Emil Kolar is one of our original World War II LST-325 crewmembers.  He's also a heckuva terrific guy with a wonderful family.

Returning home from an extended trip to California, he got quite a nice surprise.  His daughters, Dianne and Sandy, had one of the ship's flags flown on his 80th birthday, July 28.  As you can tell from the picture, he was very pleased with this present.

Happy birthday, Mr. Kolar ... and may you have very many prosperous and healthy years to come!

     ~ LST-325 WebSkipper

Hi Folks.  I took a ride to the ship on Monday to see Don Chapman and also to check if anything in particular was going on.  Well, I found out real quick. 

Don told me that the #1 fire pump had died, and suggested that we go take a look at the new a/c fire pump not yet installed in the main engine room.  That sounds good to me, so down we went. 

Then he said, "Let's move it to the aux engine room."

"Don! That thing weighs over 300 pounds!" 

He said, "I know, so are you ready?" 

I won't go into all the details, but somehow we got it to the aux engine room.  [Ed note: It's a good thing we had the new hatchway installed between the two engine rooms a few months back!]

Well, the rest of the story is that we put it in place and bolted it down.  Phillip Kotheimer arrived and we put him and Bill Arras to work removing the same old #1 fire pump control panel that Chapman, Edwards, and I had removed from another LST in Souda Bay and installed in the 325.  Removing it wasn't easy.

Chuck Frawley was also there stuffing envelopes.  Bob and Rosemary Ostrander were on the computer working on our mailing list. 

Before I left yesterday, I installed the new a/c control panel and control switch.  Aligning and hooking up the a/c is all that is needed to get the new pump running. 

All in all, it was a very worthwhile trip.  If you can, come on down and lend a hand -- this Grand Ol' Girl needs all the TLC she can get!

     ~ Ron Maranto

THE LAST AMERICAN ON LST 325 By Bob Barger Posted 23 August 2004 At the WebSkipper's request, I will try to write down my memories of my experiences on the LST 325 Transfer Team and the LST Mobile Training Team, prior to the ship being given to the Greek Navy. As for my total Navy experience, I spent 5 years on active duty before being discharged on Sept. 1, 1964. I was assigned to the USS Boxer (LPH 4) when the ship received orders to transfer one SK2 immediately to the Norfolk Naval Base for an unknown assignment.  (I was one of two SK2's on board at that time.)  I cannot remember exact days and months after all these years, but I believe it to be January 1964. The other SK2 was Averion, a Philippino sailor and a great guy and friend.  Our Division Officer, Lt. Hoppe of S-1 Div., said that one of us had to go and it was up to us to decide which one.  Averion's wife was expecting a baby pretty soon and he needed to be near home at that time, so it was up to me to go.

Underway near Hampton Roads, VA, on 06 MAY 1964, while running post- overhaul sea trials.  At this time she was still technically USS LST 325, as she would not be officially transferred to the Greek Navy until later that month. Official U.S. Navy photograph from the archives of the Navy Historical Center Click on the image for an enlargement

I was told that I was now part of the LST 325 Transfer team.  The team was part of the MAP program (Military Assistance Program) that transferred surplus ships to our allies around the world.  The LST 325 was in the process of being transferred to the Greek Navy.

The team consisted of 30 people: four officers and 26 enlisted men.

The Officer-in-Charge was Lt. Hanley, and the second-in-command was Lt. (jg) Nelson.  (He became a Lt. while with the Team).  He was also what we called a mustang officer at that time.  He started as an enlisted man and worked up to the rank of an officer.

The enlisted men represented the classifications that were required to maintain each part of the ship.

We had a World War II-era Chief Bosun's Mate, whose name I can't remember; a very salty character from W.V. who used to hang out at the Purple Onion in Virginia Beach, Va., and was only with us for about three months.  He went home drunk one night and kicked the door in, and his wife shot him.  He survived, but we never saw him again.

We had a Gunner's Mate, a Machinists Mate (McCraken), Bosun's Mate 1c (Burl), Quartermaster 2c, (from Louisiana),  Radioman 2c (Tanner).  Most of the Navy classifications were represented on the Transfer Team, but I cannot remember other names at this time.

When we arrived at the Newport News Shipyard, we were informed that we were on full per diem, which meant that we had to find our own place to stay, and provide for our own meals, etc.

