tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29068194075845765582024-02-20T07:39:02.074-08:00Roger WestonAction-Adventure Thriller WriterRoger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-29424324981893018282023-02-03T22:58:00.005-08:002023-02-04T21:47:27.335-08:00Death’s Icy Grip: The Shipwreck of Lydia Ingraham<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p style="height: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJtJ5JyJoh9vHD363RRsZOOo30HLzb-Z5fQhXdv0U1ZVXUZnj7i4peaLIAKzJ2oydQ3sFI7SuIO-1NHXX1ldo7xK6tzFQt_Wc1ojT9vwlMdi_H0QVtnnQPLAwHLcA5NfwrBN46gJLHbA4gOVDmrg_yGlUApO-Oug-JOogX-gucs3PmP__j2Smz4NQ/s1000/Scooner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="1000" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJtJ5JyJoh9vHD363RRsZOOo30HLzb-Z5fQhXdv0U1ZVXUZnj7i4peaLIAKzJ2oydQ3sFI7SuIO-1NHXX1ldo7xK6tzFQt_Wc1ojT9vwlMdi_H0QVtnnQPLAwHLcA5NfwrBN46gJLHbA4gOVDmrg_yGlUApO-Oug-JOogX-gucs3PmP__j2Smz4NQ/s320/Scooner.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">by Roger Weston</span><br /><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">In 1850, one of the most shocking shipwrecks in history
unfolded near Owl’s Head Light on the coast of Maine.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It was December 22 near midnight. A storm was raging in
the dark of night. An anchored schooner was rocked so violently that her cables snapped. The storm thrashed her around like a toy sailboat in a raging river. She
crashed over high waves and plunged down into troughs where waterfalls of
saltwater blasted milky froth over every exposed inch of her ship-works. Windblown spray froze on contact. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The doomed schooner was driven across the bay, and for
unknown reasons the captain was not even onboard. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The only people manning the drifting vessel were Richard
Ingraham, his fiancé Lydia Dyer, and deckhand Roger Elliot. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The two crewmen could not control the drifting,
storm-tossed vessel, which ran aground on rocks just offshore.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">As the ship took on water, Lydia edged out of a hatchway
and onto the slippery deck with a comforter and a large blanket. Ingraham
wrapped the blankets around her as protection against the freezing winds. He put an arm around her and escorted her carefully along the rail as
the storm soaked them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The lovers found a sheltered part of the deck against the
taffrail where they crouched and shivered like wet dogs. The schooner shook and
shivered as waves thrashed her sides and decks. Wind shrieked through the
rigging like the howls of enraged demons.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Sea spray was constantly freezing in the rigging and on
every inch of exposed surface. Even the wet clothes of the victims hardened
with ice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“Wrap the comforter around yourself and snuggle against
the taffrail,” Ingraham told Lydia.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Ingraham covered himself with a blanket and lay down next
to his fiancé.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Elliot suddenly appeared on decks. He grabbed a door jamb
to steady himself. His hair whipped in the wind. He made his way to the others.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">With a blanket he brought up from below decks, he lay
down next to Ingraham. However, Elliot did one thing different. He pulled his
knife from its sheath and kept it handy so that he could chip through the ice
of his frozen blanket and ensure he could breathe and escape if the situation
became even more dire.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">For hours, waves relentlessly broke over the rails, and
sea spray continually showered the frozen vessel. Throughout the night, Elliot
shook violently and endured through misery and psychological terrors. He repeatedly
saw himself as a ghastly corpse sinking in the ocean and devoured by crabs. Besides
nightmarish visions, his blood ran cold in his veins. His mind sifted over his
life as he contemplated the injustice of having his life robbed from him by
fate.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">He listened to crashing waves of the sea that he had
always loved and which he now saw for what it was—utterly uncaring and probably
malevolent in the extreme. Somehow he survived the night though he feared that frostbite and hypothermia were closing in. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Morning brought a new situation. As the tide turned and
went out, Elliot lay there shivering and compulsively chipped away at his ice
prison.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">His fingers were so numb that he could barely hold his knife,
but eventually, he chipped away enough ice to break away a six-inch thick,
two-foot long section. This created an escape hatch where he was able to slide
out of his icy grave. After struggling to his feet, Elliot could see Ingraham
and Lydia. They appeared to be dead and frozen beneath six inches of solid ice.
He could see Lydia’s face, and her expression looked serene as if she’d died
peacefully. Her hair spread out around her face like a fan. Yellow locks of
frozen hair spread out around her face like rays of sunshine. Her blue-gray
complexion brought a scripture into Elliot’s mind: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dust to dust, ashes to ashes</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Shivering, he spoke earnest words for their immortal
souls. His numb lips mumbled the 23<sup>rd</sup> Psalm.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Elliot could see clearly that the tide had gone out and
the ship was left on the rocks, the water having pulled back. He was amazed to
see that he could simply walk ashore. The danger of the sea had retreated some, her
cold depths receding. What had been a raging bit of offshore storm at sea was
now a beach with rocky hills and jagged saddles.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Staggering ashore, he threw a look back at the tragic
fate of his beloved ship. With sadness he saw that the schooner that had broken
in two. It looked like two icebergs had washed ashore.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">After Elliot turned his back to the sea, a rogue wave rushed him and
slammed him down, his head striking a rock. He lay there unconscious and facing
certain death. Only the splash of another wave restored his senses. He was
sufficiently revived to regain his feet and struggle to get beyond the surf
zone.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Several times, he slipped on the frozen shore and fell on
the solid ice. Pain brought flashes of heat to wounded bones deep within his
half-frozen flesh. It was hard to walk and harder to get up off the ground
because he wore hard, frozen clothes that chaffed against his skin and limited
his movement. His numb feet felt like aching blocks of ice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Elliot pressed on through the snow and ice but found his
way blocked at the high-tide mark by long, sloping snowdrifts at the beachhead.
With no choice but to endure, he slogged through the deep snow, counting his
progress by inches. Step-by-step, he pushed and dug through massive drifts.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Finally, he found a roadway, but he had no idea which way
to go. He knew that if he guessed wrong, he would surely die of hypothermia
before he found salvation. However, he was able to see the direction of the
hoof-prints of horses.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">One-step-at-a-time with numb feet and toes, he followed
the hoof-prints in the snow. Every time he fell, he climbed back onto his miserable
feet. His frozen pants chaffed against his knees. He eventually found his way
to Owl’s Head Light, but the door to the tender’s house was locked and the
windows shuttered. Nobody was there. Elliot kept on and on down the road. His
inner dialogue was making peace with his maker because his intuition told him a
grim tale of approaching death. It was as if he was walking through an arctic
dream of tragic destiny.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Then the unexpected rose up like a mirage in the vast
white silence of a wintery desert. Through the frigid snap morning he heard
sleigh bells. As the mirage emerged in the winter wonderland, he saw horses
pulling a </span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">low,
one-horse box-sleigh on runners. That was the last thing he remembered as he
lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
sleigh master was Light Keeper William Masters of Owl’s Head Light. Masters
lifted Elliot into the sleigh and drove the horses toward the lighthouse. He
carried Elliot inside and lay him on the floor. He cut Elliot’s frozen clothes
off his freezing body. He put the poor man to bed and covered him with snug
blankets.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Half-conscious,
half-delerious, Elliot was ranting incomprehensible nonsense. Masters tried to
calm the panicked victim, assuring him that he would make it. Then Masters
realized what his patient was saying.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Elliot
was making desperate pleas for two other shipwreck victims.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You
have to get them!” Elliot pleaded. “Before the tide comes back!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I
will.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Hurry!
They took shelter under the taffrail.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Just
calm down and get some sleep. I’ll leave right now.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I
had to come ashore! I didn’t want to leave them.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“It’s
okay,” Masters said. “I’m leaving now. Go to sleep.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Masters
rang the lighthouse bell, which signaled to every able-bodied man in the area
to hurry for a rescue effort.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
tide was rising as a dozen men boarded the doomed wreck. With picks and axes
they hacked at the ice that was covering the dead sailor and his beautiful
fiancé. A fire axe hacked into the ice inches from Lydia’s lovely face which
the men could see under the ice like a face behind a window. Soon the big
picturesque piece of ice was broken free.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ten
men carried the slab of ice with its frozen lovers. They handed the slab over
the rail and down to men who stood waist deep in the rising surf.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“They’re
dead alright,” one of the men said. “At least they’ll get a Christian burial.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“We’ve
got to try and bring them back to life,” said another.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
couple of the men scoffed at the absurd prospect, but most of them agreed they
must try.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
huge ice slab was carried ashore and to the sleigh. Men strained and groaned as
they loaded it onto the timbers. A whip snapped in the winter wind. The horses
pulled their load through snow as they trotted down the path. Flying snow kicked
up from hooves and covered the ice slab until Lydia’s face and floating locks
of hair were no longer visible beneath the ice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At
the lighthouse, the slab was carried inside into Master’s kitchen. Over and
over, water was poured over the ice. At first it was cold treatment, but each
bucket brought warmer and warmer water. The ice slowly melted off the doomed
sailor and his tragic fiancé. Soon her green eyes were exposed to the air and
her golden wet hair stuck to her face and gathered in bunches around her ears.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Masters
and three helpers slowly and carefully moved the hands and feet of their
patients. As arms and legs gained in flexibility, the rescuers worked faster,
yet with tenderness. He and others worked to massage their bodies. This tiring
work was continued for half an hour.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then
Masters was startled. He jumped back from his patient and gasped in horror.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What
is it?” asked another.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Masters
pointed. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Her fingers moved!</i>”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rescuers looked at the body with wonder and amazement and then at each other. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Keep
working!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lydia
was the first to recover. After hours of constant attention, she made small
movements. Ingraham took an hour longer to come out of his coma-like state.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Where
are we?” he asked.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Masters
told him the whole story.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ingraham
looked at Lydia, and she gave him a fragile and slight smile.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
two patients were covered in blankets and allowed to sip lukewarm water. By the
next day they recovered sufficiently to eat a tiny meal. Weeks passed in
painstaking rehab before they could walk around. Months passed before they made
full recoveries.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Eventually,
Ingraham and Lydia were married. The wedding was held in early spring of the
following year, and their special day was visited by a late
snowstorm.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Roger
Elliot never went to sea again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p></div>Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-7367645543171158092020-11-28T11:11:00.010-08:002021-10-25T14:50:31.754-07:00<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The
Cindy Martin Story<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYmdgrqMREu6ara3ndJCMeYDWPc05auN86G9YQEYbX6tyznF_FL2AnYlJ0xWLH30j3IXLuxNwqFa4me6jbz6aA9NGSE7nug2SyPk_ZMTLpKbX9JBnCuDESQNk1bDyqUK7XdlBO9qV30g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="559" data-original-width="718" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYmdgrqMREu6ara3ndJCMeYDWPc05auN86G9YQEYbX6tyznF_FL2AnYlJ0xWLH30j3IXLuxNwqFa4me6jbz6aA9NGSE7nug2SyPk_ZMTLpKbX9JBnCuDESQNk1bDyqUK7XdlBO9qV30g/" width="285" /></a></span></div><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;">An explosion left her broken, bloodied, and missing a
leg. This devastating violence happened to a young girl who had spent her whole
life up to that point overcoming heartbreak and adversity. Neglect, abandonment,
and abuse overshadowed the childhood of Cindy Martin. But after joining the Air
Force to escape her hardships, she could never have guessed that her new
journey was leading her right into the middle of a terrorist attack that would shatter
her life and change her future. Cindy had been forged by tough breaks all her
life, and with the lessons she learned along the way, she was a natural
survivor.</span></p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Cindy learned the necessity of diligent, hard work at a
young age. She never enjoyed an ideal childhood with a supportive mother and
father to guide her through life’s challenges and keep her safe from harm. In
fact, Cindy was only three years old when she started caring for her younger
sister. By first grade she was ironing clothes and helping around the house.
But in addition, it fell upon her to get her brother and sister ready for
school. And before she could do that, she had to feed her neighbor’s animals. The
reason she took on the extra roles of mother and provider in grade school is
that her mother and father were heavy drinkers. As a result, her mother slept
in. Not only that, her father was often out of town on work. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Depression followed her and threatened to destroy her
life, but Cindy learned to overcome her depression. She had a horse, so to get
a rest from her burdens she often took long rides into the wilderness areas
near her home. She would lie under the fruit trees and look at the clouds. She
would cry in the foothills and orchards of Loomis, California. She took hikes
with her dog. Years earlier, some childhood friends took her to summer Vacation
Bible School. Now, as she rode in the hills and walked orchards with her dog,
she found God in nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Danger of abuse and the threats of victimization taught
Cindy to reach out for help. With an absent father, some saw it as an
opportunity to take advantage of her. It began when a neighbor boy abused her
and used threats to keep her quiet. Things got even worse when a creep
approached her in the 7<sup>th</sup> grade and tried to abduct her. She ran,
and running probably saved her life. She called the police, but got no
response. Then at school she was called to the principal’s office. The police
were there and wanted to know what had happened. When her parents were
mentioned, Cindy said she wasn’t going to get any help from her parents. Later,
a man who knew her family tried to groom her to be a mistress. At first, Cindy
was frozen in fear. Then she confronted him, and he backed off. Taking action
and reaching out to others was proving essential, but that’s not all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Around this time, the lessons of prayer touched her life.
Cindy’s grandmother in Michigan often prayed for her. On a visit to her
grandmother’s, she went to church. Seeds were planted that would be
crucial to her later on when tragedy struck. And tragedy was going to strike
very soon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">In high school, Cindy learned about herself and her place
in the world—aside from her home life. She was blessed to have teachers that
encouraged her because she was super shy. One of them told her, “Be more
outgoing. You have a lot going for you. You need to get out and enjoy school.”
Kind words like this gave her confidence that she desperately needed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">As a young lady, she also learned new kinds of
responsibility. During high school, someone had to pick her mother up at the
bar close to midnight, and Cindy was always there for her mother, who was
fighting her own personal battles. However, it was not easy to shoulder this
burden and also be up early for her other responsibilities and getting to
school on time. After high school, she got a chance to work on a ranch in
Oregon. She cooked pies and pot roast for the workers during harvest. She took
her responsibilities seriously and always did her best. She was treated like
part of the family, and she cared for the farmer’s kids. She taught them
responsibility, making them clean their room. She was always very strict with
the kids. When she came home past curfew one night, the farmer and his wife
were not happy that she had misled them. For the first time outside of school,
Cindy saw that there were grown-ups who cared about her and worried about her.
From then on, she took her responsibility in communication to others seriously.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just as she was
starting to find her way in life, she took a detour that would teach her new
lessons that would carry her through extreme personal trials.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">One day, her friend Patsy said, “Let’s join the
military.” Cindy thought it was a good idea, but when the day came, Patsy
backed out. Cindy, however, followed through. She joined the Air Force in May
1978. She was smart and did well in the military. She thrived in electronics at
her airbase in Germany. She was the first woman in the microwave communication
shop, dealing with communication from microwave towers. She went to fiber
optics school and often worked all night installing fiber optics systems in the
microwave shop. This was agreeable because she had married a violent alcoholic,
thinking she could fix him. That didn’t work out, and her problems were just
beginning. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">In 1980, ten soldiers, including Cindy, went to
Oktoberfest. There were thousands of people from all over the world, many
flocking to cement buildings full of beer drinkers. On the third night, Cindy
and four others were walking into the festival grounds. Outside, the atmosphere
was much like a state fair in America. People were drinking, eating, and
singing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Cindy was about to learn to persevere through extreme
pain and adversity. Also at Oktoberfest was a fascist extremist who wanted to
kill innocents for political reasons on September 26, 1980. He was rigging explosives
when the bomb went off prematurely. The terrorist’s body landed on a taxi. Over
two hundred were injured. Thirteen were killed. The surprised taxi driver hurried
over and put a tourniquet on Cindy’s severely bleeding leg, probably saving her
life. Cindy landed in hospital with shrapnel in her back. Part of her nose was
blown off. She was partially paralyzed. She had major shoulder injuries. She
had a head injury, a major concussion. Most of her right foot was gone. And she
lost a leg. She had no pain in her left side due to the shrapnel wound in her
back; however, her right side was in constant pain for two years. She had major
skin grafts on her back. Specialists built her prosthetic legs. She spent the
next nine months in the hospital. Through it all, she persevered, always
remembering the kind words of her high school teachers, the love of the people
in her squadron, and the love of the ranch family. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Along with perseverance, she learned to have a sense of
humor. Being a 23 year old girl in the hospital for nine months and having to
use a bed pan and being assisted by young men was humiliating at first.
Finally, she learned to laugh and not take herself too seriously. Also, the man
who built her leg was a Vietnam vet, an amputee, who was a crazy-fun guy. In a
way, he set the tone and helped her to have a sense of humor in the midst of
her circumstances. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Along with her sense of humor, she learned to never feel
sorry for herself. She would always read about someone who had it worse off
than her. Therefore, she looked at the positive. She always remembered
something her father had told her: “Only wimps whine.” It also became clear to
her that complaining never did her any good. But even more important, all the
ups and downs showed her a pattern with adversity—a pattern that could bring
hope into darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">She learned that problems<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>are
temporary. She says, “So many people end their lives too quickly when they
think they have problems. Everyone is so valuable. Everyone can do good for
someone else. If I can convince others to believe that then evil doesn’t win.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">But there was another lesson that gave Cindy strength. After
all she suffered due to the terror attack, after persevering through the pain,
trauma, and heart break, she now felt there was nothing she couldn’t do. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Cindy went on to live a full life and overcome obstacles
every single day with a great attitude. After raising a family and after her
husband passed away, she went back to college at age sixty. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Just walking across the stage to get her degree was a
challenge, but it was also another great victory in the school of life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, sans-serif">Check out Cindy's inspirational story on YouTube<br />https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPYTK8S6THM</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-42443564687360238662018-12-03T16:03:00.001-08:002020-06-14T23:23:58.108-07:00 The Orphan and the Kamikaze<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>The Leonard Blake Story</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHHdSY3ZDA5o0wZQYUDLgGv8jfEakqMJdsncLujSXBYgHWM691gvk4bStShZxIT8TBdunBc3mDSw0rXIor5WkfqHq9iC-T0ylG-Jcz7fOf-CriCFPbGlksIo__FUbSL5lCGL12jV8b6E/s1600/The+Orphan+and+the+Kamikaze.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="958" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHHdSY3ZDA5o0wZQYUDLgGv8jfEakqMJdsncLujSXBYgHWM691gvk4bStShZxIT8TBdunBc3mDSw0rXIor5WkfqHq9iC-T0ylG-Jcz7fOf-CriCFPbGlksIo__FUbSL5lCGL12jV8b6E/s400/The+Orphan+and+the+Kamikaze.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">by Roger Weston</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At age 15, the clock was ticking for an orphan named
Leonard. He was moving toward a fateful day that would change his life forever.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In 1942, the Japanese and Germans were killing a lot
of American sailors. The Germans were doing tremendous damage on the East Coast
of the United States—<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in American waters</span>.
