Lest We Forget

Usually my Friday's are dedicated to the ladies.
This friday, I am going to talk about something historical, that involved women as well. Even sounds like a woman.
Pearl Harbor.
Isn't that a pretty name?
On this date, in 1941, it wasn't so pretty.
350 Japanese aircraft in 2 aerial assault waves had the goal to destroy the Pacific Fleet stationed at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.
2 battleships were sank, six more were damaged. The U.S.S. Arizona taking the major brunt. She is still below the water, and 945 of her crew stayed with her. It was deemed unsafe to pull them out.
3 cruisers were damaged.
2 destroyers were sank, one more was damaged.
1 "other" ship type was sank (minesweeper, I think)
three more were damaged.
188 aircraft were destroyed, that was every plane we had there. 155 of them were still on the ground.
The Navy lost 2008 men, 1,177 of them were from the battleship Arizona.
710 Navy men were wounded.
The Marines lost 109 men, with 69 wounded.
The Army/Air Corps lost 218 men, with 364 wounded.
That's 2,504 men lost.

And, civilians?
57 of them dead, including women and children. Children as young as 3 years old.
35 more injured.

It was, indeed, a day of infamy. One that time has "mellowed", and some people have forgotten, or choose not to think about because it did not "affect" them. I wonder, in 66 years, will people be saying that about the September 11 attacks?
There are still Pearl Harbor survivors alive. Not many. I read yesterday, that some of the Arizona survivors chose to be buried with their ship-mates when they passed away. They are allowed this honor, and their bodies, or ashes, sunk to return to their ship. I've personally been to the Arizona Memorial. I was very emotional, and quiet the whole time there. I could still feel the devastation. And looking at all those names, my heart sank to the depths of that cold water.

So, sixty six years ago today. This morning, as a matter of fact. Pearl Harbor.

LMAO at this one. . .

Which of Santa's Reindeer are you?





Dancer


Like Dancer you are graceful and elegant. People can't help but watch you when you walk into a room


Find out which of Santa's Reindeer you are at Quizopolis.com

moi? Merci Beaucoup!

My lovely cousin, CamiKaos, in her selfless desire to share, has awarded me a 'mad skillz' award. For finding the perfect present. I do try.

She has charged us recipiants, however, to go forth and 'award', ourselves. So I will. (Lets see how many blogs are going to have Cami with a beer can on her head on them!)

lets start with MM. He has some serious mad skillz. Most of which I won't tell you about. But he can nudge with power and authority, AND he can even talk about computer stuff at a level I can understand. Now that's a mad skill. He also has an excellent sense of humor. Dark, and sarcastic. Definately my kind of man!

And, David in DC. He has the mad skill of reminding us all of very important things, like what is going on in Darfur right now. Also, he has a hampster the size of a wookie named Ted. AND his son, Monkey boy? Has probably got us all beat in the Mad Skillz department.

Cami already got Celtic Rose, (and, everyone ELSE practically) so I will just have to agree with her on that one. (However, she could share that award with Chad. . .)Though, I have to tell you, CR has many many more mad skillz than her inattention to her blog. One of them, (and one of my favorites) is that she can speak in a perfect Irish Brogue at the drop of a hat, and maintain the thing for a whole day! Especially at the Ren faire. Another mad skill? She is, probably, the friendliest, sweetist and kind person I know on this earth. Seriously. Also? Yesterday was her birthday.

And, lastly, but not leastly, Jamie.
Jamie has mad skillz that I think she wish she didn't have to have. She has mad coping skillz. She has a lot on her plate, but every day, she deals. And finds the positive. I hope you got a good new pair of shoes, Jamie! I'm so exited for you!

Okay, there you have it. I have passed on the love from my cousin, AND a picture of her with a beer can on her head. I'm sure the family is so proud!

Wordless Wednesday

broken? Not really

Reading Cami's blog thinking about my time in the Navy, and about Christmas has all caught up with me, and made me remember things that were well, not forgotten, but tucked into the recesses of my brain. This is one of them.

I was 18 when I went into the Navy, it was the summer after highschool. By November, I was done with whatever training they were going to give me, and I headed out to see what life in "the fleet" was like. My first duty station was Yokosuka, Japan. I went on December 7th, many of my family and friends liked to tease me that I was the ultimate revenge for Pearl Harbor. (hee hee).