The LST 325 was already in dry dock at this time and was being totally renovated and brought up to modern standards for that time.  It was our job to monitor the work done by the shipyard and to sign off for areas of our responsibility as they were completed.

After the complete overhaul and renovation of the ship, we went out to sea for sea trials, off Hampton Roads, Va. The voyage was declared a clean sweep, meaning that everything was OK.

Immediately after this, the team was reduced to fifteen members and we became the LST 325 Mobile Training Team.

The ship was sent to the Portsmouth Naval Yard for a short period of time for some type of outfitting which I cannot remember just now.

The thing that I remember about Portsmouth is that we were docked with the bow of LST 325 underneath the stern of the battleship USS Missouri.  I used to look at the name on the stern every day and remember the history behind the ship.

It was at Portsmouth that the Quartermaster got drunk and forgot to wind the ship's clock that was used in navigation.  He waited 24 hours and set it as best as he could from the time given out by the radio stations.

After a short time at the Portsmouth Naval yard, the ship was moved to Little Creek, Va., which at that time was referred to as the Gator Navy.

At this time, the Greek Navy personnel began arriving for training.  The first group to arrive was the Capt., Exec, and a group of officers at Portsmouth, Va.  I was selected by Lt. Hanley to be his driver to welcome the new arrivals.  We met the officers and escorted them to the BOQ for temporary quarters.  At the BOQ, the first night it was party time -- big-time.  The cognac and whiskey flowed until the wee hours.  Lt. Hanley, who was a heavy drinker, passed out and I had to wrestle him into the car and drive back to Newport News across a five-mile bridge at three or four in the morning, falling asleep constantly on the narrow bridge.  I got him to the door of his apartment and pushed him inside and left.  He didn't remember much of that night.  I occasionally hinted at things that he may have done and he really treated me well after that.

After the Greek crew arrived, everyone was surprised to learn that many of them had family in the Newport News and the Norfolk, Va., area.

At Little Creek we settled into daily training with cruises into Chesapeake Bay for anti-aircraft drills and we made landings on the causeways where the crew had to open the bow doors and lower the front ramp onto a huge pin on the causeway.

My assignment changed considerably after we became the Training Team.  As a Storekeeper at that time, we were also the accountants for the Navy.  It was my job to secure all the fuel, food, spare parts, and anything else that was needed or was allowed. 

At this time, I was sent to an office at the Norfolk Naval Base where I was informed that in addition to being a part of the Training Team, I was under the ultimate supervision of a Lt. Love whose duties were to oversee the handover of the ships to our MAP allies.  At this time I was to take all requests from the Greek personnel, check to see if they were allowed, check to see if they were stockpiling materials to take home, and make a special code on each request to reject or to OK each one.  This was to be done without their knowledge.   As you can imagine, this type of job was very stressful.  In effect, I was a spy in their midst.  I was constantly sneaking into the storerooms to inventory spare parts, food supplies, and anything else that they might try to accumulate for their return to Greece.  If they were over their allowance for supplies or parts, I would code the request accordingly, and the office in Norfolk would reject it.

The Capt. and the Exec. Officer were quick to notice that I was the key person to their well-being, but they never really knew to what extent.

I usually spent Monday through Friday on board the ship.  On the weekends I would visit relatives in the area.  Beginning with the first weekend, the Exec stopped me when I was leaving the ship and told me that the Capt. wanted to see me before I left.  The Capt. told me what a fine person he thought I was, and if there was anything he could do for me, to let him know.  He then had the Exec give me two large brown bags with eight bottles of assorted whiskey and cognac -- all I could carry -- to take with me.  This happened every time that I left the ship for the entire time I was there.  If I went to Norfolk on business, I had two bags of booze to take with me.

I had my own stateroom on board the ship, which was my office, and where I was served my meals.  I was treated like royalty the whole time, except near the end of the training period which lasted for about three or four months.  I had a steward assigned to me as my personal assistant and interpreter, whose name was Steve.

Steve and I got along great, and he helped me secure the information that I needed, without knowing what was going on.

Steve met a girl in Norfolk and wanted to get married.  I purchased a wedding ring for him at the ship's store on the Navy Base. 

As soon as the Greek Navy found out that Steve was married, he was never permitted to leave the ship again.  I felt sorry for him but there was nothing that I could do.  He was my one trusted friend on board. 

