| The story of The PC 1132 webpages Some people ask me why I waste my time and effort on a bunch of old people who want to remember their past and try to rekindle old friendships long gone. They ask why I would want to put myself in the same boat, so to speak, as the people I am trying to help keep in touch after so long a time. Why is it that a young guy would take time and energy to put things on the internet like newsletters and pictures and old stories when there is so much other I could be using my internet time doing. Well, let me start, first, by saying, to me it is not a waste of time. Old friendships such as these will never grow old, even if the bodies of those people do. They will never die even if the shells of the men do. Friendships such as these were bonded during a trying time in these men's lives, as they were thrust upon a task of helping fuel a war effort. And, as anyone who has ever been in war will tell you, friendships bound in times of hardship or trial or even live and death never pass away. These bonds are forged in stronger materials than any metal that has ever been or will ever be. When you have to rely on, not only yourself, but the man beside you, helping watch his back as he does the same for you, you find that you will not only rely on that person as they can mean your life or death, or even a wound that could or could not heal with time, but you become friends in way no others could ever understand. You become bound to that individual, or individuals, by the ties of life. And, when your life depends on another person, you just seem to become closer than any family member could. The closest a person could ever hope to come to this friendship is when a man and woman are married for a time, such as many of these men and women have, of 20, 30, 40, 50, and, yes, even 60 years. And, when two people can spend their lives together for such a long time and still get goosebumps when they see the other, still love that person with all their hearts, and gladly lay their life down to save that other, they see the friendship binds that these war veterans have made. To gladly give your life to save another, to take another person's life and death in your own hands, protecting them with your own, is the highest form of friendship that there is. Some may say, these men didn't come that close yet they still made lifetime friendships. So, why did they when they never quite faced the life and death struggle that I refer to? Maybe, its because they didn't come that close, yet they faced the possibilities every day. With any passing day, they might be another casualty of war from a passing plane and a lucky gunner or bomber. They might any day be struck by a submarine with a lucky shot. Or, when helping landing efforts, a stray shell could take any or all of them out without the individuals with their hands on that trigger ever seeing the faces of the young men they just sent home in body bags. And, every day, the thought had to be in their minds, whether it be in the forefront or the back, that, "This could be the day I die." Then, since they faced this predicament, the bonds they made were with those of possibilites.....possibilities of life lost....possibilities of friends lost.... possibilities of families with a loved one that would never come home, never see their child's face, their wife, their mothers and fathers. The possibilities were that the man beside them could die if I didn't do my part, my duty. So, even if these men didn't come as close as some, they still came close enough to become friends who watched out for each other. And, with personal lives on ship and on land spent in such close proximity, they became a family to one another, as their own were thousands of miles away. And in this, they forged the bonds of a friendship that will not die, could not die, and, if I have my way, I will never let die. This is one reason I do what I do. I want to make sure to help keep these individuals and their families in touch, sharing their pictures and stories with the world, and each other. I want my part to be of rememberance...for those who lived their lives during a high casuality war on a small ship, way out in the far reached of the world away from their homes, on a small rust bucket that seemed to almost always be just one lose deck plate away from Davey Jones' locker, yet was the most wonderful and beautifulest ships of them all to them while they were on her as she kept them safe and sound and brought them a part-time family of friends as they did their duty, their job, saving lives, protecting lives...and maybe connecting them for eternity as a group, a friend, a close loved one. And, as many have already gone on to that great ship in the sky, I want to make sure to preserve this memory for their families and their families to come. I want to try to let others know about this group of guys who made sacrifices of, if not their life, at least a part of their lives to protect the American way. And, as I am a PROUD American, I thank each and every man and woman who did that part to keep me free, to keep me safe, and allow me the freedom I have today. Thank you to the gunner who manned his post. Thank you to the engineer who kept the ship running. Thank you to the cook who fed them. Thank you to the radarman who watch out for them and the ship. Thank you to the XO who gave the orders that kept them safe. And, thank you to the families who lended us their offspring to help save our freedom. In the world as it is today, war and injustice abound in all parts of the world. In Iraq our men and women are dying to help a people who do not have the freedoms we have, yet desire them with their hearts. And each and every day they bring those freedoms closer to the Iraqi boy, girl, man, woman, who have known only struggle, death, starvation, and attrocities that would make the hardest heart cringe. And, one day, I know there will be someone who will do his or her part to help let everyone know the struggle they faced and try to bring the knowledge to the world of the part these men and women played in their freedom. So, why do I do what I do? Need I say more? God bless each and every one of you....and our fighting men and women everywhere today. Tim Davis PC 1132 webmaster |
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