I want to see or do, we'll try to work it in. Doesn't happen all that often.

The meet was held in DeKalb, home of Northern Illinois University and a Greek row that reminds one of the Deltas from 'Animal House'. But I have fond memories of DeKalb and NIU. I helped a girl I knew, NatalieC, move into her 'studio apartment' near campus, going on, oh, 14 years ago (!). 'Studio apartment' is probably a glowing description, since the place was nearly the size of the bathroom in a Winnebago RV. But, hey, it's student digs and university students ain't too discriminating. Natalie and I went out casually a few times but she was going places and I was in my own 'career', such as it was. It wouldn't have worked out, I think. But she was an elegant girl, from a more civilized age. Wherever she is, I hope life was everything she wanted.

But most things work out how they will, and back to the present. TBH and I were looking for a place to get some decent Indian food, only to find no curry houses anywhere in town. DeKalb may be the ONLY university town on the planet that has no Indian restaurants. We ended with Chinese instead, from a little hole-in-the-wall place on campus. Good value-we each got three meals from what we were served. I guess you can't go wrong in opening a restaurant that can serve a lot of relatively cheap grub to drunken college kids.

Sunday saw our first baseball outing of the 2010 campaign with the River Bandits. TBH was sort of leading our church's children's choir in singing the national anthem before the game so we had to be there. The group had tickets in the alcohol-free family section. I got us two seats behind home plate. There we're away from everyone and I can have a beer. Everyone wins.

We were worried because it was supposed to rain all weekend, and it poured here on Saturday. We caught a bit if a break in that the rain let up during the games. The sun even peeked out briefly a couple of times. The kids did pretty well singing the Banner and they behaved decently before and during the games. Actually, we caught a bonus-Saturday's game was rained out so the Bandits played a doubleheader on Sunday (the Midwest League will play two short seven-inning games when they have unscheduled doubleheaders). When I used to go to the old Clinton Giants games, I liked seeing doubleheaders-two games for the price of one. If you had a free pass, that was a hell of a deal. And the Bandits (the Cardinals' farm team) swept the day over the Peoria Chiefs (the Cubs' farm team), 3-1, and 1-0. Figures.

Most of you have seen pictures of Modern Woodmen Park so you know what the place looks like. This winter the club installed new drainage on the field which is supposed to handle seven inches of rain per hour. If we get that much rain in one swoop it'll be boat-riding time anyway. The field and turf looked good, though. Inside the stadium, they've improved the concessions by having fewer menu items and getting them out faster, which is fine by me. I don't expect gourmet cuisine at the ball park, and I don't care to wait two innings to get it. Had a decent hot dog with the works and a Bent River Stout to go along with it. A good day.

We'll probably catch a half-dozen or so Bandits games, and make the drive to Clinton to catch the Lumber Kings a couple of times. I cut my baseball teeth going to those games back in the early 80's. That field hasn't changed a lot since 1935 when they built it. It's a laid-back stadium and close to the action. A great place to spend a summer afternoon or evening!

This summer we're planning on one MLB tilt-a bus trip to Chicago to catch the Cubs play the Phillies in July. Yeah, a bus trip. Like an old couple. You try driving to and finding a parking spot within 2 miles of Wrigley Field in the summer! You'd sign up for a bus trip, too. I'd like to (time permitting) get up to Miller Park to catch the Brewers as well. I pull for the Cubs-but Miller Park is an infinitely better stadium to get into, out of, and around in. I hope in the next couple of years to get up to Minneapolis to the Twins' new park, Target Field. It's an open-air stadium, which should be interesting in April. Minnesota can be damn cold and snowy, even in late spring. We'll see how the Twins fare outside of the old Humpdome.

The powers-that-be were talking about getting Amtrak service from Chicago out here to the Quads and on to Iowa City (which would have tied us and the University of Iowa to Amtrak's hub at Union Station in Chicago). It doesn't look like it'll happen anytime soon, which is a shame. I'd gladly have gotten on a train and relaxed in a big comfy coach seat all the way to Chicago. A person could walk to a lot of places in the city or gotten on the El to the major sports venues. I'd go to more ball games and events in Chicago if I didn't have to sit on the parking lots expressways to get in and out of town. Not much fun doing that anymore.

Reckon that about catches up everyone with goings-on around these parts. I'm going to finish watching the Blackhawks game. We'll see if they can finish off the Predators tonight and get ready for Vancouver on the road to Lord Stanley's Cup.

