Land of Blackjack and Pancho

The desert air was cool on that morning of March 9, 1916. It was well before dawn in the sleepy border town of Columbus, New Mexico.  But not for long as the thundering hooves of horses were heard down the main street. Amidst gunshots riders were yelling "Viva Villa!"," Viva Mexico!" The residents were awakened along with the soldiers in the garrison there. The 13th Calvary of the U.S. Army had three hundred soldiers there.  The soldiers with their machine guns and rifles, along with armed citizens, repelled the Villistas.     Major Frank Tompkins led the Americans as they pursued the Mexicans back across the border.    The Villistas lost about eighty of their five hundred man force, the Americans eighteen.  While on their raid the troops of Pancho Villa looted and burned quite a few buildings in Columbus.

I had always found this battle, or raid, fascinating. It occurred over one hundred years after the last invasion of the United States of America, the previous being by the British in 1812.  I was able to learn a great bit about the battle by visiting the Museum at the Pancho Villa State Park. We enjoyed the park.  Like many parks in the southwest it had a shelter with metal roof. Desert plants were in bloom when we were there. I think the main attraction of the park is the museum. The building is  a pale yellow with a tile roof.  I could tell it was something special  by the artillery pieces outside.  To me, the early 1900's are a fascinating time in history, especially technologically. The armored car out front was a great example. It was slab-sided with a gun turret on top and was mounted on hard rubber tires. I suppose locomotion was provided by an early gasoline or diesel engine. If you ever saw the old John Wayne western, "The War Wagon", you would have a good idea what this armored vehicle looked like, sans horses of course. The armies of the world were transitioning from horse oriented armies to those of machines.  Although the Americans had chased General Francisco "Pancho" Villa back across the border, president Woodrow Wilson wasn't satisfied.  He sent his best general, John "Blackjack" Pershing to invade Mexico and apprehend Villa. There were many technological advances in warfare used in that Pancho Villa Expedition.

As I entered the Museum, the building dates from 1916, I immediately was taken aback by the Jenny biplane hanging from the ceiling. This was the first armed conflict in which aircraft were used. I should clarify that by saying airplanes, because observation balloons were used in the American Civil War. A Dodge touring car is on prominent display with bullet holes courtesy of Pancho's raiders.  There were other relics and artifacts as well.  I was quite interested in the  French Chauchat  machine gun.  It was a light weight  gun  capable of about 240 rounds per minute.  I'm not sure how successful Pershing's troops were using it, but I know that in WWI most doughboys preferred to use it as a club! It jammed frequently and would not fire.  Colt's 1911 model .45 caliber semi-automatic pistol was on display, a well designed  gun that is still manufactured today. There was  an army truck as well, a four-wheel drive model.  It should be noted that many of these innovations were less than perfect. The airplanes had difficulty flying over the mountains. The trucks would mire down and get stuck in the desert sand. The firearms would jam and refuse to fire. But, it was a great opportunity to test new technology under battle conditions. The Expeditionary Force did not capture Villa.  One grizzled veteran of that expedition told a friend of mine, "Don't know what Blackjack was lookin' for, but me and the boys was lookin' for them hot Mexican women!"

We had a good visit at the Pancho Villa State Park. It wasn't quiet at night though; the road to Palomas, Mexico, was busy all night.  (We could see the lights of the city from our campsite.)
They advertise  360 days of sunshine in this part of New Mexico.  It rained while we were there.  And, Claudette got stung by an ant. I think it was a Mexican ant that had sneaked across the border, maybe Pancho's revenge!

Poultry on the Prowl

During a recent trip to Hawaii I found out some interesting things about chickens. When we were on a tour of Oahu we saw many chickens that seemed to run wild. Would they be “feral” chickens?   When we reached a lookout point high in the mountains of Oahu the area seemed to be inundated with chickens.  I believe they were what are normally referred to as “game fowl”: the type most often seen competing in cockfights. We asked the guide about why there were so many wild chickens, and his response was that during a hurricane in 1992 many chicken coops had been destroyed, and the chickens had been set free. There were some very young chickens there as well.  They were between  “bitty” and “pullet” stages. I tried to get close enough to catch one but had to settle for a picture. The small ones would make a good meal for a fox or snake, but the chickens have few natural predators, perhaps, only hawks and other raptors. There are no foxes, and the mongoose, “Iole manakuke”, does not inhabit all the islands and usually eats only the eggs. There are no snakes in the Hawaiian Islands.  

