Posted on 04/25/2002 1:08:17 AM PDT by Snow Bunny
I am the American Sailor
Hear my voice, America! Though I speak through the mist of 200 years, my shout for freedom will echo through liberty's halls for many centuries to come. Hear me speak, for my words are of truth and justice, and the rights of man. For those ideals I have spilled my blood upon the world's troubled waters. Listen well, for my time is eternal - yours is but a moment.
I am the spirit of heroes past and future. I am the American Sailor. I was born upon the icy shores at Plymouth, rocked upon the waves of the Atlantic, and nursed in the wilderness of Virginia. I cut my teeth on New England codfish, and I was clothed in southern cotton. I built muscle at the halyards of New Bedford whalers, and I gained my sea legs high atop mizzen of Yankee clipper ships.
Yes, I am the American Sailor, one of the greatest seamen the world has ever known. The sea is my home and my words are tempered by the sound of paddle wheels on the Mississippi and the song of whales off Greenland's barren shore. My eyes have grown dim from the glare of sunshine on blue water, and my heart is full of star-strewn nights under the Southern Cross.
My hands are raw from winter storms while sailing down round the Horn, and they are blistered from the heat of cannon broadside while defending our nation. I am the American Sailor, and I have seen the sunset of a thousand distant, lonely lands. I am the American Sailor. It was I who stood tall beside John Paul Jones as he shouted, "I have not yet begun to fight!" I fought upon the Lake Erie with Perry, and I rode with Stephen Decatur into Tripoli harbor to burn Philadelphia.
I met Guerriere aboard Constitution, and I was lashed to the mast with Admiral Farragut at Mobile Bay. I have heard the clang of Confederate shot against the sides of Monitor. I have suffered the cold with Peary at the North Pole, and I responded when Dewey said, "You may fire when ready Gridley," at Manila Bay. It was I who transported supplies through submarine infested waters when our soldier's were called "over there." I was there as Admiral Byrd crossed the South Pole. It was I who went down with the Arizona at Pearl Harbor, who supported our troops at Inchon, and patrolled dark deadly waters of the Mekong Delta.
I am the American Sailor and I wear many faces. I am a pilot soaring across God's blue canopy and I am a Seabee atop a dusty bulldozer in the South Pacific. I am a corpsman nursing the wounded in the jungle, and I am a torpedoman in the Nautilus deep beneath the North Pole. I am hard and I am strong.
But it was my eyes that filled with tears when my brother went down with the Thresher, and it was my heart that rejoiced when Commander Shepherd rocketed into orbit above the earth. It was I who languished in a Viet Cong prison camp, and it was I who walked upon the moon. It was I who saved the Stark and the Samuel B. Roberts in the mine infested waters of the Persian Gulf. It was I who pulled my brothers from the smoke filled compartments of the Bonefish and wept when my shipmates died on the Iowa and White Plains. When called again, I was there, on the tip of the spear for Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm.
I am the American Sailor. I am woman, I am man, I am white and black, yellow, red and brown. I am Jew, Muslim, Christian and Buddhist. I am Irish, Filipino, African, French, Chinese, and Indian. And my standard is the outstretched hand of Liberty. Today, I serve around the world, on land, in air, on and under the sea. I serve proudly, at peace once again, but with the fervent prayer that I need not be called again.
Tell your children of me. Tell them of my sacrifice, and how my spirit soars above their country. I have spread the mantle of my nation over the ocean and I will guard her forever. I am her heritage and yours.
Author unknown. In Loving Memory CDR. Clyde D. Killion, USN YO1 L. H. Nash, USN |
No walk-up visitors will be allowed this year on the Rose Festival fleet for what is thought to be the first time and the fleet will be the smallest in recent memory.
Pentagon security decisions during the ongoing U.S. war against terrorism dictate that the nine-ship fleet that arrives June 5 and 6 will not be allowed to take fans and curious Portlanders aboard for guided tours.
"This is obviously the result of the attacks of 9/11," said Lt. Cmdr. Charles Flynn, executive officer of the U.S. Navy's reserve center on Swan Island. "It's not just for these ships on this trip, it's for military installations around the world.
"For the ships to come here, this is the way we have to do business."
A 14-ship fleet at Tom McCall Waterfront Park drew 22,500 visitors in 2001.
Tours this year are not out altogether. Small, controlled groups -- such as Scouts -- will be able to board, but they have to sign up through the Navy and Marine Corps Reserve Center on Swan Island.