Never mind. The Hawks beat the Preds 5-3. Bring on the Canucks.
yankeedog out.

Weekend musings

First, thanks to those who commented on my last post. I kind of followed Bangar's first comment, and tried that. I reckon it was a success! The Blademaster of Melbourne has sage advice, often as not. Well done.

I've been blogging for going on five years now-an eternity in this day and age. It certainly seems like this is something of a dying art. I suppose in a couple of years this form of communication will go the way of the paper journals and diaries some of us might have kept as kids.

I really don't know how much more there is to write about here. I do know I've met a lot of good people on here from around this mudball, learned a lot, had some fun, shed a few tears, and argued until all hours of the morning when I should have been asleep. At times I don't think I've measured up to some of your standards, and at times I wonder why some of you who've travelled the world and seen and done all kinds of cool stuff are interested in the musings of a hick river rat from the deepest interior of the Land of the Free whose idea of a big night out is watching the local nine play baseball on a summer's evening.

The blog seems to have been replaced by social networking sites. And they're fine, but at times it's a lot of clatter. It can be like being at a party and trying to have a conversation with everyone in the room at the same time. To me, that's a bit wearing. And there isn't a lot of privacy unless direct messages are used.

Perhaps to our children, this type of communication will be the norm and us 'single-channel' types will be looked at like we're retarded. My generation is one of the last that grew up using a handwritten letter for communication. It seems-not right, in a way. There is something about a letter, or even e-mail (which I'm told is also going slowly obsolete), that is cool. Someone had to actually take time, sit down, and put thoughts on paper (or viewscreen). You were important enough, special enough, or pissed off someone enough for them to take time out of their lives to write to you. Sometimes 140 characters just doesn't cut it.

I honestly don't know how many posts are left in me. The well's kind of dry right at the moment. It depends a lot on how things go in the rest of my life. If I see some interesting things this summer, I'll do a write-up and pics-or maybe just throw a vid on YouTube and say 'To hell with it'. But blogging just doesn't feel like it did even two or three years ago. Reckon that's how life is, and the pace isn't going to slow down, barring a major catastrophe or everyone just saying 'Enough'.

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The past few weeks have been rather exhausting on a lot of fronts. With a bit of luck, some things have been cleared up and the rest have been whittled down to manageable. Time for some new stuff to crop up! I still feel a bit raw, though, and am going to endeavor to clear my mind and soul a bit.

A lot of you have been a great comfort, inspiration, and/or advisors to me over the past year or so: MickH, Doc, Bangar, BigBadAl, Moko, Ausgaz, Havock, Steve, Murph, NatV, Mayhem (wish I'd have gone to Australia to meet women before I'd settled down-two fine ladies there), Barnesy, Drej, Mr-Stu, and Savo. If you got left off, oops. Sorry about that, Chief!

If I could be anywhere right now for some R&R, it'd be at a resort I know of in the middle of Chequamagon National Forest in Wisconsin, on Teal Lake, northeast of Hayward, smack in the center of our Northwoods.

It'd be mid-summer. It's always fairly cool up in that part of the world, so it wouldn't be terribly hot or humid. This cabin would be the one I'd stay in. I'll be in the chair, cold one in hand, fishing rod propped up to catch an unwary bluegill or perch. The only sounds are the shussh of a low breeze in the trees and the gentle lap of the water against the shoreline. Eventually, I'll go out in the canoe for a row around the lake. No motorboats or jetskis up there to drown out the sounds of nature.

When the evening rolls around and the sun sets on the far shore of the lake, I'll start a fire in the pit. Might be I'd cook up the day's catch-more possibly cooking up a batch of burgers (since while the fishing might be good, the catching might be lousy) over the fabled bed of glowing coals that most camp cooks and grillers  dream about when the cooking area is either an inferno or a pile of wet, rained-out ashes. After dinner, I'll get the fire cranked back up-the kind of fire that people sit around and tell bullshit stories to each other, or cuddle up with their sweetest, or simply gaze at and relax in the majesty that is the outdoors. I'd best grab a sweatshirt since it cools off at night in those parts, even in summer. Across the lake, as the sky turns darkest orange in the west and the myriad stars appear in the encroaching darkness, I'll hear the loons calling their song of the primeval forest.



If the mosquitoes get bad (even Heaven must have a rough spot or two), I'll retreat to the screened-in porch, park my carcass on the porch swing, and relax with the last Leinenkugel of the evening.

