Roger Maveus ET2, 1956-59

Roger sent theese excerpts from a book that he wrote years ago for his family, with a few pictures. Roger said, "I have not shared this with other than family and close friends but you may share it with other shipmates if you wish,"
Best wishes,
Roger Maveus

Chapter 2

Join the Navy…….

"Join the Navy and see the world." That's what the ads said. One could also get training and experience in all types of vocations if he qualified. I was getting restless and bored since my buddy, Bill, had joined the Marines last year. I was 1A for the draft and no doubt would soon be drafted. All able-bodied young men were required to serve in the U.S. military in those years. Maybe I should join the U.S. Air Force; it was a relatively new branch of service and it seemed to offer opportunity and an easier life than the U.S. Army. According to Bill, Marine training and duty was tough, regimented and "gung-ho," even more than the Army. If I waited to be drafted, I would not have much of a choice. So I considered a compromise, the U.S. Navy. I was always fascinated with the large ships that I saw on the TV program "Victory at Sea" and other naval epics, and the Navy did offer some good training as well as travel opportunities. So I began to check it out. The recruiter told me that if I could pass the required tests, I could have a career in the new field of electronics. In high school I had taken some basic electricity courses and one time I had built a crystal radio kit at home. I also had repaired some simple electrical devises that my great uncle Willard had picked up on his rubbish route as discards. That was it. I decided that it would be a sailor's life for me. Little did I realize what was in store!

On November 18, 1955, just three days after my nineteenth birthday, I signed away my freedom to the U.S. Navy. Shortly thereafter, in early December, I said good-by to my family, boarded a bus headed for somewhere in Chicago, destination and future unknown. I was a lone, timid, scared, confused, and quite apprehensive young man, leaving home for the first time. After arriving at the induction center in Chicago, I was subjected to a batch of physical examinations. Talk about humiliation! I think they examined every part of my body including areas that no one had touched since I was in diapers. And believe me, it wasn't in private either. I was just one of an open crowd of other naked military inductees, many older draftees. I won't tell you all the embarrassing details, but you can use your own imagination. After I was considered physically fit for service, I was "sworn in" to defend the United States of America and officially became a part of the U.S. Navy.

Next, I was given a battery of qualifying mental tests. I was pleased to find these tests to be fairly easy, especially those about geometric designs. To my surprise, I received a perfect score, a rare accomplishment according to the local newspaper article that was written up about it. You can see a copy of that article in Picture 2. I guess that assured the electronics training I had been promised. In fact, that one test may have helped change my whole future. It had an effect on my immediate future as well. When the induction process was completed, I was put in charge of a group of naval inductees, all bigger and older. Many were college-graduated draftees who were given a choice of the Navy or the Army. My orders were to get these 15 or so men to Great Lakes Naval Training Center, which was between Chicago and Milwaukee. Frankly, I had no idea where that was or how to get there, but I was reminded that it was my responsibility to see that every man got there safely. Man was I scared! I could just see us getting lost or someone going AWOL en route. To my relief, I found out that the elevated train ran from the Induction Center right past the front gate of the Training Center. I asked the conductor to let me know when we were supposed to get off, which he graciously did. I think he sensed my anxiety. Actually, I think I had someone above helping me even though I was too rattled to think of praying. I guess God knew my concern and helplessness.

Well, we made it! Thank God we made it, timid me and my reluctant, unorganized crew of soon-to-be seamen. As we approached the sentry-guarded gate to the fenced and secured naval base, I felt like a convict must feel being sent off to prison for four years. "What had I done with my life?" I questioned. Maybe I hadn't prayed or listened enough; maybe I was too impatient. I truly had second thoughts, but there was no turning back now! I had taken an oath to defend my country, and a real Christian would never go back on his word. Besides that, to abandon my commitment now would be criminal. I was "stuck."

I presented our orders to the guard at the gate who immediately summoned a petty officer to escort us to the next place. I don't remember the exact sequence of events [it was over 50 years ago] but each following event seemed intimidating and humiliating. First, we were stripped of all our personal belongings including our clothes, which were sent back home. Like other recruits, my long wavy hair was quickly removed by a sadistic barber. I remember one barber asking a recruit if he wanted to keep his hair long in the back. When he responded "Yes, please," the barber left a patch about one inch in diameter hanging off the back of his otherwise bald head; everyone laughed at him. After we were "scalped" we were herded into disinfectant showers, all the while being shouted at. Needless to say it was unnerving. I had never been subjected to such rude and demeaning treatment in my whole life. I suppose the whole purpose was to remove any personal pride, resistance, and independent thinking. A military man must be submissive, obedient and unquestioning to the orders of his superiors. This treatment also acted as a necessary equalizer, quite important to my group of somewhat arrogant and privileged college grads. We were now all peers, one might say "in the same naval boat." If I had understood some of this in advance, it could have been a lot more tolerable and less frightening to me. Who could have guessed?

Actually this was just the beginning of the indoctrination process. We were poked with needles, blood drawn, shots of vaccination given, teeth examined and repaired, and you name it. Finally, we were determined to be healthy enough for "boot camp" training. Next we were outfitted with our "government issue" military clothes. White tee shirts, white boxer shorts, black socks, dungaree shirts and pants, a brass-buckled belt, black smooth-toed shoes, spats or leggings, a heavy wool P-coat, a "watch cap" and a sailors "Dixie cup" hat made us all look like official sailors. Aside from our varying sizes, the only distinguishable difference to the Navy was our unique serial number. My number was 479 60 22. I was no longer Roddy, Rod, or Roger, I was MAVEUS. This was indelibly imprinted on all my clothes as well as in my mind. Finally, our group was assembled and we were marched off to our barracks, our new home. It must have been funny to see the disorderly array of heads, arms and legs all swaying completely out of cadence. Having learned to march in step when I was in the high school band, this was not a problem for me, but it sure was for others. By-standing sailors all laughed, jeered and called us "skin heads." I'm sure that they must have endured it a few weeks previously.

When we arrived at our barracks, we were each assigned a bunk and a small padlocked locker for our personal things. The bunks were two high, each with a mattress about 2 inches thick and 3 feet wide. Both the pillow and mattress had a similar, washable case surrounding them. You will laugh when I tell you that the mattress cover was called a "fart sack," but that was the accepted name! Each bunk also had one, dark gray wool blanket that we kept folded at the foot of the bunk except when in use. Upon inspection, the sheets had to be so wrinkle-free and taut that a quarter would bounce when thrown on it. We were also taught how to roll up our clothes and neatly stow them in our locker so that they were fairly wrinkle free.

