This is a powerful tribute. Written for the Marines, however, this could

apply to all services.I doubt if there will be a dry eye amongst you.......

http://www.pcsuccess.us/yrg/farewellmarine_final.swf

This is the U. S. Marine Corps at it Best. Always taking care of their

fellow Marine. How true the words but how sad the pictures.

We should all render a Hand Salute here no matter where you are! They earned it!

Semper Fi (Always Faithful)

Top

Yeah!!!

And right off the press, well off to wire at any rate. I just got a phone call from John Zappitello and we are scheduled for our reunion next year at the same weekend in Lebanon. I will send out all details in the regular letter in the spring but will send out a special letter in a few weeks to all who were at the reunion this year and several usual suspects who missed it for some reason or other. We will be using the smaller room next to the Colony Room but I'l bet we will fill it up. Mark your calendars NOW.

36 Engineers are rugged......John Fallon II. Capt. USA Ret.

Marion's note: This is a combined reunion for members of the 36th and 540th! The 36th Engineers are cordially inviting the 540th men and their family members to their bash this fall. I hope to have complete reunion details to you very shortly. Please try and attend this year and make it one hell of a get-together. Let's hear it for the SEAHORSES!

Hey y'all. Doing a bit of research for one of my buddies, Harold Whiting, a 157th Engineer.

http://www.6thcorpscombatengineers.com/Har...roldWhiting.htm

Harold wrote to me yesterday with a request. Seems he is trying to get info regarding a Camp Roosevelt. We are trying to drum up connections of the Internet, but so far have not been successful. Still trying.

Did any of you vets ever go through a Camp Roosevelt in Europe (no not in the states - we are aware that there was one here)?

Here are a few excerpts from Harold this week:

Hi there young lady . need a answer some time , no hurry but i know when it was there but i do not knowwhere and have not found it on the list of camps in France ,On my way home from austria in 1945. I was dischared at camp (roosavelt ?) France can not find any info of the camp this will give you some thing to do. This is where i reinlisted for three years so i know it was there Hope all is well with you HWhiting

In the interim I wrote back and told him what I had and hadn't found yet, but had not given up. He wrote back this morning with a bit more info.

This camp was not a discharge camp it was for stopover of troops with points enough to return home in the late fall. I drove a truck from Austria half way back to this camp my discharge says camp roosevelt . There i got the good news; enlist and get 300 dollars. wow all at once got my money and parted and missed my first ship home wow that is how i got home in dec not oct. long story short memory. i remember the major chewing my but out because i was not on the truck that morning guess my head was alittle mesed up i walked in and forgot to salute well he said how lond did you inlist for i said three years his answer was you will learn to say sir and salute. my answer was YES SIR AND A SALUTE okay hwhiting

From 145th's NCB Cruisebook: OKINAWA, April 1, 1945.

Many of our men got in on the very beginning of the landings. We on the LST's had ringside seats, but we didn't get in until L-plus- two. We did get our share of action for our camp was situated on farmland between two airstrips and a harbor full of ships. The Japanese flyers that came over lived up to their reputation of being nearsighted, for although there were a number of nearby targets more important than we, the flying sons of heaven dropped "hot stuff" too close to us for comfort. The evening of D-plus-two, when we pitched camp, we joked and grinned in levity over the adventure, but after a few experiences of zooming, bombing Japanese planes, flak filled skies, and moaning sirens out interests in abodes centered on safety. Comfort ran a poor second. Biggest joba in April were construction of two roadways, Route No. 1 and Route No. 3, which included access roads; the improvement of Yellow Beach No. 3, one of the main man and supply landings, and access roads to it. One of the most important jobs was the construction of a 150-foot double-double Bailey bridge over the Bishi Gawa at Hiza. This was on Route 1, the main artery feeding supplies south to the battlefront. A crew of 80 men of the 145th built the bridge in two days and a night. The Japanese didn't want the bridge built, and signified their feelings in futile, but dangerous, air raids on the bridge site throughout the night. For their rapid and successful completion of the project, the workers were commended by commander White of the 44th Regiment. Also during April, the 145th constructed a camp for the Island Command, operated DDT mixing station at Yontan airfield, constructed the 3rd Amphibious Corps hospital, operated a water station at Hiza, furnished a bomb and mine disposal crew for all our own projects, numerous others, and for the policing of a large area for unexploded ordinance.The 145th road crews maintained and improved a section of Route No. 6 from Tokeshi to Yamada. Our surver parties did reconnaissance work on airfield sites, and another crew operated coral pits on around the clock schedules. During April the 145th suffered two casualties. In May, men of the 145th constructed a camp and facilities for the commander of construction troops. worked on the first Marine Division cemetery, constucted a large number of facilities for Yontan airfield; helped the 146th battalion establish an advance base construction depot, built the giant Machinato causeway and pontoon dock for unloading ships, salvaged materials and supplies at Naha, constructed many miles of new roads and improved many more miles of existing roads. All of this time other work was being done on our own camp. Our electric shop salvaged and put into operation Japanese equipment such as transformers. our sign shop painted signs that posted almost the whole island; messing facilities and showers were built, and almost from the start we had movies projected on a plywood screen while we sat on coral blocks, boxes and the ground. Throughout this entire period we experienced at least one air raid every night; some nights, an almost continuous succession of them. When an air raid stopped the movies, and they often did, we'd run for our foxholes and then return the next night to see more of the same movies from where we left off. It was toward the end of May that the Japanese tried one of their most daring attacks in our vicinity. With suicidal plans of wrecking grounded planes with grenades and scattering to the hills, they tried an airborne landing of troops on Yontan airfield, just above our camp. Only one plane made a successful landing on the field. Good quality and quantity of our anti-aircraft fire accounted for the others. The Japanese who did land, damaged a number of our planes, but they never got off the field alive. The following morning presented a bloody scene in the vicinity of Yontan airfield. During the next two months our road crew continued their endless job of networking the island wide, smooth, coral-topped highways to replace the one way cart trails that composed most of Okinawa's roadways. And the coral diggers and hauers continued to move out coral for these and other jobs, such as the construction of taxiways at Yonabaru airfield. Workers built a fleet post office at Naval Operations Base to handle the Navy's mail on the island. The 145th also furnished a crew of men and a fleet of trucks in operation of the islands provisional trucking company. In July we moved to a new camp and were back on the pacific ocean again. It was at least a help to look out over the ocean and know you were looking toward home and not China. The battle for Okinawa ended officially on June 22 when the American flag was raised over the island. Lt. Gen. Simon Bolivar Buckner Jr., Commander of the Tenth Army on Okinawa, was killed Monday, June 18. The Okinawa campaign occupied 82 days of fighting. a total of 100,000 Japanese were killed, paid for in American dead at a one-to-13 ratio. It was on June 22 that the 145th was detached from the First Marine Division, to which we had belonged since December 3, 1944.

