Thursday, December 29, 2016

Fw: TheList 4347




The List 4347
To All,
I hope you all had a great Christmas with your families.
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This Day In Naval History - December 26
1862 - Four nuns who were volunteer nurses on board Red Rover were the first female nurses on a U.S. Navy hospital ship.
1943 - Seventh Amphibious Force lands 1st Marine Division on Cape Gloucester, New Britain.
 
Today in History December 25
Merry Christmas!Christmas is the festival celebrating the birth of Christ and is observed in most countries on December 25. Christmas is sometimes called Yule (from the Anglo-Saxon) or Noel (from the French). Christian churches throughout the world hold special services on Christmas Day to give thanks for the birth of Christ. In addition to religious observances, Christmas is a time of merrymaking and feasting. North American customs are a combination of those of the various European countries from which the original settlers came. On Christmas Eve children hang stockings for Santa Claus to fill with gifts. The Christmas tree, usually an evergreen, was first used in Germany. Topped with a star or spire and decorated with colored lights and shiny ornaments, the tree plays an important part in the celebration. Mistletoe was sacred to the Druids, priests of ancient Britain and Gaul. The Norse used holly and the Yule log to keep away evil spirits. Gifts were exchanged during the Roman celebration of the Saturnalia, a feast to the god Saturn. Gift-giving came to symbolize the gifts brought to the Christ Child by the Magi. The most popular Christmas legend however, is that of Santa Claus, whose name came from Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of children. Many of the qualities that Santa Claus is known for came from Clement C. Moore's poem "A Visit From St. Nicholas."
376
In Milan, Ambrose, the Bishop of Milan, forces the emperor Theodosius to perform public penance for his massacre.
800
The pope crowns Charlemagne emperor in Rome.
1066
William I is crowned king of England.
1621
The governor of New Plymouth prevents newcomers from playing cards.
1651
The General Court of Boston levies a five shilling fine on anyone caught "observing any such day as Christmas."
1776
Patriot General George Washington crosses the Delaware River with 5,400 troops during the American Revolution. Washington hoped to surprise a Hessian force celebrating Christmas at their winter quarters in Trenton, New Jersey.
1861
Stonewall Jackson spends Christmas with his wife; their last together.
1862
John Hunt Morgan and his raiders clash with Union forces near Bear Wallow, Kentucky.
1862
President and Mrs. Lincoln visit hospitals in the Washington D.C. area on this Christmas Day.
1912
Italy lands troops in Albania to protect its interests during a revolt there.
1914
German and British troops on the Western Front declare an unofficial truce to celebrate Christmas during World War I.
1918
A revolt erupts in Berlin.
1925
U.S. troops in Nicaragua disarm insurgents in support of the Diaz regime.
1927
The Mexican congress opens land to foreign investors, reversing the 1917 ban enacted to preserve the domestic economy.
1939
Finnish troops enter Soviet territory.
1941
Free French troops occupy the French Islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon off the Canadian coast.
1944
Prime Minister Winston Churchill goes to Athens to seek an end to the Greek civil war.
1946
Chiang Kai-shek offers a new Chinese constitution in Nanking pledging universal suffrage.
1950
Scottish nationalists steal the Stone of Scone from the British coronation throne in Westminster Abbey. The 485 pound stone was recovered in April 1951.
1962
The Bay of Pigs captives, upon their return to the United States, vow to return to Cuba and topple Fidel Castro.
1965
Entertainer Chris Noel gives her first performance for the USO at two hospitals in California; became a star on Armed Forces Radio and Television, entertaining troops in Vietnam; in 1984 Veterans Network honored her with a Distinguished Vietnam Veteran award.
1973
U.S. astronauts onboard the Skylab space station take a seven-hour walk in space and photograph the comet Kohoutek.
1976
Over 100 Muslims, returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca, die when their boat sinks.
1979
Egypt begins major restoration of the Sphinx.
1991
Mikhail Gorbachev, the Soviet Union's first and last executive president, resigns. The Soviet Union no longer exsists.
2006
James Brown, the "Godfather of Soul", dies at age 73.
 
 
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Battle of the Bulge | Christmas 1944 | Videos
 
Thanks to Ben -
 
Merry Christmas everyone! As we enjoy our holidays, remember 70 years ago at this time, our military was in a desperate fight for their lives. I recommend the following link to advance your historical knowledge.
Ben
 
 
 
Another from Carl
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Thanks to Dutch and the Bear
A Fighter Pilot Dream Come True: "A Kill" – Rolling Thunder Remembered
So the rolling artwork won't be lost, instead of my pasting the website page, please go directly to the hyperlink at the bottom -
 
the 20 December "Fighter Pilot's Dream" has been reposted in it's entirety. Dutch... also, my brilliant webmaster "Mighty Thunder" has converted the site's "rolling artwork" into a contender for an Internet top ten Christmas greeting of the season...  
 
 
.... "Merry Christmas from Bear's mountain in Utah"...... thanks.... 
and a special ho-ho-ho to you old warriors ... Bear
 
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Fun Stuff from Fighter Sweep
 
 
Watch: How Low Can You Go? Incredible Fighter Jet Low Passes – Enjoy!
 
