Saw this in another venue. It has absolutely nothing to do with Amateur Radio,
but struck a chord.

The Slap Slap of Signal Light Shutters

--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 sal****er 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 *******
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 *******s 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 ****can 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 ******* who can still hear the gentle slap, slap, slap of the
bridge signal light shutters.
--
{{{{* http://www.home.earthlink.net/~k0hb

KØHB wrote:
Saw this in another venue. It has absolutely nothing to do with Amateur Radio,
but struck a chord.

The Slap Slap of Signal Light Shutters

--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.
hacking for breifity

the SCA (www,sca,org) for more details is one a several gruops that
prevervses and revives old tech indeed theire are old tech I find
interesting the rsult of which is that I am likely the best swordsmen
that pots in RRAP (I know BTW I am not the best swordsman in the Us ARS
but that is another matter)

but the obsesion of many hams with the past which would be a passing
matter it not for the fforts of some to contiues to try and enclude it
in the regs of the ARS and assign public RF to it, must be looked at in
terms of the golas of the service which inculding advancing the state
of the radio art enough of history lessions can we give those a rest at
least for month or so then maybe someone new will come by and n"need"
to be educated on all the obselete stuff that is gone on about

Hans,

I see the VFW is back to regular hours after the holiday stand-down?

Hans's sea stories are boring, but your stories are always rude and mostly unreadable. What the he11 are "golas" and "fforts", and I never saw a "lession" on history --- mayhap the lesion is on your temporal lobe?

an Old friend wrote:
KØHB wrote:
Saw this in another venue. It has absolutely nothing to do with Amateur Radio,
but struck a chord.

The Slap Slap of Signal Light Shutters

--by Bob 'Dex' Armstrong

I saw a piece in a popular magazine awhile ago. It said that the UnitedStates
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.

hacking for breifity

Everything you write is hacked, Markie...It's a result of your
dysfunctional English skills. And it's "b r e v i t y".....

the SCA (www,sca,org) for more details is one a several gruops that
prevervses and revives old tech indeed theire are old tech I find
interesting the rsult of which is that I am likely the best swordsmen
that pots in RRAP (I know BTW I am not the best swordsman in the Us ARS
but that is another matter)

Was this supposed to be a paragraph? A Sentence? Was there a
point? And Markie, no safety-concious person in their right mind is
going to let you be in the room with a sword, let alon let you play
with one.

but the obsesion of many hams with the past which would be a passing
matter it not for the fforts of some to contiues to try and enclude it
in the regs of the ARS and assign public RF to it, must be looked at in
terms of the golas of the service which inculding advancing the state
of the radio art enough of history lessions can we give those a rest at
least for month or so then maybe someone new will come by and n"need"
to be educated on all the obselete stuff that is gone on about

101 "words" without a point being made.

101 "words" without proper punctuation, capitalization or
organization of thought or topic.

In other words...A waste of our time trying to read it and your
time putting it here.

Steve, K4YZ

K4YZ wrote: More Markie Mularkie

lie therefore child abuse therefulsh the rest

"Iitoi" wrote in message
...

an Old friend Wrote:

but the obsesion of many hams with the past which would be a passing
matter it not for the fforts of some to contiues to try and enclude it
in the regs of the ARS and assign public RF to it, must be looked at
in
terms of the golas of the service which inculding advancing the state
of the radio art enough of history lessions can we give those a rest
at
least for month or so then maybe someone new will come by and n"need"
to be educated on all the obselete stuff that is gone on about

Hans's sea stories are boring, but your stories are always rude and
mostly unreadable. What the he11 are "golas" and "fforts", and I never
saw a "lession" on history --- mayhap the lesion is on your temporal
lobe?


--
Iitoi

The Slap Slap upside An Old F*****'s head.

flsuhing the ****

From: K0HB on Jan 3, 8:30 am


Saw this in an alternate time-space continuum. Strange how
parallel universes are so similar. It has absolutely nothing to
do with Amateur Radio, only that of the subject of
communications.

================================================== ===

The Flap Flap of Signal Flags

by Cole Evans Squier

I saw a piece in Signal magazine awhile ago. It said that the
United States Army Signal Corps had ceased to teach Morse Code.
With all the super techno-whizbang communication equipment around
these days such as "radio", I guess 'lefts' and 'rights' of
signal flags are looked upon as primitive communication.

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

There was something about nighttime signaling, using torches
instead of the flags, across the open expanse of the battlefield.
The signalman and the gentle whoosh whoosh of lit signal torches.

