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In the Weeds

In the Weeds

This is why I still have film in the freezer from the 1980 Lake Placid Olympic Winter Games.

I am doing a full-ship cutaway drawing of the Civil War ironclad USS Fords Cairo.

The first ironclad gunboat built in the United States was can you buy disulfiram over the counter Saint Louis, ca. 1862. She was a sister ship of Cairo.

The riverine gunboat had a life of just two and a half months with the US Navy from 1 October to 12 December 1862. She had, however, been commissioned into the US Army on 25 January 1862 until her transfer to the Navy that fall. Cairo had the ignominy of being the first warship ever sunk by a remotely detonated mine (called a torpedo in Civil War parlance).

Her salvage from the bottom of the Yazoo River began in 1960 and her remains are on display at the USS Cairo Museum outside Vicksburg, Mississippi. [https://www.nps.gov/vick/u-s-s-cairo-gunboat.htm]

The illustration is being done for a book by Dwight S. Hughes on the Western Waters gunboats. Previously we worked together on a book about the Monitor and Virginia: Unlike Anything That Ever Floated: The Monitor and Virginia and the Battle of Hampton Roads, March 8–9, 1862. [https://www.amazon.com/Unlike-Anything-That-Ever-Floated/dp/1611215250]

Work has progressed well. Here are several iterations of the hull structure.

The other internals are coming along as well: the engines, boilers, wheel, and “doctor” engine. Guns and their carriages have been built.

In going over the drawings looking for missing details, I found the stove which has little depiction other than a box. Other drawings revealed nothing more. What did this thing look like?

I started poking around on the web looking for the “Cairo stove.” Quickly I hit on a site for South Bend Replicas in Indiana [https://southbendreplicas.com]. I pinged the owner, Jim Olson, who very quickly responded to my request for help. His company had built a replica of the stove working from the original and very badly disfigured remains.

Ideally, of course, it would have been nice to work from Jim’s drawings. Sadly, however, they had been lost in a 100-year flood a few years back. He did everything he could to help be especially by sharing a number of photographs from which to work. One set had the remains marked up in measurements, which was a God-send. While my finished stove may not be 100 percent accurate, it is more than just a ballpark guess.

The remains of the original stove with its measured markings.

An interesting point about the original stove is that it was named the “Southern Belle No. 5.” Kind of enigmatic for a Union ship.

Jim Olson with his completed reproduction.
The stove overall and another reproduction in full use.
An interesting design aspect is that the wood fuel and grate are on the right. You see the firebox door at the top (with the Southern Belle name plate) and at the bottom is the ash drawer. Notice the rivet pattern at the top of the oven. The oven’s top was curved a few inches below the top plate. The heat rises from the grate, arches over the top of the oven, goes down the left side (in these views), and across the bottom. It exits at the bottom back and goes up the chimney. Jim said that when it was in full operation, they could pull off one of the top deck plates (there are four, each with their own pot plates), and the draft was so strong that nothing escaped above the stove. Pretty amazing.
This is the firebox door above the stove’s medallion.
Two looks at my version of the original.
All five views of the illustration.

Jim is generous beyond words. He spent far too much time on my little project and provided a wealth of information and answered everyone of my inane questions as if they were intelligent. Beyond this, he sent me a six-pound copy of the stove’s medallion, which he had cast for his reproductions. This was made from the stove’s original, so I have a Kevin Bacon one degree of separation!

My medallion . . .

. . . and the illustration’s version.

Tale of a Sad Photograph

Tale of a Sad Photograph

Nitrate photographic negatives were among the first on a light-weight “stable” flexible base. Before them were the heavy and fragile glass plates. Needless to say, the new base greatly enhanced the photographer’s abilities by significantly reducing weight and volume as well as shipping and carriage requirements.

If you grew up with film before digital you may recall seeing the edges of film marked as “Safety Film.” This is because those films were no longer on nitrate bases, but were first on cellulose acetate (“acetate” film) and later, polyester.