If this sounds good to you, hey, there's always an extra Leinie in the icechest. Pull up a log, sit down, and grab some chow. All it'll cost you is a story at the campfire. Or I could always pack a deck of cards for a bit of poker. Y'all would be welcome there. Cheers!

yankeedog out.

What price honor?

These last few weeks have been a bit wearing. Been dealing with a lot of sick (physically ailing, that is) people. Last Friday one of the sick people had to get out of sickbay to deal with a sick elderly relative-things cascade on occasion. The silver lining is that I'm absorbing a lot of medical knowledge and am becoming something of a connoisseur of hospital emergency rooms, and one more trip should see me getting my medical degree by osmosis. Go ahead-ask me about using a butterfly needle for a phlebotomy or how to determine optimal blood oxygen or how to perform a laparascopic cholecystectomy.

Oy. I dunno. Hope things break a bit soon.

To be honest, I've got another issue weighing heavily on my tiny mind. Maybe some thoughts from the ladies and gentlemen of the jury would help. You've all got opinions-and we all know what opinions are like.

I've a person I know, who we shall call Subject L.

Before I go into detail about this, I'll readily admit that I'm better around things than people. And in many things I do try to walk in the other person's shoes a bit-it does help me to be calm, rational, and it does defuse most of the tensions that can crop up in any relationship. I also try to analyze all the possible results of any action before I do it. The Civil War general McClellan had nothing on me. However, it is possible to analyze any action to the point of not doing it.

I also have knowledge of my flaws and failings. Call them Legion, for they are many. I've never considered myself anyone special. I'm not Mr. Wonderful. On the other hand, I don't nail cats to trees or steal people's Social Security checks, either.

Well. Anyhow. Subject L, then.

I've known Subject L for a few years now. We've done a lot of communicating back and forth. I think in a moment of weakness I've grown to expect regular back-and-forth comms from Subject L, and it hasn't been there of late. It almost feels like the old familiar 'silent treatment'. I should hope not, because I feel like the only big crime I inflicted on Subject L is that of being a decent person.

One thing I do (and shouldn't, perhaps) is hold the people I know to a certain level of standards-the same standards I hold for myself when dealing with others. Those are in some ways high. For example, if someone I know asks me for something, I endeavor to do it as fast as possible. I expect others to do the same for me-and I suppose it's selfish to expect to be a priority to anyone.

Subject L has had a platter of life issues, and I suppose that enters the equation as well. How can I demand anything from someone with other priorities?

On the other hand, it feels like I have to 'crawl' when approaching Subject L. While as a rule I do try to be courteous of the precious time of other people, I don't want to 'crawl' any more-not when I did nothing wrong, or at least haven't been informed of any breaches of the armistice. No one should have to do that.

On the third hand, we can all cry about fairness or the lack of it. Put $1.60 with it and one can buy coffee. Or talk to the chaplain, who'll fill out a 'tough shit' slip.

Yes, I feel a lot of guilt as I deal with Subject L. Personal feelings and detritus from the past which I try to suppress. I always feel the need to be 'perfect' in my dealings with Subject L. It's just not possible to do.

I reckon the question to the class is this: What expectations should we have of people we know and/or hold dear to us?

After thinking this through, the options I'm coming up with are the following:

a) I have expected too much of Subject L and should back off. Lose.

b) Subject L has played a mind game with me. Possible, but to what effect? Another notch in the lipstick case? I have nothing personal, physical, or financial worth messing with. Lose.

c) I have offended Subject L in some way. But I don't know in what way, so it's hard to make amends. Lose.

d) My guilt and feelings, along with the stress of recent events, both for me and Subject L, are clouding my perception. Not necessarily a lose.

e) It's all in my head, I'm whinging like Englishmen are reported to do, and I need to harden the hell up. People come and people go. Deal with it. Probably the best endgame.

I don't enter into any kind of friendship or alliance lightly, nor do I break one lightly. I don't do casual acquaintances all that well.

Just not sure of things these days-much like many people across the land, I suppose. I do feel like the living embodiment to Leo Durocher's famous saying:

"Take a look at them. They're all nice guys, but they'll finish last. Nice guys. Finish last."

Dare I ask-your thoughts? Perhaps I'm Going Slightly Mad.




yankeedog out.

World War I in 1862?

Continuing the alt-hist theme from the last post.

The American Civil War seems to be a favorite what-if area for a lot of novelists, and I suppose for good reason. It was the first 'modern' war. When it started, the Union and the Confederacy fought in the line-up and charge that armies had used for the previous 100 or so years. By the end, both sides were developing the awful tactics and living conditions of trench warfare.