Later we were issued some blue working uniforms and some dress blues and whites, with a black silk scarf for a tie. Often we kept these pressed by placing them under our mattresses. We also had to learn how to "spit-shine" our shoes so we could see our own reflection in order to pass inspection. In the barracks, adjacent to the sleeping quarters were three other rooms. One was the "head" or latrine or toilets and showers. We all got a chance to clean them! Another room was equipped with long, waist high, galvanized sinks, with multiple faucets for personal hygiene and clothes washing. With many men living in close quarters, cleanliness was essential. Included in our government issue was a simple personal care kit that included a safety razor, toothbrush and paste, a bar of soap, a scrub brush and "clothes stops," 6 inch pieces of small rope. Every few days we alternately took turns scrubbing our clothes by hand with the brush and soap, rinsing and wringing them out by hand, and then tying the clothes up on a line to dry, with the clothes stops in the drying room. No washing machines here!

We also all took our turns "on watch" guarding the barrack entrances, the latrine, and the washing and drying rooms. I don't know what we were guarding against. Maybe it was to prevent theft, but I think it was really just to get us used to guard duty, which is continuous in the military. Well, I am getting ahead of my story.

In the evening we were all marched to the "chow hall" for supper. There must have been about 80 men in my company, but hundreds arriving at the mess hall for supper. Of course, we had to stand in line and were served on a divided metal tray, cafeteria style. They served us what they decided, not what we wanted, and we had to eat everything served. No finicky eaters tolerated here! Later I learned a lesson about that the hard way. Once, when I was leaving the chow hall, I picked up a piece of discarded, fatty meat that someone had left on the table. I was just being nice, but when I arrived at the trash can to dispose of my waste paper and utensils I was stopped. I was told "Sailor, we don't waste food here!" I tried to explain, but that just made matters worse. I was forced to eat that whole disgusting piece of yuck before I could leave. So much for being a nice guy; I wouldn't do that again!

Well, as you can see, it was a very busy day. We were marched back to our barracks again for the evening. Then, we were given orders to write a letter home and say that we arrived safely and were doing fine. HA! We also had a little free time to get acquainted with some other poor unfortunates before "taps" and "lights out." Reveille would come quite early the next morning, and as far as I was concerned that was quite enough for one day, anyway.

Did I say reveille? I was expecting a bugle or boatswain's whistle, not someone shouting insults and banging loudly on a trash can. It was effective and I think we were all on our feet before our eyes were even We all rushed to the sinks to wash, shave and get ready for the day's activities. 'No time for a shower this morning. We barely had enough time to get dressed and our "sacks" made up before inspection. Our first inspection was quite an experience; I don't think anyone passed. Our sheets were too loose, the blankets were not regulation folded, the pillows were not properly fluffed and positioned, our lockers were in disarray, and worst of all our hats were not properly positioned on our heads, two fingers above our eyebrows. Well, how were we supposed to know all that, I wondered. I think they were using the psychological approach that one learns best from his mistakes. And learn we did; some learned by doing lots of push-ups.

After marching to and from breakfast, our company commander, a chief petty officer, selected some recruit leaders and organized us into assigned positions in a marching formation.His selection of leaders was not based on real leadership abilities but on brute size and loudness of voice. One man, who had previously attended a boot camp and was wise to this, yelled real loudly, and was chosen. However, it only took a week or two to realize that some of these guys were dumb jerks and they were soon replaced. Each of us was issued an inoperative gun to march with and learn "the manual of arms" exercises. We did a lot of drill marching on the asphalt "grinder" behind our barracks. It was December and often cold. Several times it snowed and we had to shovel lots of snow by hand to clear the grinder. Error was sharply disciplined by push-ups, gun exercises, or extra duty. Several of the men got into fights or other troubles and were severely punished. I saw one man gun exercised to the point where he could barely raise his gun above his head. It fell cutting his face all bloody. Others were marched in the cold until they dropped, exhausted. I heard that there was an investigation into the death of one recruit who was marched to death. He was in another company. Discipline is one thing; abuse is another!

Our days were occupied with drill marching on the grinder or in the large drill hall and with the study of naval history, procedures, and regulations. In the drill hall we were ordered to "dig in our heels" when marching and then later we were required, while on our knees, to scrub off all the black marks made by those heels on the wooden floors. It was probably equivalent to the army digging holes and then filling them in again. On the drill floor was painted the shapes of a destroyer vessel. Here we practiced various shipboard drills. We also all had to learn to swim, tread water, and practice abandon ship procedures. I was already a good swimmer and diver so I had no problem here, but not so with everyone. Some had to be pushed off the high platform. Luckily no one drowned, at least as far as I knew.

As we became more proficient in our training, we moved on to more difficult things. I remember being shut up in a small building with tear gas being discharged inside. Of course we had gas masks on, but we were required to remove them just before the end so we could get an idea of how bad that could be. We also were taught about chemical and nerve gas affects and reactions. Learning how to fight fires aboard a ship was essential training for all sailors. A fire aboard ship usually produces extremely hot, oil fired, acrid smoke and disaster. I remember well that training in smoky closed quarters and open tanks of fuel oil using water and foam. Then there was rifle training. Sailors often have to go ashore and it was necessary to know how to use a gun. That was also easy for me because I had hunted since I was a kid; I did well.

Basic training [boot camp] was only six weeks long, but it seemed like an eternity. I guess that proves the reciprocal of the old adage that "time flies when you are having fun." We had learned to march as a unit, had passed our training written exams and other tests, and were now "squared away" recruits. Finally, the day came when we were considered prepared for duty. We dressed in our finest dress blues, spit-shined our shoes, polished our brass belt buckles, rolled and tied our scarves around our necks, and prepared for final inspection and marching review. Believe me, I was never so glad to complete anything in my entire life! But, by the grace of God, I had made it through. I felt more like a real man, had made some new friends, and was anxious to get on with my four-year commitment. We were all now officially no longer "seaman recruits"; we were "seamen apprentices" and received two stripes to prove it. After a final graduation picture and receiving our new orders and billets, we were granted a two weeks leave or furlough and released from our imprisonment at Great Lakes Naval Center. Actually, I would continue my stay at GLNTC but with greater freedom as I continued my electronics schooling. See Picture 3. Don't I look young, innocent, and "unsalty" in that picture? That was a long time ago.