In the first six months after the Pearl Harbor attack and the US entrance into
the war, German U-boat submarines sank nearly six hundred American ships, which
was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">half</i> of the US merchant ships.
Meanwhile, the Japanese were waging a war of their own against merchant ships
in the Pacific and Indian Oceans. They sank 125 merchant ships in 1942. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They were killing so many sailors that few people
wanted to join the US merchant marine. Len, who was 15 at the time, saw a sign
that said, “Serve your country. Join the US Maritime Service.” This looked good
to him so he went to see the recruiter, who changed his age on the application.
At Catalina, Len learned he was also in the Coast Guard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
a 1945 press release, the deputy administrator for the War Shipping Administration, Captain Macauley stated, <span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">"Men
are still needed to man merchant ships in excess of these presently available
and will be needed for some months to come. The job of the war time Merchant
Marine has not been completed. Millions of our armed forces must be brought
home and supplies must be carried to the occupation forces throughout the
world. Supplies must also be carried for the rehabilitation of devastated
areas."</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fifteen year old Len finished his training in
Catalina. He was offered a chance to become a trainer, but he said, “No, I want
to go to sea.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His first deployment was on a ship named the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">SS John Constantine</i>, carrying 2,700 tons
of bombs to Calcutta, India. Three ships sailed out of San Pedro harbor en
route to Calcutta via the Indian Ocean and Australia, waters patrolled and
targeted by the Japanese. Of the three ships, only one survived and completed
its mission. Len was fortunate to be on that ship. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But it was not exactly smooth sailing. In the
Atlantic, two men from his ship were lost overboard in storms. These men died
serving their country by manning the supply lines. Throughout history, such
duty has been carried out by soldiers and sailors. <span style="color: #a6a6a6; mso-themecolor: background1; mso-themeshade: 166;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Back in America, the captain and first mate of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">SS John Constantine</i> approached Len and
said, “We want you to go to officer’s training school in Galveston, Texas.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len shook his head. “I want to go back to sea.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before that happened, he was thrown off a bus in
Georgia for sitting in the back seat. Whites were not allowed in the back.
He insisted on sitting where he wanted—and was thrown off. This was before Rosa
Parks captured headlines for sitting in the wrong place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In Los Angeles, Len boarded a new ship, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Marianne Livermore</i>. Len was happy. This
was how he wanted to serve. The clock was ticking for the young orphan. He was
moving closer to the event that would change his destiny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">On April 12, 1945, President Franklin Roosevelt
died. The paperwork was on his desk to make merchant sailors into official veterans,
but he had not yet signed it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">On the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Marianna
Livermore</i>, Len sailed out into the vast Pacific Ocean. He spent twenty days
at sea, manning the 3” Fifty Forward gun. He was also trained in survival at
sea since they were sailing through hostile waters and expected to engage in
anti-aircraft combat if necessary—as well as survival in case their ship was
sunken and they were adrift. Other sailors manned a 4-inch gun on the stern. The
ship sailed from San Pedro to Hawaii and Okinawa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Despite the dangers, Len enjoyed his cruise across
the Pacific. The mood among the crew was happiness. They were just happy kids
doing their duty. In Okinawa Harbor, Kamikazes attacked every day. Some of them
dive bombed and hit other ships in the harbor. Gunners on Len’s ship took out
three of the Kamikazes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One day with the<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">
Marianna Livermore </i>still in</span><span style="font-family: "arial black" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Okinawa
Harbor, an airplane was sighted. Gunnery Officer Signorey gave the order not to
fire on the plane because he thought it was an American Kingfisher recon plane.
By the time the mistake was recognized, it was too late for corrective action.
A Japanese Kamikaze plane carrying an armor-piercing bomb flew in and hit the
wheelhouse. The captain was cut in half. Ten officers were killed. The armor-piercing
bomb went through two decks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At this moment, Len had been off duty and was
catching a catnap in the foc’sle. He was jolted awake when the ship shuttered.
He jumped up and ran for the foc’sle door, but shrapnel hit his legs and the
detonation blew him through the escape panel in the foc’sle door. He lay in the
hall in a pool of blood. His pants had been blown clean off of his legs. He was
wounded everywhere. His eye socket was broken. His calf muscles hung outside of
his legs; they were moving and twitching. He had lost part of his left foot,
and the Achilles tendon was severed on his right foot. The bones in both legs
were shattered, and he would later learn that he’d lost 2” of bone in his left
leg. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Little did Len know then, but he would be in
constant pain for 74 years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He was taken to a hospital. He was bleeding all over
his body, and as the weeks passed, he was confined to hospitals in Okinawa,
Guam, and then Hawaii. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before a scheduled surgery to close persistent
bleeding wounds, the doctor wanted to amputate both legs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No,” Len said. “Forget about it. I’d rather die.
Just roll me over there and let me die.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’ll never walk again,” the doctor said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t care. Swear to me you won’t amputate.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Alright, alright, I won’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Swear it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Fine. I swear. We’ll see what we can do, son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After the surgery, the doc dropped by to visit Len,
whose casts were red. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We couldn’t close all the wounds,” he said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The weeks passed slowly
in hospitals in Okinawa and Guam. Len was in the hospital for his seventeenth
birthday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After being flown to Hawaii, he had two more
surgeries. Nine surgeons all said he’d never walk again. With tears in her
eyes, a nurse named Lieutenant Fru told him, “Lenny, you’re not in the armed
services. We have to transfer you to a public health service hospital—the
Oakland Naval Hospital.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len would spend 2 ½ months in that hospital. This
was a painful transition for more than one reason. Not only had the armed
services just turned their back on him, but in the Navy, they’d given him
morphine to deal with the pain. In San Francisco, they prescribed codeine. He
was allergic to codeine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Even worse, they called him psychotic. Why? Because
he had recurring nightmares about his trauma. He dreamed about being blown
through the foc’sle door and sitting in a pool of blood. He saw his friend T.J.
Garner crawling through the door with 3- and 4-inch holes in his back. T.J.
reached out for him and then fell dead. If the nightmares weren’t bad enough, Len
could barely sleep because of the constant pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Navy guys on that ship got purple hearts, but Len
and the merchant mariners—who served as back-up gunners—were denied the metal
or any recognition or appreciation. Everyone got a Mariner’s medal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lenny’s good friend Bob Blake was killed topside on
the flying bridge. He was an ordinary seaman and backup gunner for the 20mm
gun. Bob was firing his gun when killed. All together, four navy men and seven
merchant marines were killed in the attack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He was discharged by the Armed Services of America
of USA. He had always been told that he was in the armed services. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The parents of his friend Bob Blake came to see Lenny
in the hospital, and they offered to adopt him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After they left, Lenny begged the doctors to
let him go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Doc Jones said, “You’ll never walk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, I will.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“If you can walk on crutches, I’ll let you go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Give me the crutches.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lenny practiced on crutches, walking across the
room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The doctor said, “I thought you’d be bed-ridden for
life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The doctor weighed him before his checkout.
Previously, he’d weighed 160 pounds. Now he weighed in at 90 pounds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The nurse gave him $20 to get to LA. He used canes
and crutches to leave the hospital. He would need a cane for the rest of his
life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In Los Angeles, he went to public health where they
put him in a gurney. Lenny heard one doctor say to another, “I have no sympathy
for these merchant marines. They’re just a bunch of draft dodgers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len fumed inside. Anger filled him with resentment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One day, he was reading the newspaper and it said,
“Vets admitted to Belmont High.” This caught his attention because, as an
orphan, he’d left school at age 13 and worked in an iron foundry. So now he
went down to the high school, and they told him to come back in a week. They
told him this every week for six weeks. Finally, a guy growled at him, “We
don’t want your kind here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This was painful. Once again he’d been insulted
because of the rumors being spread in the media that merchant marines hadn’t
served their country with honor. Articles said they didn’t help fight, but he
was trained in gunnery and manned the guns at sea. His close friend Bob Blake
had died firing at the Kamikaze. Len was discharged from the Navy after four
years in the Naval Reserve. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Due to experiences like these, Len never asked the
government for any help. He now hated the government with a passion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The parents of his good friend Bob Blake had visited
Len in the hospital and adopted him. Now they spent all their money trying to
help him with his medical challenges. They had lost their son on that ship. Now
Lenny was their son, and they gave everything they could. However, when Mr.
Blake lost his job, they fell on even more hard times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len worked a number of hard jobs. He plucked
chickens, pumped gas, and drove a truck. All the while he was bitter against
the government and the way they’d treated him. He was angry at his father who’d
left him as a child. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He had always walked to work, but now he bought a Harley
motorcycle and soon was running the Vagos Gang. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">One day he was pulled over on Hollywood Blvd. He got
off his Harley, faced the two approaching cops, and challenged them to a fight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The burly cop said, “You won’t beat us. Better join
us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This caught Len off guard, and he decided to apply
for a job in the police department. He ended up getting hired and went to work
even though he was still dealing with open wounds from Okinawa. He always
worked two jobs. He moonlighted driving an armored car or as a dispatcher for a
trucking company or other jobs. He even worked for the district attorney. The
PTSD was always with him, and every night he had dreams about the Kamikaze attack in Okinawa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Meanwhile, news commentators like Walter Winchell
and Westbrook Pegler spread rumors that the merchant marines were getting $400
per month in assistance, which was not true. One news reporter named Ernie Pyle
was given the Purple Heart, but Len was denied. He was told, “No, your ship was
owned by a company.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What they avoided saying was that the War Shipping
Administration was in charge of all shipping. A Coast Guard commander said, “No
purple heart.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Merchant Mariners
finally got very-limited veteran status in 1988 after a long court battle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">However, Len
had little interest in dealing with the government. His anger against the way
that he’d been treated was always painful to think about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One of his
friends insisted that he “Go to the VA and get what’s coming to you!” Finally,
Len was persuaded, but was disappointed by the limited assistance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There was
one benefit that gave him hope, however: at age 60, he qualified for the GI
Bill and education. First, he had to visit a doctor to qualify. Len wasn’t too
worried about this. He’d been in pain all his life and the wounds had never
healed. They remained open until 2010. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A government worker asked him, “Were you wounded?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes, all over. My head was caved in, and my feet
were destroyed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Okay, you’ll have to see a doctor to qualify.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So that’s what Len did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A man walked into the doctor’s office. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The so-called doctor rudely said, “Let me see your
left leg!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Want to see my right leg?” Len asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What for?” the man blurted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The open wounds.” Len's wounds had remained open almost
fifty years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The doc said, “Those hammer toes and that cut didn’t
come from that wound.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Maybe you want to hear what happened,” Len said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The doctor shook his head. “I’m writing. Be quiet.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Despite his anger, Len was quiet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let me see you walk,” the doctor said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len limped across the office. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Why do you walk like that?” the doctor said.
“You’re through.” He left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To this day, Len doubts that he was even a doctor at
all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Six months later, Len got a letter in the mail. It
said, “Your wound doesn’t qualify you for any VA compensation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After another six months, he was informed that the
government would cover 10%. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“That’s wrong,” his friend, Dr. Frank Rogers insisted.
“You have to appeal it!” Rogers was an old field sergeant from World War Two. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len was reluctant. He wanted nothing to do with the
government, but finally agreed. After his appeal, he was awarded 30%
assistance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Doc Rogers was incensed and pushed him further and
he got 40%.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When he appealed again, he was told by the VA in Los
Angeles, “We gave you 40%. That nullified your appeal.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ultimately, $250 per month is not adequate for a man
whose medical expenses have been far higher and have lasted for seven decades.
At age sixteen, he served his country in the merchant marines and suffered
terrible injuries. He could never run again. He is still in pain at age 90. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Every night, Leonard Blake dreams of the day when he
watched his friend T.J. Garner die in front of him, the day when Bob Blake died
firing the 20mm gun. Not a day passes when Len does not think of his old
shipmates who gave their lives Okinawa. Every day, he says good morning to
them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">POST
SCRIPT<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Len’s ship, the <i>Marianna
Livermore</i>, was the last merchant ship hit by a Kamikaze in World War Two.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #14171a; font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On Friday, March 13,
2020, President Trump signed into law: H.R. 5671, the "Merchant Mariners
of World War II Congressional Gold Medal Act of 2020," which provides for
the award of a Congressional gold medal collectively, to the U.S. Merchant
Mariners of World War II.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-33587309794975337462018-09-26T14:01:00.000-07:002018-09-26T14:01:28.457-07:00The Doomed Steamship Lexington by Roger Weston<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Doomed Steamship Lexington</span></b></div>
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By Roger Weston</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_tscrLjP85Ajcxd6qcbbxO2BA97A_Iob85FwdMhLnuI2QulvA_s_OYRZ5zHqCKV32G09JiVLiBqvECmZIv-9MhnVGaU5TYqGOJkRfLFl5ColkIxj5hJpNy7OKSQQZmNPU7jJOzeEfz4/s1600/Lexington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_tscrLjP85Ajcxd6qcbbxO2BA97A_Iob85FwdMhLnuI2QulvA_s_OYRZ5zHqCKV32G09JiVLiBqvECmZIv-9MhnVGaU5TYqGOJkRfLFl5ColkIxj5hJpNy7OKSQQZmNPU7jJOzeEfz4/s320/Lexington.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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On the evening of January 13, 1840, the paddle wheels of the steamship Lexington thrashed the icy waters of Long Island sound. Originally commissioned by Cornelius Vanderbilt, the ship was carrying approximately 147 passengers and a cargo of baled cotton, which was stacked on deck. Running a route between New York and Stonington, Connecticut, she was one of the most luxurious steamers of her time. </div>
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Midway through the ship's voyage, the casing around the ship's <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chimney">smokestack</a> caught fire, igniting nearly 150 bales of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cotton">cotton</a> that were stored nearby. Crewmen reacted by rushing below decks to try and stop her engine. This failed mission gave the flames time to spread. Next, the crew made every effort to extinguish the flames. The neck muscles of crewmen bulged like ropes as they heaved buckets of water upon the flames. Unfortunately, the freezing wind fanned the blaze, and the crew fought a losing battle. </div>
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With the paddle-wheeler still underway, panic and anxiety increased among the unfortunates onboard who were seeing their joyful cruise turn into a nightmare. Passengers piled into lifeboats, promptly overloading them. The crew then lowered the boats too fast, and worse yet, the lowering ropes were improperly cut so that the boats hit the moving water at a tilt, turning them into the equivalent of big spoons dipped into a punch bowl. The lifeboats promptly filled with frothing ice water, and clutches of frigid death took hold. Immersed in the freezing drink, the poor souls fought off hypothermia as long as they could, but they lost the fight and sank into the cold depths of the January sea.</div>
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The remaining desperate passengers realized that death was closing in on them too. They began heaving furniture and cotton bales into the water. These would have to do as makeshift rafts no matter how perilous the option. </div>
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At 8:00 p.m., Passenger and experienced sea captain, a man called Captain Hillard, threw ten bales of cotton overboard and then jumped onto one of them. One of the ship’s firemen, a Mr. Cox, also gained hold on the same bale. Together these two men floated in the open waters on their substitute life raft. With a wind chill factor running below zero, they floated in the choppy sea as they valiantly tried to fight off the effects of hypothermia. The bale rose and fell in the pulsating waters of the dark night. Stinging cold waves continually splashed them, keeping their body temperatures at dangerously low levels. Around 4:00 a.m., Cox, overcome by hypothermia, slipped into the water and drowned. Hillard, also weakened, nonetheless, held on tight. At 11:00 a.m., a sloop named Merchant swung up alongside and rescued Hillard. The man they dragged out of the sea was insensible. He was clinging to life by a thread, but clinging fiercely. </div>
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At midnight, Stephen Manchester, the ship’s pilot, and several other passengers were driven off the Lexington by the terrifying approach of intense heat and flames. Manchester and the others put to sea on a makeshift raft but the overloaded craft sunk beneath them. Driven by knifing cold and the desperation that ran through his blood, Manchester, clawed at a bale of cotton and dragged himself out of the water like a wet dog. He and a passenger named Peter McKenna held on for dear life, but after a grueling three hours, McKenna gave up the ghost. Despite having death for company, death beckoning him to give up the fight, death taunting him with her torments,</div>
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Manchester held on. He clung to life for hours beyond what mortal man could hope for. He was rescued by the sloop Merchant at noon.</div>
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Charles Smith, the ship’s fireman, had every intention of outwitting the fire and saving his life. He and four other people clung to the Manchester’s rudder where they had safe distance from the raging fires above them. Finally, as the ship began to sink into her watery grave, Smith and his fellow passengers climbed onto a piece of the paddle-wheel, which was rising and falling in the choppy ice water. Death climbed onto the paddle-wheel with them, and during the night she claimed souls one-at-a-time. Only Smith held out against her temptations. She offered an end to his suffering, but Smith had a purpose. Something drove him to endure the misery and share the night with hypothermia’s oppressive company. The next day at 2:00 p.m., the sloop Merchant eased up by the paddle-wheel and fished the half-dead fireman off his floating debris. </div>
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Another man who spit in Death’s face was second mate David Crowley. On a bale of cotton, he drifted for 43 hours, pulling off the impossible, enduring beyond the accepted limits of human endurance, proving beyond all doubt that with grit and determination, man can accomplish far more than he realizes. Crowley also made a couple of key moves. He burrowed into his bale of hay and stuffed his clothes with cotton. After an amazing adventure, Crowley drifted ashore, 50 miles east, at Baiting Hollow, Long Island. Despite all weakness, despite the fragility of life, he’d hung on until Providence smiled on him. The torments of dehydration had failed to finish him off. Hypothermia had not finished her work. David Crowley crawled up the beach. Then he managed to stand on shaking joints. Breathing in gasps, he staggered down the beach for over a mile, collapsing several times along the way. At the home of Matthias and Mary Hutchinson, he knocked on the door and then fell against it, sinking to the porch floor, where he balled up and shook feverishly. The door was opened. The doctor was called.</div>
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In an ironic twist, it was reported that the celebrated poet Professor Henry Longfellow likely perished on the Lexington. Longfellow’s works included "Paul Revere's Ride." While his name was listed on the manifest, he in fact had backed out of the trip at the last minute to discuss a poem with his publisher, a poem about a shipwreck. </div>
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According to one report, the Lexington had been condemned several months before the fateful cruise, but the owners ignored this bad news and kept her in service. In fact, she’d had a fire on her last run, but that one had been put out. Interestingly, the captain of that cruise had called in sick for this trip, a move that most likely saved his life. That captain was the brother of Cornelius Vanderbilt, the man who had originally commissioned the Lexington. </div>
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The Lexington had small fortune in silver below her decks, some of which was later recovered. While those salvagers had reason to smile, the families of the over 140 lost souls carried the memories of their loss for a lifetime. </div>
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<b>Authors note:</b> If you enjoyed this story, you might also enjoy</div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">Only 99 cents on Amazon.com</span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-66490459349111205862018-06-28T20:55:00.001-07:002018-06-28T20:55:42.786-07:00New Release: THE DOORMAN: A Chuck Brandt Thriller<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://amzn.to/2MuOBVE" target="_blank">THE DOORMAN: A Chuck Brandt Thriller </a></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://amzn.to/2MuOBVE" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-size: large;">(The Brandt Series Book 10)</span></b></a><i></i><u></u></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana;">The CIA created him. Now they can’t control him.</span></b><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Chuck Brandt is hunting for an old nemesis in Washington DC—a ruthless killer who’d slipped his grasp. But Chuck lands in the middle of a shameful conspiracy. Betrayal, deception, blackmail—the capital is a garden of lies and murder, but with Brandt in town, the traitors are no longer above the law. Aided by an unlikely—and unusual insider—Chuck Brandt brings his unique form of smash-mouth justice to the nation’s capital. Those who are betraying the public trust are about to find out that there is a new law in town—Brandt’s law.