The first flexible film base, cellulose nitrate (hence “nitrate” negatives) was commercially produced in 1888 by George Eastman in his Kodak camera. This unleashed a whole new world of photography for amateurs and professionals alike. It brought the camera into the home.

While this was a great technological leap forward for photography, it had some dangerous baggage. Another name for cellulose nitrate (or nitrocellulose) is gun cotton for a very good reason—it was a very powerful explosive. It first saw use as gun powder for artillery where its power of gas generation was six times that of black powder. It was later used in explosive warheads of shells and torpedoes and for blasting in mining and construction.

It saw other uses as well, some not as successful. As the supplies of ivory began drying up in 1869, the billiards industry offered a prize to whomever came up with the best replacement for ivory billiard balls. John Wesley Hyatt won with a new material he invented called camphored nitrocellulose. It was briefly popular, but the balls were extremely flammable, and sometimes exploded upon impact, which added an interesting dimension to a game of pool.

Hyatt Celluloid Billiard Ball
Smithsonian Institution/Gift of Celanese Plastic Company

In use with film, however, it was extremely dangerous, especially when used in movies. The film base was, and is, highly flammable, and it releases hazardous gases as it deteriorates. In movie theaters, when subjected to the high heat of arc light, the film would often burst into flame, which accounts for the large number of early movie theater fires.

Any photographic collection that contains flexible, transparent film negatives from the 1890 to 1950 period very likely contains at least some nitrate film. These negatives need special attention and should immediately be separated from other film.

Acetate negatives also have issues, but not as dangerous to human health as it is to image health. The chemical composition also breaks down with the image first crackling and bubbling, and then shrinking the film support. When acetate film is stored in a poor environment of high heat and humidity—or exposed to acidic vapors from other degrading film—it undergoes chemical reactions within the plastic support to form acetic acid. This acid causes the support to become acidic, brittle, buckle, and shrink. In turn, the acid spreads into the gelatin emulsion or into the air creating a harsh, acidic odor.

Thus if stored with stable polyester-based film, degrading nitrate and acetate negatives can and will impact its longevity as well. The types need to be well separated.

I have been a professional photojournalist for most of 50 years. Sadly, during my work with the U.S. Navy at the Naval History and Heritage Command I encountered some instances of nitrate and acetate film within their historic collections.

This is one such instance.

The photograph below was taken of an Aeromarine 39B during tests of using the airplane’s carrier deck landing skids as skis on light snow. It may be a unique image; I have found no similar photograph of an Aeromarine 39B using skids on snow. There is no date, but this type first entered Navy service in 1918 and was removed from its rolls in 1926. This print is contemporary with the original negative, thus it dates to the 1920s.

Below are scans of the original negative and, beneath it, a direct print.

It is obvious that this negative will never be printed again. It is quite likely that the print at the top is the only original one left of the negative. As it shows a fairly unique view from a tiny chunk of naval aviation history, it must be preserved—but not in the same folder as its negative!

This is a detail of the negative to better show its bubbling and cracking. I have highlighted a light portion of the film’s edge which gets narrower at the right. This is the “shadow” (it is light because it is a negative) of the grip on the film holder that held this side of the negative in place in the holder. There is another shadow on the other side of the film.

It is distressing to note that there are other instances of nitrate and acetate films within the collection. The nitrate negatives especially represent a very clear and present danger to not only the collection but the buildings and personnel around them.

Our photographic heritage is precious. Every instant of history that was recorded on film is on a piece of acetate, nitrate, or polyester that was present for that history, in the hands of a photographer who was witness to that history. Those slivers of film are the closest physical pieces we have of that history.

Our photographic heritage must be preserved!

You Are NOT Forgotten !

You Are NOT Forgotten !

Nineteen years ago I wrote the piece below. The Associated Press picked it up and it was published around the country. I had hoped that it would encourage others to—either on their own birthday or Veteran’s Day—do a brief search of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial site. Even if they didn’t personally participate, or are or were related to someone who went, or are even too young to know what the war was, this is a very simple way to make a very personal connection.