At this time I did not have too much contact with the other members of the team who had their own assignments.  I do remember one time that I had to borrow a can of ether from the medical dept. of another LST, for Machinist Mate McCraken, so that he could start the landing craft for beach landings.

Most of my time was spent ordering spare parts, food, fuel and any thing else that was required.  I had to send to New York to buy two Greek typewriters for the ship.  Are they still there?

I had one really bad incident in which the Greek cook went to the Capt. and told him and the American Lt. Hanley that I was checking in his storerooms and he was mad as hell about it.  Lt. Hanley did not know that I was also working for Lt. Love in Norfolk, so he didn't know why I was in the storerooms.  I told them that I would not go into the storerooms anymore, and I also told Lt. Love that I was tired of being in the middle and always under suspicion by the Greeks.

After this incident, not very much in the way of food was OK'ed, and when the ship was getting ready to sail for Greece, the cook was frantic and wanted my help to make sure that his storerooms had enough food.  After getting my revenge and an apology, I helped to replenish the supplies to the authorized levels.

As the time for the ship to depart for Greece got close, there was almost panic among the Dept. heads of the Greek Navy, who were trying to make sure they had enough supplies to get home.  They were also trying to stockpile everything they could get beyond what was allowed, and they would go to great lengths to get it.

By this time they knew that I was the key person for almost anything that they wanted or needed, and one day they would be nice as heck, and the next time they would try to intimidate me or tell me how disorganized the American Navy was, because they could not get what they wanted.

There were lists of everything that they were allowed under the program and that was what they were to get.

On the day before the LST 325 (now to become L-144 Syros) departed for Greece, I met with all of the department heads of the Greek Navy, to see what else was needed or authorized.  Every one of them was complaining about not getting what they needed, but when I checked, they had everything that was authorized by the U.S. Navy.

The last officer that I spoke with before the ship left was the Greek engineering officer, who said that he had nothing but disgust for the U.S. Navy, because they would not give him more parts and supplies than was allowed. 

Their whole game was to make every effort to get as much out of the American Navy as possible to take back to Greece with them.

On the morning that the LST 325, now L-144 Syros, left for Greece, I packed my briefcase and boxed all my records and loaded them into my 1962 Chevrolet Impala, and said goodbye to all of the crew that I had been with for several months, and walked down the gangway, the last American on board before the ship went to Greece.

I watched as the ship took up lines and moved into the harbor.  I then drove to Lt. Love's office on the Norfolk Navy Base, and as I got out of my car I looked out and saw the ship on its way. I stood and watched until the ship was out of sight.

I was not watching out of any emotional ties to the Greek crew or ship, but this was my last assignment in the U.S. Navy.  I was to be discharged in a couple of weeks.

That is the last time that I saw the LST 325, until a few years ago. I was watching the news and saw where some crazy ex-sailors were going to sail an aging LST across the North Atlantic. 

These are some of the memories of my tour with the LST 325, and I hope that I have helped to fill in some of the gaps in the history of the ship.  Many memories have faded with the years and many things have probably been left out.

I hope one day soon to be able to travel to Alabama and visit the old ship, and see if my stateroom is still there.

     ~ Bob Barger
           SK2, LST 325 (1964)

UPDATE FROM CAPT. JORNLIN Posted 22 August 2004       Shown at right: Captain Jornlin is glad to receive the new welder from Miller and Hobart

Jesus said: GO SAILING! (St. Luke 8.22-25)

He did not worry if the sun was out, if the temperature was above 80 degrees, or if everyone had their latte.  He also did not have much sympathy for crewmembers who got queasy in big water, whined about onboard accommodations, could not weather conditions or who questioned the Captain's orders.

Just a couple of things for everyone from my personal point of view.   All is well on the LST-325, now being watched after by Bob and Rosemary Ostrander.  That is, except for a short break when our good friends Cal and Pearl Ellison came back for duty while the Ostrander's went to the big LST Convention in Philadelphia.  Don Chapman is now on the ship, along with Ad Mumford (our ace swimmer) and Jim Bartlett (who stopped in Illinois for a visit with us and Bruce Voges).  Bruce just had a 50-year anniversary.  Congratulations to you and Katie!  Kenny Adams is recovering from back surgery and is now back on the computer.  We all wish you a speedy recovery -- in any case, be back to work next month!  (Just kidding!)