</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">After uncovering an international conspiracy centered in Washington DC, Chuck Brandt receives orders from above: “This is Washington D.C. Be diplomatic. Do not push too hard or act in uncivil ways.”
</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: verdana,arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">That’s not exactly how Chuck operates. He’s focused on results. As he shakes the tiger’s cage, he uncovers a DC plot that makes the blood of any American boil. From one end of DC to another, Chuck Brandt is using savage tactics to de-mask DC frauds and international criminals and make them run for darkness. Assisting him is the most unusual insider Washington has seen in years. </span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://amzn.to/2KyYCQQ" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">THE DOORMAN: A Chuck Brandt Thriller</span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://amzn.to/2KyYCQQ" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"> (The Brandt Series Book 10)</span></a></div>
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International customers get your copy here:</div>
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<a href="http://bookshow.me/B07CT8RNRH" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">THE DOORMAN</span></a></div>
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252 pages</div>
Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-46088361383122733332018-04-19T09:47:00.002-07:002018-04-19T09:57:07.366-07:00New Release: AMERICAN OP: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 5)<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><strong><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">BRANDT IS BACK!</span></strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> American Op</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: medium;">A Chuck Brandt Thriller (Brandt Series Book 5)</span></strong></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Chuck Brandt is living a quiet, peaceful life of service in a soup kitchen in Seattle when he gets a phone call from Maria Lazar. She tells a harrowing tale. A Black Cobra assassin almost killed her and Chuck’s old pal Jeff. Before he died the assassin reveals a plot against the USA</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">. From Washington D.C. to Antarctica, Chuck Brandt is on the case. What he discovers is far worse than he expected, and his chance of either success or survival are slim. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><a href="https://amzn.to/2HggGh4" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size: large;"><b>American Op: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 5)</b></span></em></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";">International customers click here: <a href="http://bookshow.me/B07B499SHT" target="_blank">American Op: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 5)</a></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Looking for a non-stop action-packed thrill ride?</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Read The Brandt Series</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">What others are saying about The Brandt Series:</span></b></div>
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5.0 out of 5 <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R4L1PGQZMTHR7/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1467999229">stars</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R4L1PGQZMTHR7/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1467999229">if you dont mind losing sleep because of a good book</a></div>
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By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3GO1KAVLSGVOM/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">Amazon Customer</a>on March 21, 2017</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Recruiter-Chuck-Brandt-Thriller-Book-ebook/product-reviews/B007DQ4B6I/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_fmt?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&formatType=current_format">Format: Kindle Edition</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Recruiter-Brandt-Book-1/product-reviews/1467999229/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_rvwer?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=avp_only_reviews&sortBy=recent">Verified Purchase</a></div>
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It was a fast paced book adrenalin pumping. It is like a cross between Mitch (Vince Flynn) and Dewey (Ben Coes). Mr Weston kept it exciting and intriguing with a good story line.</div>
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5.0 out of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2TZQ6IRH1EV7N/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00M0BWMJE">5 stars</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2TZQ6IRH1EV7N/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00M0BWMJE">Superb story. Action adventure writer that keep readers longing ...</a></div>
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By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A23G36Q44DBZI9/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">jd</a> on March 26, 2015</div>
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Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase</div>
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Superb story. Action adventure writer that keep readers longing for the next book.</div>
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Thank you Mr Weston !</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R25PJPYUMN8D13/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A027LOK">5.0 out of 5 stars</a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R25PJPYUMN8D13/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A027LOK">Another fast paced fantastic adventure by Roger Weston !!!</a></div>
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By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3MS9STGP5S4IO/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">John H. Kuhl, CPCM</a> on July 30, 2016</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rogue-Op-Chuck-Brandt-Thriller-ebook/product-reviews/B01A027LOK/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_fmt?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&formatType=current_format">Format: Kindle Edition</a></div>
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Every novel I have read by this author seems to be more exciting and enjoyable. If you are a reader that really enjoys an action thriller, you have to get the Rogue Op.</div>
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5.<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R1XUF0D78M04OC/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B06XQCTZ71">0 out of 5 stars</a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R1XUF0D78M04OC/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B06XQCTZ71">He is a great writer and the Rogue Op books are thrilling</a></div>
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By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A29SPUX81YV4JA/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">Sandra Y. Smith</a>on April 24, 2017</div>
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Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase</div>
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Anytime you come across a Roger Weston book, buy it. He is a great writer and the Rogue Op books are thrilling. Really hard to put down. So looking forward to the next one.</div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-39125764985364653892018-01-06T15:01:00.000-08:002018-01-06T15:01:46.030-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="font-size: xx-large;">BRANDT IS BACK!</b></div>
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<br /><span style="font-size: large;">Chuck Brandt is #1 on the FBI’s most wanted list, but he has even bigger problems. His photo has gone viral. A shadowy lawyer has put a million-dollar bounty on his head—but that’s just for starters. Chuck’s legal problems are like none he could have ever imagined. And when he sees a mysterious girl approaching his crab fishing boat, she does the last thing he ever expected. <br /> </span><div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>SHADOW LAWYER</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>A CHUCK BRANDT THRILLER</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>(The Brandt Series Book 8) </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">is now available</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">99c for a limited time</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Download here:</span></b></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/2D2y5sy"><span style="font-size: x-large;">http://amzn.to/2D2y5sy</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For readers outside of the US, click here to purchase your copy of Shadow Lawyer: </span></div>
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<a href="http://bookshow.me/B078QZPXG7">http://bookShow.me/B078QZPXG7</a></div>
<br /> Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-23263474648122650152017-09-17T20:21:00.000-07:002017-11-16T13:13:25.211-08:00New Release: Vulcan Eye: A Chuck Brandt Novella<br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><em><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://amzn.to/2yiBgJQ" target="_blank">Vulcan Eye: A Chuck Brandt Novella</a></b></span></em></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Navy SEAL Sebastian Lewis made a terrible mistake with tragic consequences. Now, hundreds of people are going to die. Desperate for redemption, abandoned and court marshaled by his brothers in the Navy, Sebastian turns to a legendary black ops warrior for help. <br /><br />Chuck Brandt is an independent operator—a lone coyote with carte blanche powers to circumvent the normal chain of command. He’s a law unto himself, unrestrained by politics—unofficial, deniable, and expendable.<br /><br />Now Brandt has thirty-six hours to stop a lunatic villain and his ruthless army of killers from using a terrible new weapon. Will Chuck succeed? Find out in <a href="http://amzn.to/2zMYefn" target="_blank">Vulcan Eye</a>.<br /></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><em><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><a href="http://amzn.to/2yiBgJQ" target="_blank">Vulcan Eye: A Chuck Brandt Novella</a></b></span></em></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial"; font-size: large;">International customers click here: </span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial"; font-size: large;"><a href="http://bookshow.me/B075JQQ726" rel="" target="_blank">Vulcan Eye: A Chuck Brandt Novella</a></span><br />
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<b>110 pages </b></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-54570738115277577862017-09-04T22:47:00.000-07:002017-09-04T22:47:53.089-07:00THE GOLDEN CATCH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Golden Catch was selected as the <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/53121-action-adventure-aficionados" target="_blank">Action/Adventure Aficionados</a> September/October 2017 group read.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Join in on the conversation at:</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/18859197-september-october-2017-the-golden-catch-by-roger-weston-discussion-s" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Golden Catch discussion</span></a><br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/18859204-september-october-2017-the-golden-catch-ask-the-author-q-a-spoile" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Golden Catch Q & A</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll look forward to seeing you on Goodreads. Thanks to everyone who voted!</span><br />
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-87770927746479973092017-08-26T14:38:00.002-07:002017-08-26T14:38:49.538-07:00Vote for The Golden Catch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Golden Catch was selected as a nomination for the Action/Adventure Aficionados September/October 2017 group read.</span></b></div>
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I wrote The Golden Catch after I worked on a ship in Alaska and lived in South Korea. I learned so many fascinating little known facts through those experiences that I was inspired to write The Golden Catch. It was the book that started my writing journey and I would enjoy discussing it. Join Action/Adventure Aficionados and vote to make The Golden Catch #1.<br />
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Here's the link to the poll:
<a href="http://https//www.goodreads.com/poll/show/160469-what-book-would-you-like-to-read-for-the-september-october-2017-featured">https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/160469-what-book-would-you-like-to-read-for-the-september-october-2017-featured</a> <br />
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If you would like a free review copy of The Golden Catch leave a comment below or email me at RogerWeston7@gmail.com<br />
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If The Golden Catch is selected I'll look forward to chatting with you on Goodreads soon!<br />
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What book would you like to read for the September/October 2017 Featured Member-Author Group Read?
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<img alt="Covert Dreams by Mike Meyer" class="gr-hostedUserImg" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1322881582s/12909746.jpg" /></a>
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<img alt="THE DEFENDER (Kendrick & Harte, #2) by Rex Grainger" class="gr-hostedUserImg" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1491183362s/34758910.jpg" /></a>
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<img alt="Doha 12 by Lance Charnes" class="gr-hostedUserImg" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1355417192s/16595092.jpg" /></a>
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<img alt="War Party by J. Drew Brumbaugh" class="gr-hostedUserImg" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1372088033s/17469360.jpg" /></a>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-65014291845873703242017-06-17T11:59:00.000-07:002017-10-14T09:59:15.398-07:00New release: Global Tilt: A Chuck Brandt Novella<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></strong></span><strong><span style="font-size: large;"> GLOBAL TILT: A CHUCK BRANDT NOVELLA</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1wddZHzyf0Gw0ldbwVNQlRlWMJ8epLtffJ929n47y8e0L-d8JnufVJPHIwi103Dn2HZCPf9RYUdClplvwvVTclFOCHEDLM4znihVhi_w2gLPkL1JnypucDO6VdoOsAi2nWNBgBI8qZ8Y/s1600/Global+Tilt+Cover+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1357" data-original-width="926" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1wddZHzyf0Gw0ldbwVNQlRlWMJ8epLtffJ929n47y8e0L-d8JnufVJPHIwi103Dn2HZCPf9RYUdClplvwvVTclFOCHEDLM4znihVhi_w2gLPkL1JnypucDO6VdoOsAi2nWNBgBI8qZ8Y/s320/Global+Tilt+Cover+1.png" width="218" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">A ship en-route from North Korea to Iran—and its horrifying cargo—have gone missing…</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The CIA is desperate and time is running out…</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The unthinkable is about to become an earth-shattering reality...</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">They turn to their last hope—unstoppable operative Chuck Brandt</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Download here:</span></strong><em style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></em></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><a href="http://amzn.to/2rrgwM8" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Global Tilt: A Chuck Brandt Novella</b></span></em></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";">International customers click here: </span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><a href="http://bookshow.me/B071XDS48Y" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Global Tilt: A Chuck Brandt Novella</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: small;">45 pg novella</span></b><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">What others are saying about The Brandt Series:</span></b></div>
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5.0 out of 5 <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R4L1PGQZMTHR7/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1467999229">stars</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R4L1PGQZMTHR7/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1467999229">if you dont mind losing sleep because of a good book</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3GO1KAVLSGVOM/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">Amazon Customer</a>on March 21, 2017<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Recruiter-Chuck-Brandt-Thriller-Book-ebook/product-reviews/B007DQ4B6I/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_fmt?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&formatType=current_format">Format: Kindle Edition</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Recruiter-Brandt-Book-1/product-reviews/1467999229/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_rvwer?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=avp_only_reviews&sortBy=recent">Verified Purchase</a><br />
It was a fast paced book adrenalin pumping. It is like a cross between Mitch (Vince Flynn) and Dewey (Ben Coes). Mr Weston kept it exciting and intriguing with a good story line.<br />
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5.0 out of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2TZQ6IRH1EV7N/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00M0BWMJE">5 stars</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2TZQ6IRH1EV7N/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00M0BWMJE">Superb story. Action adventure writer that keep readers longing ...</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A23G36Q44DBZI9/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">jd</a> on March 26, 2015<br />
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase<br />
Superb story. Action adventure writer that keep readers longing for the next book.<br />
Thank you Mr Weston !<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R25PJPYUMN8D13/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A027LOK">5.0 out of 5 stars</a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R25PJPYUMN8D13/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A027LOK">Another fast paced fantastic adventure by Roger Weston !!!</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3MS9STGP5S4IO/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">John H. Kuhl, CPCM</a> on July 30, 2016<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rogue-Op-Chuck-Brandt-Thriller-ebook/product-reviews/B01A027LOK/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_fmt?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&formatType=current_format">Format: Kindle Edition</a><br />
Every novel I have read by this author seems to be more exciting and enjoyable. If you are a reader that really enjoys an action thriller, you have to get the Rogue Op.<br />
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5.<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R1XUF0D78M04OC/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B06XQCTZ71">0 out of 5 stars</a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R1XUF0D78M04OC/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B06XQCTZ71">He is a great writer and the Rogue Op books are thrilling</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A29SPUX81YV4JA/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">Sandra Y. Smith</a>on April 24, 2017<br />
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase<br />
Anytime you come across a Roger Weston book, buy it. He is a great writer and the Rogue Op books are thrilling. Really hard to put down. So looking forward to the next one.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Brandt Series Book 5 coming soon</span></b></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-1147456058042915072017-04-29T12:33:00.001-07:002018-04-19T09:47:57.206-07:00New Release: ROGUE OP II: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 4)<br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;"> They thought he was dead. They were wrong... </span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><strong><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">BRANDT IS BACK!</span></strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rogue Op II: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (Brandt Series Book 4)</span></strong></div>
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General Ivan Lazar and his Black Cobra Brigade thought they could get away with
their crimes against humanity. They thought they could unleash death and chaos
and not pay a price. They thought they could plot against America and fly under
the radar, but they forgot about the Brandt factor—the sheep dog, the
protector. Brandt is back like never before in a no-holds-barred action
thriller. He is a rogue operative—an ex-assassin determined to protect the
innocent and his country. </div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: medium;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Download here:</span></strong><em style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></em></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><a href="http://amzn.to/2qqmiwH" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Rogue Op II: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 4)</b></span></em></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";">International customers click here: <a href="http://bookshow.me/B06XQCTZ71" target="_blank">Rogue Op II: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (The Brandt Series Book 4)</a></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Looking for a non-stop action-packed thrill ride?</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Read The Brandt Series</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">What others are saying about The Brandt Series:</span></b></div>
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5.0 out of 5 <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R4L1PGQZMTHR7/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1467999229">stars</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R4L1PGQZMTHR7/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=1467999229">if you dont mind losing sleep because of a good book</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3GO1KAVLSGVOM/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">Amazon Customer</a>on March 21, 2017<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Recruiter-Chuck-Brandt-Thriller-Book-ebook/product-reviews/B007DQ4B6I/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_fmt?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&formatType=current_format">Format: Kindle Edition</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Recruiter-Brandt-Book-1/product-reviews/1467999229/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_rvwer?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=avp_only_reviews&sortBy=recent">Verified Purchase</a><br />
It was a fast paced book adrenalin pumping. It is like a cross between Mitch (Vince Flynn) and Dewey (Ben Coes). Mr Weston kept it exciting and intriguing with a good story line.<br />
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5.0 out of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2TZQ6IRH1EV7N/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00M0BWMJE">5 stars</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R2TZQ6IRH1EV7N/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B00M0BWMJE">Superb story. Action adventure writer that keep readers longing ...</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A23G36Q44DBZI9/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">jd</a> on March 26, 2015<br />
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase<br />
Superb story. Action adventure writer that keep readers longing for the next book.<br />
Thank you Mr Weston !<br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R25PJPYUMN8D13/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A027LOK">5.0 out of 5 stars</a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R25PJPYUMN8D13/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A027LOK">Another fast paced fantastic adventure by Roger Weston !!!</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3MS9STGP5S4IO/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">John H. Kuhl, CPCM</a> on July 30, 2016<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Rogue-Op-Chuck-Brandt-Thriller-ebook/product-reviews/B01A027LOK/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_rvw_fmt?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&formatType=current_format">Format: Kindle Edition</a><br />
Every novel I have read by this author seems to be more exciting and enjoyable. If you are a reader that really enjoys an action thriller, you have to get the Rogue Op.<br />
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5.<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R1XUF0D78M04OC/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B06XQCTZ71">0 out of 5 stars</a><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/R1XUF0D78M04OC/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_rvw_ttl?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B06XQCTZ71">He is a great writer and the Rogue Op books are thrilling</a><br />
By <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A29SPUX81YV4JA/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_pdp?ie=UTF8">Sandra Y. Smith</a>on April 24, 2017<br />
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase<br />
Anytime you come across a Roger Weston book, buy it. He is a great writer and the Rogue Op books are thrilling. Really hard to put down. So looking forward to the next one.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The explosive conclusion to The Brandt Series coming </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">summer 2017</span></b></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-23153484182251705122017-03-01T11:05:00.001-08:002018-10-10T09:59:26.902-07:00The Maravillas Shipwreck<h1 align="center" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc470558886"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Maravillas</span><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Shipwreck</span></span></a></h1>
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by Roger Weston</span></div>