"Sir, that's the 21st Brigade of the First Cav!"

"Very well. Ask them if LT Bill Lumberstream is there. I went
to the Point with Big Bill."

"Yes sir."

"Yessir, he's there. Major now."

"Very well. Tell them to relay my compliments and tell Big
Bill that 'Tall Tales' has the commo officer duty over here."

Little messages exchanged in darkness. Communication between
members of America's great land warrior 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 mounted cavalrymen
are the lost ratings of yesteryear. I know nothing lasts forever
and that there's nothing worse to subsequent generations than an
old ******* reliving cherished memories of the past. But with the
Army looking to boost its recruiting, it might be beneficial to
revisit some of the things that were so meaningful to the grunts
who manned our lines 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 'soldier 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 RDFs on that
new-fangled radio and pin-points your position. Will there be
anyone who can find their position with just a map and compass?

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

How can you call a man an American soldier who can't tie a
granny knot or read flags? At some point, you stop being a
grunt and become a technician. That's a sad fact, but a
fact, nonetheless.

The Army used to sell action adventure. It used to fill its
recruiting offices with posters of smiling soldiers visiting
exotic countries. Extolling the qualities found in an elite
service like Special Forces. Now you see posters promising
monetary incentives, education benefits and pledges of high-level
technical training. It is not an 'Army of One' Army, anymore.
It's a 'What's in it for me?' Army. You can see the effect on
the armored forces. Interchangeable crews. That's like a
shared bride.

Somebody needs to reinitiate the concept of 'a lad and his
track'. I see armor crews with the names of a dozen tracks
stenciled on their flak vests. How can a lad develop love and
loyalty to twelve tanks? Simple answer. He can't.

We need to figure out some way of reconnecting men with the
land. We need to develop, to reestablish the relationship
between soldiers and their units.

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
mess hall. His unit. An old ******* who can still hear the
gentle flap, flap, flap of the signal flags on a hilltop.

===============================================

From: K0HB on Jan 3, 8:30 am


Saw this in another time-space continuum. It has absolutely nothing
to do with Amateur Radio, but struck a chord.


The Flap Flap of Signal Flags

by Cole Evans Squier


I saw a piece in Signal magazine awhile ago. It said that the
United States Army Signal Corps had ceased to teach Morse Code.
With all the super techno-whizbang communication equipment around
these days such as "radio", I guess 'lefts' and 'rights' of
signal flags are looked upon as primitive communication.

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

There was something about nighttime signaling, using torches
instead of the flags, across the open expanse of the battlefield.
The signalman and the gentle whoosh whoosh of lit signal torches.

"Sir, that's the 21st Brigade of the First Cav!"

"Very well. Ask them if LT Bill Lumberstream is there. I went
to the Point with Big Bill."

"Yes sir."

"Yessir, he's there. Major now."

"Very well. Tell them to relay my compliments and tell Big
Bill that 'Tall Tales' has the commo officer duty over here."

Little messages exchanged in darkness. Communication between
members of America's great land warrior 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 mounted cavalrymen
are the lost ratings of yesteryear. I know nothing lasts forever
and that there's nothing worse to subsequent generations than an
old ******* reliving cherished memories of the past. But with the
Army looking to boost its recruiting, it might be beneficial to
revisit some of the things that were so meaningful to the grunts
who manned our lines 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 'soldier 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 RDFs on that
new-fangled radio and pin-points your position. Will there be
anyone who can find their position with just a map and compass?

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

How can you call a man an American soldier who can't tie a
granny knot or read flags? At some point, you stop being a
grunt and become a technician. That's a sad fact, but a
fact, nonetheless.

The Army used to sell action adventure. It used to fill its
recruiting offices with posters of smiling soldiers visiting
exotic countries. Extolling the qualities found in an elite
service like Special Forces. Now you see posters promising
monetary incentives, education benefits and pledges of high-level
technical training. It is not an 'Army of One' Army, anymore.
It's a 'What's in it for me?' Army. You can see the effect on
the armored forces. Interchangeable crews. That's like a
shared bride.

Somebody needs to reinitiate the concept of 'a lad and his
track'. I see armor crews with the names of a dozen tracks
stenciled on their flak vests. How can a lad develop love and
loyalty to twelve tanks? Simple answer. He can't.

We need to figure out some way of reconnecting men with the
land. We need to develop, to reestablish the relationship
between soldiers and their units.

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 mess hall. His unit. An old ******* who can still hear the
gentle flap, flap, flap of the signal flags on a hilltop.