Editors - Ray & Susie Butters - USS Haddo.com

Volume 2 Issue 40 April 2010
Editors - Ray & Susie Butters E-Mail – raydbf@blackhawkranch.org
2011 HADDO REUNION
Susie and I, and every one of you that missed the 2009
reunion in St. Louis, have gotten a reprieve. The
Reunion Committee has decided for our 2011 reunion
to give us a repeat of the overwhelmingly successful
2009 reunion in St. Louis. More people than ever
before, called, e-mailed, or wrote to the committee
letting them know how much they enjoyed the reunion.
So, from the 22 nd to the 25 th of September in 2011, all of
us that missed St. Louis and the Crowne Plaza will get a
second chance.
When we combine all of the 2009 attendees that said
they would like to go back, with all of us that wanted to
attend in 2009, but couldn‟t, plus all of those dedicated
Haddo guys and gals that just make every reunion, we
should have one heck of a turn out.
We‟re a little too far out for the committee to have any
specifics for you, but the dates and the hotel are locked
in. And, the Crowne Plaza has already agreed to give
us the 2009 room rate; $79 per night. So, get out your
PDAs, IPods, Wheel Books, or whatever you use as
extended memory, and plug in the dates. If you‟re a
little behind the technological curve, like me, or you‟re
environmentally conscious, I will include these and
more details in the next newsletter. We may even have
a registration form by my November issue.
If you attended the 2009 reunion, and have any
suggestions on how to improve the 2011 reunion (or if
anyone has any good ideas that would enhance the
reunion), contact one of the committee members at:
Malo Berry mberrynj@yahoo.com 80‟s
Ken Brenner kwsg0913@bellsouth.net 70‟s
Dick Hillman rhillmansr@comcast.net 70‟s
Dick Noble rmnoble@hughes.net 60‟s
Ralph Stroede rstroede@hughes.net 60‟s
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The Crowne Plaza went all out to give us a great
reunion environment in 2009 and I am sure that they
will do it again. Ralph and Trudy Stroede were the
perfect hosts for that reunion, and they will be our hosts
for the next one. Ralph and Dick Noble will be lining
up more sponsors to contribute products and services
for snacks, drinks, door prizes, and raffles. They did
great in 2009, but just think of how good they will do
now that they have practice. Ken Brenner and Dick
Hillman will be taking care of all the registration stuff
so that when you check in your registration package
will contain everything you‟ll need to know or have to
make your stay memorable. I sure am glad we‟ve got
these guys!
If you need more than just a reunion to entice you to
travel, St. Louis is a delight to visit. They have enough
events and sights to keep anyone from being bored. Go
early or stay later and take advantage of the area.
Once again, our call to arms is “See You in St. Louie”
A study showed that the average
American walks about 900 miles a year.
Another study found that Americans
drink, on average, 22 gallons of
alcohol a year.
That means, on average, Americans get
about 41 miles to the gallon. – Kind
of makes you proud to be an American.
FROM THE CREW
Death of a Real Action Hero
from Ralph Stroede
Sometimes, obituaries can be fascinating as you read
about the real-life exploits of ordinary people you've
never heard of but who had done such marvelous

things. So I was struck by a headline of Knut
Haugland, a Norwegian man who just died at the age of
91, but who had helped lead the commando raid during
World War II to destroy the Nazi endeavors to make the
heavy water necessary for developing atomic weapons
as well as being the last survivor from the voyage of the
Kon- Tiki.
The obituary reads like the script for an adventure
movie, but it was real life. After one failed attempt to
attack the water plant, he hid out for months in the
Norwegian winter waiting for the opportunity to launch
another attack. As a result the Germans were alerted to
Allied interest in heavy water production, but Haugland
was ordered to wait on Hardangervidda, where his team
subsisted on moss and lichen and, just in time for
Christmas, a wandering reindeer. In sub-zero
temperatures he kept in contact with the British using a
radio to which he improvised spares using a stolen
fishing rod and an old car battery. Every night at 1am
he would make contact, often unable to control the
chattering of his teeth, using the password "three pink
elephants".
It was February 1943 before Operation Gunnerside
(named after a grouse moor owned by Sir Charles
Hambro, head of SOE) was mounted. Six Norwegian
commandos were dropped by parachute, and after a few
days' search, met up with Haugland for a new assault on
the hydroelectric plant. The heavily defended plant was
now surrounded by mines and floodlights and
accessible only across a single-span bridge over a deep
ravine. The Norwegians climbed down the ravine,
waded an icy river and climbed a steep hill where they
followed a narrow-gauge railway and entered the plant
by a cable tunnel and through a window. In the ensuing
sabotage hundreds of kilograms of heavy water was
destroyed. Though 3,000 German soldiers searched for
the saboteurs, all escaped. The Nazi heavy water
project never recovered.
