THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, September 11, 1996 TAG: 9609110602
SECTION: MILITARY NEWS PAGE: A8 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: AT SEA
SOURCE: BY D.L. ADAMS
LENGTH: 65 lines
Dear Joey,
How's my favorite boy? I know it seems like I've been gone a long time, but before you know it, it'll be Christmas, and we'll be out in the front yard having snowball fights again.
In the meantime, you're probably wondering what I do all day long out here on this big ship in the middle of the ocean. You'd be surprised; there are plenty of things to do.
Some things here are just like home, and some things are really different. We have our own store, post office, band, library, video arcade and restaurant.
Well, sort of.
We can play basketball, volleyball, aerobics or ping pong. We even had a hockey rink set up once. We have picnics, barbecues, pizza nights, ice cream nights and bingo nights.
But most of the time we do stuff you don't see every day. Like, we have something called ``flight operations.'' That's when helicopters fly off the ship, circle around in the air and land back on the ship. They do this over and over, just for practice.
We also have what we call ``well-deck operations.'' We flood part of the ship with water and drive smaller boats in and out of the back of the ship. These boats, which carry tanks and jeeps, can drive right up to the shore, drop down their tailgates, and drive those tanks and jeeps right onto a sandy beach. It's almost like a little ferry boat ride, where the ferry takes cars from one place to the other.
Every now and then we have to do what we call an ``underway replenishment.'' Those are really big words, aren't they? It means that the ship is low on gas and we have to fill up the tank. Our car at home holds about 13 gallons of gas. But this big old ship holds 2 million gallons of gas! How would you like to have to pay for that much gas at a gas station?
The way we live on the ship is a little different from home. I sleep in a bunk bed just like you do, but there are three beds in a stack instead of only two. My bed is not as soft and comfortable as yours. Also, I have to share my room with 65 other people, so you should be glad you only have to share your room with your little sister.
We eat in a cafeteria, or what we call the ``mess decks.'' We don't have as many choices as a fast food place, but the food is usually much better than that corn casserole your grandma always makes (don't tell your mom I said that).
We've been stopping in a lot of neat places, and I always get off the ship to go sight-seeing. I've gone on tours in Spain and Italy. Tours are like field trips. You stay in groups and people who live there can tell you came from somewhere else. On one of my tours I had to follow around a lady holding up an umbrella; she was our guide. Get Mom to show you where Spain and Italy are on the map.
Well, I'm going to say good-bye for now, but I'll write again soon. Take care of your little sister for me, and don't forget to say your prayers every night. And remember, no matter how far away I am, I'm always thinking of you. If you look at the stars at night as I do, you'll feel that much closer to me because those are the same stars I'm looking at.
Love, Daddy
P.S. Thank you very much for the ice cream bars you sent me in your care package. At least I think that's what they were. But maybe next time you should send me some pretzels. MEMO: Lt. (j.g.) D.L. Adams is fire control officer of the amphibious
assault ship Saipan. by CNB