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Padre Diego Portichuelo de Rivadeneira stood fast against the pounding wind. He clung to the rail as the <i>Nuestra Senora de las Maravillas </i>rose on the sea’s liquid hills and sunk into her deepening valleys. He struggled to stand against the wind, and so he leaned into it. He leaned forward over the rail as gusts pounded him and thrashed the ship. He had survived a shipwreck just last year, yet fear touched him as he beheld the sinking low clouds, which were thick and unleashing torrents of driving rain. <br />
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Big sheets of water were torn off the surface of the waves and dispersed as spray. White streaks and foam patches covered the surface of the raging, uncaring and unrelenting sea. The power of the advancing sea was a frightening spectacle to behold. Padre Diego could not help but feel just how insignificant he was in the universe. He sensed the vulnerability of the ship beneath his feet that was being tossed around like a mere cork. He knew to his bones that one rogue wave could doom the <i>Maravillas</i> and her mortal crew. His knees shook. Guilt and shame clung to him. As the storm raged, he felt no less fear than the apostles had on the Sea of Galilee before Jesus stilled the storm and rebuked them for their lack of faith. Oh, he was ashamed, indeed. <br />
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In the distance he saw other ships of the fleet tempting fate thanks to the staggering boldness and courage of their crews and captains, men who lived every day as if it was the only day they would ever have. They lived boldly and gloriously, in contempt of fear, choosing even death as preferable to a life of defeat and cowardice. Better than anyone, Padre Diego knew they were deeply flawed, but they were pushed and pulled by the conflicting currents and riptides of the cross-seas of life. Now their ships were facing the same liquid insanity. They rose on the rough, confused seas that had replaced the long, deep swells of earlier. They followed perilous courses through the black of night, long streaks of glittering green phosphoresce trailing in their wakes. <br />
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A voice from the crow’s nest cut through the thick, electric air. The voice dropped down from high overhead, announcing the coast of Florida off the port beam and touching off the emotions of Padre Diego. Land was always a comforting sight for those in troubled waters; it could also be a frightening sight for sailors who understand the dangers of shallow waters. Padre Diego had been around long enough to understand this. <br />
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As if responding to his fears, a stiff wind rose up and the temperature sank by ten degrees. High overhead, the sails flapped and luffed. Sailors sprang into action. They climbed ladders with as much confidence and skill as geckos that cling to walls. They furled and trimmed the sails. Down on deck, sailors secured all loose gear and battened down hatches. <br />
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Padre Diego went below and tried to sleep, but it was impossible due to the rough, awkward seas. Even in his bed he was jarred and shaken. He could not only hear the strains on the timbers, he could feel them. Something ominous that darkened his spirit and drove him to recite scripture to fortify his courage and give comfort and reassurance to his spirit filled his being. <br />
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Hours ticked by as the Holy Scriptures passed through his lips. Then he found himself back out on deck in the midst of pure chaos by night. The Bahamas Channel struck him as an evil, malevolent place. Showered with ocean spray, Padre Diego clung to the rail and watched the rising and falling of the lights of other ships in the fleet. He watched legions of whitecaps. He noticed how low the heavily-laden treasure galleon was riding in the water. He felt a pang of fear. The ocean was a furious beast, and Padre Diego knew how fragile and tiny the life of a man truly was. All around him sailors worked feverishly knowing that their lives depended upon their performance, yet they were tiny little souls, toiling in the midst of massive powers. They knew that in the blink of an eye, their lights could be extinguished on any given day, but especially on a day like this. <br />
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His deepest fears blackened his heart when the ship was jarred. A huge wave rose up and pounded her like a fist in the face. Foamy whitewater spilled over her decks. The boatswain’s shouts spoke of shallow depths, and Padre Diego heard the gasps of sailors. A warning cannon was fired to alert the other ships of mortal danger. <br />
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Padre Diego watched in horror as the galleon of Juan de Hoyos, another ship in the fleet, hurtled into a rock. The rudder was snapped off like the breaking of a matchstick. Minutes passed like the slowness of torture and oppression. Reality was so real, yet also unreal. It seemed unbelievable when Padre Diego watched the <i>Capitana</i> now out of control, heading straight for Padre Diego’s ship, the <i>Maravillas</i>. <br />
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Men screamed like doomed souls and ran for the opposite rail. What happened next confounded Padre Diego. The <i>Maravillas</i> attempted a desperate turn, but hit bottom. Then the <i>Capitana</i>, carried by the might of the sea, plowed into the <i>Maravillas</i>. Padre Diego felt the ship buck. He was thrown and rolled on the deck. He felt the ship tilt and tremble as she was broken in half. Then he saw the other half being torn away by the waves. <br />
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The remaining half of the <i>Maravillas</i> was helpless before the insane currents. She was carried right into the shoals where whitewater churned in the rocky teeth. Timbers snapped and razor-sharp rocks stove gouges in her hull. Water poured in through the damaged timbers. <br />
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Realizing now that their lives truly hung in the balance, sailors formed lines and bailed, but Padre Diego, who was also passing buckets, could see that their task was doomed to failure. <br />
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He fought his way through the chaos on deck, only to come face to face with Admiral Don Matias de Orellana, who told him, “The ship will be lost. Please, Father, confess all those who want to be absolved.” <br />
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The Father nodded and knew that he must do this. All around him, the cries of hopeless and distressed sailors filled the air. The spirit of Death was in the air. Padre Diego could feel her presence. And Doom rode on her back. <br />
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Padre Diego climbed to the highest deck and faced the terrified crowd below. He could see the terror and regret in the eyes of hundreds of souls who now realized that their final hour had arrived, and they had not lived as they should have. Desperation clung to their faces. Men who had cared nothing for God yesterday were now begging for his mercy. Everyone was begging for his mercy—sinners and saints alike. Men of status and countless honors realized suddenly that their titles counted for nothing. They knew instinctively that what mattered was how they had treated God and man, and this devastated them to the bones. <br />
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Padre Diego shouted above the storm. Words spilled off his tongue and down over the wailing crowd of distressed souls. “Calm yourselves,” he said. “There is nothing to fear.” <br />
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The sailors did not calm down. Padre Diego opened his Bible and read Holy Scriptures to the men who listened and cried in despair. Padre Diego then began to hear confessions, but time was short and those who needed confession were many. He resorted to bestowing a general absolution upon the crowd. <br />
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Even as this was going on, the boat was breaking up under their feet. Men leapt into the water and swam for any scraps of wreckage that they could hold on to. Padre Diego dared not leap into the raging ocean, for he could not swim. The cold fingers of dread were choking his faith. <br />
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Admiral Orellana emerged out of the chaos of the grim night and put his hand on the Father’s shoulder. “Do not fear Death, Father. I am not afraid. Death will find us sooner or later.” <br />
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It was just what Padre Diego needed to hear. He watched in admiration as Admiral Orellana turned to help other sailors in their efforts to launch a boat. <br />
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“Come with us, Father.” <br />
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“No, I will stay here. Let another man take my place in the boat.” <br />
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This was done, but the same boat was promptly smashed to kindling as a wave flung it against the side of the galleon. All hands were lost. <br />
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Padre Diego whispered a silent prayer even as he heard the ship’s timbers bend and break. All around, men wailed in despair. <br />
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Even though he could not swim, Padre Diego now acted on his faith. He leapt into the water, hoping to reach some wreckage. The cold gave him a shock, but he stayed above water long enough to grab hold of a floating hatch. He dragged himself aboard his makeshift raft. At that same moment, he saw the ship roll. The stern castle crashed into the water, dumping sailors into the sea. <br />
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A man swam out of the darkness and climbed onto Padre Diego’s hatch-cover raft. Realizing that he was in the presence of Padre Diego, the man began confessing his sins. <br />
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This man was Don Domingo de Vega, a knight of the Order of Christ. Water poured off the fantastic blue-and-golden Cross of Malta, which he wore around his neck. <br />
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After giving his confession, Don Domingo said, “Hang on to the raft, Father. Whatever you do, hang on. We will survive if we endure.” <br />
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Another swimmer reached a floating boom close by and wrapped an arm around it, yet his eyes showed he was resigned to death. With all the strength he could muster, he heaved a package to Padre Diego. “Take it, Father. I’m giving it up—and my sins with it.” <br />
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“What is it?” <br />
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“An artifact. A lead book with a written confession.” <br />
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“Whose confession?” <br />
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“I will tell you father, but I must also confess. Please hear my confession, Father, for I am the greatest sinner in the world. I will tell you everything.” <br />
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“I will hear it.” Padre Diego shoved the bundle into his pocket. <br />
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Padre Diego had heard thousands of confessions during his career, but never had a confession shocked him and frightened him more than this one. From the darkest bowels of his soul, the man told a harrowing and astounding tale of evil. <br />
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For such terrible sins as he’d scarcely dared imagine, Padre Diego gave forgiveness. The sinner’s eyes were burdened with utter devastation and torment, yet once his sins were confessed, a million pounds of crushing weight seemed to lift from him. Relief glinted in his eyes for just a moment before he sank beneath the waves. <br />
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Padre Diego and Don Domingo held on through the night. In the morning, Padre Diego spotted a boat. Gaspar de los Reyes was in command. His oarsmen heaved on their sticks. They rescued several survivors from the sunken Maravillas. Then they dragged Don Domingo de Vega and Padre Diego to safety. <br />
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Thankfulness filled Padre Diego’s heart and soul, but words, the confession of the world’s greatest sinner, filled his mind. He knew that he would never see the world in the same way ever again. <br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Author's note: </b>Some believe that the <i>Maravillas</i> went down with the Golden Madonna and are still looking for her today. She is a life size statue of the Madonna and Child each wearing a double crown overlaid with precious gemstones. </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">After learning about this fascinating shipwreck, I was inspired to write:</span> </b></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/2mu7Llz" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Confession: A Jake Sands Action-Adventure </span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Sands Series Book 2)</span></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/2mu7Llz" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">The Confession: A Jake Sands Action-Adventure </span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Sands Series Book 2)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you enjoyed this story let me know at RogerWeston7@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you!</span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-71717002151874253772016-10-21T11:59:00.004-07:002016-10-22T21:46:00.746-07:00The Sultana Shipwreck<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
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<i style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Last Tragedy of the Civil War</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">by Roger Weston</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">One of the most amazing
shipwrecks in American history is largely unknown. The ship was called the </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Sultana</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">, and she ran a route on the
Mississippi River, transporting cargo and passengers. On April 27, 1865, she
swung up to the docks at Vicksburg, where her lines were made fast. It was then
that the engineer noticed something worrisome: the boilers were leaking. After
evaluating their options, the engineers and captain decided that the boilers
would be repaired straightaway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Vicksberg, at that
time, was swarming with semi-invalid civil war veterans. These Union soldiers
were newly-released POWs. They’d come from various prisons where they had been
sadly neglected. They were diseased, half–starved skeletons with many wounds
that needed proper medical attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Because the Civil War
had just ended eighteen days ago, the government was paying boat captains for
every veteran that they shipped up river. Soldiers began boarding the <i>Sultana</i> even as it was being repaired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Despite their sad
physical condition, they were in high spirits like Captain J.C. Mason had
never seen before. They were singing, smiling, shouting, and dancing with joy.
They had just gotten their lives back and were headed home. Many of them had
expected to die in the camps. Now they’d literally been given a second life.
They were ecstatic. There weren’t just a few soldiers on the <i>Sultana</i> either. There were lots of them.
They poured onto the paddle wheeler like a flood. In no time at all, the <i>Sultana</i> was full, packed well beyond
capacity. In no way was she built for this many passengers. It was a dangerous
situation. The <i>Sultana</i> was legally
entitled to carry 376 passengers. It was presently carrying 2,300. The captain
was nervous, but he felt he must follow through with his mission of returning the veterans to their homes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The engineers were
lively, and wasted no time. The boilers were quickly repaired, and the <i>Sultana</i> headed upriver, her big paddle
wheels thrashing the water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Despite being grossly
overloaded and running against the current, the <i>Sultana</i> performed well for the next couple of days. At Memphis, the
boiler showed more signs of leaking. Once again, repairs were done. The boat
moved on, heading into the current with over five times more passengers than
she was allowed to carry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As it turned out, the
current was stronger than usual. At 2 a.m., they were only a few miles upstream
from Memphis. The weighed-down boat was really working hard to make progress.
It was earning every inch against the flood-stage currents. Then the boilers
failed and a tremendous explosion lit up the ship. It was so powerful that the
boom was heard all the way back in Memphis. The detonation blew hundreds of
sleeping soldiers into the river. These half-invalid men landed in freezing
water, splashing down below the surface along with half of the boat’s
superstructure. A large portion of the boat had been obliterated. It was a
miracle that men survived both the explosion and the shock of landing in the
river during their sleep. Because there was wreckage in the water, many soldiers
were able to grab onto some flotsam and hold on for their life. This was a rude
awakening, but also a lucky one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Sadly, many of the men
could not swim and were also malnourished and weak. At the same time, pieces of
wreckage were quickly claimed. When too many men tried to climb on, the
wreckage was driven under water. Then panicked drowning men grabbed onto other
men to use them as flotation devices. In many cases, both men sunk and never
came up. In other cases, survivors drove away those who would take them under.
It was an easy choice to make to drive them off and let them drown; it was
frequently a hard memory to live with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />The ice-cold water
proved too much for many of the worn-out men. Hundreds of them died from the
shock because they could not swim. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Back on the boat,
people were fighting over lumber. They were tearing away lumber wherever they
could find it. Everyone wanted a flotation device. Only the most determined
were successful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">One man found a
ten-foot alligator in a wooden cage. He bayoneted the beast and rolled the cage
into the river. He dove in and clung to that cage until a boat picked him up. A
man who been caged up himself for so long now owed his life to a cage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Three other men held
onto a bale of hay and floated all the way to Memphis. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">James K. Brady had
awoken to find that he was on fire, or at least his clothes were. Most of his
hair had burned off. He and his friend David Ettleman put out the flames on
Brady, but the boat was also burning. Next, they rushed around looking for a
flotation device. They had no luck, so they went to the hurricane deck, where
they saw an astounding scene. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As Brady said, “Oh,
what a sight met our gaze! There were some killed in the explosion, lying in
the bottom of the boat, being trampled upon, while some were crying and
praying. Many were cursing while others were singing. That sight I shall never
forget; I often see it in my sleep, and wake with a start.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brady and Ettleman
found a gangplank, which they grabbed onto just as it was going over the side. Brady
later explained that “About fifteen or sixteen of us that had stuck to the
plank. But now a new danger had seized me, as someone grabbed me by the right
foot and it seemed as though it was in a vise; try as I would, I could not
shake him off. I gripped the plank with all the strength that I had, and then I
got my left foot between his hand and my foot and while holding on to the plank
with both hands I pried him loose with my left foot, he taking my sock along
with him... He sank out of sight and I saw him no more.” Such incidents were
common, but that didn’t make it any easier. Anyway, Brady’s troubles weren’t
over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The gangplank flipped
over during the struggle, and several other men were lost. Brady’s spirits were
plummeting. He was losing hope. He was weak, having lost thirty percent of his
body weight in prison. In his darkest moments, it was his friend who helped
him: “Every little while he would call out some encouraging word to me to keep
up my spirits.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">On the burning ship, Chester
Berry was fighting his own battle for survival. He got himself a piece of cabin
door casing, but hesitated to jump in the water. The flames had not reached the
bow yet, but the real reason was what he saw in the water. As he explained, it was “literally black with human beings, many of
whom were sinking and taking others with them. Being a good swimmer, and having
board enough to save me, even if I were not, I concluded to wait till the rush
was over.” To jump into a crowd of drowning men would have been extremely
dangerous. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Remaining on board a
little longer gave him time to look around and see how humans responded to a
situation where they were facing death, men who had faced it before, but
finally thought they were getting another shot at life. Then suddenly they saw
that second chance slipping away. Berry said, “The horrors of that night will
never be effaced from my memory — such swearing, praying, shouting and crying I
had never heard; and much of it from the same throat — imprecations followed by
petitions to the Almighty, denunciations by bitter weeping.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Berry saw that
different men responded differently. He saw men who would fight tooth and nail
to survive. He saw one man whose flotation devices had been taken from him by
stronger men, and he would not fight anymore. He could have gotten more wood
from the pile, but he had had enough. He was done fighting. Berry was angry at
his defeatist attitude and let him be. For years, it would haunt him that he
didn’t do more to help that broken man. Berry was haunted by a man who would
not help himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Finally, the waters
cleared of people, and Berry dove in. He struggled with the current for a time
and on account of the ice-cold water, he became completely discouraged to the
point where he decided it wasn’t worth it to struggle any longer. He realized
that he would drown in spite of his efforts, so it would just be easier to give
up and die. He started to do just that when a miracle happened. As Berry puts
it, “I was transported for the moment to ‘the old house at home,’ and that I
was wending my way slowly up the path from the road gate to the house… as plainly as I ever heard my mother's voice, I heard it that evening.” Their family had always prayed together. His mother
said the prayer because his father was mute. Now Berry actually heard her pray
“God save my boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">After that, Berry’s
attitude changed. He knew that his mother was expecting him to return home from
war and how much it meant to her. He said, “I fiercely clutched the board and
hissed between my now firmly set teeth ‘Mother, by the help of God, your prayer
shall be answered.’''<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Berry ended up clinging
to a tree until a boat rescued him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">James K. Brady, whose friend’s
encouraging words gave him strength, was another survivor. Brady lasted till
daylight and they managed to get to shore. Another man crawled ashore with
them, but he was so badly burned that he died three minutes after reaching
land. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Eighteen hundred other men also
passed away. They had survived the Civil War, including time in POW camps. They
were on their way home to see their families. But destiny had other plans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">More people died on the
<i>Sultana</i> than on the <i>Titanic</i>. It is the worst shipwreck in
American history, but few know of it. To some degree it was overshadowed by
greater events and bigger news. Lincoln had been assassinated only a week
earlier. His assassin, John Wilkes Booth had just been apprehended the previous
day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The impact on the eighteen hundred
families was no doubt profound. But the 1,800 men are not forgotten. We honor them
for their sacrifice for their country and their fellow man. This was the last
tragedy of the Civil War, but it was more than that. It was the loss of 1,800
brothers. Their story reminds us of who they were and what they did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><b>Author's note:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><em>After learning about the worst maritime disaster of all time, resulting in an even greater loss of life than the RMS Titanic, I wrote </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank"><em>FATAL RETURN</em></a><em>. This little known tragedy took place on a cold and dark night during WWII. I was so fascinated about the circumstances surrounding this shipwreck that I wrote about it in my novel</em></span><em> </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank"><em>FATAL RETURN</em></a>. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><a href="http://amzn.to/2eqZQjn" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">FATAL RETURN</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">$2.99 on Amazon.com</span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-66405293822377506532016-02-23T17:40:00.001-08:002016-03-17T10:54:15.326-07:00Empress of Ireland: Shipwreck in the Night<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>Empress of Ireland</i>: Shipwreck in the Night</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 22pt; line-height: 115%;">by Roger Weston</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">2:00 a.m. </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">St.
