[CW] The "slap slap" of Morse lamps

Tue Mar 20 17:17:14 EDT 2012

Not only did you sleep on the ground outside .... But it was in January with tracer bulletts going overhead .... 

Whitey  K1VV  

----- Original Message -----

From: "James M. Walker" <chejmw at buffalo.edu> 
To: "CW Reflector" <cw at mailman.qth.net> 
Sent: Tuesday, March 20, 2012 8:31:37 AM 
Subject: Re: [CW] The "slap slap" of Morse lamps 

"HEAR, HEAR", same goes for the combat arms, 
of the U.S. Army. I have had people lately say 
things like, "You slept on the "Ground?"", or "You 
walked everywhere you went, "What no cars"? 

What the heck does that mean??? 

Jim 
WB2FCN 

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Radio K0HB" <kzerohb at gmail.com> 
To: "CWOPS" <cwops at yahoogroups.com>; "CW Reflector" <cw at mailman.qth.net> 
Sent: Monday, March 19, 2012 6:14 PM 
Subject: [CW] The "slap slap" of Morse lamps 

by Bob ‘Dex’ Armstrong 

I saw a piece in a popular magazine awhile ago. It said that the 
United States Coast Guard had ceased to teach Morse Code. With all the 
super techno whizbang communication equipment around these days, I 
guess ‘dits’ and ‘dahs’ are looked upon as primitive communication. 

That’s a damn pity because there is no more comforting sound than the 
rythmic slap of the signal light shutters. Watching a competent 
signalman operate a signal light, to me beats watching a concert 
violinist or an Olympic medal-winning ice skater. 

There was something about nighttime steaming, transiting the open 
expanse of the world’s oceans and exchanging seemingly meaningless 
flashes of light that in truth, were an exchange of clear, concise 
messages. The signalman and the gentle click of the signal light 
shutter louvers… 

"Sir, that’s the J. W. WEEKS, DD-701." 

"Very well. Ask them if LT Al Timberlake is aboard… I went to the 
academy with Big Al." 

"Aye sir…" 

"Yessir, he’s aboard… LT CDR now." 

"Very well. Tell them to relay my compliments and tell Big Al that 
‘Short Stack’ passed him during the midwatch." 

Little messages exchanged in darkness. Communication between members 
of America’s great saltwater family. Those fingers of light always 
made me feel that I was a part of a big organization. 

Things that were so much a part of our life, have gone out of 
existence in the ensuing years. They tell me that torpedomen and 
quartermasters have joined gunners mates in the lost ratings of 
yesteryear. 

I know nothing lasts forever and that there’s nothing worse to 
subsequent generations than an old bastard reliving cherished memories 
of the past. But with the navy looking to boost its recruiting, it 
might be beneficial to revisit some of the things that were so 
meaningful to the bluejackets who manned our ships long ago. 

Tradition is a valuable asset… Not that to honor tradition, you have 
to set aside technological advance… Not at all. But many of the 
‘sailor skills’ are being discounted. Consider this… In battle, when 
you lose power and your computer-generated mo-jo is lost, or your 
batteries run out… Or the enemy detonates some hootenanny that scrubs 
your database… Will there be anyone who can take a legitimate sextant 
observation? 

What happens if the bad guys find a way to negate satellite 
positioning? What happens to the poor bastards bobbing around in a 
lifeboat with a signalman and an operating flashlight? 

How can you call a man an American bluejacket who can’t tie a bowline 
or read flags? At some point, you stop being a bluejacket and become a 
technician. That’s a sad fact, but a fact, nonetheless. 

The navy used to sell salt water adventure. It used to fill its 
recruiting offices with posters of smiling bluejackets visiting exotic 
ports… Ships at sea… Extolling the qualities found in elite service 
like submarines. 

Now, you see posters promising monetary incentives, education benefits 
and pledges of high-level technical training. It is not an ‘All for 
the Navy’ navy, anymore. It’s a ‘What’s in it for me?’ navy. You can 
see the effect on the boatservice… Interchangeable crews… That’s like 
a shared bride. 

Somebody needs to reinitiate the concept of ‘a lad and his boat’. I 
see nuclear power sailors with the names of a dozen boats embroidered 
on their vests. How can a lad develop love and loyalty to twelve 
boats? Simple answer… He can’t. 

We need to figure out some way of reconnecting men with ships. We need 
to develop, to reestablish the relationship between sailors and their 
ships. We need to shitcan the term, ‘Get my ticket punched on such and 
such a ship.’ I find the term ‘ticket punched’ repulsive. I rode with 
men who truly loved the ship. She has been ours for better than 45 
years and will continue to be until the day we leave the planet. It is 
sad that with the ‘interchangeable parts’ commands of today, a 
boatsailor doesn’t develop the love we were given. 

But, as I said earlier, there’s nothing worse than a nostalgic old 
coot who’s out of step with the march of time… An old sonuvabitch 
whose era has come and gone. 

But you can’t fault a man who loved his service… The men… His 
wardroom… His boat. An old bastard who can still hear the gentle slap, 
slap, slap of the bridge signal light shutters. 

73, de Hans, K0HB 
"Just a boy and his radio" 
-- 
Sea stories at --------> http://k0hb.wordpress.com 
Superstition trails ---> http://oldslowhans.wordpress.com 
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