The 19 men I write about below were born on the same day I was. We never knew each other, but we are brothers.

I encourage you. Go to thewall-usa.com. Search your birthdate. Learn something about those who shared something with you. Learn about their sacrifices. You will forever see their faces.

___________________________

12 November 1998

Yesterday was Veterans’ Day. Today is my birthday. I turn 50.

My service tour ended in 1970, and while it was nothing like that experienced by those you are about to cross paths with, I’ve never forgotten those days.

Today, I will be singing Happy Birthday not for myself, but for 19 of my brothers who were born today, 50 years ago, only six of whom made it to the age of maturity.

Their names are carved in black granite for, I hope, ever.

I would greatly appreciate it if you would read their names and think something about them. If you are familiar with the part of the country they called home, have a fleeting glimpse of the countryside or town that lost them forever. If nothing else, just read their names.

  • James Edward Widener was the first taken. Like me, he was a James, a New Yorker, an upstater, from Churchville, near Rochester, just 90 miles away from my home in Syracuse. The 18-year-old Marine private first class’s tour ended the same day it began, June 11, 1967, in Quang Tri province when his helicopter crashed.

  • Loyd Eugene Kinsworthy, a 19-year-old Marine corporal from San Jose, Calif., had been in-country only two months. He was killed by a mine in Quang Nam on April 27, 1968. He was the only one of this group who was married.

  • William Roger Campbell was from Butler, Penn. A Marine private first class, he died June 6, 1968 in Quang Tri province. He was seven months into his tour when his unit was ambushed. He was the last to die before I was drafted two weeks later.

  • Jonathon Jeffrey Hawkins of South Bend, Ind., was the first draftee of this group to die. A private first class with the 11th Light Infantry Brigade, he was killed in a firefight in Quang Ngai on Oct. 10, 1968.

The next two, from widely divergent backgrounds, shared a common military history and fate, on the same day, Dec. 4, 1968. Both were single, draftees and Army PFCs. They died less than a month after turning 20.

  • Blair William Two Crow, from Kyle, S.D., a Native American, was serving with the 11th Light infantry Brigade when he died in Quang Ngai.

  • Gary Norman Whipple, of Claremont, N.H., was serving with the 1st Infantry Division when a mine claimed him in Binh Duong. He had left the “world” barely a month earlier.

  • Henry Eugene Maul was born and raised in Worland, Wyo. He died in a firefight in Tay Ninh on Dec. 22, 1968. He was also a draftee private first class serving with the 25th Infantry Division.

  • James Alfred Luckey, a draftee specialist 4th­-class from Ft. Myers, Fla., was serving with the 9th Infantry Division when he was killed in a firefight Jan. 25, 1969, in Dinh Tuong. He had been in-country only four months.

  • Christopher Mitchell was the only black and first regular Army soldier in this group to die. A private first class from Chicago, he was serving with the 9th Infantry Division on Feb. 7, 1969, when he died exactly one month after entering the country. Two weeks later, my service in Korea began.

  • Donald Ray Bartley of Lizton, Ind., was a Marine private first class who died in a Quang Nam firefight on March 19, 1969, exactly two months after joining his unit.
  • Allen Tyler was the only Virginian in this group. From Montvale, he was a draftee corporal with the 1st Cavalry Division. He died in Tay Ninh on May 8, 1969.

  • Eric Daryl Nadeau of Grand Forks, N.D., was the second and last regular Army soldier in the group. The specialist 4th-class was serving with the 101st Airborne Brigade when he was killed in a firefight on May 26, 1969 in Quang Tin.

  • Gary Lee Evans was a draftee Army sergeant serving with the 191st Airborne Brigade as well. The Pebworth, Ky., native was a month away from going home when his helicopter crashed in Quang Nam on Sept. 3, 1969.

  • Thomas Stephen Stafford of Port Huron, Mich., is the only sailor and reservist among the group. The seaman had just seen his 21st birthday the month before when he was killed in Kien Phong on Dec. 21, 1969 by artillery fire.