Lawrence River. May 29, 1914. The river was shrouded in fog. Two ships were
steaming towards each other. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The
Canadian Pacific steamship <i>Empress of
Ireland</i>, was headed outbound from Quebec.<b> </b>The Norwegian collier <i>Storstad</i>
was heading upriver. <i>The Empress</i> was
close to shore, and so was the<i> Storstad</i>.
The officers on each ship spotted the other in the distance. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On the bridge of the <i>Empress of Ireland,</i> Captain Henry Kendall began to change course. Just then his ship was swallowed in the fog. Kendall
blasted his whistle three times, signaling that he was ordering his engines
full astern. The ship slowed and was nearly stopped. The next thing Kendall saw
was the masthead lights of the <i>Storstad</i> glowing out of the fog to starboard. The other ship was
booming straight at him. They were so close that there was no time to move. Collision was inevitable. All Kendall could do was change his
ship’s angle to limit the damage to a glancing blow. He ordered a sharp
turn to starboard. The </span><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Storstad</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">'s bow
smashed between the liner's steel ribs, ripping the steal and cutting an
opening, in which flowed the river.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The <i>Empress</i> began to list from the rising water, and tragic
consequences followed. People sleeping in starboard cabins were submerged in
freezing water and died in their sleep. On deck, the situation was also dire.
The new slant of her decks made the lifeboats useless. Only six of them could
be deployed. After only ten minutes, the ship fell over onto her side. Hundreds
of passengers climbed on her hull and hoped for rescue. Four minutes later, the
beautiful <i>Empress of Ireland</i> sank
into the freezing water and one thousand and twelve souls perished, including eight hundred and forty passengers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The four hundred and sixty-five who survived were pulled out of the river in hypothermic condition. Among the survivors was an</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;"> entrepreneur named Edward Seybold, but his wife Susanna Seybold was lost. It was their 43rd wedding anniversary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Grace
Hanagan</span><b style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">was also among the survivors.
She was an eight-year-old girl, who was traveling with her parents to
London to take part in the Salvation Army’s International Congress. Her parents
were lost. For a year afterwards, Grace believed that her mother might have
survived because her body was never found.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Egildo Braga and his wife Carolina managed to survive as well, but it
was tragic good luck. Egildo had done everything he could to save their son
in the freezing water, but the river was too powerful. It tore away his boy, even though Egildo had tied him to himself. Egildo desperately searched for their child in the
darkness, but could not find him. Their young son had perished in the river that dark and tragic night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">One thousand and twelve lives came to a sudden, unexpected end on that foggy night in the St. Lawrence River when the <i>Empress of Ireland</i> went down. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">The death toll exceeded that of the </span><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">Titanic</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>If you enjoy reading fast-paced action adventures with a maritime twist, check out <a href="http://amzn.to/1Ujl2Hq" target="_blank">Fatal Return</a>.</strong></span>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1Rn6ZQX" target="_blank"><img alt="http://amzn.to/1Rn6ZQX" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3928nCM7gj8Rs408UFYqphe4bdrrmyObev2YPuK6HnADnCpruUoYBzgez7-Wcm479pBBUlZfjjYfRIuNcxq7iuy2AIgUVpdbg17knD48vIC-_de56Db4RWkxX70Vw8Wd3gnSaZz9YPlg/s320/FATAL+RETURN+COVER.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>When an eccentric billionaire hires Jake Sands, a maritime history professor, to give the farewell speech for the Queen Mary's last voyage, Jake readily accepts the offer, not knowing he will be sucked into a fatal plot for revenge that began in WWII with a disaster five times more deadly than the Titanic.</strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://amzn.to/1Ujl2Hq"><span style="font-size: large;">FATAL RETURN</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>.</span><br />
<em><span style="font-size: large;">You can find all of his books at </span></em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em><span style="font-size: large;">Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</span></em></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 18.39px;"> </span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-62121805111291908702016-01-17T15:22:00.001-08:002016-03-03T10:51:16.030-08:00New Release<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">BRANDT IS BACK!</span></strong></span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong> </div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"> Rogue Op: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (Brandt Series Book 3)</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvIBCryGeLigwpBmybEdHajorVafupI7AOWJiSfWta_5DnYZ9SUF44UDMmfe6aVUI-JXqki3uuYIRquanyHfprLQXkAQQvBJZ0h7FfHqvSaC1fTaXqja1l_SbzjXQuy0DS5ViyYwCCdzk/s1600/Rogue+Op+Cover+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvIBCryGeLigwpBmybEdHajorVafupI7AOWJiSfWta_5DnYZ9SUF44UDMmfe6aVUI-JXqki3uuYIRquanyHfprLQXkAQQvBJZ0h7FfHqvSaC1fTaXqja1l_SbzjXQuy0DS5ViyYwCCdzk/s320/Rogue+Op+Cover+%25282%2529.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #333333;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="font-weight: bold;">They thought he was dead. They thought that problem was solved. They were wrong. Brandt is back!</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span></span></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span></span></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: large;">Chuck Brandt is determined to save America from a dangerous plot. And he's dead set on saving Maria from her psychotic father--General Ivan Lazar. Chuck is chasing a legend deep into the heart of the Peruvian Amazon, but his impossible quest leads him straight into a green hell. There he faces diverse evils, from the jungle itself to General Lazar's Black Cobra guerrillas--the sadistic monsters tasked with the slow death of Chuck Brandt. He uncovers a horrible secret, but will he be able to stop a madman?</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: #333333;">From a monastery in Spain to deep in the Amazon jungle, Chuck Brandt hunts down the man who started it all, and gets more than he bargained for. Don't miss the explosive climax on the upper reaches of the mighty river.</span></span></span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial";"><em><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Very enjoyable action thriller! I would recommend it to friends."<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: large;">Customer review for The Recruiter</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #333333;"> </span></span></em></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><strong></strong></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">Download here:</span></strong><em><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></em></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><a href="http://amzn.to/1TbBwkF" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size: large;">Rogue Op: A Chuck Brandt Thriller (Brandt Series Book 3)</span></em></a></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial";"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> International customers click here: <a href="http://bookshow.me/B01A027LOK">http://bookshow.me/B01A027LOK</a></span></span>Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-34392189185982747222015-11-14T17:23:00.000-08:002015-11-16T16:28:54.126-08:00The Athenia: First Sinking in WWII's Battle of the Atlantic<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>Roger Weston</o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwFfXRE6ll_FiLvpTSznO4yyVyctkVsyE17h4agVWBJL9LKJ1SIDRmW_ZRgjCGTBlFj5-2-7ExpHn4cojGjb5PGYg3n8gPoImKdkJ-CTuNOsminGMdS9s0j31e9-pksegb8QdJaiP3zA/s1600/The_Athenia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwFfXRE6ll_FiLvpTSznO4yyVyctkVsyE17h4agVWBJL9LKJ1SIDRmW_ZRgjCGTBlFj5-2-7ExpHn4cojGjb5PGYg3n8gPoImKdkJ-CTuNOsminGMdS9s0j31e9-pksegb8QdJaiP3zA/s320/The_Athenia.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />In
October of 1939, the Nazi party’s official newspaper, the <i>Voelkischer
Beobachter</i> broke the story that England had intentionally sunken the cruise
ship <i>Athenia</i> in order to blame Germany and draw the U.S. into the war as
an ally. It was a shocking revelation that England—for political reasons—had
sunk a passenger ship with over 1,100 passengers on it, mostly women and
children. There were also 311 Americans.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Germany’s
accusation against Britain was not just a vague reference in a side bar of the <i>Voelkischer
Beobachter;</i> it was specific. It singled out Winston Churchill, then First
Lord of the Admiralty and accused him of masterminding the diabolical plot. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
America, US Senator Robert Rice Reynolds, among others, claimed that Britain
may have wanted to “infuriate the American people”, which is why they sunk a
ship with hundreds of Americans on board.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
<i>Athenia</i>’s passengers, of course, had not been worried about Churchill
sinking a British ship. Nobody would have thought that he would do such a
thing. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
<i>Athenia</i> had departed from Glasgow on Friday, September 1,
1939—destination Montreal, Canada. England had just declared war on
Germany hours before, and many Americans—at the encouragement of the British
government—secured their tickets on the <i>Athenia</i> to return to America and
flee the war. Ironically, they were about to become its first
victims. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Most
people who boarded the ship expected a safe trip. After all, they were
heading <i>away</i> <i>from</i> Europe where trouble was brewing. They
were heading <i>towards</i> safety. The ship itself was a peaceful place,
a wonderful place to be. In many respects it was just another cruise;
however, the travelers did notice a few disturbing signs. For one, the
windows were all painted black to hide any light; in addition, smoking was
prohibited on deck. Nobody was allowed to even light a match on deck.
Third, the ship sailed a zigzag course to foil any submarine attack—presumably
by German U-boats.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Other
than these minor details, it was life as usual on the <i>Athenia</i>. Although
one crewman was convinced he would never live to see America, this was not the
general sentiment. It was a happy, social time, a time of meeting people in
dining rooms, of relaxing and reading good books. In some respects, life
didn’t get any better than this. They had caught the only ship out, and they
were safe! Children walked happily on deck, enjoying the novel experience.
Games were played. Church services were held. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
sense of relief and excitement didn’t last long, however. In less than 24
hours, a massive explosion rocked the boat; it ripped through the engine room
and blasted the cargo hatch high into the air including people that were
sitting on it. These people landed on deck blackened and lifeless. Mrs.
James Orr, along with her one-year-old daughter, were blasted against the
railing; they survived but with injuries. Crude oil sprayed out of broken
pipes. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
the kitchen, two huge vats of boiling oil spilled onto two cooks, burning them
severely. Out in the dining area, one woman had just dipped her spoon into her
bowl of soup, but that’s as far as her hand ever got. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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the accommodations area, half-dressed people filled smoky passageways that
smelled of cordite. In the darkness, they felt the water level rising up their
legs. Their knees bumped into floating debris. A stairwell had been
eviscerated, leaving some people to climb from edge-to-edge to work their way
up to the main deck.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
ship began to list, causing the lifeboats to hang at awkward angles.
Nevertheless, people who had survived the blast and made it outside gathered
around the lifeboats. They had been through the emergency drill, so there was
some sense of order, but there were also outbreaks of panic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Women
and children were supposed to board lifeboats first, but at one lifeboat
station, a number of men feared there would be no space left for them. They
shoved aside the women and children and tried to claim their seats by force. The
crewman manning that lifeboat fought them back by wielding an ax. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
one of the lifeboats was lowered, a rope broke. Mrs. Orr and her daughter,
who’d just been blasted against the railing, now barely survived another
traumatic event as the lifeboat crashed down into the water. Now, despite her
cracked ribs, Ms. Orr began bailing with their shoes, a chore that would
continue on through a long, dark and very cold night. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not
everyone stayed active. Many of the people in the lifeboats were miserable.
They were sick from the gas that was released in the explosion and seasick from
the rocky ocean. Many were only half dressed. One woman was dressed in nothing
but a satin nightgown. Hypothermia set in for those who had been forced to jump
in the ocean or who had been thrown out of their lifeboat during the rough
launchings. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Look!”</span></i><span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> a woman said,
pointing. “A submarine.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
German U-boat opened fire on the ship’s wireless antennas. It then approached
the scattered lifeboats. The boats were spread out around the sinking ship,
spread out for just this reason—in case a submarine showed up and tried to
machine gun the survivors. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
U-boat approached long enough for the captain to get a good look at the ship.
Then it turned tail and stole away into the night. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Help
us!” a woman cried out. “We’ll die out here!”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
U-boat did not stick around to save a single person. Her German commander, with
his submarine now safely beneath the surface, was in shock. He had thought that
the ship he had attacked was an armed merchant cruiser. After dealing the fatal
blow, he’d approached to identify the ship for his log entry. When he checked
the ship against the Lloyd’s Register, he was sickened to realize that he’d
just sunk an unarmed cruise ship. This was against all prize rules of warfare, for
both Britain and Germany. Commander Lemp realized he had made a horrible
mistake. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As
Lemp stole away in his U-boat, he was in a state of disbelief. He’d been sure
of his conclusion. The ship had been acting like a warship. It had been blacked
out and was following a zigzag course. Plus, it was following an unusual course
for a passenger ship. He began to sweat profusely. He feared he could face a
court marshal back in Germany. He feared what would happen when Admiral Donitz
learned of this. Lemp decided then and there that he must hide his fatal error.
He forced his crew to take an oath of secrecy and never speak of what had
occurred. As for his log entry, he never made it. The event never officially happened.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Up
on the surface, the people in the lifeboats were miserable and shaking in the
cold because of what had happened, and they were the lucky ones. Many had been
killed in the explosion. For the survivors, it was a night of suffering.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One
woman, Mrs. Rhonda Thomas or Rochester, New York, had been well dressed because
she’d been out on deck. A naked baby was handed to her to keep under her coat.
The baby had no relatives in the boat. Mrs. Thomas and another woman shared
duties, alternately rowing and sheltering the infant. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Unidentified
bodies floated by in the water. It was enough to plunge a person into deep
depression and despair, the sort that weakened the individual’s propensity for
survival. People dealt with their grief in different ways. Some women and
children cried. Others endured the pain of serious injuries. A cook was not
expected to live from his burns. He was in a miserable state. People did what
they had to do to adjust and keep their morale up. Some prayed while others
sung hymns. Women bailed with their shoes and found that keeping busy kept
their mind off their fate. By morning, some of the people had died.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then
ships began to arrive on the scene. The Sweedish yacht <i>Southern Cross</i>,
the US cargo ship <i>City of Flint</i>, the Norwegian tanker <i>Knute Nelson</i>,
and the US destroyers <i>Electra</i> and <i>Escort</i> all showed up to rescue
survivors. Rope ladders were thrown over the sides of ships. Those who could
climb did so. Others were raised by rope. Many lives were saved, but there were
also accidents. Some of the ‘survivors’ fell and were crushed to death between
their lifeboat and rescue ship when the waves lifted and lunged the smaller
boats against the bigger ones. Fifty people died when one of the lifeboats was
crushed under the propeller of the tanker <i>Knute Nelson</i>. While there was
sadness, there was also relief. Together, the rescue ships saved 981 lives
while the US destroyer <i>Fame</i> did an anti-submarine sweep during the rescue
operations.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In
Germany, Admiral Donitz learned of the sinking from the BBC. Hitler was
furious, but he decided to cover it up. Lemp’s war diary was falsified. Hitler
denied Germany’s role and used the incident as propaganda, blaming England to
hopefully drive a wedge between England and America. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Commander
Lemp went on to sink twenty more ships. Finally, he was killed when his German
U-boat was severely damaged by depth charges. He surfaced, and before
destroying classified materials, he ordered his men to abandon the sinking
ship. The sub was boarded by sailors of the <i>HMS Bulldog</i>. They did a
quick search and found an infamous German encryption device—a find that soon
helped America win the Atlantic war. Lemp’s fate is matter of confusion. He was
either shot in the water or chose to drown rather than be taken prisoner. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Either
way, Lemp played a key role in World War Two history—as the man whose crucial
mistake launched the Battle of the Atlantic—and as the man who caused the
beginning of the end of that battle, when, thinking his ship was doomed, he
failed to destroy sensitive equipment. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
Battle of the Atlantic was the longest unbroken military campaign of World War
Two. It raged on from 1939 through 1945. During that time, 3,500 merchant ships
and 175 warships were sunk against 783 sunken U-boats.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "" serif "" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For
the actions of one rogue, one Commander Lemp, to have had such a profound
impact on the beginning and the end of the Battle of the Atlantic is truly astonishing. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><em>After learning about the worst maritime disaster of all time, resulting in an even greater loss of life than the RMS Titanic, I wrote </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank"><em>FATAL RETURN</em></a><em>. This little known tragedy took place on a cold and dark night during WWII. I was so fascinated about the circumstances surrounding this shipwreck that I wove it into my novel</em></span><em> </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank"><em>FATAL RETURN</em></a>. </span></div>
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<strong>Download Fatal Return here</strong>: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank">FATAL RETURN</a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><strong></strong></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><strong></strong></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank"><img alt="FATAL RETURN" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iqlBoMg0_EG_8aCblHg1qbECYqvaRfymnPiZ4F9CHXj-iE06RFueV4voZPc1UbSABnfw120fRjY3Otdh2RUWGKd9UtCcAYhJvmVTe-kCFPflmwX1VCgpRgzN64nVC15wg_TvNxv1I38/s320/FATAL+RETURN+COVER.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>. </div>
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<em>You can find all of his books at: </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-55591574207087738932015-08-07T08:41:00.001-07:002018-06-24T10:54:42.276-07:00The Sinking of the SS Sirio<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">High Tragedy at Sea</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By Roger Weston</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh341nvUK1uLRybT8J6sqrIbEceBU753D1WBDLRyVXZylLFP6d978kQlr73v0rK6gu8MTEoQrXFjNSevRjWTVuZgvHhOLJORqDHx4g0V0CISxFu8ujF8qwuEEgszkj_bkaMJpFyeCiV7G4/s1600/Sinking+of+the+SS+Sirio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh341nvUK1uLRybT8J6sqrIbEceBU753D1WBDLRyVXZylLFP6d978kQlr73v0rK6gu8MTEoQrXFjNSevRjWTVuZgvHhOLJORqDHx4g0V0CISxFu8ujF8qwuEEgszkj_bkaMJpFyeCiV7G4/s320/Sinking+of+the+SS+Sirio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Italian merchant
steamer, <i>SS Sirio</i>, departed from
Genoa on August 2, 1904, starting on a voyage that the Italian immigrants onboard
believed would be a restful and peaceful ride to begin their new lives in
Argentina. After picking up additional passengers in Barcelona, Spain, the
ship, with almost 800 souls on board, set out for South America on August 4.