He stayed on in Quisling-controlled Norway helping to
lead guerrilla efforts against the Nazis. One of those
attacks reads like the script for a movie that would have
starred Sylvester Stallone or John Wayne, but was
instead the real-life courage of Knut Haugland.
In November 1943 he was arrested, only to escape, and
his luck and courage held firm again the following year,
when, on April 1, one of his transmitters, hidden inside
a chimney at the Oslo Maternity Hospital, was located
by direction-finding techniques. "The whole building
was surrounded by German soldiers with machine-gun
posts in front of every single door," Heyerdahl wrote
later. "The head of the Gestapo was standing in the
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courtyard waiting for Knut to be carried down. "Knut
fought his way with his pistol down from the attic to the
cellar, and from there out into the back yard, where he
disappeared over the hospital wall with a hail of bullets
after him." On the run, Haugland managed again to
escape to Britain and did not return until war's end.
After the war, searching for adventure, he formed part
of the crew of the Kon-Tiki, Thor Heyerdahl's attempt to
prove that natives from Peru had been able to sail on a
raft to the South Seas islands. He displayed heroic
courage on that famous adventure. In addition to out
swimming a shark, he risked his own life to save a
crewmate.
The second incident occurred later, when Haugland
averted the disaster that haunted all the Kon-Tiki's men.
That was to fall in and find that currents prevented a
return to the raft, which – obviously unpowered –
would simply drift slowly out of view, condemning the
man overboard to his fate. When crewman Herman
Watzinger did fall in, all rescue efforts appeared
doomed until Haugland leapt into the water bearing a
lifebelt attached to a long rope. The two men then
swam towards each other and were hauled on board by
the others. "We had a lot of nice things to say to Knut
that day, Herman and the rest of us too," wrote
Heyerdahl.
I'd never known of this man's personal courage until
today although I knew of the destruction of the watertreatment
plant and the Kon-Tiki's voyage. It's time for
all the world to pause to have "a lot of nice things to
say" about Knut Haugland and the man who, like those
who fought on Iwo Jima, demonstrated that uncommon
valor was a common virtue in his own.
I Remember
from Bob Fehre
Here's to us, one and all,
who heard the message and answered the call.
To break away from the old mainstream,
and live our lives on a submarine.
Sub School gave us the chance to pass the test,
to declare that we were The Best of the Best.
When we left New London with orders in hand,
we all headed out on different courses for distant and
faraway lands.
Some went East coast some went West,
but no matter where you ended up, your first boat's
the best.
You reported on board not knowing what to think,
and then you're known to all as a nub and a dink.

You learn about Tradition and learn about Pride,
you learn about Honor and the men who have died.
You learn about the heritage that's been passed to you,
because now you're considered one of the crew.
You study that boat inside and out, from bow to stern,
from conning tower to bilge, it's your duty to learn.
Where and what makes that boat go,
how it operates and in what direction it flows.
How to charge those batteries and keep them alive,
or how to rig the boat for dive.
Draw those systems fore and aft,
blow the shitters, check the draft.
These are duties that you must glean,
when you live your life on a submarine.
When you've learned all there‟s to know about your
boat,
you show 'em you know it, by your walk-through
vote.
You go before the Qual Board, card in hand,
where they question and grill you to beat the band
And when you think you can take no more,
they tell you to wait just outside the door.
For what seems like eons, Time stands still,
and when they call you in, you feel quite ill!
But they congratulate you for doing so good,
and welcome you into their Brotherhood.
Right of passage declares that you drink your "fish".
and the „tacking on‟ is not something you wish.
But you wear those dolphins on your chest with pride,
because in your heart, you know you're Qualified.
It seems like yesterday, it seems like a dream,
that I truly lived on a submarine.
Most Boats are gone, a memory of time,
I wonder what happened to that crew of mine?
The Old Boats that are left, are all museums,
and now you have to pay admission just to see 'em.
So here's to us, those that remember,
who rode the boats out in all kinds of weather.
To those past, present and even the future,
to those young, hardy lads who still love adventure.
So let's lift our glasses and have a toast,
to the memory of those daring young sailors and their
undersea boats.
Submarine Chiefs
from Mike Medina via Geoff Warnock
One thing we weren't aware of at the time but became
evident as life wore on, was that we learned true
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leadership from the finest examples any lad was ever
given – Boat qualified CPOs.
They were crusty bastards who had done it all and had
been forged into men who had been time tested over
more years than a lot of us had time on the planet. The
ones I remember wore hydraulic oil stained hats with
scratched and dinged-up insignia, faded shirts, some
with a Bull Durham tag dangling out of their right-hand
pocket or a pipe and tobacco reloads in a worn leather
pouch in their hip pockets, and a Zippo that had been
everywhere.
Some of them came with tattoos on their forearms that
would force them to keep their cuffs buttoned at a
Methodist picnic. Most of them were as tough as a
boarding house steak. A quality required to survive the
life they lived. They were, and always will be, a breed
apart from all other residents of Mother Earth.