One side was fighting to maintain a strong federal union, the other for the rights of individual states to decide their own affairs. The Confederate States were a bit more 'decentralized' than the United States were. Although the institution of slavery was certainly a hot-button issue, it wasn't the primary reason by itself that the South seceded. No one has ever yet convinced me that slavery would have survived the introduction of mechanical cotton processing machinery-why always feed and care for a lot of people when you can invest in a machine that won't consume anything when not in use? To use the old line from The Godfather: "It isn't personal. It's just business." I don't think the plantation owners were a particularly evil bunch in that respect. But I digress.

One theme that alternate history authors commonly use is 'What if Britain had entered the Civil War on the Confederate side?' Robert Conroy uses this plot point in the novel 1862, as did Harry Harrison in the Stars and Stripes Trilogy (Not good. Harrison has written much better).

It sounds like a promising point. Britain was neutral but inclined toward the Confederate States. The CSA was counting on British textile mills needing Southern cotton. What Britain ended up doing was developing the Egyptian and Australian cotton industry instead, and selling arms to the CSA. Perhaps, had the Confederacy won at Gettysburg or Vicksburg or enough times on the way to the 1864 US presidential election-piling up enough wins to give the Union pause, kick Lincoln out of office, and put in someone to sue for peace with the CSA, then Britain may have stepped in with massive aid for the South.

I have a problem with the concept most authors cling to, though, that Britain would have had massive forces to send to fight the US on its home turf. Certainly the Royal Navy was sizable-but so was the US Navy. It was a pivotal time in naval warfare and shipbuilding, and both sides would have an odd assortment of sailing ships, steam vessels, armored ships, and ironclads. The US Navy would have been deployed in a defensive position along the coasts, while the Royal Navy had to protect the sealanes of the world and defend its far-flung possessions. The British would, of course, be able to concentrate a force to break through the US blockade of its own coast-but it would have to spread out its forces to prevent the US from raiding its commerce and colonies at the same time. Not as easy as it sounds.

The British Army has traditionally been a small force and even in the glory days of the Empire, was spread out over half the world. In many locations the British Army consisted of 'native' regiments led by British officers. Although the Army could use Canada as a base to attack the Union, it would have had to cross the Great Lakes-no transcontinental railroad in Canada to rapidly move troops-or base in Vancouver to attack the West Coast-likely San Francisco. I personally don't believe the British Army or Royal Marines could conquer the US, but they could have captured and raided some of the coastal cities. To think that the combined British-Confederate forces could have captured the whole of the US is to see those two armies swallowed up in the Allegheny and Sierra Nevada mountain ranges. North America is a vast place and an invading force could get swallowed up in the landmass. You could ask the Wehrmacht about getting swallowed up in a great open land, were it still around after getting used up in Russia.

Speaking of whom...

Most of the major European powers were watching events in North America in the 1860s. France was embroiled in its own adventure in Mexico at the time and would probably have preferred a friendly Confederacy on its northern border instead of the United States and the Monroe Doctrine (basically, Europe, stay the hell out of affairs in the Western Hemisphere that don't concern your colonies in the region), which is what actually happened. Russia was inclined toward the United States-Tsar Aleksandr II had liberated his own serfs in 1860-and sent warships to New York Harbor. Prussia and Austria were inclined toward the Union but probably not enough to bother going to war with Britain and France. While Britain of the 1860's had few men recognized as great generals or admirals, it did have some adept diplomats. They evidently knew enough to play the waiting game, not piss off any of the other powers, shake hands with the winner, and send condolences to the loser.

My thoughts, for what they're worth. I conclude that European aid to the Confederacy could have hurt the Union cause. British and French troops could have conducted amphibious assaults on places like San Francisco, Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. But if an author tells you that the British and French would land a force of 100,000 men to capture the US in the Civil War, here's what I'd do to defeat that plot:

-Move the national capital to Pittsburgh.
-Let the invading army drive past a hollow screen of forces and draw them into the Appalachians and Alleghenies.
-Turn Grant or whoever is competent loose to grind the invading force into dirt and block the passes where practical. I'll have interior position so I can shuttle troops back and forth where needed-no air power to bomb the rail net. Plus I have the whole of the continent to retreat into.
-Make nice with the Russians, Prussians, and Austrians. See who'll ally with us and open a second front in Europe.