While at the LST Convention, Mr. Ostrander made a motion on behalf of the LST-325 -- that motion was to have the National LST Board meet with the USS LST SHIP MEMORIAL BOARD "without the Presidents of the two respective Boards."  This received a second and was voted on with a nearly-unanimous vote by all of those in attendance.  This was to iron out the growing differences between the two organizations. I think it's one heck of an idea.  Thank you, Bob! 

Now it seems that there is no record of this motion, according to Mr. Gunjak (President) and Mr. Nick Leonoudakis (Chairman) of the US LST Association Board.  Apparently there are no minutes of the meeting and the motion!  Mr. Nick says he has no recollection of any motion. Evidently, Mike G. must have put him to sleep with his 20-minute bashing of the LST-325 at the start of the meeting.

Another thing you should all know about.  The National has kept it a secret from all members since their Dallas meeting (where they blamed the LST-325 for their bad attendance) that they took a vote to change the by-laws so that members can no longer vote for Board members.  They, the present Board, will appoint whomever they want to.  That is so Mr. Gunjak can have his "yes" men and he can be President-for-Life; and you and I can have no say as to who runs OUR organization (The US LST Association), its policies, etc.  I, along with many of you, have said that a ballot should be put into the Scuttlebutt, or sent out to everyone who is a paid-up member in good standing, then to be returned to an independent CPA.  This is the correct way for this to be done.  Mr. Gunjak has refused to do this.  We know the reasons that nobody wants to volunteer to be on this Board.

Meanwhile, the LST 325 is getting things fixed, looking good, both engines have been started, and we are preparing for the trip up the East Coast in 2005.  We are planning a "work month" in October.  We hope that many of you can be there to help, and to reunite with your shipmates.

     ~ Bob Jornlin
           Captain, LST-325
 

[Ed. note: Concerned members of the US LST Association may email the Association's Board at lstboard@kmbs.com.]

Excerpted from "The Piper Cub and the LST Aircraft Carrier (A WWII Poor Man's Carrier)" by John C. Kriegsman, Liaison Pilot Air Officer, 77th Infantry Division Artillery

My empty Piper Cub weighed 650 lbs. It cost $3500.00 to build; our main purpose was to spot artillery fire. We also did dozens of flunky jobs. Both the Germans and the Japs told their people not to fire on the little planes with the big wings, because the muzzle blast would give away their position, and artillery shells would come in like rain. That was the only protection we had.  ...

Through rumors and the grapevine, we found we were to secure a group of islands. It developed that they were near Okinawa, wherever that was. About two weeks before we were to leave, we found out we were going to leave a week before the main task force to establish an anchorage. About that same time we were issued two of the craziest looking hooks we had ever seen on any aircraft. Along with the hooks were instructions how and where they were to be mounted on our Cubs. Mystery was the order of the day. We figured we were to hook something, but we did not know what!!

Somehow, word came that we were to operate off an LST ship, of all things. A Navy Commander would arrive on a transport ship to explain how the hooks were to be used. Several days passed, and the transport did arrive. Contact was made with the Commander. He was extremely vague. He was unable to supply a picture, or even sketch how the LST was fitted to hook a Cub, or why it was necessary in the first place. He did say the LST was used at Iwo Jima by the Marines, who had L-5 Stinson aircraft. They were much heavier than our Cubs. They waited on board until an airstrip was secured on shore, which took about two precious days. Then they took off, and never returned.

LST 776, with a Brodie device mounted on its deck, did arrive late on the day before the convoy was to leave. Several of the 77th air section, including Lt. Montgomery and me, went on board. The crew told us how the device worked, and what we were expected to do to get our two Cubs on board without damaging them. Next day the convoy assembled early to move out for the Kerama Retto Islands. They were a small group of rocky mountainous (high hills) islands with no beaches. 

The convoy got underway. Our LST was in the convoy. We had no chance to practice landings or takeoffs. Lt. Montgomery and I were expected to get on that ship. The LST could accommodate only two Cubs. Initial observation of those islands was extremely critical. With the convoy underway, we were the show of the day. All eyes and field glasses from nearby ships were on us as we gingerly flew around the LST valiantly trying to hook the 3' by 4' loop. From the curve of the hook to the top of the propeller we had about 20" to "play" with. Lt. Montgomery was the first to hook the loop. I managed in five passes. Thanks be to God that we did not damage our precious planes.