However, she did not get far at all. In fact, she was only 2 ½ miles east of
Cape Palos near Cartagena, Spain when she ran aground at full-speed on a reef
off Hormigas Island.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fishermen had taken
notice of the <i>SS Sirio</i>, which was cruising
close by in tricky waters. They heard a tremendous crashing noise when the ship
hit a reef. They saw passengers knocked off their feet from the impact, falling
hard onto the <i>SS Sirio</i>’s steel decks.
For the fishermen, it was a grim moment to see the brutal crash. However, in
the next four minutes, that moment of shock melted into a surreal experience as
they watched the ship’s stern rapidly sink below the rippling, pulsating
surface of the shiny blue waters. Fortunately, these fishermen were not passive
men. They knew the sea as well as they knew their own mothers, maybe better.
They were highly competent on the waters. Realizing that a disaster was
unfolding, they flew into action. They needed little urging; however, they got
some anyway. The stern of the <i>SS Sirio</i>
sank so quickly that within just four minutes, it was underwater, and the
fishermen could hear the screams of the drowning. The bow was still above the
surface, like a dolphin sticking its nose out of the sea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">While the fishermen began
their rescue efforts, a truly tragic, life-and-death drama was playing out on
board ship. By one account, the captain was not on the bridge when the ship
struck the reef; rather, he’d turned over the helm to an inexperienced third
mate. If so, this was one of a series of misjudgments, which is surprising. After
all, the captain had forty-six years experience and a flawless record. This was his
final voyage before retirement. Perhaps he let his guard down and decided to
relax a little on this last trip. Forty-six years experience. Flawless record.
Hundreds of thousands of sea captains never achieved such an impressive record.
Captain Giuseppe Piccone could sail a ship from Spain to Argentina in his sleep
if he had to. Not, however, on this particular day, this most tragic day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The fishermen and
the passengers on the <i>SS Sirio</i> weren’t
the only players in this epic tragedy. There was a full cast, and all the
actors were on hand. There were other ships in the area. One of those vessels
was the French steamer <i>Marie Louise</i>.
Her captain saw the whole disaster unfold. He saw the <i>SS Sirio</i> on a risky course through a dangerous area when she
crashed into a submerged obstacle. The bow of the doomed ship rose up out of
the water like a breaching whale. The boiler exploded. It erupted like Mount
Vesuvius, a tremendous explosion. Screams were heard. Bodies were suddenly
floating past the<i> Marie Louise</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I want a boat in
the water now,” the captain of the Marie Louise ordered. “Save anyone you can.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Over on the <i>SS Sirio</i>, Captain Giuseppe Piccone had a
different perspective because it was his ship that was sinking. One thing Piccone
lacked was experience in
dealing with shipwrecks and calamity. For <i>forty-six</i>
<i>years</i>, he had avoided trouble. Conflicting
accounts emerged in the press as to what happened on this fateful day. Some said
the captain froze; others testified that panic broke out and he tried to
contain it, but couldn’t. The captain himself later confessed that his actions
were imprudent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why would a captain
with forty-six years experience take imprudent actions? Why would he take a course
that was obviously dangerous according to the captain of the <i>Marie Louise</i>? The <i>SS Sirio</i> was not just any ship. Her entire career had been devoted to
delivering immigrants from Italy and Spain to South America. She had safely
helped over 170,000 immigrants begin new lives in Argentina. Thousands and
thousands of people had fond memories of this ship. It is reported, however,
that these were not all legal immigrants.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The <i>SS Sirio</i> was known to frequently make
unofficial stops along the coast of Spain where illegal immigrants were taken
aboard for a steep price. These illegal immigrants made the trans-Atlantic
journeys more profitable. Easy profits were enough to sway owners and captains
to take extra risks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In life, it is said
that the toughest trees are those that must survive in the wind because they
must grow the stoutest roots in order to withstand the harsh elements. As
stated, Captain Giuseppe Piccone had enjoyed a smooth career. According to the
press, when the tragedy sprung upon him, he froze, he choked, he couldn’t
function. He was among the first to abandon ship. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Seeing the captain
flee naturally distressed the hundreds of passengers. Chaos broke out on deck. As
the stern quickly sank, passengers scrambled for the bow. They fought to get
there first. They fought for real estate because prices were rising quickly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They fought
viciously. Fear rode on their backs. Pandemonium reigned. Primitive instincts
ruled. Passengers who hours earlier treated each other as new friends now
trampled over each other to save themselves. While attempts were made to deploy
lifeboats, fights broke out—knife fights. This was truly survival of the
fittest. It didn’t occur over millions of years; it played out in a matter of a
few desperate minutes. <i>Even</i> f<i>ights to the death.</i> Passengers were
spared drowning because they were murdered in bloody brawls. The knowledge of
economics proved less valuable than the knowledge of brute violence. Awful sounds
carried across the waters—shouts of men, screams of women, and cries of
children. The pretenses of civilized man were stripped away, revealing raw,
savage survival instincts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">While some behaved
badly under pressure, others responded differently. The Bishop of Sao Pablo was onboard and blessed drowning passengers as the ship went down. That is how he died. A
monk died while kneeling on deck in prayer. The Austrian Consul to Rio de
Janeiro leapt overboard in a life belt, but when he came across a mother and
child about to give up to the sea, he gave them his life saving device. He then tried to
fight the currents and swim for land without it. When a boat pulled him from
the water, they said he was exhausted. Had they not saved him, he might well
have perished. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A young mother
clinging to her baby was told, “<i>Dump the
child, you fool! Save yourself!</i>”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Never,” she cried.
“We’ll die together!” As it turned out, they were among the survivors. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There were many survivors
because various ships and trawlers in the area steamed to their rescue. One of
these was the trawler <i>Joven Miguel</i>. The
crew of the <i>Joven Miguel</i>, however, panicked
and considered breaking away from the rescue because they feared they would be
overloaded and sink. Facing a mutiny, the captain drew his pistol and shouted,
“As long as it’s possible to take on another passenger, we will not move.” Fearing
the captain more than the sea, they returned to the rescue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As they took on more
swimmers, the captain realized that they were becoming top heavy and might very
well capsize. He ordered the survivors below decks, but they were gripped
with fear and refused. The captain brought out his pistol again. He waved it
around in the air. “Get below now or I’ll shoot you and throw you back into
water.” The passengers, having just been rescued, now realized that they were
at the mercy of a gun-wielding madman. They hurried below, which steadied the
boat and kept her safe from capsizing. The madman saved 300 lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Another trawler, the
<i>Vicenta Llicano</i> hauled out 200
people. An old man in a dinghy saved twelve more. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">More fishermen along
the coast sent out boats to rescue passengers. Some of those big-hearted
mariners overloaded their boats with people. As a result, their boats
overturned, dooming the fishermen along with those they had tried to save. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When all the survivors
were brought ashore, a whole new tragic drama began. Parents who’d been
separated from their children wept bitterly upon learning that their children
were missing. One woman couldn’t take the agony and heartbreak. Her mental
faculties fragmented. She literally went insane over her lost child. Many
rescued children realized that their parents had died, leaving them as orphans.
As they looked out to sea, they saw their parents’ graves. As they looked
around on land, they saw their own scary, lonely futures.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In some cases,
spirits were broken by adversity. Some of the survivors gave up their dreams of
immigrating to Argentina. They resolved to return—by land—to their homeland—for
good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">All told, 300 people
died in the shipwreck of the <i>SS Sirio</i>.
A year later, it was reported that Captain Giuseppe Piccone died of grief.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;"><b>Author's note: </b>After learning about the SS Sirio, I wrote <a href="https://amzn.to/2Ioyvub" target="_blank">THE CONFESSION</a>. <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">If you like fast-paced action packed thrillers in the style of Clive Cussler, Matthew Reilly, and James Patterson check out<span style="color: #000120;"> </span></span></span><a href="https://amzn.to/2Ioyvub" target="_blank">THE CONFESSION<span style="color: #007600;">.</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="color: #007600;"></span>You can purchase it here</strong>: </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://amzn.to/2Ioyvub" target="_blank">THE CONFESSION</a></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;"><strong></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;"><a href="https://amzn.to/2MUM1Jn"><img alt="https://amzn.to/2MUM1Jn" border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gpI-ZBnMFpLC7jL3_XQbOaMug6wk3BGYxhY-IblLrsl-oRA7_SI1vHqBsPwods2l3B49FHGIdaSaTYHE9gxBQQO-gfjHUTnnr373Zwu3qaxLq3-cD1jt4R5Uk65qZHv1jSwHT2lCsHc/s320/TheConfession.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>.</div>
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<em>You can find all of his books here: </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;"> </span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-56523217618919369932015-07-31T11:33:00.000-07:002015-07-31T13:34:24.377-07:00Auction: The Mel & Deo Fisher CollectionLooking for shipwreck treasure? Mark your calendar for August 5th.<br />
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<a href="http://invaluable.com/">Invaluable.com</a> is teaming up with Guernsey's to auction off 126 lots of sunken treasure from the Nuestra Senora de Atocha, the most famous member of a fleet of Spanish ships that sank in 1622 after sailing into a violent hurricane. American treasure hunter Mel Fisher discovered the sunken treasure. To mark the thirty-year anniversary of this astonishing discovery, Guernsey's will auction off items from Fisher's Collection. A portion of the proceeds will benefit the Michael Abt, Jr. Have a Heart Foundation, which works to provide Automatic External Defibrillators (AED) to schools nationwide. <br />
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This auction, <a href="http://www.invaluable.com/catalog/searchLots.cfm?scp=c&catalogRef=LCOZ5LM9LU">The Mel & Deo Fisher Collection</a>, starts at 7:00 PM EST on the 5th, and will feature a selection of 126 incredible treasure lots. On July 20, 1985 Fisher’s perseverance paid off: over 40 tons of silver and gold were located at the site of the wreck off the Marquesas Keys. Including more than 100,000 Spanish silver coins known as "pieces of eight," gold coins, the finest Colombian emeralds, silver and gold artifacts, and over 1,000 silver bars, the Atocha contained riches vast enough to replenish the nearly depleted treasury of the Spanish Crown.<br />
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Check out the amazing items below for a sampling of the pieces that will be up for auction on August 5th.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5BNm1E8lsmP6xPLyObX1QH1YPsLZiLKNHrOqOtCwdJ_Msd5PD2Pp5Tt48gXgwZeIgAFso0SEuQrO8GiBVesr8tYovqzRP-OfDk1eknxTbB-sgjbYRw_Sl5u53b9I0mIDlLiwR9upKAmw/s1600/atocha+emerald+ring.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5BNm1E8lsmP6xPLyObX1QH1YPsLZiLKNHrOqOtCwdJ_Msd5PD2Pp5Tt48gXgwZeIgAFso0SEuQrO8GiBVesr8tYovqzRP-OfDk1eknxTbB-sgjbYRw_Sl5u53b9I0mIDlLiwR9upKAmw/s200/atocha+emerald+ring.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/atocha-emerald-ring-70-c-a224e66b7c">Lot 70</a>: Atocha Emerald Ring<br />
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Estimated Price: $65,000 - $80,000<br />
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This elegant and delicate ring speaks for itself. A truly unique solitaire design recovered from the site of the shipwrecked Nuestra Señora de Atocha in 1994. The ring size is 5.5. The emerald is a brilliant green with a slight chip and weighs approximately 2.5 carats. It is set in a high-karat gold ring which was typical of the wealthier class during the early 17th century. This beautiful artifact is the property of Taffi Fisher, Mel's only daughter and youngest child. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpASDdP9rRPaM-CgLNvNwGMXbXEg-J6GGt9GCUoytXQ4IMgLcT8xPiZtaRbOiCOlLP12VxWSOppzNnpHzlaUbYkCVkGY8sOsH790NPP7vMQbl_pG80Xwnhb5Bxjy7Za28tl1fMmXOVpY0/s1600/auction+silver+brazier.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpASDdP9rRPaM-CgLNvNwGMXbXEg-J6GGt9GCUoytXQ4IMgLcT8xPiZtaRbOiCOlLP12VxWSOppzNnpHzlaUbYkCVkGY8sOsH790NPP7vMQbl_pG80Xwnhb5Bxjy7Za28tl1fMmXOVpY0/s320/auction+silver+brazier.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/silver-brazier-71-c-3864170a80">Lot 71</a>: Silver Brazier<br />
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Estimated Price: $10,000 - $12,000<br />
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This extravagant two-piece silver box was the 17th-century version of a portable heater. Having a personal source of heat was a luxury for the wealthy in the 1600s, and so braziers such as this were filled with warm coals to heat up a ship's cabin, or even be placed under the many layers of a woman's dress while she was seated. This piece remains unconserved and should be handled with care.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTNsI_AapUtR64KI-ACLicJ71LDiJEJJpOk9vB3gxQwl_Hjiv5AK5v5dQKIr_PCPVjlMKiYj8wVs7A4wpwAx_oPnmId9VEjXzM48uRwA630QoK9UNMpskGeN3-rpuJ2Gt8tZ9NoaMO4s/s1600/Mel+Fisher+Gold+Chalice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTNsI_AapUtR64KI-ACLicJ71LDiJEJJpOk9vB3gxQwl_Hjiv5AK5v5dQKIr_PCPVjlMKiYj8wVs7A4wpwAx_oPnmId9VEjXzM48uRwA630QoK9UNMpskGeN3-rpuJ2Gt8tZ9NoaMO4s/s320/Mel+Fisher+Gold+Chalice.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/gold-chalice-73-c-08544699de">Lot 73</a>: Gold Chalice<br />
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Estimated Price: $400,000 - $500,000<br />
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Since its discovery, the chalice has undergone conservation efforts lead by marine archaeologists, who also removed a layer of white, calcareous concretion -- no doubt the result of having been imbedded in the ocean floor for nearly four centuries. The rim of this gold chalice is etched with scrollwork, images of animals, and there is a crest in the center of the cup that remains in pristine condition. Although experts have not linked the crest to any of the ship's passengers, there is a helm above the engraving that could signify its owner as having been a Duke or a Baron. The gold shines radiantly with a deep hue and is of a high karat weight. A portion of a tax stamp is visible on the edge of the base, and another is present on the bottom of the cup. The base is threaded onto the bottom of the chalice and it turns as if it were made yesterday.<br />
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Check out other <a href="http://www.invaluable.com/historical-political-space-collectibles/cc-WHUZCHPFAQ/">historical items</a> and <a href="http://www.invaluable.com/collectibles/pc-BQWOG3FLWY/">collectibles</a> up for auction on <a href="http://invaluable.com/">Invaluable.com</a><br />
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<em>Information provided by Jordan Bellows of Invaluable.com</em> <br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 12.8px/normal arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 1; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span>Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-90514591683362271322015-07-21T15:48:00.000-07:002015-07-21T15:48:00.561-07:00The Shipwreck and the Lighthouse <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 115%;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">The
Shipwreck and the Lighthouse<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 115%;">July
of 1865</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">by </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Roger Weston</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-q7k5A_nQCNphH2nMn94ujO8XbkatYa9Pb-ga6ohpFd6JmnEfy4zyAtz49rXiAPewG9jFeaBFRiBxAnEYy6QhWuyvT36pmjPrchilDUOSecw4PR46zlQnE9Cd878CN9Fh71_-Wo43TM/s1600/SSBrotherJonathan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-q7k5A_nQCNphH2nMn94ujO8XbkatYa9Pb-ga6ohpFd6JmnEfy4zyAtz49rXiAPewG9jFeaBFRiBxAnEYy6QhWuyvT36pmjPrchilDUOSecw4PR46zlQnE9Cd878CN9Fh71_-Wo43TM/s320/SSBrotherJonathan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Wind blew with wild abandon, carrying sheets of rain in a massive downpour. Riding low in the water, carrying 244 passengers and
crew, the side-wheeler, the </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">S.S. Brother
Jonathan,</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> was en-route from San Francisco to Portland, Oregon. Her
passengers, including dignitaries, settlers, freed slaves, prospectors, and a
group of women living very hard lives—enjoyed first-class accommodations. Her
cargo included gold. The 221-foot steamer got as far north as the Rogue River,
but out at sea, the storm was fierce. Waves tossed the ship and crashed over her decks. She sank down into deep, watery valleys, and when she rose on big
swells, she took the full force of the wind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Fear gripped the hearts of many passengers and
crewmen. As the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan</i>
pressed on, nature flung her unbridled wrath at the ship. Wind howled through
the rigging. The hull creaked and moaned, and passengers feared she would break
up. Anything not bolted down was thrown about. In the galley, plates flew out
of storm shelves and crashed on the floor. Pots and pans crashed. The noise was
tremendous. Sea sickness spread like wildfire. Passengers began retching all
over the place, and the smell below decks was not pleasant. Children cried.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Finally, the captain made a dramatic, fateful
decision. He would turn the boat around and head back to Crescent City,
California to find shelter. The <i>S.S.
Brother Jonathan </i>had Crescent City within her grasp when a particularly
large swell lifted her on high. She then swooped down into the ensuing trough where
an underwater granite spire punctured her hull, opening up a geyser inside the
paddle wheeler. Water began to fill the ship. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The crew worked vigorously to deploy the lifeboats,
but in those wild seas, it was perilous work. They successfully launched the
first boat. However, she’d barely cleared the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan </i>when a breaker capsized her, dooming 40
passengers who just moments before had thought themselves saved from the
sinking ship.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Shocked and horrified, the crew had no time to
mourn. There were more passengers to save and precious little time to save
them. Crewmen struggled to keep their balance on the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan</i>’s<i> </i>tilting,
shifting decks. Wind threatened to knock them down or blow them overboard.
Salty spray blew in their faces as they worked. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As they lowered the second lifeboat, a moment of
surreal horror registered in their brains as they watched a wave crush the
lifeboat against the hull of the <i>S.S.
Brother Jonathan</i>. Helpless to save another boatload of their fellow
voyagers, the remaining crew and passengers watched them perish right before
their eyes. The violent ocean devoured them. Onboard the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan</i>, people who hadn’t prayed in years did so now
with passion and urgency. One passenger wrote out his will. Others took stock of
their lives. Their ordeal dragged out for 45 minutes, after which the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan</i> sank like a rock.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">During the mayhem, one lifeboat was successfully launched, and it carried
nineteen people to shore. As those passengers reached land, they were gripped
with conflicting emotions. There was thanksgiving and a level of appreciation for
life that they had never known before. Men and women crawled on the sand and
wept. A creeping sense of guilt touched some of them because they had lived
while so many others had not. Out of 244 good people, those nineteen were the
only survivors. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After the storm, bodies washed up on the shores of
Northern California and Southern Oregon. One of the bodies was that of James
Nisbet, the man who’d written out his will on the sinking ship. His will was
recovered from his pocket and later the terms were carried out. Many more bodies
washed ashore. These bodies brought news to Oregonians, sad news, news of life
and death, of tragedy and warning. Such tragic news from the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan</i> was not expected.
