All posts by Jim

A Tale of the Sea and Me: Headed to Vung Tau with a Few Detours

Anchorage had been underway from Numazu for a couple of hours when we received a radio message from the chain of command. It directed us, rather than going to Vung Tau, to stop in Okinawa at the Navy’s base on White Beach. Studying the message, we decided they must want us to unload some of the equipment that couldn’t possibly be used in the evacuation of Vietnam, with the code name (Hah!) “Frequent Wind.”

We arrived in just over two days pulling into the pier mid-morning. After we had tied up, two Marine colonels came aboard and were escorted to the Captain’s cabin. Shortly afterward, the petty officer of the watch passed the word on the 1MC, “First Lieutenant, report to the Captain’s Cabin.”

I climbed the ladders to the Captain’s Cabin and entered. CDR Aldana introduced me to the two Marine colonels. One was from CINCPACFLT to observe all that was happening. The other was the Marine Amphibious Unit (MAU) Commander. He was a thin man of medium height with the marine buzzcut, a pencil thin mustache with a swagger stick by his side.

He immediately dashed my hopes of an offload. He wanted to add more. I was flabbergasted. “Where?” i thought, This is crazy.” i looked toward CDR Aldana. It has been a long time, but I don’t think he actually said anything to me, but from his head nods and gestures toward me, i knew he was giving me the okay to go head to head with the MAU commander.

“Colonel, sir,” I began, “We are overloaded now. Our flight deck is jammed with flood light trailers and medical vehicles. Our ramps are not designed to carry equipment, but ours from the main deck to the mezzanine deck and the mezzanine deck to the well deck are full.”

“The colonel was unfazed, “We have to load this equipment! We must maintain unit integrity.”

My argument was not going well. I said, “But sir, I understand the need to keep the MAU and its equipment together, but you can’t possibly use all the trucks that are loaded with heavy weather gear in an evacuation in a tropical climate. You certainly know more about your MAU than I do. I do not understand why you need 24 tanks to conduct an evacuation.”

I felt like I was not going to win this battle. Then, I received some help from an unexpected source. The colonel from CINCPACFLT, fortunately senior to the MAU Commander, prodded the swagger stick colonel and said, “You know he’s right, John. We can bring everything back here and reestablish the MAU’s integrity when the evacuation is over.”

Swagger Stick got a dejected look. He conceded and told me (and the CO) to offload the heavy weather gear trucks and about half of the tanks. I was elated.

Of course, that ended up being a 22-hour offload. The ramps were clear, but the flight deck was still crammed with vehicles. As soon as we finished the offload, we got underway around 1600. I breathed a sigh of relief.

But within four hours of heading south in the Philippine Sea, we received yet another radio message. We were return to coast of Okinawa where a CH-46 helicopter would land on our flight deck and be carried to the evacuation.

We were back to scrambling as we reversed course, moving equipment, heavy equipment in the open sea, not the most comforting event to encounter at sea. The ramps which once held the M54 trucks with heavy weather gear now had medical vehicles and flood light trailers, secured with the greatest jury rig of tie downs one might imagine.

But we cleared the flight deck proper even though there was equipment stacked right up to the demarcation line for the actual helo landing spot. As we tied down the last vehicle, we received a message from the helo. I donned my safety vest and flight quarters helmet. I was now the Air Officer, but more of a safety observer as my Landing Signalman Enlisted (LSE) did the tough job of directing the landing of the CH-46 on a small spot on a rolling LSD in the open sea.

Success. We once again headed south. We should have had time to get to Vung Tau and distribute our load amongst the other amphibs before the evacuation.

Of course, there was another monkey wrench thrown into the works. A typhoon was developing in the South China Sea. The Navy weather guessers erring on the side of caution did not want the Anchorage to get caught in the storm. We were ordered to go east of the Philippine Islands and wind through the islands The Anchorage turned west before Samar, passing north of Panay and Mindoro and sliding up the west coast of Luzon into the US Naval Base at Subic Bay.

When we arrived in Subic, we were informed we had to wait a bit longer after the typhoon had cleared as there were sailors flying in from the states and would ride us to Vung Tau for transfer to their next duty stations. So our delay was extended again.

We went across the South China Sea with an Speed of Advance (SOA) faster than normal, attempting to get there before the evacuation started. But the delays kept us from our goal. Frequent Wind began on April 29 and began in earnest April 30. We arrived in the early morning, Thursday, May 1 and went to our assigned anchorage.

Our problem was the entire Task Force 76 was engaged with the extreme volume of helicopters and small craft bringing out refugees, both American embassy folks from Saigon and others using every means of escape.

We were hogtied. The Anchorage was so full of vehicles we were stymied. We could not take on evacuees. This may have been a good thing in that our captain was more concerned about security than helping the refugees. He had devised a plan to put all of the evacuees in the well deck in essentially tents and manning the wing walls with fire hoses in case problems arose.

I wanted so much to be involved in the evacuation but was glad we would not take on any evacuees with those plans. We launched our LCM8s to assist in helping the refugees find a Navy ship that could accomodate them.

No, my job was to watch.