LST 776 was a strange looking craft, but very simple. Forward was a steel pole about 30 ft. high. An arm protruded over the port side about 50' at about the 10:00 o'clock position. There was the same thing aft of the ship with the arm pointing at about the 8:00 o'clock position. The ends of the arms had a cable going from one to the other like a trolley cable. Both ends of the arms on top were sort of a receiving platform for the crew to stand on to manipulate the trolley.

When a plane was to land, a trolley device would roll aft on the cable. A nylon rectangle about 3' wide and 4' long would be dropped from it. The LST would be turned into the wind, and at full speed. The LST had little or no keel. As a result, the ship would roll gently. This meant that those 50' arms over the side would make an arc maybe 30' high. The pilot would approach this loop in sort of a porpoise fashion. It was necessary for the pilot to get the rhythm of the ship as he made his approach, so that when he hooked - or worse yet, missed - the loop, the arm would not come crashing down on him.

Cubs were tail-draggers. When a pilot made a three-point landing, he pulled the "joy-stick" into his belly. It was as natural as pulling on your trousers. Not so when you hooked the loop. You had to remember to jam the stick ahead at the slightest tug indicating that you were hooked to the loop. That kept the nose down so the prop would not go up into the cable, and get all chewed to pieces.

Probably the worst thing that could happen was to think that you were hooked when you were not, and you jammed the stick forward. Diving 30 ft. straight down could make for a big problem. We started doing this without any practice or instructions, and the problem was that things were so close that extreme concentration was required.

To take off, a small nylon loop about 12 inches in diameter was installed in the small "eye" at the top of the hook. The pilot and passenger, in the Cub with its propeller active, would be lifted up, hooked on the trolley, and transferred to the larger cable. The crew would then pull the trolley aft as far as it could go. It would be held there while the LST headed full-power into the wind. The pilot would apply full RPM for take-off. When he had checked his mags, and was ready for take-off he signaled the crew, and they would release him.

The cable was about 300' long. When the pilot arrived at about the 250' mark he would pull the release chain, much like flushing an old-fashioned toilet. He still might not have enough airspeed. By using that 30' height he could nose down and pick up enough airspeed to fly just before he hit the water. From there on it was normal flying until it was time to land and refuel.

We did not feel it was a risky operation at all, as some did. However, we were concerned about chances to practice, since we were the only two Cubs which could observe the initial landings. We were led to believe we were essential for the success of the whole operation.  ...

After Okinawa, the 77th returned to Cebu Island in the Philippines for an R&R and preparation for the next operation, which was to be the BIG ONE! A meeting was held in Manila for an evaluation of the LST 776 with the Brodie Device. Would it be useful for the Kyushu Operation, which had huge cliffs at the invasion site? It would be a deadly reception. Certainly this was the perfect solution for early observation. As a result, four more LST's with the Brodie Device were ordered to be built. Fortunately, Hiroshima and Nagasaki solved that problem.

General Bruce was correct when he said at the end of the war, "The Piper Cub was a secret weapon of the South Pacific War."
 

JOHN'S STORY OF THE REPORTER

As recounted by James Edwards, LST-325 Executive Officer

I met John in Peoria, IL, when we were checking locations to locate the LST 325. I ask John if he would add a happening he related to us, he told me to pass it on to any one interested. This is what I remembered:

John was approached by a reporter on one of the islands in the Pacific during WWII, who asked John if he would take him up in the Brodie-equipped Cub airplane. John got approval and they were loaded in the plane, with the reporter in the rear seat. The LST sailors set up for the plane to be launched on the Brodie gear. The take-off was perfect; all was happy; they flew around the islands and then flew back to land on the Brodie gear. Well, on the first attempt to pick up the Brodie ring, John missed and the reporter was not happy. On the second try, he missed again, and the reporter panicked and was screaming at John. On the third pass he missed once again, and John was thinking the reporter was going to do something physical. Well, on the fourth pass John caught the Brodie; the only problem was that on landing on the Brodie, John was supposed to push the stick forward (on land, you pull the stick back), but in all the excitement John pulled the stick back, and that pointed the plane up, resulting in the propeller being knocked off by the cable. The reporter lost it. I have no idea who the reporter was, but I'll bet he never got in a Brodie Cub again. 

     ~ James Edwards
            LST-325 Executive Officer 
 

[Ed. note:  Mr. Kriegman's complete article can be viewed and/or downloaded by clicking here  (MS Word document).]