  • Don Ray Heimark, a draftee Army sergeant from Lomita, Calif., was killed by artillery fire in Thua Thien on April 1, 1970. He was serving with the 101st Airborne Brigade. The week before he died, I was back in the States and released from service.

  • Gerald Wayne Hay of Cincinnati, died in a firefight April 24, 1970 in Phuoc Tuy. He was a draftee private first class serving with the 25th Infantry Division.

  • Peter Francis Nolan was killed in a firefight on May 8, 1970 with barely a month left in his tour. The draftee specialist 5th-class from Springfield, Mass., was serving with the 101st Airborne Brigade in Thua Thien.

  • Mahlon Lewis Kelley was a Marine sergeant from Orlando, Fla. He died in Quang Nam on June 6, 1970 from rocket or grenade fragments.
  • Robert Eugene Tucker was the last to die. He was six days past his 22nd birthday when his helicopter was shot down on Nov. 18, 1970 in Quang Nam. The Abbyville, Kan., native was a Marine Corps lance corporal. Ten days after he died, my wife Cinda and I were married.

Thank you for sharing our birthday with us. I am certain the guys on the Wall thank you as well.

When your birthday comes up, take a minute—just a minute—to think of those on the Wall who could be sharing it with you—or more especially, with their families and friends. You’ll make your birthday a little more special.

Not a birthday goes by that I don’t think of these guys. You are not fogotten. Happy Birthday!

(The Vietnam Veterans Memorial at thewall-usa.com makes it easy for you to find those who were born on your birthday. Take a look. If you’ve never seen their site, it is as about as moving as The Wall itself. Please take a few minutes to share your birthday with those who would be—and should be—celebrating as well.)

 

We Have Not Forgotten

We Have Not Forgotten

Today, Saturday 29 July 2017, is the 50th anniversary of the terrible fire and tremendous heroism that occured in the Gulf of Tonkin aboard the USS Forrestal (CVA-59).

There will be no comments here, with the exception of a few identifying notes. Let the photography aid your thoughts about the crew and airmen aboard ship that day.

Most are from Forrestal‘s cruise book.

A-4Es of VA-106.

 

 

USS Rupertus (DD-851) closes in closely on Forrestal‘s port quarter to aid in fighting the fire.

We Will Not Forget 2

We Will Not Forget 2

These are some of my notes regarding the tragic Forrestal (CVA-59) fire 50 years ago this Saturday, on 29 July 1967.

The fire and aftermath of one of the “high order” explosions was captured by now-retired Rear Admiral Peter B. Booth.

While not the instigators of the fire, the vehicles of so much death and destruction were the Korean War–vintage AN/M65A1 1000-lb. bombs. These were deadly on two accounts.

They had thin-shelled casings, basically thin tubes of steel with rounded nose and truncated conical aft body. As mounted on the A-4 Skyhawks of VA-46 and VA-126, they mounted a “conical fin assembly” for better streamlining, in lieu of the readily recognizable open box fins of World War II.

A crewman provided this image of the M65s on the day of the fire. I apologize for not being able to credit him.

They were quite unlike the “modern” bombs of the time, the very streamlined MK 80 series of the MK 81 250-, MK 82 500-, MK 83 1000-, and MK84 2000-lb bombs, which were thick-walled and covered with a coarse ablative surface. Somewhere in my notes I have comparative “cook off” times between the two types of bombs; i.e. how quickly they would explode if engulfed in a fire. I don’t want to quote numbers without looking at the notes, but I do recall the comparative figures. The MK 80s could survive in a fire more than three times as long as the M65s. This means that firefighters would have at least three times longer to knock down the fire. Further, the majority of MK 80s, which cooked off did so with a “low order” explosion. The M65s all went in “high order.” Basically this was the difference between a big pop and really big explosion.

MK 83 1000-lb general purpose bombs.

The other aspect is the explosives they contained. The AN/M65s, constructed in 1953, were loaded with “Comp B” explosive. Unlike modern explosives, “Comp B” became unstable with age and hot, humid storage conditions. At the least these weapons were 14 years old and had been stored in the open in the hot, humid climate of Okinawa.

