Kurofune: The Black Ships

An excerpt from my book Kurofune:

The sun was getting higher and higher off the eastern horizon. The beautiful orange, yellow and reddish glow of the sunrise was tarnished by the thick, black, brown and grayish pall and smoke plumes covering Betio and the immediate vicinity due to the high explosive nature of the Naval Gunfire Support and the air strikes. The air was becoming heavier and heavier and thick with the smell of detonation, destruction, explosions and cordite. It was the smell of death. These thick, black plumes of smoke rose out from under the coconut palms and the fields of the island then up and over the lagoon like a dark impervious blanket of terror. Rows and rows upon rows of coconut palm trees were scarred, naked and pitted; their ragged palm fronds hanging down, vertically limp, as if the life had suddenly been snuffed out of them by some horrendous outer worldly force. No tree escaped the carnage of the shelling that swept across the entire length and breadth of the island. Collectively the palm trees just stood there, motionless, ragged or naked in the light tropical breeze, as if standing upright in a desolate, mysterious landscape, like sentinels to hell itself. The landscape was pockmarked with deep and shallow craters, like the surface of the moon. And like the surface of the moon the island was lifeless. On top of all of that a light grey mist hung in the air like dust particles suspended, coagulating into and onto everything within this maelstrom of terror. Nature’s colour palette of tropical hues and shades of blue, green and turquoise surrendered to this monochromatic nightmare. It was an eerie sight to behold. 

The Naval Gunfire barrage continued raining death and destruction among the Japanese defenders. A 16 inch shell found its mark on one of the Vicker’s Guns ammunition dumps. The subsequent explosion of the ammo dump sent shells, debris and shockwaves from one end of Betio to the other and across the lagoon.

“Head’s down,” somebody screamed. Was Armageddon that far behind? Ted thought of this cataclysmic detonation?  It was horrendous. His whole world shook.

The naval bombardment had gone on now for almost three hours. Sooner or later it would be time for the Marines to turn to and head directly for the beach. The Marines of wave one held back in the lagoon at the departure line in their Alligators, LCT (Tanks), LCMs (Mechanized) and their Higgin’s Boats, but it would soon be time for the landing.  In the meantime they were getting anxious and sick of the tumultuous movement of the landing craft. Sea worthy they were not. Even Ted was anxious to go. Not really seasick, he was becoming nauseous watching his colleagues retch from the motion of the Higgins. The sea sickness and the dry heaving was horrific, as everything that had been in their stomachs from breakfast was now awash in the boat’s bilge. A sour, bitter and slightly acidic, pungent odor permeated the air among them. That combined with the nauseating diesel fumes and individual sweat was enough to turn anyone pale.

Ted was nervous, but not really scared, as he just wanted to go and get on with it.  Lou and the Reverend remained silent, even as they looked at one another for mutual encouragement, as if to say everything is going to be okay. The Reverend clutched his bible for his own spiritual support and emotional fortitude. Lou was a non believer yet one could see the abject fear in his eyes. Ted kissed the crucifix of his Rosary one last time. He also stole one more peak at the picture of Ruth that he had in his shirt top pocket, protected as it was from the seawater by a plastic sheath.”

Check out Kurofune by clicking the link at the top right of this page. You can access Amazon via the embedded link.

Cheers and have a great weekend.

SJ……………………………Out

Second song of the day:

Vezelay to Lourdes…Or Bust

Probably bust but I am going to give it my best shot.

The Abby in Vezelay France. Where according to Catholic legend or myth or whatever, the bones of Mary Magdalen are housed, not buried, but housed. Sounds more eclasiastical to me. Buried sounds so eternal…the end game, nada, that’s it, that’s all He wrote. And how did her bones get from the Holy Land to Vezelay? God only knows. Perhaps he liked Burgundy and wanted some of the grape to conduct a Celebration of Life for dear old Mary. We’ll never know but Vezelay sure is a beautiful place. And speaking of Never I also want to see that place as that is where Saint Bernadette de Soubirous is buried. Entirely preserved I am told. Better than my 1982 Suburu.

Back to Vezelay:

Hmmmmmmmmm…..The Abby in Vezelay….Hmmmmmmmmmm

See the source imageHmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Where I will start my 900 km walk….Hmmmmmmmmmmm!

See the source imageJust hope they never have an earthquake!

Maybe I’ll see this guy there:

See the source imageComedian Dave Allen, as the Bishop!