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From the Vintage Wings of Canada
Frederick Forsythe is a world renowned author whose first book The Day of the Jackal was a best seller and the father of the action type of novel. In fact that book and the rest of his novels were written from personal experiences I have read them all. He was a spy for the British in the Cold war and is fluent in five languages. His latest autobiography is out and is a fascinating read. He was also the youngest person ever to receive his RAF pilots wings.
This story is well worth the time to read especially if you are a pilot.
skip
Frederick Forsythe's The Shepherd
In Canada, it has become a Christmas tradition for nearly forty years to listen to a recording of on Christmas Eve. For the past six years, it has been our tradition to tell people of this remarkable story and lead them to the radio play. It is a story that can be listened to a hundred times. Follow this link to learn more:
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Copyright © Vintage News Updates 2015
 
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Monday morning thoughts from Al
 
This true story (per the 1999 book, Echoes of the Maggid) is worth more than all the jokes that I send each week.  It shows that if we open our minds, we can make this year a better place to live here on earth...
     In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children.
     Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main-streamed into conventional schools.
     At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?
     The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child.  "He then told the following story about his son Shaya:
     One afternoon, Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?"
     Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates.
     Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."
     Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly.
     Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base.
     Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?
     Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact.
     The first pitch came and Shaya swung clumsily and missed.
     One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.
     The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game.
     Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.
     Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first."
     Never in his life had Shaya run to first.
     He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the Third baseman's head.
     Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.
     As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
     "That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."
    
 
his true story (per the 1999 book, Echoes of the Maggid) is worth more than all the jokes that I send each week.  It shows that if we open our minds, we can make this year a better place to live here on earth...
     In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children.
     Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main-streamed into conventional schools.
     At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?
     The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child.  "He then told the following story about his son Shaya:
     One afternoon, Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?"
     Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates.
     Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."
     Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly.
     Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base.
     Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?
     Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact.
     The first pitch came and Shaya swung clumsily and missed.
     One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.
     The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game.
     Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.
     Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first."
     Never in his life had Shaya run to first.
     He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the Third baseman's head.
     Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.
     As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
     "That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."
    