Private boaters who like to gawk at the ships up close from the Willamette River also will be restricted by Coast Guard patrols.
The sailors still will be going on liberty; the popular Host-A-Sailor program, in which the public can take care of a sailor for a day, will continue.
All the outreach programs -- such as the sailors' visit to the Shiners Hospitals for Children -- will also be in place.
"I think the city understands the situation," said Marilyn Clint, associate executive director of the Rose Festival Association. "We've all rallied around the fact that life has changed since 9/11."
Still, festival organizers, the Navy and the Coast Guard want citizens to be able to pay their respects to the stretched-out military. Thus, a "tribute wall."
The wall will be at the waterfront where, Clint said, "the people of Portland can come down and show their support by tying a ribbon, leave a message or a picture or leave their thoughts for all to see."
The ships will do their part by setting up displays and souvenir vendors in front of the boats, Flynn said.
The list of ships is still tentative, but it's likely to be the smallest since the Vietnam War. Capt. Paul Anderson, commander of the Swan Island reserve unit, recalls that during one year of the war, only two ships arrived. And one year during World War II, there was no fleet at all.
It is at least the smallest fleet since 1973, according to records. The smallest since then was 1988, when just 12 ships arrived. The highest was in 1990, before the Persian Gulf War, when the festival crammed 28 ships up against the river wall.
The nine-ship group includes a few veterans of the Rose Festival Fleet and a Coast Guard original, but it won't have any of the greyhound-speed Arleigh Burke class destroyers that have become a staple of the Rose Festival flotilla. There is one front-line, high-tech war wagon: the USS Valley Forge, a Ticonderoga-class Aegis cruiser which will be making its fourth festival appearance. The Navy also will send the Spruance-class destroyer USS Paul F. Foster, which will be in Portland for the third time; the frigate USS Ford, which was in Portland last in 1983; and the USS Frederick, a tank-landing ship designed to deliver rolling stock -- tanks, armored vehicles and trucks -- to beachheads. The Coast Guard has sent several Hamilton-class high-endurance cutters, its biggest non-icebreaker, to Portland during the years. But this year the Hamilton is scheduled to come. The little Bluebell also will sail up from Swan Island for the activities. Canada could only spare one boat, the coastal patrol vessel HMCS Brandon. The two Army Corps of Engineers dredges, the Essayons and the Yaquina, also are scheduled to participate.
SAM, it was wonderful! And I love the bear in the bunny slippers. So cute! Thanks, FRiend. :-)
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Me too. Thank you so much for posting that. Just thinking about remembering the times I have heard it sung, gives me goosebumps. I get so emotional over things like this.
He took with him his life-long pet parrot. The first morning at 0430, the parrot squawked loudly and said, "Reveille, Reveille. Up all hands, Heave out, trice up! The smoking lamp is lit, now Reveille!
The old chief told the parrot, We are no longer in the Navy. Go back to sleep.
The next morning, the parrot did the same thing.
Chief told the parrot, "If you keep this up, I'll put your &*# out in the chicken pen."
Again the parrot did it, and true to his word, the Chief put the parrot in the chicken pen.
About 0630 the next morning, the Chief was awakened by one heck of a ruckus in the chicken pen. He went out to see what was the matter.
The parrot had about 40 white chickens at attention -- in formation. On the ground lay three bruised and beaten brown chickens. The parrot was saying, "By God, when I say fall out in dress whites, I don't mean khakis!"
How about a nice Iowa Chop on a Stick for lunch?
U.S. Marine soldiers carry marker pegs as the survey a dirt road leading to the 103rd Army Brigade in Tabiawan village on Basilan island, southern Philippines on Thursday April 25, 2002. U.S. Marine engineers and Navy Seabees are now deployed at different project sites around Basilan as they prepare to build roads, helicopter landing pads, dig wells and prepare an airstrip to enhance a counter-terrorism campaign aimed at helping local troops wipe out the Muslim extremist group, Abu Sayyaf. (AP Photo/Aaron Favila)
U.S. Navy Seabees EA1 Wilson, left, from Pennsylvania measures a dirt road leading to the 103rd Army Brigade in Tabiawan village on Basilan island, southern Philippines on Thursday April 25, 2002. U.S. Marine engineers and Navy Seabees are now deployed at different project sites around Basilan as they prepare to build roads, helicopter landing pads, dig wells and prepare an airstrip to enhance a counter-terrorism campaign aimed at helping local troops wipe out the Muslim extremist group, Abu Sayyaf. (AP Photo/Aaron Favila)
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