Kauai probably has the greatest population of feral chickens. While there I learned something which could have helped me a lot when I was a farm boy. When Saturday came and there would be fried chicken for Sunday dinner, it was my job to catch and kill the unfortunate Rhode Island Red for said Sunday dinner.  I would chase and catch the unfortunate creature before performing the decapitation with my trusty axe. But, while on that mini-bus tour of Kauai our guide told of a different, and albeit more humane, method of execution. (I’m not sure “humane” can be used in reference to animals.) As we, the tourists, gathered around the middle-aged woman in Hawaiian dress she explained catching chickens for the pot in her youth.  She said, ” First you have to catch the chicken. Then you tuck the chicken under your arm, and you stroke the feathers on his back gently. Then you take your forefinger and tap ‘em in the forehead above the eyes.  The chicken will go limp in your hands ‘cause he’s dead.”

If I had known that as a kid there would not have been blood spurting everywhere, and I wouldn’t have had to have been so accurate with the axe. And never would I have heard the phrase, “Running around like a chicken with his head chopped off.”

Wait 'til September.

cellphone image

"I think we can," I said to my best friend, Jimbo.  We were two young boys in our twelfth year on the cusp of a great adventure.
"Aunt Helen would say that we're stealing," Jimbo said somewhat pleadingly.

"Not really.  We'd just be borrowing the boat." I countered.

We were on the edge of a farm pond in the red clay area of South Carolina.   School was out, and our shoes had come off for the summer. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, and a gentle breeze rippled the dark green water.   We had started our big adventure the night before.  The two of us had camped out in a big gully and cooked our breakfast eggs over a campfire. If Jimbo would go along with me we could have some real fun.

" I think we can get that padlock open if we hit it with that rock,"  says I.

"I don't know about this..." Jimbo's voice trailed off.

"Just hold the lock on that big rock and I'll bust it with this rock!"

"Well...alright," my best friend said begrudgingly. He gingerly placed the rusty padlock on the large rock and held it at arm's length. The fourteen food wooden boat was chained to a large pine tree near the water.

Bam!

"See.  I told you it'd be easy"

Jimbo helped me push the boat away from the bank and we climbed in. The water was warm.  We struggled a bit as we clamored aboard.

"Tony, how we gonna paddle?"

"We'll use our hands.  I seen it once in a Davy Crockett movie!"

And there we were, two best buddies floating out in the middle of a three acre farm pond on a beautiful summer day. A largemouth arced through the air in the shallows and made a big splash.
"I wish I'd brought my fishin' pole!" we exclaimed together. Visions of that fish on the end of my pole danced in my head!

"Shhh!" I warned Jimbo.  "Somebody's comin'," I whispered.

I heard the voice calling me. "Tony...Tony-boy!"  It was my grandmother.

"What we gonna do?"  Jimbo asked frantically.

Exhibiting my cleverness, I said, "We'll slip over the side of the boat and hold on.  The boat will be between us and Grandma, so she won't see us."  We were very quick and hardly made a splash in the water. My grandmother came to the edge of the pond opposite us and called again.  We were quiet as mice. But then we heard my grandmother hurrying away and screaming, "Gladys, them boys have done fell in that pond and drownded!" She repeatedly screamed until we couldn't hear her anymore. We knew it was time to get ashore and maybe hide somewhere, but we were not fast enough.  As we were securing the boat, my mother appeared. Her face was red.  She was disheveled and breathing hard from running.  And, there was a look on  her face that was not a loving motherly look.

"Your father will deal with you when he gets home, young man. And Jimbo, I'm sure yours will deal with you too,"  Mama said. When she called me "young man" I knew I was in trouble!

It was the end of our great adventure.  When Daddy got home from work he used a system of discipline that he said always worked on dogs and boys. "A stick on the behind sends a message to the mind!"

Can't wait 'til September.  I can sit down again then!

Shades of Gray

USS North Carolina BB-55

"I don't see how anyone could do it," she said.
"What?" I asked.
"This," she said, making a large circular motion with her arm.
"Oh, the battleship," I responded and added, "I think someone or some group decided what they wanted in a battleship and then hired a company to design and build it."
We were looking at a diagram of the BB 55, the USS North Carolina, while standing on the second deck of the ship.

All thirty-six thousand tons of the battleship North Carolina sits in the mud at low tide in Wilmington, NC.  It was a crisp April morning when we bought our discount tickets and boarded the iron and steel behemoth.  As soon as my feet set foot on the wooden deck I found myself behind a machine gun pointed skyward. I was in the footsteps of a man who had stood there almost seventy years ago. I could imagine how his eyes searched for a Japanese torpedo plane determined to sink his ship.