Joining the U.S. Navy taught me a number of valuable lessons. Some I learned quickly, others I learned gradually and some became clearer in years following. One of the lessons I learned is that often leaders are chosen because of their intellectual accomplishments, some because of their brawn [sometimes called "big man syndrome"], and some because of their bluff [sometimes called "short man syndrome" or "little dog syndrome"]. In truth, good leadership does not necessarily come from brains, brawn, or bluff but from character, wisdom, experience, and commitment. It doesn't take long before discerning people see through the facade of arrogance and incompetence that many do not see in others or even in themselves.

In some ways, I believe that a stint in the military could benefit most young men, especially in today's society. In recent years man's philosophy has frowned on old-fashioned, biblical discipline and restrictions placed on children. The result seems to be new generations of undisciplined, disrespectful, more self centered and indulgent adults. Military training often produces a more humble, obedient, self-disciplined, respectful, faithful to duty, patriotic, and team oriented citizen than ever comes out of other institutions of higher learning. So let me suggest that if one is struggling with any of the aforementioned problems, join the military as an enlisted man. It can break you and remake you into a real man. I have seen it happen many times. Unfortunately, even though it is said "there are no atheists in foxholes," God is not included in this training picture. Spiritual values must be learned elsewhere. Although I disliked my time in the military service and couldn't wait to get out, I now realize that God put me there for a number of reasons. I served my country, learned a lot of important lessons of life, gained valuable career training, and I believe that I was used of God in some small way. I tried to maintain a Christian testimony, but only eternity will reveal my influence.
Story Photos

Chapter 3

"ET" Training

Two weeks of freedom sure didn't seem very long! When I reported back to duty, my new billet was at a new location. I was quartered in another barracks similar to the first but in a less restricted area of the base, with a lot more conveniences. I was glad to see that washing machines and dryers were available, we could leave the barracks unescorted as well as go to the mess hall alone or with friends, regimentation and strict discipline was relaxed, and people were more civil. I had more personal time and could leave the base more frequently, on "liberty." This was not to assume that the things we had already been taught were discarded, but it was expected that we had actually learned them and we now incorporated them into our self-discipline. Respect for authority was still demanded and officers always rated a salute. Dedication to duty in the military is critical since often the lives of others depend on it. It is clear that there are always those who do not learn well or who rebel and that is the reason the Navy still has brigs and dishonorable discharges. I didn't have to worry about that though.

Now that my basic training was completed, I was moved on to the next stage, technical training. As I stated earlier, I had chosen and was selected for the new field of electronics. A modern navy could not at all satisfactorily function without utilizing the advances in radio, RADAR, SONAR, and other electronic devices. My first assignment was to 16 weeks of "E & E - P" [I believe that meant an electrical and electronics preparatory] school. Since I have always had an interest in the science and mechanics of devices, this was quite interesting to me and I studied hard. Some of my high school classes and personal tinkering had given me an introduction to electricity, so I did well. We learned about basic current flow, voltage, impedance, inductance, capacitance, magnetism, batteries, AC and DC, motors and generators, vacuum tubes, and the like. The training was intense, at least 40 hours a week, studying concentrated technical information that I am sure would have taken at least two years in college. Believe me, this was not easy and I would have welcomed some variety such as history, English, etc. However, these were basics that I would be able to use the rest of my life in various professions. I rarely left the base during the first couple of months because I needed to study, didn't have a car and, as a Christian, did not want to participate in the typical sailor activities. I was not the smartest in my class, but I did graduate 11th of 59 men in my class so I felt that I had done well. Some of the graduates went on to be electricians mates, sonarmen, radarmen, or radiomen; only a few were selected to continue on to be trained as full electronics technicians.

Next, I attended 10 weeks of specialized electronics training at what was called an "A" school. Again the subject material and training was intense and focused on theory and the fundamentals of radio, radar, navigational aids, and other naval equipment. As I became more confident in my studies, I would leave the base on some weekends. My mom had offered me the use of her old Plymouth car, and I was able to rent a place off base to park it. I also stored some "civies" [civilian clothes] in it so I could look and act like a regular citizen.

Being in school did not exempt me from guard or sentry duty and extra responsibilities. I had to take my turn standing watch at the barracks entry or other places, like the dumpster, the laundry, etc. Usually there was a petty officer checking on sentries from time to time. The mid-watch, from 12:00 PM to 4:00 AM, was the worst. Rarely could one sit down and that was a long time to stand. I can't figure how it could happen if sentries were alert, but several times someone raided the pop machine and stole all the pop. Back in the 1950s pop was only available in bottles. The machines in the barracks had refrigerated bottles lined up in several rows and they could only be removed by grabbing the bottles by the necks and sliding them one at a time through a gated device. However, some ingenious sailor figured out that he could remove all the caps and siphon out all the pop into a jug. Guess what? No more pop. Another job was cleaning the chief petty officer's barracks. CPOs had individual rooms and we were required, amongst other jobs, to shine and buff their floors. If you have never run a large floor buffer, you are in for a surprise! Operation requires good balance and judgement; some experience helps, too. The first time I ran one of them it was all over the room, running into walls, bunks, etc. Believe me it can do some damage to the operator as well. Muscle is insufficient, it requires finesse and that better come quickly or else. It did.

That spring, my family sold our house in Sycamore, IL and bought Mallard Point Resort in Grand Rapids, MN. Some weekends I would drive the approximate 60 miles to Sycamore and stay with my great aunt and uncle, Rosie and Willard Clawson, Bill's folks. As a kid I had spent lots of time at their house and they were like second parents to me. They were gracious, loving and caring, godly people and I owe them a lot. I remember sitting under the large elm trees in the Elmwood Cemetery across from their house and studying my electronics.

I also had a few dates with Barbara and some great "get away" times with other friends. But, I never felt quite free and had to be back promptly to the base on Sunday evening. There were times that I thought my brain couldn't absorb any more technical data so these breaks helped a lot to keep my sanity intact. Returning to the base was difficult, not only because it was back to the grind, but I had trouble staying awake. Coffee seemed to help some.