Virtually everyone who has ever worked on the ship -- or even follows this website regularly -- knows Kenny Adams.  He's right at the top of the list when it comes to the amount of time devoted, work done aboard the ship and the vast array of skills that he freewillingly brings to our efforts.

Kenny will be having back surgery for a severely herniated disc on Friday, 06 AUG.  He's in the hospital right now, mainly because there's no other way to stop this dynamo, despite his severe pain.  He's expected to return home on Monday, 09 AUG. 

If you're not able to send a card, you can email him at military@donet.com.  (But we all know that cards are a lot nicer than emails!)

We wish you a speedy and complete recovery, Kenny.  We all have a lot of admiration for you.  And we hope to see you back in action before too much time goes by.  For the moment, just try to take it easy and not push yourself too hard, okay?

     ~ LST-325 WebSkipper

There are many beautiful buildings with notable architecture in our Nation’s Capitol, Washington D. C.  Do those who live and work there ever really see the beauty of their surroundings?  It is probably a common sight to most, amidst the bustle of people ... on their way to work, to meetings.  They most likely are caught up in their day-to-day lives, not fully appreciating the rich history of our Nation at the center of it all.

Leisurely tourists want to absorb the atmosphere -- they stop on street corners and gaze up at buildings, look down the long avenues as if peering towards some lofty goal.  Some take a quiet moment in a green area.  Others scurry off and on sightseeing bus tours -- anxious to absorb as much as they possibly can in the time allowed.

One stop on my tour was the Navy Memorial.  Unlike the World War II Memorial, there were no massive pavilions, no Wall of Stars.  The monument appears very simple, very plain -- at first glance.  As I approached the few steps from the street, I noticed the words etched into the face of the second step -- THE NAVY MEMORIAL.  No famous quotations.  No eloquent phrases. 

How could three simple words convey such profound feelings? 

I look up and see two masts, flying brightly colored signal flags overhead.  The wind is whipping those flags about, but I am determined to try to read them!  I can make out some of the flags, but the message is beyond my skill level.  I smile as I think of a Signalman I know.  I will be sure to take a photograph to share with him.  I think about how fitting it is that those flags are part of the Memorial.  Conveying a message not only through the flags but through the monument itself. 

The brochure we were given indicated that Pierre L'Enfant had planned a Navy Memorial over 200 years ago (during the layout and planning of the Capitol), but it wasn’t until the late 1970’s when Admiral Arleigh A. Burke, USN (Ret.), and his committee of military and civilian leaders formed the Navy Memorial Foundation and actually began the efforts to bring the Memorial into existence.  The Foundation planned, raised funds and saw to fruition the completion of the Navy Memorial and the Navy Heritage Center.  On this visit there would not be time to view both properly, so I chose to spend time at the Memorial. 

Climbing the few steps, I glanced ahead and hesitated ... there, spread before me on the granite flagstones of the monument was a map of the world.  Each continent, each ocean, each river is highlighted.  If one has never been able to grasp how large our world is in relationship to an individual, all they need to do is to spend time gazing at that map and pondering of the ratio of space.  The land mass portions of the map seem dull.  In contrast, each body of water is polished to a high sheen, much like the surface of the water on a calm summer day, reflecting the light heavenward.  Contemplating the areas representing water, I can almost feel the history of naval vessels as if crossing the sea.  A frigate from the 1500’s or a Carrier from today ... all have impacted history and our lives.  All were home to brave Sailors.

To my right, a fountain sprayed water, droplets blown by the breeze.  As the spray subsided, the sound of rushing water could be heard.  Just as at the World War II Memorial, the movement of water concealed any intrusion of sound.  The water now appears calm, flowing over the sides of the fountain.  Very soon the spray returns ... a cycle ... like the waves, the tides.

The railings near the fountains (east and west) contain bas relief sculptures of various types of naval vessels, salutes to various groups, events or people.  Admiral Farragut is there along with Navy Astronauts, Engineering Duty Officers, Merchant Marine and the USCG.  The Naval Academy and the Navy Family are represented.  Naval Airships, Inland Engagements and John Paul Jones cover a huge expanse of time.  A very wide service range is depicted on these sculptures.  The sculptures are at a level where children can easily view them, not just adults.  There are twenty-six spaces dedicated to all aspects of the Navy.  The brochure states that this may be the "largest bronze relief program ever attempted in American Art."  The first that is pointed out to me contains a Destroyer Escort.  I think about friends Bill, Frank and Tony who served aboard DE’s and wonder to myself, "Have they seen this?"  I move on, looking at each ship type, each commemoration and marveling at how much I have learned -- how much I have yet to learn.  I pause when I see the LST ... thoughts of Dad and his shipmates rush over me.  Oh, how I wish that he could have seen it! 