She was known for bringing good news. Only six years previously, in 1859, the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan</i> had brought
Oregonians news that she had been admitted to the union as the 33<sup>rd</sup> state.
Often she brought gold from the goldfields of California. In fact, she was
carrying a payload on this trip. Some say she was overloaded with cargo, which is
why she rode low in the water. Her cargo included mill machinery, mining
equipment, horses, and even two camels. Part of that cargo was a treasure chest
of gold. Her cargo also included rare San Francisco gold coins that had been
minted the year of the shipwreck, 1865. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Such things, however, would not matter to the lost passengers of the <i>S.S.
Brother Jonathan. </i>Gold counted as nothing. Statehood was irrelevant. Their bodies
washed up on the beaches, carried there by life preservers that could not save
them from hypothermia in the freezing waters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In 1865, the loss of the <em>S.S. Brother Jonathan</em> was the deadliest shipwreck ever to occur on the Pacific Coast. However, it was many years before her wreckage was found.<br /><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It wasn't until the 1930s, that a fisherman hauled up a grimy load. It was an old metal
lifeboat from the <i>S.S. Brother Jonathan.</i>
Inspecting his catch, the curious fisherman found a rotten leather valise that
was jammed under one of the seats. When
he opened the valise, he was stunned. It contained twenty-two pounds of gold.
In his career as a fisherman, this was his most exciting catch ever. It was
a gift from the long-lost shipwreck, the <i>S.S.
Brother Jonathan.</i> It’s hard to explain how leather could last 70 years
underwater. Perhaps it’s one of the mysteries of the sea. Perhaps the fisherman
got his story wrong. Probably, we will never know. At the time, private
ownership of gold was illegal, and the fisherman secreted away his catch,
sealing his lips and keeping his mouth shut about his rare find. Later on, his memory failed him and he could not recall the exact location where he’d netted the lifeboat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />Then, i</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">n 1993, a treasure hunting expedition carried out
by Deep Sea Research (DSR) found the wreckage at a depth of 250 feet with the help of
a mini sub. She was found fully two miles from the best estimates of the
shipwreck’s location. That she had moved so far underwater was attributed to
the air pockets within the ship and the powerful currents. In 1996, DSR
salvaged 1,206 Double Eagle $20 gold coins in near-mint
condition. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Government bureaucrats threatened legal action
against DSR unless they received a cut of the bounty. DSR settled by turning over 200 coins to
the State of California. DSR auctioned off the rest of the coins bringing in $5.3 million dollars. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVEFAwvq_OBpXCxZMZkLu77G3c_hN71xufrmZuAvumEfTt5NwxSntUw1Hg1GhTk4XwjQEYmlolTeVsQ96o66bl_DAxMs5tRN-TYKHt6vLUAk3Ponv8WnRgUZGVy9Aqhi4cyyLQPf2jHk/s1600/StGeorgeLighthouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpVEFAwvq_OBpXCxZMZkLu77G3c_hN71xufrmZuAvumEfTt5NwxSntUw1Hg1GhTk4XwjQEYmlolTeVsQ96o66bl_DAxMs5tRN-TYKHt6vLUAk3Ponv8WnRgUZGVy9Aqhi4cyyLQPf2jHk/s320/StGeorgeLighthouse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Today in Crescent City, California, one can visit
the Brother Jonathan Cemetery and Memorial; however, the memorial is not the
only legacy of the </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Brother Jonathan</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">.
There is another, and on a clear day, it can be seen six miles off shore. It is the St. George Reef Lighthouse, which
was constructed after the </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Brother Jonathan</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
shipwreck. The beacon is situated on the Dragon Rocks of St. George Reef. Its
purpose was to warn mariners of the rocks and thereby prevent another tragedy
like that of the </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">S.S. Brother Jonathan</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The St. George Lighthouse has stood tall and endured
almost a century of powerful, frightful winter storms. During that time, four lighthouse keepers have been killed on the
job. Service at St. George Lighthouse was considered to be the most dangerous
assignment of the lighthouse service. The lighthouse is built on a low-lying,
wave-thrashed rock, and even today, it is not safe for a boat to attempt a
landing here. Operations were ceased in 1975; however, a group called the <i>St. George Reef Lighthouse Preservation
Society</i> is dedicated to its maintenance and continuation. Thanks to their
efforts, the light shines on. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />Built on a wave-washed rock, the base of the
lighthouse consists of hundreds of granite blocks, which are able to endure the
eternal pounding of the crashing surf. The tower rises 150 feet above the water
and is topped off with a cast-iron lantern room, which today, thanks to the St.
George Reef Lighthouse Preservation Society, is fully automated. Even today,
sailors and fishermen are kept safe by the light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Oh, and one more thing. The salvors of the <em>SS Brother Jonathan</em> revealed that 4/5 of the SS Brother Jonathan's treasure has not been found. The safe carrying the her gold is still missing.<br />
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<strong>Side note:</strong> I've always been fascinated by missing treasure. In <a href="https://www.blogger.com/After%20learning%20about%20Kiska%20Island’s%20unique%20wartime%20history,%20I%20was%20inspired%20to%20use%20it%20as%20the%20setting%20of%20my%20novel,%20THE%20GOLDEN%20CATCH.%20The%20story%20centers%20around%20a%20Japanese%20shipwreck%20and%20it’s%20mysterious%20cargo.%20PURCHASE%20HERE:%20http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY">The Golden Catch</a> I wrote about what happens when crab fisherman and ex-assassin Frank Murdoch finds a cache of golden treasure on his remote Alaskan Island. If you liked action-packed thrillers set on the high seas you might want to give it a try. </div>
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<strong>Available on Amazon</strong>: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY">THE GOLDEN CATCH</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY" target="_blank"><img alt="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxgl6qLqfi9qd0-6T7xaFq_UnJcIRwy4RRzb3WV-VD-4_zxOCt3IzRt5TAmq5t3gpRrukKocQ3UgNdYPB8YKKWJqFZhAP-ZsxmOJRmD4zFqgVJt0aT-wnWFtavsYHR4iABIWziyyIPC8/s1600/Golden+Catch+(1).jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>. </div>
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<em>You can find all of his books here: </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<strong>If you enjoyed this story please share it by using one of the links below. To receive more shipwreck stories in your inbox sign up to receive my emails. </strong> </div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-17773376443702182532015-06-17T20:02:00.000-07:002015-06-30T22:24:41.357-07:00 Shipwreck of Tears: The SS Norge<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="line-height: 27.6000003814697px;">By Roger Weston</span></span></h2>
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<img height="310" 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" width="400" /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />In 1903, a 37-year old Norwegian mother named Eline
Sofie was on the most exciting trip of her life—a trans-Atlantic crossing on
the passenger liner <i>SS Norge</i>. Along
with her six children, she was sailing to America to join her husband and begin
a new life in a country with more opportunity than anyplace else in the world.
A fisherman named Jens Johansen Svartfjeld was also on board the ship. He was on
his way to Minnesota along with his wife and five children. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On June 22, 1903, the SS Norge embarked from
Copenhagen, Denmark under the experienced hand of Captain Gundel, who had
sailed the ship since 1901. Onboard were 405 passengers from Denmark and a crew
of 67. In Oslo, Norway, 232 passengers, including 70 children, came onboard for
the journey across the Atlantic. All told, hundreds of people who were eager to
start a new life in America were now passengers and closer by the hour to
seeing their dreams come true. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There was no mystery as to why these people were
going to the United States. It was a land of dreams, a place where people could
start with nothing and achieve success. It didn’t matter if they were born
poor. Unlike Europe, anybody could improve their situation in America. It
didn’t matter what their status was. With hard work and ingenuity, anything was
possible. To sail to America was like sailing on the clouds.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By the third day at sea, the excitement began to
sink in. The sky was blue. The sea
glittered. Passengers began to mingle and tell their hard-luck stories of
entrenched poverty in Europe and share their dreams for the future. Some of
them danced on deck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That night, some had a hard time sleeping due to
their excitement, others because of the rough waters that had kicked up after
dark. The boat was tossed around like a cork. Those who slept were jolted awake
early in the morning, but not by the waves. A horrific crash shook the boat.
The terrifying noise unleashed fear and dread in the hearts of the men, women,
and children. Rudely awakened, they soon heard water sloshing around. Panic ensued as hundreds of half-dressed
people ran for the upper decks. The
decks were crowded. The mass of panic-stricken people cried out in different
languages when they realized they were on a sinking ship and the sea around
them was actually their graveyard—and was presently whispering their name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />A woman grabbed a crewman by the arm. “What’s
happening?” she begged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />“Nothing to worry about, <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><em><span style="font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">ma'am</span></em></span>. Calm down. We hit a rock. The captain
knows what to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As people scrambled for life belts, the captain backed
the ship off the rocks. No sooner had the ship regained headway when it was
discovered that water was flooding the hold. This was called out in
Scandinavian. A realization of imminent death stuck the hearts of the people.
Fear swept over them and filled their souls with misery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The sobs of old ladies filled the air. Screams added
to the sense of panic. Women and children clung to each other. 240 Russians got
down on their knees and prayed. Men wrung their hands. Little children cried. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The ship sunk lower into the sea as luggage and
debris began floating on the decks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Several quick-thinking men worked to free the life
boats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Women and children first!" </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The captain’s
voice was barely heard over all the noise on deck, but some heard him. “</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Women and children
first!" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Plenty
of men ignored the captain if they heard him at all. They forced their way into
the boats, leaving women and children behind on deck. One man who secured a
spot was Fourth Mate Ankersen.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">People continued to fight their way through the
throng to get up front and secure a place. Many piled into overloaded boats. As
a result, when the leaders tried to lower the boats into the water, the rusty
equipment failed, dumping them all into the sea, rendering the boats worthless,
dooming many souls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Several of the life boats were properly deployed
without exceeding their maximum loads. They now floated through a sea of
drowning people—men, women, children, the suffering, and those unprepared to
die, who certainly hadn’t expected to die. People treaded water and begged for
salvation. They realized that death had stolen upon them like a thief in the
night. Their final minutes were ticking off as their light dimmed in the early
morning. They called out for help, but nobody who could help heard them. There
weren’t nearly enough life boats, and the ones in sight were filled to
capacity. Oars dipped in the water as the fortunate ones on board rowed to
distance themselves and save themselves. One overloaded lifeboat sank beneath
the waves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In other boats, people watched in horror as the <i>SS Norge</i> was also going down. The front
end went under first. Then the stern sank, carrying hundreds of people into the
frigid depths. The captain was one of those who went down with the ship.
However, by some miracle, the sea spit him back up and he was picked up by one
of the lifeboats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">People in the boats sobbed. They wept bitterly
because of what they had just seen—and because members of their own families
had been on the ship. Nobody could hear their cries, though, due to the fierce
wind. The wind was especially fierce in the moments when the lifeboats crested
on the huge, black ocean swells. Yesterday they had dreamed of America. Now
they dreamed of land—any land. The only opportunity that mattered now was the
opportunity to survive another day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Survival</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">—it
had all come down to that. Just to survive and to live another day was a
precious gift beyond imagination. Poverty? Hardship? These were minor concerns.
Lack of opportunity? Nonsense. There was opportunity where a body
could find land—opportunity to wrap oneself in a dry blanket, to drink fresh
water, to nibble on a slice of bread. That was opportunity of the most sublime type.
Water, food and solid ground—nothing else mattered. All of the
things they’d worried about now seemed totally irrelevant. They could not
imagine that they’d worried over such petty cares as they had. It was all
rubbish now—totally irrelevant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On
one of the lifeboats, Fourth Mate Ankersen took off his boots. “Use them to
bail water,” he said. He then jumped into the water. The others on the boat had
just watched a man sacrifice himself so that they would have a better chance of
survival. Or was it because of the guilt he felt?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On
another boat, a brave young woman took the most dangerous spot as the craft rose
and fell in the massive waves. She was constantly doused with freezing water.
Thinly dressed, she ignored the cold. To her, suffering was irrelevant. Danger
was nothing. She bailed frantically and all the while shouted words of
encouragement to the others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As the days passed, ships were spotted in the far
distance. When sightings took place, an amazing thing happened on the boats.
People that were previously demoralized and weak suddenly, as if by magic,
regained their strength. Hope fueled them on the moment. Depression vanished
into thin air to be replaced with excitement and adrenaline. But the people on
the ships could not see the tiny life boats. The ships soon disappeared over
the horizon. Now the same hungry,
thirsty people became even more despondent than before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The half-dressed survivors suffered through cold,
wet nights. Fresh water was scarce, and thirst was a cruel tormentor. Some made
the mistake of drinking salt water. Others cut themselves just to wet their
miserable tongues and throats with their own blood. As the days passed, several
of the children passed away. One who died was a Russian boy. His mother hid his
body under her dress. She did this because she feared that the others would
bury the child at sea. And this she would not allow. She steeled herself and
held her boy close, protecting him from the pitiless ocean, determined to take
him home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The various boats drifted apart. Then, over the next
week, five of them were rescued by different ships on different days over the
next week. One was picked up after twenty-four hours. Others drifted for five, six, and seven
days. Three fully-loaded life boats were never seen again. They drifted into
eternity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What became of the 37-year old Norwegian mother
named Eline Sofie, who along with her six children was traveling to America to
join her husband in Minnesota?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The husband who anxiously awaited his young family
never saw them again. Instead of a joyous reunion, of taking his wife in his
arms and laughing with his children, he received the crushing news that his family had perished with the </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">SS Norge</i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> two miles off the coast of Scotland. They were gone. They were only memories now.