On several weekends I made a speedy trip to visit my family in Grand Rapids. We usually left on Friday at about 5:00 PM and drove all night. In those days the roads were two-lane and went through all the little towns along the way, so the 500-mile-plus trip took about 12 hours each way. Although that didn't allow much time for visiting, or fishing, the journey was well worth it. A couple of friends from the base usually accompanied me and I would drop them off on the way north and pick them up on the return trip. The drive was easier with friends and the cost of travel was shared, which helped a lot considering my monthly salary was about $80.

During my time at GLTC I often felt alone. I arrived just a scared kid, couldn't find even one nearby person that I thought was a Christian, but tried to be faithful to the Lord. I attended chapel when I could, but sensed only religion there. The few times I could attend church in Sycamore were of great spiritual encouragement, but I mostly had to rely on my own devotions and Bible study. Most of my mates left the base at every opportunity to drink and carouse on the streets of North Chicago or Milwaukee. I had no interest in that at all. Except for a few boxing matches, the only entertainment available on the base was the theater. As a kid I had not attended the theater because, as Dad explained, of the atmosphere, subject material, support for Hollywood, and my testimony; Christians just weren't seen at movies. However, on one occasion a friend of mine convinced me to see a movie at the base theater. He assured me that it was a good movie and I would enjoy it, so I went. Somehow, I didn't feel guilty and it became one of my favorite movies. I have a copy of it in my video library. The movie was called "Picnic." It was about a fall festival in a small town and a drifter who fell in love with a local girl. The music was stirring, the settings nostalgic, and I was probably thinking of Barbara. Anyway, I enjoyed the movie a lot, which by today's standards would probably be rated "G." I think that was the only movie I saw there.

The summer passed quickly and before long it was September and time for me to graduate from "A" school. I graduated 5th in a select class of 15, so I felt good about that. I also completed studies and testing for an increase in rank and was advanced to ETSN, Electronics Technician Seaman First Class, E3 rank. I had spent almost a complete year in training at Great Lakes Naval Center and was ready to move on and "see the world." You can see a copy of all my training and promotions record in Picture 4.

As I look back on that year, I realize how my life was impacted, my eyes opened, my values confirmed, and how much I had learned and matured! I still marvel at the creation of natural laws and science that man is just discovering but that God had created in the beginning. Who could have imagined, just a hundred years ago, the wonders of the field of electronics, in communications, appliances, television, computers, satellites, and much more? I often wonder what other undiscovered scientific principles God has in store for man to uncover. Perhaps if we studied the Scriptures more intently with this in mind, we might learn more quickly and easily about God's creation. I also learned that if you want to succeed anywhere in this world, a good education is necessary. That requires commitment and hard work. Sadly, I was quite disappointed to see that there are not many men who have much interest in God. Man, apart from God and accountability to others, quickly becomes a reprobate and slips more deeply into sin. I had no idea when I enlisted what was ahead; but the Lord was faithful to me, opened doors, gave me encouragement and strength, and kept me from evil. As I look back, I believe I was where He wanted me to be even though I didn't know it then. In future chapters you will see what I mean by that statement and how it all played out in my life.
Story Photos

Chapter 4

Anchors Aweigh

After electronics training I received my transfer orders and reassignment to the naval fleet. At last I was going to be a real seafaring man and no longer a "landlubber". Following a short leave, my new billet was aboard the USS Vance, DER 387 in Vallejo, California. The USS Vance was an old World War II destroyer escort ship that had been used in various duties including the US Coast Guard. DER was the identification for a Destroyer Escort RADAR. The ship was in dry-dock being totally reconditioned and refurbished with the latest electronic equipment. It was being refitted to be a part of the DEW [Distant Early Warning] system protection around the United States during the cold war with Russia.

My trip to Vallejo was something new to me, and quite intimidating but interesting. I had never been on a large airplane before so the trip via a MATS [Military Air Transport System] troop airplane to Oakland, CA was an educational experience. I then flew from Oakland to Vallejo in a large helicopter, and was that ever exciting. Helicopters were relatively new in the 1950s and this one was loud and shook quite a lot as the large rotor blade bit into the air. I have been told that some of the large blade tips reach the speed of sound and can create a small sonic boom. Maybe that is why one can easily hear and identify a 'copter at a distance. Anyway, we shortly set down in Vallejo. Carrying all my belongings in my green sea-bag, I caught a "jitney" [a crude local minibus] to the base on Mare Island.

Did I just say "seafaring man?" Would you believe that the USS Vance was sitting high and dry on supports in a dry dock? Well, I recognized, "orders is orders!" and "mine was not to question why but to do or die." Actually I found this situation to be of great interest and education, too, because I was able to walk under, as well as around and inside the ship. I doubt that many other sailors were ever able to see completely how their ship is made, but I did. See Picture 3. I also observed the "yard birds" completing the finishing touches and doing semi-final testing on the equipment. As I reported aboard, saluting the deck, I presented my orders to the Officer of the Deck. Shortly thereafter I was given a tour and some orientation, assigned a bunk and small locker, and introduced to some shipmates. Thus began my new life aboard ship that continued for the following three years.

So what does a sailor do when his ship isn't sailing? Many clean and mop the decks or polish the brass, some cook or load supplies. Everyone takes his turn at standing some sort of "watch," and, of course, his turn at peeling potatoes, unless he is a petty officer or above in rank. Drills are also practiced regularly, especially "General Quarters," which readies the ship for battle conditions. It was also a more relaxed schedule with time for personal interests but not for me. I was scheduled for more electronics training. During this time and in following months, I attended numerous one or two-week classes on the theory and maintenance of specific electronic equipment. This training included surface, air, and height finding RADAR equipment, monitoring scopes and displays, IFF identification units, TACAN air beacon equipment, LORAN navigational equipment, UHF, VHF, & Single Sideband transmitters and receivers, teletype, facsimile weather receivers, and more. In all, I think I must have received additional ten or more weeks of valuable, specialized technical training. Although my primary training at Great Lakes was in RADAR, I now had a well-rounded electronics technician education that made me in primary demand on the ship. After my broad education opportunities, future training was focused either on RADAR or communication specialties, not both. This extensive training provided me the knowledge to subsequently get a rare First Class FCC License with RADAR endorsement, the credentials required to work on radio or TV stations.