Submitted by John Hudson:
     I dreamt that I went to Heaven and an angel was showing me around. We walked side-by-side inside a large workroom filled with angels. My angel guide stopped in front of the first section and said, "This is the Receiving Section. Here, all petitions to God said in prayer are received."
     I looked around in this area, and it was terribly busy with so many angels sorting out petitions written on voluminous paper sheets and scraps from people all over the world.
     Then we moved on down a long corridor until we reached the second section.  The angel then said to me, "This is the Packaging and Delivery Section. Here, the graces and blessings the people asked for are processed and delivered to the living persons who asked for them." I noticed again how busy it was there. There were many angels working hard at that station, since so many blessings had been requested and were being packaged for delivery to Earth.
     Finally, at the farthest end of the long corridor we stopped at the door of a very small station. To my great surprise, only one angel was seated there, idly doing nothing. "This is the Acknowledgment Section," my angel friend quietly admitted to me. He seemed embarrassed.
     "How is it that there is no work going on here?" I asked.
     "So sad," the angel sighed. "After people receive the blessings that they asked for, very few send back acknowledgments."
     "How does one acknowledge God's blessings?" I asked.
     "Simple," the angel answered. Just say, "Thank you, Lord."
     "What blessings should they acknowledge?" I asked.
     "If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of this world. If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy, and if you get this on your own computer, you are part of the 1% in the world who has that opportunity."
     "If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the many who will not even survive this day."
     "If you have never experienced the fear in battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation, you are ahead of 700 million people in the world."
     "If you can attend a church without the fear of harassment, arrest, torture or death, you are envied by, and more blessed than, three billion people in the world."
     "If you can hold your head up and smile, you are not the norm, you're unique to all those in doubt and despair......."
     "Ok," I said. "What now? How can I start?"
     The Angel said, "If you can read this message, you just received a double blessing in that someone was thinking of you as very special and you are more blessed than over two billion people in the world who cannot read at all."
     Have a good day, count your blessings, and if you care to, pass this along to remind everyone else how blessed we all are...but for now, I offer the following:
ATTN:  Acknowledge  Dept.
Thank you Lord, for giving me the ability to share this message and for giving me so many wonderful people with whom to share it.
     Thank God for everything, especially all your family and friends.
     Faith is not about everything turning out OK; Faith is about being OK no matter how things turn out.
     If you woke up this morning with more health than illness...you are more fortunate than the million who will not survive this week.
     If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation ... you are ahead of 500 million people in the world.
     If you can attend a church meeting without fear of harassment, arrest, torture, or death...you are more blessed than three billion people in the world.
     If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep...you are richer than 75% of this world.
     If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish someplace, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy.
     If your parents are still alive and still married...you are very rare, even in the United States.
     If you hold up your head with a smile on your face and are truly thankful...you are fortunate because the majority can, but most do not.
     If you can hold someone's hand, hug them or even touch them on the shoulder, you are blessed because you can offer healing touch.
     If you can read this message, you just received a double blessing in that someone was thinking of you, and furthermore, you are more fortunate than over two billion people in the world that cannot read at all.
     Have a great year, count your blessings, and pass this along to remind everyone else how fortunate we all are.
Instructions for Life
Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
When you lose, don't lose the lesson.
Follow the three Rs:    Respect for self.  Respect for others.  Responsibility for all your actions.
Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.
Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
Spend some time alone every day.
Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.
Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll be able to enjoy it a second time.
A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don't bring up the past.
Share your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality.
Be gentle with the earth.
Once a year, go someplace you've never been before.
Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.
Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon.
As we face a new year, I recall visiting with three old friends, this past June, at a park in the nation's capital.
     It seems like only yesterday that we were all together, but actually it has been 45 years.  There was a crowd at the park that day, and it took us a while to connect, but with the aid of a book we made it.  I found Harry, Bruce and Paul.
     In 1970-72 we were gung-ho young fighter pilots on America and Constellation off Vietnam, the cream of the crop of the U.S. Navy, flying F-4J Phantoms.  Now their names are on that 500-foot-long Vietnam War Memorial.  I am hesitant to visit the wall when I'm in Washington DC because I don't trust myself to keep my composure.
     Standing in front of that somber wall, I tried to keep it light, telling my son and his family about the war, reminiscing about how things were back then.  We used to joke about our passionate love affair with an inanimate flying object-we flew.  We marveled at the thought that we actually got paid to do it.  We were not draftees but college graduates in Vietnam by choice, opting for the cramped confines of a jet fighter cockpit over the comfort of corporate America.  In all my life I've not been so passionate about any other work.  If that sounds like an exaggeration, then you've never danced the wild blue with a supersonic angel.  To fight for your country is an honor.
     I vividly remember leaving my family and friends in San Diego headed for Vietnam. I wondered if I would live to see them again.  For reasons I still don't understand, I was fortunate to return while others did not.
     Once in Vietnam, we passed the long, lonely hours in Alert 5, the ready room, our staterooms or the Cubi O'Club. The complaint heard most often, in the standard gallows humor of a combat squadron, was, "It's a lousy war, but it's the only one we have." (I've cleaned up the language a bit.) We sang mostly raunchy songs that never seemed to end-someone was always writing new verses-and, as an antidote to loneliness, fear in the night and the sadness over dead friends, we often drank too much.
     At the wall, I told the guys only about the good parts of the years since we've been apart.  I talked of those who went on to command squadrons.  Those who made Captain and flag rank.  I asked them if they've seen some other squadronmates who have joined them.
     I didn't tell them about how ostracized Vietnam vets still are.  I didn't relate how the media had implied we Vietnam vets were, to quote one syndicated columnist, "either suckers or psychos, victims or monsters." I didn't tell them that Hanoi Jane, who shot at us and helped torture our POWs, had married one of the richest guys in the United States.  I didn't tell them that the secretary of defense they fought for back then has now declared that he was not a believer in the cause for which he assigned them all to their destiny.  I didn't tell them that the current Navy is bogged down with social programs deemed necessary by those who have never served.
     And I didn't tell them we "lost" that lousy war.  I gave them the same story I've used for years: We were winning when I left.  I relived that final day as I stared at the black onyx wall.  After 267 combat missions, we were leaving the South China Sea…heading east.  The excitement of that day was only exceeded by coming into the break at Miramar, knowing that my wife, my two boys, my parents and other friends and family were waiting to welcome me home.
     I was not the only one talking to the wall through tears.  Folks in fatigues, leather vests, motorcycle jackets, flight jackets lined the wall talking to friends.  I walked the length of the wall twice.  The wall, with all 58,307 names, consumed my field of vision.  I tried to wrap my mind around the violence, carnage and ruined lives that it represented.  Then I thought of how Vietnam was only one small war in the history of the human race.  I was overwhelmed with a sense of mankind's wickedness balanced against some men and women's willingness to serve.
     Before becoming a spectacle to my family, I walked saying goodbye to my friends as if I could communicate with them through some kind of spiritual thought process.
     I wanted them to know that God, duty, honor and country will always remain the noblest calling.  Revisionist history from elite draft dodgers trying to justify and rationalize their own actions will never change that.
     I believe I have been a productive member of society since the day I left Vietnam.  I am honored to have served there, and I am especially proud of my friends, no, heroes who voluntarily, enthusiastically gave their all.  They demonstrated no greater love to a nation whose highbrow opinion makers are still trying to disavow them.  May their names, indelibly engraved on that memorial wall, likewise be found in the Book of Life.  I ask you to remember that throughout the new year.
     As an afterthought, I find it funny how simple it is for people to trash different ways of living and believing and then wonder why the world is going to hell.
     Funny how you can send a thousand 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding life choices, people think twice about sharing.
     Funny how the lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but the public discussion of morality is suppressed in the school and workplace.
     Funny isn't it?
     Funny how when you go to forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it to them.
     Funny how I can be more worried about what other people think of me than what I think of me.
I wish you a happy, healthy and prosperous 2017,
Al
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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