The 'what-if' of European intervention in the Civil War probably makes for good reading for an afternoon-though I prefer The Guns of the South, where white-supremacist South Africans travel back in time and introduce the AK-47 to the Confederate Army. But when you dig deeper into the politics of the era, events probably played out 'correctly'. I think Britain probably had everything thought out about the same as I do and said "Ahh, President Davis. Look, you're going to have to show us a bit more staying power. But we do have a warehouse of Enfield rifles for you, if you can get a way to get them to your homeland yourself. Just send us gold. Your money's no good here."

yankeedog out.

Into the Inferno

While on assignment deep in the heart of Hoosier country, I managed to read Robert Conroy's Red Inferno:1945. Conroy is an alternate history writer, with the books 1901, 1862, 1942, and 1945 under his belt.

Red Inferno:1945 explores what might have happened had Stalin decided to keep pushing into Western Europe after largely winning the Battle of Berlin in 1945, taking on the Western Allies. Actually, on our side, General Patton had suggested continuing to push eastward and rolling the Soviets back to Moscow, so I'd guess some bright fellow in the Soviet High Command had drawn up some manuever to do exactly what is described in this book.

Red Inferno reads a lot like Cornelius Ryan's epic work on the Battle of Berlin, The Last Battle, mixed with Tom Clancy's Red Storm Rising.

How is the book? OK to good, at least for a time-killer. I found the political aspects of the book fairly well thought out. The military part-fair to middlin'. The two armies slug at each other over most of Germany over the summer of 1945. As the Western Allies still had massive militaries at the time, it isn't quite the 'Soviet forces overrun the NATO tripwire' scenario so popular in Cold War-era novels.

The characters aren't what I'd call terribly fleshed out-actually closer to stereotypical to possibly cardboard. A fairly typical lot: an intelligence officer who reminds me of a WWII version of Clancy's Jack Ryan, the American soldiers straight out of Band of Brothers, a Soviet officer who risks his life to warn the Allies, and is treated...accordingly, and a couple of unremarkable but not unlikeable female love interests for our protagonists.

Finally, unlike Harry Turtledove, Robert Conroy appears to be able to tell a story in one book without pages and pages of needless repitition. Might want to get back to that, Harry...

I'd say if you have time to kill, pick up Red Inferno: 1945. Our own John Birmingham gave Conroy's 1942 a thumbs-up, so maybe I'll check it out next. Hmm. A story about Hawaii overrun by the Japanese after Pearl Harbor. When I was in Hawaii, it WAS overrun by the Japanese. I don't get what the big deal is.

Anyway, try checking out Conroy's books if you're into the whole alt-hist genre. Not bad.

yankeedog out.

Hoosier Daddy

Off on a secret mission this weekend deep into the midst of the state of Indiana. Indianapolis, specifically. The Crossroads of America, or as we like to refer to it, Indianoplace. Too early for anything worthwhile to see to be open. It's before baseball season. We're there a week too early for the NCAA Final Four, which is OK since I have no tickets for said event. Hurrah.

Cheers all. Enjoy your weekend-or if you've had five good weekends in a row and are ready by God for a crappy weekend, go for it.

yankeedog out.

A little 'Gator Navy

I've decided to go back to my milgeek roots. I've tried to do clever and funny, but being neither, I might as well go back to what I know.

I read recently of the possible imminent sinking of the USS LSM-45. The term 'LSM' stands for 'Landing Ship Medium'. The LSM was an oceangoing vessel, unlike the smaller LCT (Landing Craft Tank), but smaller than the LST (Landing Ship Tank). The typical Landing Ship Medium could haul a 4-tank platoon, their crews, and their gear on short ocean hops at a breathtaking 13.5 knots full out.

The LSM-45 served mostly in the Pacific during World War II. After the war, she was laid up in reserve, then transferred to the Greek Navy in the late 1950's. By the 1990's, the ship was getting long in the tooth. A group of LSM veterans raised the funds to have the ship towed back to the United States for restoration to a museum ship. This trek was not unlike the experiences of the return voyage of LST-325 from Greece. By 1998, the ship was moored on the Missouri River at Freedom Park in Omaha (home of minesweeper USS Hazard and submarine USS Marlin) and restoration work commenced.

I saw and toured the LSM-45 in 1999. At the time she was about half restored and in pretty decent shape.  I thought that the ship was something of a marvel in that there was some exteremely ingenious use of space. A lot of the ship's work spaces were located on either side of the vehicle deck as shown in the pictures above and below:

I found it amazing how complete the facilities on board were. 4 officers and 54 enlisted called the LSM 'home', along with temporary accomodations for 40-50 troops. The crew and troop accomodations were under the vehicle deck on the hold deck, and I can't help but think those guys would have baked down there.