Anyhow. I made friends quickly, that far away from home. Some really good ones, some really bad ones. If I remember correctly, I spent my first Christmas from home with a friend named Jewel, and some of her other friends, and we rode a train to an Army base for some event they were having there. It sucked. We had more fun on the train.
The next Christmas, I had a boyfriend (who later became my husband). I took some paid leave days and we spent Christmas, just the two of us, staying in a nice hotel in Yokosuka, and being with each other un-interrupted, which was something we had not been able to do, EVER. We'd been dating for 10 months. I think I took four or five days, and we just relaxed, and wandered, and talked, and it was really like there was no one else in the world but us. (Hey, we were young, and in looooooove- or so we thought). It was a pretty great Christmas. No exchange of gifts, or tree's or cookies (we did have some of his Mom's really good date nut cake, though).
Fast forward to the next year. I came home on December first, and hadn't been home for two years. I had a month of leave to burn up, and was going to be having Christmas with all the family.
Never have I really felt so off kilter. There I was, in the midst of all the Christmas cheer, the tree's the food the presents the decorations the music the family the talk the EVERYTHING.
And, I hated it. Don't get me wrong. I loved seeing the family and friends and all that, but, I'd forgotten how to act, I had forgotten how to do this big thing called Christmas, I'd forgotten the stress of it. I'd forgotten all the commercialism of it. I MISSED the simple Christmas' I'd had in Japan, where it was a celebration just to BE with people, have a nice dinner, and spend quality time with them.
So, there I sat, that first year. Twenty, and lost, in my own family. I tried really hard to pretend that I wasn't. I know I fooled some, but probably not others, the wiser ones who'd been there, the ones who REALLY knew me. (I didn't fool my Dad for one spare minute.). I felt broken, and kind of defective, that I'd forgotten some elemental skill of family.
But I tried.
Many Christmas' have passed since them. I've spent a few more away from the family. I work a lot of them. One memorable Christmas, my grandfather died. It might sound odd, but that one? Was just a little more special, actually.
I love Christmas, the cookies, the family, the gifts, the decorations, the tree. But, secretly, there is still that part of me that wishes we could NOT do all that, and just be with each other. Having a good meal, a good laugh, and enjoying each other's quiet company. It's really nice.

Anchors Aweigh

Okay
I am going to demystify something for you.
I am going to tell the tale of what happens, on a Navy Ship, when the Equator is crossed.
There is a tradition, that until you have crossed the equator on a ship, that you are a Lowly Polly wog. Most of you, I suspect, my bloggy friends, are such Wog's. As was I, until one fateful day.
'Wog Day' is a much anticipated day on any WestPac(western pacific) Cruise. The 'foreplay' if you will, starts well before the equator is even neared. It practically starts the first day the ship is underway on said cruise. Because, my bloggy friends, if you've already crossed the equator, and you are no longer a Lowly Polly wog, that means you are a Shell back, and, when the equator is crossed, you get to beat the hell out of the new Wogs, so that they, in turn, might become Shell back. It's the circle of life, Navy life.
So the threats from the Shell backs begin to fly. The closer you get to the equator, the more they fly. 2 weeks before the equator is approached trash starts being saved, and old, orange fire hoses are cut into 'shillelaghs'. (Basically, an arm length piece of hose used to beat the arse of the wogs as they crawl through the ship).
So, Wog day comes. It comes with a vengeance. As a wog, I am hiding, wearing my uniform as prescribed (inside out and backwards)awaiting the Shellback that will find me and my wog friends in our hiding place. A big, tall, dark officer found us, somewhere around dawn. He was dressed in purple and had a mighty arm, that's all I remember. We crawled all over the ship an his command, yelling at times "Cock a doodle do, wake up Samuel Gompers", and, "I'm Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs". (both his choices.)
Sadly, for me, I forgot to get gloves. We crawled a little to close to the engine room level, and the metal floor was hot enough to blister my hands. Purple officer got us out of there and took us down to the 'wog pool', a section of passageway filled with salt water. Here, my bloggy friends, is where my blisters broke open, allowing salt water to flow freely over tender skin. HOLY HELL.
Because I was injured, purple officer set me aside, with my friend Todd's bitch girlfriend who was whining. (I was not whining, I wanted to bea shellback!). My hands were seen to, we went on our way. I was taken to 'wog breakfast'. (Green stuff in a bucket), then, up to the flight deck for the main event. Once there, I passed through the trash shoot (twice, so that a friend could get a picture), then I had to pull the cherry out of the greased belly button of Davy Jones. All around me, other wogs were suffering the same fate. Eventually, I found my way to a smaller salt water pool, where, once I was dunked in, I was no longer a lowly wog, but a Shell Back. Then, my whole uniform was ceremoniously dumped over the side of the ship, and I was free to shower, and wash the 2 week old spaghetti out of my hair.
I'm so proud of my certificate. My one sadness is, I never got to cross the equator again, as a Shellback, to beat virgin Wogs. (But it wasn't worth re-enlisting for).

GO NAVY, BEAT ARMY!

Now leave me alone, I'm watching the game. . .

post game edit

WHOOO-HOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
38 NAVY

3 ARMY!

I love me some Midshipmen!
we destroyed the Army, for the SIXTH year in a row!

I wish I could somehow explain to you all how much goes into this game. Everything stops for these few precious hours. Every eye is pinned to the television. Bragging rights are at stake. All the Navy bases, all the Army bases. I never personally miss this game day, and I remember how it felt to lose. BUT THAT WAS 7 YEARS AGO!!
LOVE THE MIDSHIPMEN!
Hell, I even had a bet with someone this year that involved a tattoo. (I knew my Middie's wouldn't let me down).

And now, I will have a huge smile on my face, ALL DAY LONG.

thanks, Midshipmen!