Finally the USS Vance was ready for a "shake down" cruise and sea trials. This small ship had almost every type of the latest electronic equipment that one would find, even on an aircraft carrier. All that sophisticated equipment was necessary because it would be our job, along with other ships in our squadron, to patrol the West Coast of the United States from Alaska to Hawaii. We had to be monitoring continuously [24 -7-365] and alert for possible attacks on our country. Although we had two 3-inch guns, twin 40-mm guns, depth charges, and small arms, ours was a surveillance ship not a combat ship. She was extensively remodeled with an extra, enclosed deck to accommodate the extra equipment and personnel in comfortable but limited space. And now she and her crew would be put to the test.

With the dry dock filled with water, the engines and boilers fired up, and every sailor manning his station, the USS Vance sailed out to sea. I don't remember any of the recommissioning ceremonies, but there was excitement in the air and a funny feeling in my stomach. Maybe it was adrenaline from the festivities, maybe it was the reality of finally going to sea, maybe it was a slight touch of sea-sickness due to the motion of the ship. Whatever it was, my emotions were stirred. In the next several weeks we went to sea daily to check out all the equipment, eliminate the "bugs," and to familiarize the new crew, which included novices like myself, with shipboard life and responsibilities. On longer trips out to sea we stopped at other ports of call in California, including Alameda and San Diego. I remember passing Alcatraz Island, the long San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, the famous Golden Gate Bridge and other significant landmarks. Although I was still in the States, I was starting to see some of the world that I had never seen before. I even had my first chance to cross the border into Mexico.

While we were in San Diego, I wanted to see Mexico but had heard about the evils of Tijuana from my cousin, Bill, who had been stationed nearby in the Marines. Not wanting to go alone, I decided to go with several friends who I believed had some higher moral standards. It was quite interesting to see the immediate change in culture as soon as we crossed the border. Everywhere there were Hispanic people jabbering in Spanish. Small craft stores selling trinkets, clothing, leather goods, and you name it were abundant. The marked price was just a starting point for bargaining, which was vigorously engaged in. I was not really interested in buying anything. I just wanted to look around, but the shopkeepers would grab my arm and try to entice me anyway. The biggest surprise, though, was the frequent attempt to sell me right there on the street a "virgin" sister or daughter. When we went into a sort of cantina to get something to eat, the environment was just as bad with abundant liquor and vulgar comedians making nasty jokes. This was no place for me, and I was determined to leave but I had to leave alone; no one would come with me. I learned some more lessons! Sin seems alluring but leads to depravity. Quickly flee it!

I believe it was while I was in Vallejo that I heard about a Christian Servicemen's Center in town. It was actually just an open upstairs apartment available for military guys to get away, enjoy some snacks and activities, find quality fellowship, and hear the Word of God presented in an informal setting. I went there when I could, but that was only a few times. Most of the time I went alone. There were normally only a few men there, but I enjoyed playing Ping-Pong, relaxing in a wholesome environment, and I appreciated the ministry available to me and to others.

When sea trials were completed satisfactorily, the Vance was assigned to sea duty with homeport of Pier 91 in Seattle, Washington. By then I was already getting used to sea life. I never got very seasick, but I saw those who did! It seemed that every time we were on rough seas, the cooks served greasy pork chops or something that didn't stay down well. And then there was always "soup of the day," which I think was all the leftovers from the previous day with water added. Once I saw a cook dip out someone's cigarette lighter; who knows what else may have been in that pot? Most of the time the chow was good, verifying the old adage "The Navy gets the gravy, but the Army gets the beans." Our food was always served on large divided trays, cafeteria-style but it wasn't always easy to hang onto one's food and drink in rough seas.

Almost every evening a new movie was shown in the chow hall, which was long and narrow. I believe they were probably prescreened so as not to cause any type of problem aboard a ship of only men. It really was the only entertainment that was available except card games. Many of the sailors would gamble away their meager pay as soon as they got it. That was probably better than getting drunk and "rolled" when going ashore. Anyway, with free room and board, medical care, and other benefits, a single man didn't need much money except to buy personal items in the ship's tiny store. Some shysters would loan their shipmates a little money if they paid them back double on the next payday. We were often paid in two-dollar bills in order to keep the unpopular bill in circulation. I usually sent some of my pay home for the folks to save so it wouldn't get stolen.

My bunk was mid-ship, uppermost in a "rack" of three. It had a typical 3-inch mattress, pillow, blanket and linens. One of the three drawers under the bottom bunk was mine as well as a narrow locker about 3'x 1'x 1' for my P-coat, shoes, etc. See Picture 5. Laundry services were provided for us. With everything provided, what more could anyone desire? HA! I think many shipmates did enjoy the carefree, irresponsible, everything provided, shallow and sinful life, with an early retirement, and made it a career. Living together can create close friends. I had some good friends even though we didn't have a lot in common except beards. Some of their names were Henry, Hal, Virgil or Ed, and Rick. Although I look back on my experience as beneficial, I could not wait to be discharged. It was not the life for me. I wanted to live in the country, find the love of my life, get married and have a family and home, enjoy Christian fellowship and spiritual growth, serve the Lord, and live above poverty and day to day living.

Speaking of the love of my life, it would not be Barbara. I really did like her, carried her picture in my wallet, and thought about her a lot as any lonely sailor would. You know, "the sweetheart back home waiting for her sailor to come home from the sea." Big joke! After corresponding for a while, I got the proverbial "Dear John" letter. I felt bad, but we weren't going steady and I knew she had other suitors. Pardon my pride, but as it turned out, she was the loser. As I said before, God had that very special gal waiting for me, the most beautiful and wonderful person I could ever imagine, my future wife, JoAnn.

During my tour in Seattle, the Clawson family moved to Olympia, Washington. Olympia was only about 60 miles south so I bought a used Plymouth coup and again enjoyed some weekends with them. I went to their church whenever I could and got to know some friends including a couple of girls. Aunt Rosie's brother, Ray Swanson, lived in Seattle. On occasion I visited them. Ray was a Moody Bible Institute representative in the Northwest, and I accompanied and helped him several times when he went to a church to show a Moody Science film. Those films were some of the most interesting religious films that I have ever seen. I think they are still available and relevant 50 years later. I am sure that God used them to win many souls to Himself. If you get the opportunity to see any of them, you should not pass it up!

As I recall, we were in Seattle for about a year. We would sail from Pier 91, up Puget Sound, through the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and into the North Pacific. Our squadron patrolled the area from Alaska halfway to Hawaii. Each ship's schedule was usually about three weeks on patrol station, three weeks on other maneuvers, and three weeks in port. Winter seas were sometimes quite rough and often the ship was completely sealed against the sea; no one was allowed topside. I remember one time when the front enclosed gun mount was loosened and the bow chain locker compartment filled with water. I will tell you more about some of these sea experiences in the next chapter. Ports of call around Seattle included Bremerton, Port Townsend, Bellingham, Port Angeles, Victoria-B.C, Astoria-OR, and others. Some stops were for supplies, some for R & R.