Claudette awakened me from my daydream and we walked aft under the enormous 16 inch guns.  Yes, the projectile was 16 inches in diameter.  Near the fantail is a Kingfisher floatplane.  It is perched on its center float much like some giant winged insect.  The North Carolina had two Vought OS2U Kingfishers, which were used for scouting the enemy.  Only one Kingfisher remains on the North Carolina, and both catapults used to launch the aircraft are no longer aboard. I tapped on the aircraft's float and heard that nice hollow ping of emptiness.

I really like airplanes, but what I really wanted to see were the big guns. We were near the aft (rear) gun turret. It's almost  as big as  a two car garage, with three big guns. There was a steel ladder extending from an open hatch.  I had to climb in. It was poorly illuminated inside.  Metal worn bare

Inside the aft gun Turret.

from usage shined in the darkness.  It was like being inside a machine. The mechanisms that moved the barrels of guns were visible as was the machinery which placed the projectiles and black powder into the breech of the guns.  The area was crowded but clean and smelled of machinery oil, and maybe a hint of burnt powder. Each gun is shown is various stages of being loaded. Cardboard cut-outs of men perform the work.

I needed to go below and see where the powder and projectiles were stored.    I extricated myslf from the gun turret and felt my feet firmly planted on the deck. "Here is a way to get down below," she said, standing beside a door marked, "Enter to go below decks." 
We found ourselves in the dining area or mess deck in navy speak.  There is a sameness about the naval ships I've been on. Their passageways, hatches, doors, decks, and compartments are the same.  They are reminiscent of the Millennium Falcon, Enterprise, Serenity and many other spaceships, or perhaps it's the other way around. Following the signs we found ourselves in the Fire Control Department.  Before I  joined the Navy I thought that fire control meant firemen.  Not so! Fire control refers to control of gun fire from the ships' giant guns. The compartment had plexiglas walls. This allowed the visitors to see the giant analog targeting devices used to calculate the targeting position for each of the nine 16 inch guns. These computers were the size of steamer trunks and were truly amazing mechanical devices. However, my cell phone has more computing power. The signs in the passageways pointed the way to the magazines.

There were more ladders before getting to where the munitions were stored.  We entered a circular room where bullet shaped projectiles taller than the man in front of me lined the walls. The projectiles are painted pale blue. Interesting. Could this be because pale blue is the school color of the University

Punch bowl USS North Carolina

of North Carolina?  Through a watertight door we went, and we were standing on the catwalk around a caverous circular room of about thirty-five feet in diameter and at least that depth below us. In the center is the shaft upon which the  gun turret rotates and the elevator for carrying the powder to the gun. We descended via a spiral ladder to the deck to see the powder magazine off to the side. Powder is neatly packaged in one hundred pound bags.

We climbed back to the upper deck to see the dining area again and visited the kitchen a.k.a. galley, the hospital, sick bay, as well as dental office, post office, and ships store.

Claudette raised her head up from the brochure and said, "Did you know there were 144 officers and 2,195 enlisted men including 100 Marines assigned to this ship?"

"No, not exactly, but I know battle wagons like this one had as many men as aircraft carriers," I answered. 

We continued to tour the ship, steering clear as much as possible of marauding teenagers. The crew's berthing area brought back memories.  I remember my rack as being 61 inches long and 21 inches wide. A piece of grommeted canvas was laced to the aluminum frame with a mattress on top. These were before the advent of foam rubber and instead probably used the usual mattress material. I once had the top rack.  There were three men underneath me. It was kind of like sleeping on a shelf. You slid your body in and out.

Continuing our walk Claudette noted, "The officers sure had better quarters," as we looked through the plexiglass wall of a junior officers shared stateroom."Yes, they did, and the senior officers had private staterooms.  Wait 'til you see the wardroom where the officers had their meals!"

But we did not see the wardroom on the USS North Carolina.  It had been converted into a hospitality area to be used for social or business events.  However, the silver punchbowl, cups, and silver tea set were on display. Examples of the ship's china and silverware were there too.

As we ascended the superstructure we were inundated by middleschoolers.  Some were extremely rude and had to be counseled with. The bridge housing  the ship's steering wheel, the helm in navy speak, was fairly crowded with tourists.  I failed to find the telegraph which sent the messages to the engineroom regarding the ship's speed. While in the superstructure we saw the captain's at sea cabin, the chartroom, and CIC, the Combat Information Center.  We found the ladders full of students as we descended to the main deck.  I took a close look at a twenty-five foot motor whaleboat with its small diesel engine.  After some kids stopped playing on one of the anti-aircraft gun tubs I was able to seat myself behind the gunsights and raise and lower the gun with the handcrank.  I blasted every Zero out of the Wilmington sky!