Armament for the basic LSM consisted of a 40 mm gun and 4 single 20 mm-good for light anti-aircraft work. Some of the class were modified to fire 5 in (127 mm) barrage rockets. These vessels were used for shore bombardment.

Making a long story long, in the early 2000s, the LSM-45 was moved to the Museum of the Marine in North Carolina. The ship was planned to be part of a major expansion of the museum and waterfront.

By the end of the decade, the expansion plans fizzled out and the LSM-45 has been left to rust. By 2009, the plan was to remove the mast and superstructure and scuttle the hull as an artificial reef. It would appear to be something of an ignominious end for this old vet, and a tremendous waste of time, energy, and planning over a 20-year period.

I think a lot of groups don't realize the expense required to keep up a museum ship. On paper, it sounds like a winning deal: Find the ship, clean and paint, add a souvenir stand, and voila, instant tourist attraction! There's actually a lot of mechanical upkeep involved. Ships always need chipping and painting. The bilge pumps have to kept running. A trip to a drydock is necessary every so often for getting rid of barnacles and checking for damage to the hull plates. A tour route has to be figured out and made reasonably safe and accessible for a majority of visitors. Air conditioning may be desired for visitor comfort, and most ships built during WWII don't have a ventilation system designed for A/C. Volunteers and staff are required. Stuff that at one time could be requistioned by the Navy is long unavailable. The list goes on and on. And the available pool of people who have knowledge of the systems on board an LSM are dwindling. Unlike the LST's, which were used into the Vietnam era, the LSM's were discarded after WWII. That means most of the LSM sailors are in their upper 80s and not probably up to the rigors of financing and running a museum vessel. The LST can draw on Vietnam vets for knowledge.

I also wonder why the Navy and Marine Corps don't have a proper museum for the Amphibious Force. They have been used in all of our major combat operations since WWII and are a vital part of today's armed forces. LSM-45 belongs in a decent display-perhaps on a simulated stretch of beach, unloading vehicles. This won't be its likely end. A shame. But I'm glad I got to see her when I did. 

A similar saga played out with the USS Cabot (CVL-28), which was a light carrier. This ship was built on a cruiser hull and filled the gap between the big fleet carriers and the numerous tiny escort carriers built on merchant ship hulls.

The Cabot served in World War II and was transferred to the Spanish Navy in the 1950s. Spain operated her as the carrier Dedalo into the 1990s (with a complement of Harriers and Huey helicopters), when their own design, the Principe de Asturias, entered service.

The ship was towed back to the States with big plans to make her a museum ship. But taking care of a ship a size of an aircraft carrier is an even more expensive proposition than a relatively small and simple landing ship. Mismanagement and lack of funds caused the ship to be seized and sold for scrapping:

So ends the career of the Cabot. Can't save them all, I guess. But I wish I could have seen her when she was afloat.

I've been on a fair portion of the museum ships in this country, and I appreciate the history of these vessels and the crews who sailed in them. The stories the ships and sailors could tell...

One thing that is depressing about touring these beasts is that it shows how far the US has sunk as an industrial nation. Everything on those ships was built here-the engines, the armor, the heavy guns, the electronics-you name it, it was designed and built here in America. We couldn't build a battleship here now if our nation's survival depended on it. We don't have the facilities to do things like turn a heavy gun barrel or roll heavy armor plate. Maybe our survival here doesn't depend on the ability to build armored capital ships, but oh, the people they employed. Everyone that wanted to could work, and be proud of a quality product at the end of the day. I'm not sure we'll survive as a nation selling hamburgers to one another. A major power still has to have the ability to build stuff, not buy it from overseas.

While the song is old and a bit trite, I suppose-Billy Joel's hit from 1982, Allentown, seems to fit, where he laments the massive losses in basic industry and the opportunities those industries provided for workers of all kinds-from the guy on the shop floor to the maintenance crew to the draftsman to middle management. An Englishman could probably substitute 'Sheffield' for Allentown and an Australian substitute 'Newcastle' for that steel town in the Alleghenies.

Oh yes, finally. I do like 'baby boomer' rock, much maligned in some circles. I also like old country music. If I embed a piece that offends you, here's what you do: Talk to the regimental chaplain. He'll help you fill out a 'Tough Shit' slip like what's shown below.

[_]

Write legibly in the box and send it back.

Cheers.

yankeedog out.