I don't recall if it was on the northern patrols or later on southern patrols, but occasionally we would find hollow glass balls, 6 -12 inches in diameter, floating on the ocean. Sometimes we would retrieve them for souvenirs. They were floats that had floated loose from Japanese fishing nets. Also available in curio shops, they were often used for marine décor. I never had one but do have another unique souvenir. Our height radar employed a very large tube capable of generating the one million-watt pulse for the magnetron. The tubes were not salvageable so were routinely thrown overboard at sea. I asked if I could have one of them and converted it to a night-light using a red bulb; I still have it.

Once before I had my car, I decided to visit my Aunt Dorothy in Walla Walla, WN. I planned to hitchhike there in uniform so that I would be more likely to get a ride. I did get a ride right away, but as we were traveling through the mountains, I began to get quite nervous as I realized that the driver must have been intoxicated. I asked him to let me out at what seemed to be an intersection of two main roads. As I stood there, it began to rain, soaking me in my dress blue wool uniform. I could not believe that there was literally no traffic on those main roads. Finally I flagged down a passing truck. I must have been a sorry sight and he gave me a ride to Walla Walla. I think that was my last attempt at hitchhiking! On my last leave from Seattle, alone I drove my Plymouth coup about 1200 miles on U.S. Highway #2 to Grand Rapids. It was a very tiring trip and I had to pull over several times to get a nap. Once I got lost in a small town, drove past a school, turned around and drove back through a school stop sign right in front of several policemen. I was quickly pulled over, but when I explained that I didn't even see the sign, they let me go. They must have believed that I wouldn't do something that stupid right in front of them, or else I looked exhausted, or they felt sorry for me. Maybe it was because I was a sailor. I remember when I arrived home that my brother Terry and I took the car out on a new blacktop road north of the resort to see how fast it would go. The road had no traffic and we got the car to over 90 MPH. About ten miles later, as we turned onto Mallard Point road, there was a thumping sound. When we got out there was a bulge about the size of a goose egg on the side of the tire. That was a pretty close call! The Lord saw me safely home many miles. When my leave ended, I gave my car to my brother Terry for safekeeping [HA]. Seattle was a beautiful, pristine area that was quite attractive to me. Years later I returned several times; once I thought of moving there. Aunt Rosie, Uncle Willard, and their daughter, Mary Swineheart and family, eventually retired there.

Reflection has mellowed my dislike for those years and has given me an appreciation and respect for those in military service, their great spiritual needs, and those who minister to them. It has also given me regrets that I didn't do more to meet these needs myself. I think that I grew spiritually [in spite of the circumstances], matured, and put on some height and weight. I hadn't yet "seen the world," but I had already seen and experienced quite a lot for a 20-year-old. I had been promoted from seaman apprentice to full seaman, and not long after to third class petty officer. One of the many lessons I learned during my time in the Navy was that, even in a strict, regimented environment like the military, a person can be recognized, advanced, and realize their potential if they study, work hard, are faithful and abide by the rules.
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Chapter 5

Aloha Hawaii

Although I really appreciated the Pacific Northwest environment with its moderate climate, pristine forests, water wonders, mountains, and extreme natural beauty, I was excited to learn that our homeport was soon going to be Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Hawaii was literally a tropical paradise and elite tourist destination. Not only that, but it was also a historic site of World War II. I could hardly wait. It was only fair that our ship should have its turn patrolling the southern stretch of the Pacific DEW line.

I don't exactly remember the trip south, but I sure remember the welcome when we arrived. We passed the famous Diamond Head landmark, Waikiki Beach, and other sights that I did not yet recognize. See Picture 6. As we sailed into Pearl Harbor there were so many things to see all at once that I could hardly take them all in. I remember passing the Arizona Memorial with its stacks still protruding from the water, and many ships at anchor or at the docks. I never saw so many ships. I was trying to imagine how it must have looked on December 7, 1941, before and after that "Day in Infamy." Shortly, we tied up next to several other ships of our squadron. Whenever we were in port, one of three groups was assigned "the duty" so the ship could always get underway on a short notice. The rest could go ashore after working hours or weekends on liberty. Immediately upon arrival I was allowed to go ashore for a couple of days. We received the typical Aloha reception on the dock from the locals with Hawaiian music, performing hula dancers, and flowered leis for everyone. I wasn't expecting such a cordial welcome, and it was great! The first thing that I did was to look around the base. Since the duty crew was only a "skeleton crew," we would normally eat our meals at the base mess hall with other ships' crews and could enjoy the other services available. I had to check this all out first. There were sports areas, indoor and outdoor theaters, an Enlisted Men's Club, and a large store called a PX or Base Exchange. In the months following I would take advantage of all of these except the EM Club, which was basically a bar and dancehall.

But, who would stay on a military base when a tropical paradise was just outside the gate? Shortly I joined the mob of "swabbies" headed for the good life. Honolulu was just a short bus ride away. Towering hotels lined the streets and beaches, people were everywhere, and there were the sounds and feelings of festivities all around. I walked along Waikiki Beach, toured the International Marketplace, checked out a few shops and eating places, and basically tried to familiarize myself with what would become a familiar place in months to come. Some days later as I recall, I took a tour bus around Honolulu to see more interesting things. I can't remember everything I saw; but it included native habitats, homes of the wealthy, World War II sights, commercial harbors with a variety of boats, old churches, etc. I watched several open-air shows with great Hawaiian music, hula and Tahitian dancers, and tropical male dancers with their firebrands, acrobatics and drums. Within the first few days I attended a luau with real roast pig, poi, fresh pineapple, and other tropical treats that I had never tasted before. Months before I had purchased a new Argus C3 slide camera, the latest in photography, and now I was putting it to good use. You can see some pictures of Hawaii in Picture 7.

