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To: SAMWolf; The Mayor
Mornin' SAM. I need a cup of the mayor's hot coffee after reading this chilling account.

On one of our WESTPAC cruises we took the 'northern circle route' passing within 50 miles of the Aleutians. Cold, wet and windy conditions as I recall.
17 posted on 12/09/2003 7:28:18 AM PST by Diver Dave
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To: Diver Dave
Morning DD.

I know what you mean, I sort of feel guilty about the times I complained about it being cold.
33 posted on 12/09/2003 9:01:26 AM PST by SAMWolf (On the other hand, you have different fingers.)
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To: Diver Dave
Good to see you "fall in" Diver Dave.
51 posted on 12/09/2003 9:25:49 AM PST by snippy_about_it (Fall in --> The FReeper Foxhole. America's History. America's Soul.)
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To: Diver Dave; SAMWolf; snippy_about_it; PhilDragoo
Excerpt from the book... DD-522 Diary of a destroyer.

Bert Alton Jr,Radio technician second class found himself assigned to destroyer tender USS Markab and was not enjoying life in the Aluetians.
"As i leaned on the Markabs railing,staring out pondered my fate and saw a beautiful sight: Two destroyers,obviously brand new,handsome in gray and black camouflage,were steaming into Adak Harbor

I ran down to the repair shop in search of the LTJG.
Mr Parker ,there are 2 destroyers out there and I want to be on one of them.
The officer stared at me ,then said which do you want ,I have been agonizing to find a fair way to select 2 people out of our ten for transfer.
He must have had that perception that to send a soul from the luxurious and comfortable Markab to a dangerous destroyer.

I chose USS Luce and reported in,only to discover the ship was full and their wasn't one bunk available.
I wound up slinging a hammock in a passageway and brooding, hopefully things would get better.

I tried to sleep that night realizing this wasn't the environment I had expected , had I made the mistake of my life.
Then something unexpected happened, a few feet up the passageway a brawny screaming sailor was being wrestled by the master at arms and some crew to the brig adjacent to my hammock.
The man was a raging bull,clubs ,fists ,elbows were flying in the melee moving my direction.
They herded the guy into the brig where he subsided into a druken stupor.

What in the world is going on I said,
They explained that he was a cook ,called Beaver,He'd gotten crazy drunk on torpedo fuel and fruit,had somehow located a 45.cal automatic pistol and began shooting wildly at imagined enemies in the ships galley.
They waited till they were certain he had emptied the clip before rushing him.

What kind of hell ship was I on?
The rest of the crew thought this to be pure entertainment.

The next day Beaver was transfered in chains ,to the beach awaiting courtmartial.
Good ol Beaver, I inherited his bunk! : )

55 posted on 12/09/2003 11:42:10 AM PST by Light Speed
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