Listed below are the Navy ships/commands involved in Operation Frequent Wind and the subsequent recovery of refugees fleeing their country.

Relief from Morose, ThankYou, Otis

The Southwest Corner, Sunday, June 22, 2025. My dear bride of forty-two years has had a good day going to an art show in North County with two friends. The show featured the artwork of Jaci Springfield, another friend of the group. They had a great time, and fortunately, Maureen didn’t buy a great deal of stuff.

i too had a good day but it was at home getting things done i’ve intended to get done for about…oh, let’s say five years to be safe. Of course, i took a nap. After the nap and a few more chores, i repaired to our patio and called my friend of all friends, George Henry Harding, V, perpetually a resident of 218 South Tarver, where i spent more time than at my home. We were christened together in May of 1945 at the Lebanon First Methodist Church, then on East Main.

As i have noted here frequently, talking to Henry every month or so is simply resuming where we left off before. It always amazes me how two guys from the same place who went on to completely different life experiences still think the same about everything, everything. It’s sort of like looking in a mirror.

When we hung up, i got a little nostalgic, a little sad. My old hometown isn’t old anymore, and isn’t a small town anymore. It’s changed, but i still miss it and my friends there who are still around. Especially, i miss not talking with Henry every day. He and Brenda have a great back porch for talking to old friends — the porch wasn’t there when i romped with Henry and his brother Jim (i still call him Beetle) in that backyard.

Yeh, a little sad i felt. Homesick, i guess we could call it. For a few moments, i was down. Then, sitting on that patio as the patio, looking up at the landscape and the sun as it set over the slope toward the Pacific. i reached over and turned on the bluetooth speaker for my music library. i set it to listen to only Otis Redding.

My Vanderbilt Kappa Sigma brothers who loved Soul music as much as i, led by Cy Fraser, went to concerts in the old Nashville Municipal Auditorium to see Otis at least four times. Then, on a magical Saturday night, actually Sunday morning, Cy and i went to the Club Baron, a black night club on Jefferson Street in North Nashville. It was our place to go when it was quiet around campus. Otis had been the headliner for an earlier show downtown. We were there to watch the really superb artists that were regulars when around 1:00 a.m., Otis comes in with several members of his bands and puts on an impromptu show for about 45 minutes. i was in heaven.

After that night, when i was working to pay my way through MTSU, i played Otis as much as i could when i deejayed at WCOR in 65-67. i played his records at home even more.

When that wonderful phase of my life concluded, i packed up and headed to Newport, Rhode Island for Navy OCS (September 1967). i don’t know how i did this, but i somehow managed to secret a small portable record player in the locker in my barracks room, shared with the legendary Doc Jarden. On Thursday, December 7, we learned Otis had died in in a plane crash the night before. Doc was as big a fan of Otis as i was and equally saddened by the news.

In an even bigger mystery today, we pulled out that record player, and a record i had also brought and smuggled into the barracks, “The History of Otis Redding.” We started playing right after taps and finally turned it off around 2:00 a.m.

Listening to Otis, now on a bluetooth with Apple music playing all of his songs, my homesickness dropped off. i put my phone aside and looked out on my world in the Southwest corner. All was well.

After all, i had Otis Redding songs for listening, and i have Henry to lean on.

Mixed Feelings

Our new next door neighbors, Vincent, Judith, and their son Vincent will move into their home in about a year

They are doing significant renovations to the acre-plus yard and the house. i have watched with interest and have established a good relationship with the site managers, bulldozer and back hoe drivers, and the other workers of which there many: hard working men. There are no accountants back there, no finance folks, no insurers, not computer wizards, just hard workers. It is fun to watch. i do.

Of particular interest to me in the past few days have been the stone masons (i guess they are still called that). They are putting a facade of stone on the chimneys and perhaps the entire exterior. It looks as though it will be beautiful when finished. It also requires unique hard work and art. The scaffold rises about forty feet to the top of the chimney. The stone cutting saw sits on the top rung of the scaffold. The worker hauls up the stone pieces in a bucket with a pulley. He measures and cuts the stones to fit closely together, fits them, and then uses mortar to glue them in place. It is fascinating.

i became more and more enamored with the requirements to do it right and the rigorous physical requirements to get it done.

Then around 10:00 a.m. this morning, i went to the kitchen to clean out my coffee French press. As i began to rinse it out, i looked toward the chimney. There, this hard working mason was taking his mid-morning break. i kept fooling around in the kitchen as i watched him eat at least three tamales. Then after finishing his break meal (snack?). He laid out on the fourth level slats of the scaffold and took a half-hour nap.

So much for hard work.

Father

i could post several hundred more photos of him and still not capture his essence. i miss him every day. He was loved by everyone who knew him, especially his children, his grandchildren, his great grandchildren, and lord knows how many children he claimed and loved. Happy Fathers Day, Daddy…and Thanks.

Gulfport MS May 1944

And then there was this o

Jimmy Jewell on his first date with Estelle Jewell, 1933.

About every person under 18 and one over that: me when i was about fifty, sat with him in his recliner and watched TV. A precious memory for all of us.

And then there was this other father of mine. Thanks, Ray.