USS MULLINNIX DD-944

       PLANKOWNERS      

1958 Mullinnix Commissioning Invitation. Courtesy of Howard Everett



Click on each picture to enlarge

	CDR Clyde B. Anderson		Freddie J Stallman
	Freddie J Stallman		LT Alan Brown
	CDR C.B. Anderson		Chuck Weber and David Long
	EM3 Normand Bellerose and MM2 Richard Giles in Gitmo, June 1958		ENS JJ O'Connell
	ET Striker Art Foley		HMC Summers and GM1 Risley
	L to R: Root, Fanter, Harrell, 2 unknown Shipmates, and Amador at Equator celebration 1958.jpg		Jm Young
	John "Jack" Daily in Guantanoma City, Cuba in June 1958		L to R: DK1 EW Guth, ENS Brown on Payday in 1958
	Unknown Plank Owner in Tampico Mexico in 1958		Radarman Chuck Weber in 1958
	RD3 William Bedsworth		Stan Prichard on his Birthday in 1958
	Plank Owners 1958		More PLank Owners 1958
	More PLank Owners 1958

Following Pictures Courtesy of Art Salzfass
Click on each picture to enlarge

	LT Ed Verbecke		LT Art Salzfass
	LT Carter & LT Sears		LT Jack O'Connell
	LT Tim Sears		LT Walter Whitley
	LT Art Salzfass		LCDR Murray - Our XO
	LT Tim Sears & LT O'Connell		LT Art Salzfass
	LT TIm Sears & LT Jack O'Connel		LT Art Salzfass
	LT Art Salzfass		LT Art Salzfass
	LT Tim Sears		Unknown Mullinnix Officer & Plankowner
	LT Art Salzfass

I Was A Sailor Once
(Author unknown)

I liked standing on the bridge wing at sunrise with salt spray in my face and clean ocean winds whipping in from the four quarters of the globe I liked the sounds of the Navy - the piercing trill of the boatswains pipe, the syncopated clangor of the ship's bell on the quarterdeck, harsh, and the strong language and laughter of sailors at work.

I liked Navy vessels -- plodding fleet auxiliaries and amphibs, sleek submarines and steady solid aircraft carriers.

I liked the proud names of Navy ships: Midway, Lexington, Saratoga, Coral Sea, Antietam, Valley Forge - - memorials of great battles won and tribulations overcome.

I liked the lean angular names of Navy "tin-cans" and escorts, mementos of heroes who went before us.

And the others - - San Jose, San Diego, Los Angeles, St. Paul, Chicago, Oklahoma City, named for our cities.

I liked the tempo of a Navy band.

I liked liberty call and the spicy scent of a foreign port.

I even liked the never ending paperwork and all hands working parties as my ship filled herself with the multitude of supplies, both mundane and to cut ties to the land and carry out her mission anywhere on the globe where there was water to float her.

I liked sailors, officers and enlisted men from all parts of the land, farms of the Midwest, small towns of New England, from the big cities, the mountains and the prairies, from all walks of life. I trusted and depended on them as they trusted and depended on me -- for professional competence, for comradeship, for strength and courage. In a word, they were "shipmates"; then and forever.

I liked the surge of adventure in my heart, when the word was passed: ''Now Hear This'' "Now station the special sea and anchor detail - all hands to quarters for leaving port," and I liked the infectious thrill of sighting home again, with the waving hands of welcome from family and friends waiting pier side The work was hard and dangerous; the going rough at times; the parting from loved ones painful, but the companionship of robust Navy laughter, the "all for one and one for all" philosophy of the sea was ever present.

I liked the fierce and dangerous activity on the flight deck of aircraft carriers, earlier named for battles won but sadly now named for politicians. Enterprise, Independence, Boxer, Princeton and oh so many more, some lost in battle, and sadly many scrapped.

I liked the names of the aircraft and helicopters; Skyraider, Intruder, Sea King, Phantom, Skyhawk, Demon, Skywarrior, Corsair, and many more that bring to mind offensive and defensive orders of battle.

I liked the excitement of an alongside replenishment as my ship slid in alongside the oilier and the cry of "Standby to receive shotlines" prefaced the hard work of rigging spanwires and fuel hoses echoed across the narrow gap of water between the ships and welcomed the mail and fresh milk, fruit and vegetables that sometimes accompanied the fuel.

I liked the serenity of the sea after a day of hard ship's work, as flying fish flitted across the wave tops and sunset gave way to night.

I liked the feel of the Navy in darkness - the masthead and range lights, the red and green navigation lights and stern light, the pulsating phosphorescence of radar repeaters - they cut through the dusk and joined with the mirror of stars overhead. And I liked drifting off to sleep lulled by the myriad noises large and small that told me that my ship was alive and well, and that my shipmates on watch would keep me safe.

I liked quiet mid-watches with the aroma of strong coffee -- the lifeblood of the Navy permeating everywhere.

And I liked hectic watches when the exacting minuet of haze-gray shapes racing at flank speed kept all hands on a razor edge of alertness.

I liked the sudden electricity of "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations," followed by the hurried clamor of running feet on ladders and the resounding thump of watertight doors as the ship transformed herself in a few brief seconds from a peaceful workplace to a weapon of war -- ready for anything.

And I liked the sight of space-age equipment manned by youngsters clad in dungarees and sound-powered phones that their grandfathers would still recognize .

I liked the traditions of the Navy and the men and now women who made them. I liked the proud names of Navy heroes:Halsey, Nimitz, Perry, Farragut, John Paul Jones and Burke.

A sailor could find much in the Navy: comrades-in-arms, pride in self and country, mastery of the seaman's trade. An adolescent could find adulthood.

In years to come, when sailors are home from the sea, we still remember with fondness and respect the ocean in all its moods - the impossible shimmering mirror calm and the storm-tossed green water surging over the bow. And then there will come again a faint whiff of stack gas, a faint echo of engine and rudder orders, a vision of the bright bunting of signal flags snapping at the yardarm, a refrain of hearty laughter in the wardroom and chief's quarters and mess decks.

Gone ashore for good we grow humble about our Navy days, when the seas were a part of us and a new port of call was ever over the horizon.

Remembering this, WE stand taller and say, " I WAS A SAILOR ONCE'





                                          

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© 2003 by Frank Wood, All rights reserved