This narrative is by American Airlines 777 F/O Carrie Muehlbauer.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I was feeling pretty darn good. Sitting in the right seat of my B-777 at London's Heathrow Airport, I just brought up the fuel levers to start her powerful Rolls Royce engines. I have been out of flying for nearly 8 months and was thrilled to be back. My pelvis was healed-my bike accident just another memory in my crazy life. I had a fun lay-over and we were all excited to get home for the Thanksgiving holiday. Flight Attendants were sweet and there was a "buzz" of anticipation as we taxied out of the ramp area. Only about 9 hours and we'll be back at O'Hare. Oh-oh. What's that amber light? A fuel control problem? But we're going home. Back to the gate. I asked the ground controller for permission to return to the gate-to work out our problem. I think he heard the dread in my voice and said "yes, luv, you may taxi as you wish to your gate" I felt better since he called me "Luv". Three hours later we were on our way West. It was dark now and we were pretty tired, but were happy to be going to the good ol' US. TaTa now London control!

We were a little crabby but had a great, smooth flight home over the North Atlantic. Over Greenland the stars above us have never been brighter. As we rumbled along, we grew weary. We'd miss our commuter flight home. Have to pay $50 bucks for a hotel. Now one of the flight attendants could not fly her trip the next day because of duty day. We only picked up about 30 minutes of pay for all our efforts. I couldn't sleep on my break. Someone's feet hurt. Always some complaint.

I spent the night at my friend Megan's in Chicago. It was nice. I wanted to get home-I'd been gone three nights now. Couldn't seem to get going. No energy. Headed back to O'Hare. Slightly groggy and borderline crabby. Then it happened. My fog cleared and I had a bit of an epiphany. Right there at gate H-4.

As I slogged toward my gate to return to Minneapolis, I saw a crowd gathered at H-4. Pilots, flight attendants, ramp workers, mechanics, passengers. All shapes and sizes, all ages and colors. Balloons and Hawaiian leis, music and banners. But mostly I saw the American flags. Hundreds of them. Then I remembered. Today was the day he was coming home. His face haunted me. The posters in our operations with his picture. His beautiful face and handsome, youthful smile. I saw him everywhere. I knew his story. I prayed for him. Bryan Anderson was coming home. Bryan is an American Airlines crew chief. He works on our planes and takes special care of them to get them ready to fly. A very important job. Bryan is also a member of the Army Reserves and had been serving in Iraq. Serving until he was nearly killed. Bryan lost three limbs one day. Three limbs. He left two legs and an arm, somewhere a long way from here. His family is here. I see them. His Mom and Dad and Brother and a lot of other young family members. Bryan has been in Washington DC for a long time in rehab. He is finally, finally coming home. I get to see him. I will wait. I will miss my plane home. I don't care. I feel I need to see him. A big burly American Airlines mechanic standing next to me, tells me his wish is to walk of the plane today. I will wait. The crowd is huge. It swells. Now passengers have heard what is happening and they join us. Here comes the plane. The fire trucks greet it and spray their water cannons in a salute to him as they inch toward the chocks. All of a sudden, a blue sea of comrades in uniform rush toward them. They are waving flags and clapping and yelling and screaming. Bryan is Home!!!!!! I look at the big hairy guys near me and they are crying. My pilot friends are crying. Strangers are crying. I am crying.

When Bryan walked off the jetbridge and into our arms we nearly collapsed. I don't know him personally, but he is my family. He works for my airline. He served my country. He walked back to us so we are free. He melted my crabbiness and made me ashamed that I complained that I was three hours late. That I missed one night in my bed. That I got the chicken not the steak on the way home from London. I have no room to complain. None of us do. Bryan does. But, he doesn't. His Mama embraced him and everything is so good. Right now. Right here at gate H-4.

Now it is Thanksgiving eve and I know what I am thankful for. I am thankful for my health and my family and my friends. I am thankful for the opportunity to have all of this put in perspective for me when I least expected it. So when you sit down with those you love, please think of Bryan and all of our armed forces who have given so much. Some won't come home and some will leave pieces behind. We have so much to be thankful for. That's why I'm sending this-so you know that I'm glad you're in my life. Let's hope that Thanksgiving 2007 will find us free of war and everyone back home. Happy Thanksgiving. Carrie (Mary)