A plane handler, William Boote, told me: “I remember to this day the feeling I had as I touched one of the 1000-pound bombs and commented to (co-handlers) that I didn’t ‘like the looks of these bombs, and that something bad was going to happen.’”

There were 80 bombs aboard 15 attack aircraft totalling 24 1/2-tons of high explosives for the 11:00 a.m. mission. Eight tons consisted of 16 old 1,000-pound bombs. The seven which exploded did so in a catastrophic “high order” fashion, as they were designed to do against an enemy. The nine others were listed as missing or jettisoned.

This is my dozen-year old crude attempt to depict the bombs as mounted on the aircraft. I have been unable to find any with decent detail that shows the conical fin assembly. The first drawing is based on Navy technical drawings I obtained. The second is from a very small undetailed photograph. The third shows it in its Korean War form. I would gladly appreciate any information that can help me correct this drawing.

Not as Advertised

Not as Advertised

When is the Battle of Midway NOT the Battle of Midway?

Research is everything. Your output, no matter what the format—words, painting, oratory, conversation, whatever—is wholly dependent upon those nuggets of information it stands on.

Assume you know nothing about the battle, which was remembered just last week on the 75th anniversary. You go to a “primary” web site, such as the Navy’s own Naval History and Heritage Command. (https://www.history.navy.mil/) This is official Navy. It is their history site. On it you will find many original documents and images from throughout the Navy’s nearly 250 year history. It is a great resource. [ed. note: I am employed by NHHC and thus am not an impartial source.]

A search for the site for “Battle of Midway” results in some 963 hits. The fourth entry is this painting by Rodolfo Claudus. Its title, by the artist, is officially “Battle of Midway, 3 June 1942.” And that is where the rub is. Nothing about the battle as depicted by the artist is correct. It is not inaccurate, it is flat wrong.

First, take the title. Most historians—and in particular, the U.S. Navy—deem the battle as spanning from 4 to 7 June 1942. On 3 June, a PBY patrol plane spotted the occupation force, not the main force including the carriers as reported. Nine Army Air Force B-17s launched from Midway to attack the fleet. After three hours of flight they found the transports some 660 miles from their base. Battling through heavy antiaircraft fire, they dropped their bombs and claimed four hits. In fact, they inflicted no damage. This attack, solely by the Army, on the transport force was the only combat on 3 June.

This segues into the content of the painting. There are four elements and one action.

The actions shows a carrier in combat. Nothing like this occurred on 3 June.

The primary element is an aircraft carrier. The artist has done a credible likeness of an Essex (CV-9)-class carrier, in particular the long-hull variant. Now the “howevers” begin . . .

The first and name-ship of the Essex class was not commissioned until December 1942, so obviously, none of the class fought at Midway. The artist does mark the ship with the number 10 on the funnel, indicating CV-10, USS Yorktown. That would be appropriate . . . if . . . that was the right Yorktown. The Yorktown at Midway was CV-5, which was badly damaged on 4 June and sunk on 6 June. Another relatively minor point, but a factual error nevertheless,  CV-10 was a short-hull Essex, not long-hull.

The next most prominent element is the Japanese aircraft. There is little to quibble here except, of course, that none were shot down on 3 June.

The third element, to the left, is a destroyer. The artist has depicted either an Allen M. Sumner (DD-692)- or Gearing (DD-710)-class ship. In either case, the very first of these ships was not laid down until July 1943. They didn’t exist at the time of the battle.

The final element is a battleship to the right shrouded in mist or haze. Unlike the other two ships, this is a bit less specific, however, its length, shape of the bow, and closely spaced, tall thin stacks favor the North Carolina (BB-55) class over the Iowa (BB-61). It is definitely not meant to be a single-stack South Dakota (BB-57) or any of the pre-war battleships. Once again, in any case, this element is moot. No U.S. battleships were anywhere near Midway and none participated in the battle.