The cold Minnesota winters would be even colder for this man. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What about the fisherman named Jens Johansen
Svartfjeld who was on his way to Minnesota along with his wife and five
children? Their dreams all ended at sea. The entire family died. The last tears of the children fell into the
salty sea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Many families either lost several members or
were wiped out completely. As of 1903, the <i>SS
Norge</i> was the worst civilian maritime disaster in the history of the
Atlantic Ocean. This was eight years before the wreck of the <i>RMS Titanic</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Author's Note:</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> The investigation following the accident
revealed that several factors led to the <i>SS
Norge</i> disaster, including captain error. For instance, the captain chose to sail almost straight into the uninhabited remote granite islet in the North Atlantic Ocean called Rockall. He did this to show it to the passengers, reminding one of the more recent Costa Concordia disaster. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The captain </span>overlooked the effects of the full moon on the current and tide. As a result, the ship was north of where the captain thought. The effect of the full moon was ignored and this proved to be a fatal oversight. Not only that. but the <em>SS Norge</em> did not have enough lifeboats, had not drilled in emergency procedures, and its life belts were mostly rotted. All these factors resulted in the tragic loss of life on the <em>SS Norge</em>.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><strong>If you enjoyed this story please share it by using one of the links below. To receive more shipwreck stories in your inbox sign up to receive my emails. Thank you in advance for your support!</strong> </o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After learning about the worst maritime disaster of all time, resulting in an even greater loss of life than the <em>RMS Titanic</em>, I wrote <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank">FATAL RETURN</a>. This little known tragedy could also have been prevented if the captain of that ship had considered his situation a little more closely and made better decisions</span>. To learn more about this shipwreck read <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank">FATAL RETURN</a>. </div>
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<strong>You can purchase it here</strong>: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008QPW2YI" target="_blank">FATAL RETURN</a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><strong></strong></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>. </div>
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<em>You can find all of his books here: </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-82146249437071403512015-03-22T23:18:00.002-07:002018-10-11T07:39:46.889-07:00Mystery of the Lusitania Shipwreck<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mystery
of the <i>Lusitania </i>Shipwreck</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"></span><br />by Roger Weston</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Allegedly, anonymous and mysterious telegrams were received by some passengers just before they boarded the fateful journey of a glamorous passenger liner that was to depart from New York on May 1st, 1915. The telegrams warned of impending disaster. They were signed <em>Morte</em>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Such was the beginning of the legendary final journey of the <i>Lusitania</i>, one of the most famous passenger liners ever. And in fact, she was about to play a stunning role in world history. <br /><br />Officials denied the reports of the threatening telegrams. Evidently they were persuasive because 1,256 passengers decided to go ahead with the trans-Atlantic crossing to England—as well as hundreds of crew members. There were other reasons for caution, too. The German embassy in Washington, for example, warned travelers that it was wartime and ships like the <i>Lusitania </i>were legitimate targets. Keep in mind that due to the ongoing hostilities in Europe, crossings were limited. After all, the Germans were sinking ships with stealthy submarines called U-boats. <br /><br />The passengers had plausible reasons to think that they would survive the dangerous trip. After all, the Lusitania was a fast ocean liner. Combine speed with the safety precaution of following a zigzag pattern and they might well have made it. Other ships certainly did. It was also said that no submarine could outrun the Lusitania, winner of the Blue Riband for being the fastest transatlantic liner. There were added factors that would inspire confidence. Passengers felt certain that the Germans would not hit a passenger ship—especially one with Americans onboard. If all of that wasn’t enough, the ship’s brochure advertised that she was “unsinkable”. Many people have blind trust in authorities, and this claim must have given them comfort. The brochure also touted that the <i>Lusitania</i> and her sister ship were “the safest… in the world.” This is a logical conclusion: an unsinkable ship would be safe indeed. These claims could be backed up, too. The ship was constructed with 175 watertight compartments, so that if one compartment was flooded, the others would stay dry, and the boat would be fine—assuming all the watertight doors were closed.<br /><br />Furthermore, the famous multimillionaire Alfred G. Vanderbilt would be along for the crossing. Surely, if well-connected people were taking the trip, everything would be okay. Or would it? It is unlikely that the captain of the German U-boat knew or cared whether or not there were celebrities on board.<br /><br />Amidst all the rumors and hype, the ship kept her schedule. She slipped her moorings on May 1st, and five days later entered dangerous waters. To his credit, the captain took several wise precautions in a display of competence and efficiency. The lifeboats were uncovered and swung out on their davits; the crew was told to have them ready for launch in case of trouble. He also dictated that the ship be blacked out, which was a wise move. He ordered extra lookouts on deck. Then on May 6th, the <i>Lusitania</i> received what must have been a chilling message over the wireless: U-boat activity in the area. <br /><br />Anyone who has been at sea knows that this is not the kind of news that you want to hear. Nevertheless, the <i>Lusitania’s</i> captain was not especially concerned. This much can be inferred from his subsequent actions—or shall we say lack of actions. For example, the British Admiralty had issued critical instructions, which the captain either misunderstood or ignored. No doubt many passengers who signed on for the journey had taken comfort in the <i>Lusitania’s</i> capabilities. She was known for her speed, which meant they could outrun a submarine. There were other precautions a captain could take such as running a zigzag course. This would have made it difficult for a submarine to sink them. The passengers were right to think that these factors worked in their favor; however, the captain, as has been said, ignored such instructions. He also ignored the order to keep clear of headlands and steam in mid-channel. He did the opposite. He ran a lackluster 18 knots, and he ran a straight course, hugging the coast a half mile offshore of the Coningbeg Lightship. He did all this in the very area where the submarines had been sighted. As a result, the <i>Lusitania</i> was an easy target. <br /><br />At 1:20 p.m., a U-boat spotted the massive ocean liner and fired a torpedo, which struck the leviathan amidships. A second blast within the hull was even more powerful. This explosion in the boiler room was probably a detonation of the coal dust. However, the captain of the <i>Lusitania</i> had a secret. He was delivering more than just passengers to England; he was also delivering ammunition for the war against Germany. There were 5,000 cases of cartridges and 1,500 cases of shells. Furthermore, these were stored against the bulkhead leading into the No. 1 boiler room. Some have suggested that the ammunition caused the secondary explosion. Perhaps it did.<br /><br />Either way, the damage was fatal. The ship listed to starboard. Within minutes, she tilted forward and buried her nose in the frigid water. Within 18 minutes, she made her descent to the bottom. Almost 1,200 doomed passengers and crew members made the deep fall with her; by the time the silt settled, they had surely passed on, and the ship had become their watery tombstone. <br /><br />It may seem that this was a routine disaster where a ship was in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong captain. And that may be the case. However, there is a mystery associated with the <i>Lusitania</i>. Some writers have claimed that Winston Churchill, who was at the time first lord of the Admiralty, wanted this disaster. They have suggested that because there were over a hundred Americans aboard, their deaths at the hands of Germans would lure the Americans into the War. It is true that England was in dire straits and desperately needed military help from reluctant America. It is true that this disaster helped tilt the scales toward America entering the war, although not for a couple more years. While this is possible, at least for now, these claims are just conspiracy theories—at least until convincing evidence emerges, which so far has not yet happened after a hundred years.<br /><br />On May 7, 1915, off the coast of Ireland, 1,198 people perished. These were mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. These people took a risk that didn’t pay off. A hotel manager named Albert Bilicke took the cruise for his health because he was recovering from abdominal surhgery. His recovery was cut short by the German torpedo. A 24-year old Canadian girl named Dorothy Braithwaite was on the <i>Lusitania</i> to visit her sisters in London, who had been widowed on the same day. Dorothy never got a chance to console them. Emily Hadfield of Ontario, Canada, was traveling with her 8-month old baby. Emily perished in the shipwreck; however, her baby was plucked out of the water and survived. An opera singer named Millie Baker had been training her voice in France and Spain and was planning to make her stage debut with the Opera Comique, but she was deprived of her big chance. After her death on the <i>Lusitania,</i> her mother received a note in the mail, sent on May 1st, 1915, signed, “Love always, your Millie.” Father Basil W. Maturin, stayed on the sinking ship and never attempted to board a lifeboat. Instead he gave absolution to all who requested it, and he handed a child onto the last lifeboat. <br /><br />More than seven hundred survived the shipwreck, but many endured trauma and survived as a testament of the human spirit. They clung to floating debris and held on for their lives. One woman floated to shore in an armchair. Another woman gave birth in the water. She and her baby survived. A new bride was sucked into one of the funnels of the sinking ship, but was then spit out. She splashed down into the water near her husband’s lifeboat.</span><br />
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>. <em>You can find his books at: </em></div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;"> </span></div>
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<strong>If you enjoyed this story please share it. To receive shipwreck stories in your inbox sign up to receive my emails. Feel free to leave thoughts/comments below.</strong></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-24146647381188061782015-03-17T22:52:00.001-07:002018-06-03T16:33:21.587-07:00The Forgotten Rescue: The Suevic<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 22pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: black;"><strong>The Forgotten Rescue</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.39px;">by Roger Weston</span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9m8fgd0qOdE7bwbAuweVJbsBft-kLGxQ_AYzDlTHAMpzsy6TZQITxNVO4x1qbfHK0fgJit4hia4CYMjxOkagdOoI9n-9eI5ILQpshHArfgD0cu-hL_P-tUQYUu8XoIQCa10t2XxlAqs/s1600/suevic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9m8fgd0qOdE7bwbAuweVJbsBft-kLGxQ_AYzDlTHAMpzsy6TZQITxNVO4x1qbfHK0fgJit4hia4CYMjxOkagdOoI9n-9eI5ILQpshHArfgD0cu-hL_P-tUQYUu8XoIQCa10t2XxlAqs/s320/suevic.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In March of 1907, a ferocious storm raked the gloomy
waters off the Cornish coast. Thick fog buried the Lizard peninsula. This
treacherous outcrop was the home of many small fishing communities. On this night in the Ides of March, a
fisherman’s wife spotted an ominous red glow in the fog. Word spread quickly in the small
community. Bearded fishermen leapt into
action. It was clear that this red glow was no weather phenomenon. It was the distress flare of a ship. The news could not have been more grim given
that the conditions were brutal, and the chances seemed high that some if not
all of the mysterious ship’s passengers would die if they were not soon
rescued. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The fishermen of the Lizard Peninsula knew the sea
like their own mother, but on this night the sea raged out of control. The men
knew well the power of storms like they knew the frailty of men in peril. They knew the code of the sea demanded their
action. Four crews of men took to the
oars of four rescue boats and set out to sea in fog so dense they could see
nothing at all. In these eerie conditions, they rode the wild horse of the
sea’s towering waves. Huge waves thrust
them high in the fog and they could see nothing but the distant red glow. They
rose and fell, rose and fell. The men
fought with all their might against a powerful south-westerly gale. The rowers
pulled with all their might and even then could barely make progress against
the adversity of the storm and sea. They were determined, however. Their will
was fixed to match that of the sea. So
thick was the fog soup that they </span><span style="line-height: 18.39px;">couldn't</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> see the stricken ship until the rescue boat bumped into her wave-swept hull. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As the waves swept by the ship, which was run
aground on a reef, the rescue boats were lifted high up toward her rails where
524 terrified passengers prayed for their lives. The complement included 85
children. When the rescue boats rose on
the crests, men and women dropped their children overboard into the lifeboats.
Two of the ship’s own lifeboats had already been launched and were headed for
certain doom because they did not know how to pass through the reef. The timely
arrival of the local fisherman played a crucial role in their salvation.
Another minute and they’d have been lost in the fog, lost to the hungry sea
whose appetite is never satisfied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All night long the men of the local fishing villages
risked their lives, running out to the ship and rescuing loads of passengers. Sixty local fishermen took turns at the oars.
Every passenger was ferried safely to shore where the wives of the fishermen
had lit bonfires to guide their men home and keep the survivors warm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">These selfless local heroes worked all through the
night, fighting a Herculean battle against the weather, making run after run
out to the ship. These brave men, guided by the red glow on the waters and the orange glow of fires ashore, these men who knew the ways of survival at
sea—they saved everyone on board, brought them all to safety. These men of the Lizard Peninsula were true
heroes, and it is only fitting that their heroic deed should be
remembered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The ship was the <i>Suevic</i>,
a 550-foot leviathan, her bow run aground on a reef. She survived the night as it turned out, but
after the storm settled, neither her crew nor salvagers could get her to
budge. There was no way to refloat her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Almost no way.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">There is always a way, and salvagers put forth a
highly-risky plan to her owners, the famous White Star Line. What the salvagers proposed was to carefully
place numerous explosive charges of dynamite up and down the sides of her
bows. They would detonate all the
explosives and sever the grounded bow from the rest of the ship. The rear 400 feet was not damaged, so the
majority of the ship would be floated back to harbor, her compartments sealed
off so that sea water would not flood her holds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The explosives were detonated as planned, weakening
the steel that connected the bow with the rest of the ship. That weakness gave
way as the ship lifted and lowered on the watery swells. The ship—minus her bow, was sailed back to </span><span style="line-height: 18.39px;">Southampton</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> under her own power. She
was towed by salvage ships, but their role was mostly to guide the ship, since
her engines and propellers were in good shape and provided the power for the
voyage. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Back in port, her owners had a new bow built and attached
to the ship. She was then in great shape to continue her career on the high
seas. In fact, she went on to sail for more than three decades, but was finally
sunk by her crew to avoid her falling into the hands of the Nazis. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One final fact regarding this amazing tale should be
mentioned. Two years after the wreck of
the <i>Suevic</i>, her owners, the White
Star Line, began work on another ship which was destined for a much more tragic
shipwreck. That ship was the <i>RMS Titanic</i>. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<strong style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.39px; text-align: justify;">If you enjoyed this story please share it by using one of the links below. To receive shipwreck stories in your inbox sign up to receive my emails. Feel free to comment below.</strong></div>
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<em><br /></em></div>
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>. <em>You can find all of his books at: </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;"> </span></div>
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Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-9261144631816297142015-03-03T22:56:00.001-08:002015-05-25T11:29:15.191-07:00Two Ships in a Death Grip: The Story of the USS GRUNION<br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>An Aleutian
Showdown</b></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />It’s July 29, 1942. Fitted with big deck guns for
protection against enemy ships, the Japanese cargo ship KANO MARU arrives at
Holtz Bay, Attu Island, Alaska, a remote and foggy Aleutian island that the Japanese have
occupied in order to divert US naval resources away from Midway and thereby
divide the US Navy. The occupation marks the first time in history that US soil
has been occupied by a hostile foreign power. The KANO MARO’s mission is to
bring supplies to Japanese troops on both Attu and Kiska Island, both of which
are occupied by troops who have dug extensive tunnels and trenches to defend
their positions. The captain and crew of
the KANO MARO have no idea that this routine re-supply mission will turn out to be anything but routine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQOL9igwzE8oIzXT6mPZZ8kBA8WNNV0KKEYtjDMaXG1M3S7NIgtwBRJ6gxzs99lG9lMdXKg3_dEBD7KPkqgSpz2A7mHBJ704FCqHPU2Y6ScSXXdAWPNazI4CEU9xJspUMFO1_mUBFNO0/s1600/Kano+Maru.jpg6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQOL9igwzE8oIzXT6mPZZ8kBA8WNNV0KKEYtjDMaXG1M3S7NIgtwBRJ6gxzs99lG9lMdXKg3_dEBD7KPkqgSpz2A7mHBJ704FCqHPU2Y6ScSXXdAWPNazI4CEU9xJspUMFO1_mUBFNO0/s1600/Kano+Maru.jpg6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The KANO MARU takes on cargo and leaves for Kiska
Island, escorted by a sub chaser CH-26.
Later that day, contact with the sub chaser is lost in a thick fog of
the Bering Sea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">July 30, 1942.
The KANO MARU approaches Kiska Island, but the heavy fog prevents her from
entering Kiska Harbor. She drifts far
off shore. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As the fog begins to thin out<i>, </i>KANO MARU heads toward Kiska Harbor at 15 knots. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Meanwhile, the American submarine USS GRUNION is on
her first war patrol. When she reports anti-submarine activity, she is ordered <span style="background: white; mso-shading-themecolor: background1;"></span>back
to Dutch Harbor.<span style="background: rgb(241, 241, 241);"> </span><b><s><span style="font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><o:p></o:p></span></s></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Then the USS GRUNION surprises the KANO MARU, launching a
torpedo that hits the machinery room of the Japanese cargo ship. Two Japanese
sailors are killed. The starboard machinery room floods, and the diesel engine
shuts down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The KANO MARU remains afloat although she now lacks
engine power. When the Japanese crew
spots a periscope, they open fire with their big 40-calibre 3-inch guns. No hits scored.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On the USS GRUNION, LtCdr Mannert L. Abele fires another
torpedo, but Mark-14 torpedoes are unreliable. This one passes beneath the KANO
MARU. The GRUNION fires two more, scoring two hits, but both torpedoes fail to
explode. It is a devastating moment for Abele and his crew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Faced with the prospect of failure, Abele takes bold
and courageous action. He orders the GRUNION to</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> surface, where the crew
attempts to sink the disabled KANO MARU with gunfire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The KANO MARU also has her guns, however. She opens
fire on the GRUNION. One shot hits the GRUNION’s conning tower. The GRUNION dives. Abele’s crew loses depth control. GRUNION
plunges into the deep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She exceeds crush depth and implodes in the freezing
Bering Sea waters. Sudden death claims every crew member.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Later, sub-chaser CH-26 ISHIZAKI and cable-layer ship UKISHIMA arrive on scene. The crewmen spot debris from the doomed USS GRUNION floating on the surface. A crew from ISHIZAKI boards the KANO MARU to assist with repairs.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A Japanese transport ship attempts to tow the KANO
MARU back to the <i>relative</i> safety of
Kiska Harbor, but the towing cable breaks. The KANO MARU drifts all night in
the dark and stormy Bering Sea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The next day KANO MARU is towed to Kiska Harbor
where her cargo is offloaded. <o:p></o:p> The US aerial
bombardment of Kiska Island continues. The day of her arrival, two bombs
explode near the wounded ship. She
sustains hull damage from a near miss on her port side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">An Aleutian storm drives the KANO MARU against the
coast. More than a mile SW of Kiska Harbor, she runs aground at the base of an
eighty foot cliff. She is deemed beyond
repair and abandoned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Back at
the Dutch Harbor US Naval Operating Base, the fate of the USS GRUNION is unknown. She has simply
disappeared in the vast gray waters around the Aleutian Islands, a chain that
stretches a thousand miles from the Alaskan peninsula toward Russia’s Kamchatka.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In 2006, after
more than six decades at the bottom of the Bering Sea, the USS GRUNION is found. She is located north of Kiska Island at a depth of more than 2000 feet.
The fishing vessel AQUILA, which is towing a sidescan sonar to search for the GRUNION finds her. The search is led by the two sons of the
GRUNION’s Commander Mannert Abele.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">For
more information on the GRUNION, visit </span><a href="http://www.ussgrunion.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">http://www.ussgrunion.com/</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The shipwreck of the KANO MARU remains on Kiska
Island, Alaska.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Today, there are many shipwrecks on Kiska Island, which is one of the most remote islands in the world. It is also an official National Historic site, although few people visit. The island has one of the most hostile environments in the world due to frequent Aleutian storms. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><strong>If you enjoyed this story please share it by using one of the links below. To receive more shipwreck stories in your inbox sign up to receive my emails. Thank you in advance for your support!</strong> </o:p></span></div>
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<strong>Side note:</strong> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After learning about Kiska's unique war time history and discovering that to this day she preserves this <a href="http://rogerweston.blogspot.com/2012/05/discover-what-happened-on-forgotten.html" target="_blank">forgotten WWII battlefield</a>, I decided to set my novel <a href="https://www.blogger.com/After%20learning%20about%20Kiska%20Island’s%20unique%20wartime%20history,%20I%20was%20inspired%20to%20use%20it%20as%20the%20setting%20of%20my%20novel,%20THE%20GOLDEN%20CATCH.%20The%20story%20centers%20around%20a%20Japanese%20shipwreck%20and%20it’s%20mysterious%20cargo.%20PURCHASE%20HERE:%20http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY">The Golden Catch</a> on Kiska Island. </span>This action-packed thriller centers around a Japanese shipwreck and it’s mysterious cargo. </div>
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<strong>You can purchase it here</strong>: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY">THE GOLDEN CATCH</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><strong>Download to your mobile device:</strong> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Golden-Catch-Thriller-Roger-Weston-ebook/dp/B004YTI1UY/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1425452871&sr=1-6&keywords=roger+weston" target="_blank">THE GOLDEN CATCH</a></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY" target="_blank"><img alt="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004YTI1UY" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxgl6qLqfi9qd0-6T7xaFq_UnJcIRwy4RRzb3WV-VD-4_zxOCt3IzRt5TAmq5t3gpRrukKocQ3UgNdYPB8YKKWJqFZhAP-ZsxmOJRmD4zFqgVJt0aT-wnWFtavsYHR4iABIWziyyIPC8/s1600/Golden+Catch+(1).jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
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<em>Roger Weston writes action-packed thrillers with a maritime twist</em>. </div>
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<em>You can find all of his books here: </em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roger-Weston/e/B0056OBA0O/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1"><em>Roger Weston's Amazon Author Page</em></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18019314109713598043noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2906819407584576558.post-14744710940171173072014-12-28T12:52:00.000-08:002015-04-04T11:09:53.612-07:00The Recruiter joins The Assassin's Wife at Audible.com<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">THE RECRUITER</span></strong></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;">"Excellent novel. It is a real thriller, full of suspense and romance."</span> </em></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLlbs7rDJz4gZbifuWhl9THhtiaeKy2pNJGr6_uj6Qd5jW7a9oSvEW-ch5rembUlNyBpL1Bd8YSnXUVa0d1JXEn83xstX255HXts8UcXPKpDdkLOCwQoNN_ovdWkywOsVDglRcpQtD7iwg/s1600/The+Recruiter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLlbs7rDJz4gZbifuWhl9THhtiaeKy2pNJGr6_uj6Qd5jW7a9oSvEW-ch5rembUlNyBpL1Bd8YSnXUVa0d1JXEn83xstX255HXts8UcXPKpDdkLOCwQoNN_ovdWkywOsVDglRcpQtD7iwg/s1600/The+Recruiter.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><em>"I recently read that to have a successful thriller book you need to show your characters failings and continually ratchet up the misery while keeping the action increasing. Mr. Weston does that in spades with this book."</em> The Indie Evangelist</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now available on audio at:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Audible.com</span> <br />
<a href="http://www.audible.com/pd/Mysteries-Thrillers/The-Recruiter-Audiobook/B00R1WCWOW/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1419799196&sr=1-1">http://www.audible.com/pd/Mysteries-Thrillers/The-Recruiter-Audiobook/B00R1WCWOW/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1419799196&sr=1-1</a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">itunes</span><br />
<a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/audiobook/recruiter-chuck-brandt-thriller/id952827641">https://itunes.apple.com/us/audiobook/recruiter-chuck-brandt-thriller/id952827641</a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Amazon</span><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00R506RNW">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00R506RNW</a><br />
<span style="vertical-align: middle;"></span><br />Roger Westonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254332442112884475noreply@blogger.com1