WOW..... THANK YOU very much for the post snippy_about_it and for all the supporters out there!! I can't even begin to say what all this support and encouragement means to us out here!
It's just after 0800 here, so that's why I'm a little late :)
Tonk: Great job on the Canteen! It's a great place to visit when I get a break throughout the day. (Too bad spell-check isn't availible when you post :)
Kathy in Alaska: I'll pass on the show shoveling! I did 1 year in Brunswick Maine and I saw more snow than I care to remember! After my first winter there, I was on the phone to my detailer saying I wanted out of here!
Tomkow: That's a great logo!! I'll save that one and make it my wallpaper!
Here's a story I got from a fellow Chief the other day:
Subject: Sports Illustrated goes flying in a F-14
>(This guy writes for Sports Illustrated)
> >On a Wing and a Prayer, by Rick Reilly
> >Now this message is for America's most famous athletes: Someday you may be >invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful >fighter jets. Many of you already have --John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger >Woods to name a few.
> >If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest >sincerity.... Move to Guam. Change your name. Fake your own death. >Whatever you do, do not go. I know.
The US Navy invited me to try it. I >was thrilled. I was pumped. > >I was toast!
I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip >(Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia >Beach. >
>Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple >it. >
>He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling >handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his >leisure time.
If you see this man, run the other way. Fast. Biff King was >born to fly. >
>His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus >15 seconds and counting...." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids >a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps >surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff." >
>Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million >weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. >
>I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked >Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning. "Bananas," he >said. "For the potassium?" I asked. "No," Biff said, "because they taste >about the same coming up as they do going down." >
>The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name >sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or >Leadfoot --but, still, very cool.) >
>I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed.
If ever >in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, that was it.
A fighter >pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my >ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at >such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious. >
>Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, >and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. >
>In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then >canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life.
>Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster >at Six Flags Over Texas, only without rails. >
>We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and >dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. >
>We chased another F-14, and it chased us. We broke the speed of sound.
Sea >was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 >mph, creating a G-force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my >body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. >Colin Montgomerie. >
>And I egressed the bananas. I egressed the pizza from the night before. >And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth >grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. >
>Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be >egressed. >
>I went through not one airsick bag, but two. Biff said I passed out. >Twice. I was coated in sweat. >
>At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock >bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in >and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to >throw down. >
>I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman >making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. >
>Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and Freon nerves. I >wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff >does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home >stand. >
>A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and >the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch >for my flight suit. What is it? I asked.
>"Two Bags." >
>Don't you dare tell Nicole.
Thanks again for the tribute.... now I'm off to a meeting but I'll check in again through the rest of the day!
Well that figures. While I am writing your excuse for not showing up, you post! LOL.
Now I have to go read it. Be right back.
Nevermind my previous post. He showed up!
Brian, your mother was here this morning, you didn't tell me she was a freeper too! Around post 60-65 I believe.
See Brian's post 172.
Brian - thanks for your service. Sheila - thank you for you and your husband's service, and for sharing your values with your son.
My Dad (BethBG79's Papa) survived the Battle of Tawara in spite of all odds, and went on to achieve the all-American dream - success in business, a loving family, a long life surrounded by friends and loved ones.
Why he made it when so many of his fellow Marines did not is a question which plaqued him throughout his lifetime.
Beth...that gentle voiced, wonderful grandfather you loved so much had a backbone of steel forged in a surrealistic, bloody hell. He was YOUR age in 1943. Think about that for a moment.
Your Papa experienced hell on earth and survived, no, TRIUMPHED over evil because he and his fellow Americans refused to give up.
The determination of America's fighting forces to fight for that in which they believe, at Tarawa and through every battle before and since is why America is the greatest country in the world, and why you are able to live in freedom. NEVER FORGET!!
To all who serve, know that you have my everlasting gratitude, and that you are all in my prayers.
As an aside, my son worshipped his Papa, as did all of the grandchildren. He wanted to join the Marines "just like you did, Papa." Dad encouraged him to join the Navy, instead.
Here are a few images from that battle in 1943:
Thank you for dropping by and thank you for your service!!! Please, kindly extend my THANK YOU also to everyone on the USS Tarawa for their service to our country and let them know that we are praying for them everyday. We are so very proud of all of you and know that we will always be here to support you. Godspeed!