Catholic Passport. Given out at birth to every good Catholic boy or girl. Must be stamped at various milestones throughout life. As a reminder that as Catholics, we are all:

See the source imageSorry…..I must say though the Catholicism has produced a multitude of laughs over the years. You would never, ever hear or see a Protestant comedian telling a Martin Luther joke. Or a Muslim telling a joke about Islam. Never. Now we Catholics fear an existential threat of eternal damnation while those other guys can’t even come close to that. That is why there is so much fun with the Catholic Church. While a Muslim martyr is promised salvation with a bevy of beautiful women, we Catholics have to be content with “Going to Hell in a Handmaiden’s basket”! Much more fun.

And Lourdes? Hopefully I will make it there.

See the source image

Been training for this walk now for a few months. Here I am at the beginning of a morning 22 Km walk. Shawnigan Lake area near Mill Bay:

Land-locked Ness monster. How did she get here?

Fun times ahead. I’m going to track this pilgrimage on this blog…so stay tuned.

Song of the day. Unlike Mary Magdalen, I make no bones about my faith. It’s a great song:

SJ……………………………….Out

 

Joy to the World

I am soooo excited and very happy today as I am now a:

Grampa, Opa, Grand-Pere, Gramps, Grampy Old Man…whatever!

 

Life is good….again!

Thanks to all of my friends and family here in the Great White North for your thoughts and wishes for the new parents; all of my friends and family from the Netherlands; Oma and Karin from Spain; and a special note of thanks to my new found Swiss friends for everything.

Thanks

Great

Best to my son, my daughter-in-law and their new bundle of joy.

 

Song of the day:

How appropriate

SJ…………………………Out

 

Good Friday

Good Friday

 

The Passion

 

The Resurrection

 

Perfection!

 

Still waiting for the birth of my future grandchild. 5 days late now. Perhaps she is waiting to come to us on Easter Sunday. That would be perfect.

 

https://youtu.be/Ol-7G3-PoMs

Another day of living – underneath God’s light

Have a nice day. Happy Easter.

SJ………………………………..Out

Hallelujah!

Just  like to thank everyone for your thoughts and condolences. Boys and I are doing alright.

Maldives? Well as you know this has been a great interest to me. Back in 1988 the UN predicted that in 30 years, Jan 1st 2018, the Maldives will be underwater due to rising sea levels as a result of climate change. Well, I checked so you don’t have to. On January 1 2018, the Maldives were still there, in all their glory:

Image result for Maldives Sea Level Rise

Nope, still there. Even this guy is still here:

Image result for Maldives Sea Level Rise

“Dear UN IPCC. We are in deep trouble. We are in way over our heads here” the Maldives Minister of Internal Affairs gurgled. “Bring money, fast. We are running out of air, er I mean land.”

Still there, move on. But now the UN has said: “Well we made a mistake. The Maldives will now be underwater by 2100.” There’s that 100 year push into the future again. A time when all of us will be dead so…no dispute. Just give us the money!

Not to be undone by the Maldives, a young woman from the Marshall Atoll in Micronesia has gotten into the act as well, but she has written a poem to the UN to highlight the dangers of rising sea levels:

Roses are Red

Violets are blue

We are in deep Ka ka here

Unless you bring us some dough… dear

AND NOW!

This poem will surely win her the 2018 Nobel Prize for literature. Enough of that…move on.

 

Been monitoring the list of names for this year’s new arrivals…soooo cute

“Chrystel, Christel”…yeah but the spelling is different.

“Moonlaunch”…after Kim Flung Poo of North Korea

“Moonbat”…after New York Mayor “Bill de Blasio,” and do it now before he runs out of your money!

“Moonbeam”…after California Governor Gerry Brown

Number one names for twins:

“Moonbat and Moonbeam”

“Ataboy Endeavours.” I kid you not.

Reminds me of an expression we had in the Navy. Y’know 10 ataboys plus 1 oh F&^K equals zero ataboys.

“Serious Now”…Seriously?

“Precious George” Imagine this poor guy when he turns 18!

Geesh…………..Poor Kids

Mehgan Markel’s dirty habits revealed. When I saw this headline over the holidays I was intrigued. I thought maybe, just maybe. Imagine my letdown when I read she wanted to stop swearing and biting her nails…Geesh, and here I thought this piece of journalistic profound-ity would address something like picking her nose in public and looking at it, or scratching her ass…you know stuff that guys do. Gender equality and all of that. After all it is 2018 you know.

Image result for photos of mehgan markel and harry in public

Heard in passing. “Shit Harry, Jesus H Christ, I am getting so gawd damn tired of this f*&kin waving. My hands are so F*&kin sore.”

Our Prime Minister…looking soooooooo Prime Ministerial. Don’t ya just love it Millennials?

Song for the day  on this Happy Monday:

 

Happy Monday………………………………………SJ Out