I suppose one of the most famous attractions of Hawaii is Waikiki Beach. Even back in the 1950s it was popular. So, of course, I had to take advantage of that experience. The only problem was that I had my uniform on, not my swimming suit. Obviously the problem was not mine alone and it was quickly remedied. I purchased a colorful swimming suit and towel, and rented a locker in a nearby dressing room built for just such a purpose. In fact, I rented the locker for the long term and purchased some civies so that I could blend in with the other tourists. Not only were civilian clothes more comfortable, but also I could mostly avoid the prying eyes of the ever-present Shore Patrol. The beaches there are mostly ground up coral instead of sand, and it sticks to the skin tenaciously. If I remember correctly, some of the fancier hotels actually had sand hauled in to give their guests special treatment. The sun and tropical breezes were warm, the sea warm and salty. One could almost forget his problems by just lying on the beach and watching the sailboats, outriggers, and catamarans just off shore. Of course, I had to swim and try my hand at surfboarding. I tried it several times, but could not master standing up for long. It isn't easy, you know!

On other liberties, between tours at sea, I traveled around the island of Oahu to see the other sights. One of my friends had a car. Since it was only about 130 miles around the whole island, we took several tours. We also drove along the inland routes on other occasions in the months following. The seacoast, islands, mountains, valleys, flowers and other vegetation were so different from what I had seen before…….spectacular sights for the eyes and pictures. I especially remember photographing hibiscus, bird of paradise, orchids and other native flowers that grew profusely on the island. I saw Diamond Head, the Blow Hole, the Pali, the Dole Pineapple Plantation, sugar cane fields, a Mormon Tabernacle, and more. My friends and I swam and snorkeled in several secluded and reef protected inlets along the famous Kamehameha Highway named after Hawaii's king of yore. The temperature along the seashore is always around 75 degrees but it does snow in the mountains during the short winter. No wonder so many people vacation in Hawaii, a true south-pacific paradise. I am sure it is much more commercialized today.

As enjoyable as it was, we were not there for a vacation; we had a job to do. Like in Seattle, we spent three weeks at sea, 3 weeks on maneuvers, and three weeks in port. At least that was the way it was supposed to be. Actually, we spent about half the time on station at sea because the Vance appeared to be the best performing ship in the squadron. It seemed that every time we returned to port, we had to turn around and take another ship's place at sea because they had some sort of equipment problems. Maybe our captain was more conscientious or "gung-ho" because problems didn't seem to deter our duty. I remember times when our evaporators weren't functioning properly and we had little fresh water. Water was rationed with each man getting about two cups of water in the morning and evening to wash his face, shave, and brush his teeth. Many of us grew beards. Drinking water was available in the mess hall, but no showers. On one long waterless stretch we ETs secretly took sponge baths in the ET Shack from the single bucket of water allowed for cleaning. The slightly soapy water then made for easier cleaning and the residue dried invisible. I also remember one time when the crew became so stinky and uncomfortable that captain let them send seawater through the showers so we could bathe. That was not a good idea because seawater leaves an itchy, salty residue. Personally, I would rather stink than itch! …..A lesson learned the hard way.

Sometimes the sea was quite rough. I felt sorry for some of the men who never got over being seasick. They would just lie in their bunks or even on the floor. We kidded about a cult that we had aboard ship. We called them "Ralph worshippers." They spent a lot of time on their knees in the head before the "throne" bowing over it and calling "Ralph," and offering up their dinner. Really, it wasn't funny. In really rough seas the ship would sometimes roll over so far that I could as easily stand on the wall as on the floor. Doors and hatches were "battened down", no one was allowed topside, and normal routine work was suspended so we could lie in our half-triced [partly tipped up] bunks. The first class petty officers were quartered in the bow section of the ship, which rose and fell ten to twenty feet as the ship dove into the waves. It was like being on a carnival ride. I guess these "old salts" could take it better than others. The machinist mates, boilermen, electricians, and other engineering personnel were quartered in the rear area of the ship. It was noisy there and every time the ship went over a large swell, the propellers would come partway out of the water and shake the rear of the ship. As I said earlier, I was quartered amidships which rolled a lot, but only rocked gently forward and backward. Lucky me!

On some days the seas were quite calm, so we would air out our mattresses, clean, polish, paint, and do preventive maintenance on exterior equipment like antennas, etc. We could also get a sun tan, fish, target practice, exercise, and just lounge around. Mail call was always a highlight. Sometimes when the sea was calmer, another ship would pull alongside and we would transfer supplies, including movies and mail. I always enjoyed a letter from home. At times I would get a letter with the corners chewed off by my parakeet, with the note "Winky says Hi." Packages with cookies were always appreciated and shared but came all crumbly. One time we encountered flying fish, some landing on the deck. Porpoise gliding effortlessly right in front of the bow frequently accompanied us as we sailed along. Albatross were also around, even hundreds of miles from shore, always on the lookout for garbage thrown overboard. Although the shore was distant, we were at times reminded that the nearest land was usually only about a mile away…….straight down. HA

I was part of the Operations Department, which included radarmen, radiomen, sonarmen, and electronics technicians. As a seaman, I was required to take my turn in the "spud locker" peeling potatoes. Actually, we just had to remove the potato eyes and throw the spuds into a device that looked like a large garbage disposal, which ground off all the skins. No one enjoyed the wet KP duty. When I was frequently relieved of this duty to go fix some equipment failure, which seemed to happen every time I had KP, others became resentful and jealous. Some senior radarmen were especially disturbed and gave me a hard time. That didn't last long though, because I shortly made 3rd class petty officer [E-4] exempting me from KP. A few months after that I passed the requirements for 2nd class petty officer and outranked some of my antagonists. Being the most broadly trained ET and having gained a lot of experience made me the most in demand, which made me feel "worth my salt." So that I could be on repair call at a moment's notice I made myself a 3-pocket leather tool pouch with my initials on it. It was about the size of a large pocketknife sheath and I wore it on my belt. With two screwdrivers, a long-nosed plier, a crescent wrench, a fuse puller, and a grounding probe on my side, I was ready for action. I still have that pouch with my collections. Soon I was the lead ET and was assigned additional senior responsibilities. At times I was Petty Officer of the Deck and carried a 45-caliber sidearm. Actually, I sometimes had a little more authority in that area than I felt I could handle. See Picture 9.