So, what you have here is a painting that in every element has no relation (except perhaps ships at sea, in combat, with aircraft) to its title.

Sadly, it must be filed under its official title, hence, misleading the unknowing.

Everything hinges on the caption, and the one provided is of no help. It gives the painting as c.1950, yet in the artist’s hand it is labelled 1956.

Bottom line—question everything. Even these comments.

 

 

 

This Delivers

This Delivers

World’s Fastest Single-Engine Jet Aircraft: The Story of Convair’s F-106 Delta Dart Interceptor

By Doug Barbier

Specialty Press, 2017. 228 pages. $44.95.

I like this book not least because I like the aircraft, but mostly because of the Delta Dart’s relative invisibility among comprehensive aircraft histories and this fills that gap. Certainly there are the Squadron Signal monographs, but they only barely scratch the surface of this incredibly complex aircraft and the air defense system of which it was a part.

The author does a credible job at exposing and explaining the complexities. It was very good to see Mike Machat listed as the book’s editor. That alone adds an imprimatur of accuracy and authenticity. Bravo to Specialty Press for that hire!

The book is typical of Special Press’s 10-inchers; their square-format, approximately 200-page, glossy white paper aero books. “Typical” is not condescending; here, it means quality and expectation—many high quality, often large, well-reproduced photographs, and crisp, clean reproduction with graphics that ease the reader through the text.

World’s Fastest delivers.

It is because of the F-106’s complexity that the book has 23 (!) chapters to better organize and aid reader absorption of all the information. The narrative traces the delta speedster from its origins in the F-102B, its MA-1 electronic “heart,” weapons, design studies and proposed variants, issues with service integration, deployments, the addition of a gun, squadrons and markings, NASA service, and much more. There are also six appendices, which provide the detail facts and figures of contracts, model numbers and differences, and more.

I don’t want to call it the complete book, but it is as close as I can imagine. I do, however, have a quibble, and from where I sit as both a reader and editor, it is not insignificant.

The title sucks. Fourteen words is entirely too long. The main title is very misleading. Its wording led me to believe that this was a book about all fast single-engine jet aircraft. If it was titled The World’s . . ., I would have immediately known it was the Delta Dart. As I noted in a previous review, it is my sense that marketing stepped all over this, and again, to the book’s detriment. I am not intending to re-title it, but I would more likely pick up something that read like Slashing Dart: The F-106 Story or its ilk than as titled.

A title should intrigue not be the whole story.

This book is worthy of your time and money.

Reviewed May 2017

 

Judge a Book by its Cover?

Judge a Book by its Cover?

Five Days in August: How World War II Became a Nuclear War

by Michael D. Gordin

Princeton University Press

2007

 

 

I don’t know what is in this book, I haven’t gotten past the cover.

While the Bell VB-13 (later ASM-A-1) Tarzon bomb looks impressive, it never was a nuclear weapon nor was it intended to be one.

If the publishers didn’t attend to this most obvious of the book’s details, how did they address its lesser known points, which after all, are why readers would buy this book?

 

Reviewed April 2007.

Baby Steps

Baby Steps

This is going to start off slow. I am creating this site from the basis of zero knowledge. So bear with me for a while at least.

My goal is primarily to share book reviews. You will not find Saroyan, Kant, Hemingway, or Shakespeare here. The topics will consist primarily of human-built devices for moving man from Point A to Point B. Thus most will be aviation related, with automotive, railroad, and nautical themes tossed in. My day job concerns naval history, so you will see a bit of commentary on that. I also do illustrations, so I plan on sharing projects in the works. As my focus is historical, I expect these diversions to show you the warts of the process and the failings of the projects.

I have been a photojournalist for most of 40 years, so expect some commentary along those lines. Formula One has been a passion since 1964. I covered more red-neck road races than I care to count. I have a lot of interests and generally hands-on experience with them in one manner or another. Not that that counts as gospel, but it’s more than reading it off someone’s FB page.

I’m hoping that if this reaches those with similar passions, that when I get stuck with a project I can pick your brains.

Let’s see where this takes us…

 

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