Ray, a new LST friend from New York, must have sensed my thoughts -- he saw me kneel down, place my hand on the LST sculpture and stopped.  He spoke briefly of his own experiences.  I think Ray shared universal feelings in his quiet comment, "Your Dad would have been proud.  We all are.  Not for us, but for all of the others ... so many didn’t make it home." 

Lightheartedly, many are taking turns having their pictures taken at the statue.  I imagine the seafarers of old who would scoff at such activity, but would secretly smile and be amused.  I am delighted to take Ray’s picture for him as he laughingly comments that his sea bag was never that heavy!

Gazing forward, I am struck to see a present day Sailor standing alone; facing the steps on the opposite side of the monument.   He stands so still, I wonder about his thoughts.  I think about how young he is, how he is willing to risk all.  I think about the rich history of the Navy, the Sailor’s pride in wearing the uniform.  Soon, he turns to the Lone Sailor ... salutes ... and moves away.  I am deeply moved.  Like hundreds of thousands before, he asks for nothing.  No homage.  No recognition.  He quietly pays his respects and returns to duty. 

As I return to the bus, I turn and glance back ... a new group of visitors has entered The Navy Memorial.  Life continues ... cyclical as the tides ... I give unspoken thanks to those who served and those who sacrificed ... and for the young men and women who serve today.

     ~ Susie Bloom

A personal note from the WebSkipper:  I'd like to encourage absolutely anybody and everybody to provide material for this page.  By no means are submissions here restricted to just certain individuals.  The whole purpose of this website (and especially this particular page) is to share information about our LST Memorial with the entire community.  Sitting here 2,000 miles away, I personally don't have a clue what's happening aboard the ship unless somebody tells me.  To date, I've posted absolutely every single tidbit of information that's come my way.  If you have any news to share at all, please just send me an email:  WebSkipper@LSTMemorial.Org -- all of us would be very appreciative, and we all want to know what's going on!

Legend:

[Note:  Effective 01 JUL 04 all references to Gold and Blue Crews will be discontinued.  In addition, the placement of stars next to the names of individuals will also be discontinued.  Crewmembers may be identified on the Crewmember page.]

Archive for August 2004:

• 30 AUG 04 - Emil Kolar Gets a Nice Surprise
• 25 AUG 04 - Update from Ron Maranto
• 23 AUG 04 - The Last American on LST-325, by Bob Barger
• 22 AUG 04 - Update from Capt. Jornlin
• 18 AUG 04 - LST Brodie-Gear Flight Operations, by John C. Kriegsman
• 04 AUG 04 - Kenny Adams to Undergo Back Surgery
• 02 AUG 04 - The Navy Memorial, by Susie Bloom

• 31 JUL 04 - FINAL REMINDER: LST-325 Group Chat Session Tomorrow!
• 24 JUL 04 - The World War II Memorial, by Susie Bloom
• 17 JUL 04 - Update from Erik Eriksen
• 08 JUL 04 - Military Vehicle Preservation Association (MVPA) Annual Convention in Mobile, and LST-325 Crew Come Together, from Kenny & Anna Adams
• 06 JUL 04 - Update from Ron Maranto
• 04 JUL 04 - Online Group Chat Session Scheduled for Sun., 01 AUG, from the LST-325 WebSkipper

CDR Jackson Carter was LST 325's Executive Officer before and during the voyage back from Greece.  In addition to his normal duties, he was an avid ham radio operator and enjoyed communicating during his down-time with other hams all over the world.  He also maintained a website for LST 325 which included all of his situation reports, as well as many photographs showing the hard work done in Greece getting the ship seaworthy – that site is a must-see for anyone who hopes to understand what it took to bring this ship home.  Most importantly, Mr. Carter was one of the finest human beings one could ever hope to meet.  He passed away just five weeks after finally realizing his dream.  This website now carries on the work – and the dream – where he left off, and in his memory.  Thanks, Jack ... for being you.    Fair winds!

In Memoriam Jackson Carter