The Vance had a simple ship's entertainment system, which consisted of three-channel speakers in various sleeping quarters with music piped down from the main equipment in the radio shack. The radiomen were responsible for providing 3 types of music for the crew to select and enjoy. But most of the radiomen were "rednecks" and enjoyed country music, so they played their music on all the channels. I really didn't mind country music, but hearing only that all day long finally got on the nerves of many crewmembers. Complaining didn't do much good, so we decided we must take corrective action. First we ETs made some wiring changes to the tape player so they couldn't use the tapes. But the radiomen were alert enough to spy our "Jerry-rigging" and dismantled it. Not to be defeated, we then took a large used magnet from one of the radars and erased portions of those tapes so they were unusable. We then enjoyed a few good songs, but mostly quiet. AHHH, peace! As a result of overexposure, I don't care for country music even today.

I must tell you about one harrowing and life-threatening experience. One day I was repairing a radio transmitter in the radio shack. I was always quite careful when working on the high voltage equipment. This time, after diagnosing the problem, I shut down all the units, posted a sign on the remote controls, discharged the internal wiring with a shorting wand, and began my repairs. Suddenly I was thrown about 12 feet across the room, smashing myself against other equipment and was knocked out cold. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor looking up at a crowd of concerned faces. There was a smell of burnt flesh in the air and my shoes and socks were off. I had been electrocuted! How could that have happened when I was so careful? The answer was that the shipyard had mislabeled the unit I was working on. My "Do Not Energize!" sign was on the wrongly labeled remote unit and a radioman had turned the transmitter on and started to use it. 1300 volts had entered my body, which made all my muscles contract, causing me to bolt across the room. If God had not been watching over me and had plans for my life, I surely would have been dead. But fortunately the current passed primarily from my forefinger to my thumb on my left hand. To this day I have scars on both fingers. Many years later, I talked to my division officer and he told me that I gave him the scare of his life. He felt that he was responsible for me. The whole ship heard about it and it proved to be one incident that some of my old shipmates remember to this day. [Log on to www.ussvance.com]. I certainly will never forget that incident. God truly is faithful in caring for his own!

I tried to be faithful to Him, too. I spent time studying my Bible and memorized many verses, even chapters, while standing solitary watches. I knew that I was really in a great mission field right then, but I seemed to have little influence. I did have a clear testimony and often was ridiculed. For a while, as a petty officer, I led the humble Sunday church services aboard ship. Only half a dozen or so men attended, mostly closer friends. We sang a couple of familiar hymns, a cappella, and I prayed and brought a short devotional but that was it. Most of the men couldn't be less interested and slept in. The ship had no chaplain, but much later the executive officer decided that a commissioned officer should be in charge of the services. I am quite sure that he was not a believer, but with added pressure, more came for a short while. I did have the chance to lead one of my shipmates to the Lord but lost track of him after my discharge. Only eternity will reveal if I made a difference.

In recent years I have thought how that ship was like the church, the body of Christ. The line officers and men seemed to think that they were the most important as the brains and the mouth of the team. But without the eyes and the ears, the radarmen and radiomen, the missions were useless. Sometimes these men thought that the mission revolved around them, but without the ETs to keep things working they were useless. And without the electricians, enginemen, etc., the nerves and muscles of the ship, it went nowhere. And finally without the supply personnel, who were often considered least important, we would have no food, fuel, parts, ammunition, or basic needs. In order to fulfill our calling and duty, every part of the team was necessary and, even more so, those that received less honor. That is a lesson from right out of 1 Corinthians 12:18-26 in the Bible, as applied to the church. Interesting, huh?

Once we stopped at Midway Island. That was a very interesting experience, too. If you know history, one of the major battles of World War II took place there. It is such a small island in the middle of nowhere but was critical to the advance toward Japan. The island is barely large enough for an airstrip and a few buildings, but it was an important base for our DEW Line airplanes and ships. See Picture 8. Surrounding the island were sunken ships and other evidences of the war. The island's only natural inhabitants are gooney birds, or albatross. They are unusual birds, quite graceful in flight but very clumsy on land. They can soar endlessly over the sea, but when landing they fall end-over-teakettle. Their nests are just a small depression in the sand where the chicks sit waiting to be fed until they are as large as the adults. Before getting white and gray feathers, they are curly brown fuzzy critters. When I was there, the birds were everywhere. The Navy tried to relocate them because they are a danger to airplanes, but they just returned. We were there only one day. It must have been quite boring for the men stationed there.

Another spectacular event occurred while I was at Pearl Harbor. We were docked, tied outboard of several other sister ships, when the Officers Club adjacent to the ships caught fire. It was a large building and the fire raged ferociously and spread quickly. I remember some sailors trying to get water hoses hooked up to the adjacent ships before the fire trucks came. There was a lot of excitement and confusion. The junior officers aboard became quite concerned that some of the fuel or ammunition onboard ship might catch fire, too, and tried to get underway with just a skeleton crew. I really don't remember what actually happened except that the club burned to the ground. I had my movie camera running.

It was always enjoyable to return to Hawaii after sea duty. I developed good friendships with some of the sailors I had been with for several years, now. I have one regret, which is that I never was able to see the other islands of Hawaii. I would have loved to see the volcanoes and the other unique sights of Hawaii. Maybe I can go there again someday, Lord willing. I am sure there must be a lot of changes by now.

During my time aboard ship, I completed three correspondence courses through the University of Wisconsin, two on carpentry and one on television. The education and experience that I received while in the Navy benefited me the rest of my life. See Picture 4.

In late September of 1959 my tour of active duty came to an end and I was transferred to Treasure Island Naval Base near San Francisco for discharge. I received a letter of commendation from the captain of my ship and a good conduct medal. On October 5th I was discharged and transferred to the Naval Reserves for two years. Because there was no reserve unit near Grand Rapids, MN, I was not required to attend any meetings. On November 17th, 1961, I received my Honorable Discharge. See Picture Although I was offered an opportunity to go to OCS [Officers Candidate School] and a nice sum of money to "ship over" [re-enlist], I was not at all tempted to make the U.S. Navy a career. I couldn't wait to get out and get on with normal life. I was anxious to get back to Mallard Point Resort, enjoy some fishing, and spend time with my family. I had a lot of stories to relate. My return trip home was by Greyhound bus, a lengthy and uncomfortable trip I would never want to repeat but I was going home!

I never liked my military service time, and in ensuing years I even had some nightmares of being called back to active duty. But, I am proud to have served my country, obtaining a valuable education, and gained experiences I would never otherwise have had. I sincerely believe that God directed me into the Navy, accompanied, guided, and protected me. I entered just a scared kid and left as a man, who loves and appreciates his country, patriotic forever!
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The Bridge