They took eighteen year-old idiots and hammered the
stupid bastards into submarine sailors. You knew
instinctively it had to be hell on earth to have been born
a Chief's kid. God should have given all sons born to
Chiefs a return option.
A Chief didn't have to command respect. He got it
because there was nothing else you could give them.
They were God's designated hitters on earth. We had
Chiefs with fully loaded Submarine Combat Patrol Pins
in my day. Hardcore bastards, who found nothing out
of place with the use of the word 'Japs' to refer to the
little sons of Nippon they had littered the floor of the
Pacific with, as payback for a little December 7 th tea
party they gave us in 1941. In those days, 'insensitivity'
was not a word in a boatsailor's lexicon. They
remembered lost mates and still cursed the cause of
their loss. And they were expert at choosing descriptive
adjectives and nouns, none of which their mothers
would have endorsed.
At the rare times you saw a Chief topside in dress
canvas, you saw rows of hard-earned worn and faded
ribbons over his pocket. "Hey Chief, what's that one
and that one?" "Oh Hell kid, I can't remember. There
was a war on. They gave them to us to keep track of the
campaigns. We didn't get a lot of news out where we
were. To be honest, we just took their word for it. Hell
son, you couldn't pronounce most of the names of the
places we went. They're all depth charge survival
geedunks. Listen kid, ribbons don't make you a
submariner. We knew who the heroes were and in the
final analysis that's all that matters."
Many nights we sat in the after battery messdeck
wrapping ourselves around cups of coffee and listening

to their stories. They were lighthearted stories about
warm beer shared with their running mates in
corrugated metal sheds at resupply depots, where the
only furniture was a few packing crates and a couple of
Coleman lamps. Standing in line at a Honolulu
cathouse or spending three hours soaking in a tub in
Freemantle, smoking cigars and getting loaded. It was
our history. And we dreamed of being just like them
because they were our heroes.
When they accepted you as their shipmate, it was the
highest honor you would ever receive in your life. At
least it was clearly that for me. They were not men
given to the prerogatives of their position. You would
find them with their sleeves rolled up, shoulder-toshoulder
with you in a stores loading party. "Hey
Chief, no need for you to be out here tossin' crates in
the rain, we can get all this crap aboard". "Son, the
term 'All hands' means all hands". "Yeah Chief, but
you're no damn kid anymore, you old coot". "Horsefly,
when I'm eighty-five parked in the stove up old
bastards' home, I'll still be able to kick your worthless
butt from here to fifty feet past the screw guards along
with six of your closest friends". And he probably
wasn't bullshitting.
They trained us. Not only us, but hundreds more just
like us. If it wasn't for Chief Petty Officers, there
wouldn't be any Submarine Force. There wasn't any
fairy godmother who lived in a hollow tree in the
enchanted forest who could wave her magic wand and
create a Chief Petty Officer. They were born as
hotsacking seamen and matured like good whiskey in
steel hulls over many years. Nothing a nineteen yearold
jaybird could cook up was original to these old
saltwater owls. They had seen E-3 jerks come and go
for so many years, they could read you like a book.
"Son, I know what you are thinking. Just one word of
advice; DON'T. It won't be worth it."
"Aye, Chief."
Chiefs aren't the kind of guys you thank. Monkeys at
the zoo don't spend a lot of time thanking the guy who
makes them do tricks for peanuts. Appreciation of what
they did and who they were, comes with long distance
retrospect. No young lad takes time to recognize the
worth of his leadership. That comes later when you
have experienced poor leadership or lets say, when you
have the maturity to recognize what leaders should be,
you find that submarine Chiefs are the standard by
which you measure all others. They had no Academy
rings to get scratched up. They butchered the King's
English. They had become educated at the other end of
an anchor chain from Copenhagen to Singapore. They
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had given their entire lives to the United States Navy.
In the progression of the nobility of employment, the
submarine CPO heads the list.
So, when we ultimately get our final duty station
assignments and we get to wherever the big CNO in the
sky assigns us. If we are lucky, Marines will be
guarding the streets. I don't know about that Marine
propaganda bullshit, but there will be an old Chief in a
oil-stained hat and a cigar stub clenched in his teeth,
standing at the brow to assign us our bunks and tell us
where to stow our gear. And we will all be young again
and the gahdam coffee will float a rock. Life fixes it so
that by the time a stupid kid grows old enough and
smart enough to recognize who he should have thanked
along the way, he no longer can. If I could, I would
thank my old Chiefs. If you only knew what you
succeeded in pounding in this thick skull, you would be
amazed.
So thanks, you old casehardened unsalvageable
sonuvabitches. Save me a rack in the Alley.
A Haddo Chief
memories by Ray Butters
During my time aboard Haddo, we had some great
Chiefs. We also had a couple not so great and it seems
a lot easier to talk about them than the ones who taught
us things like Leadership, Duty, Responsibility,
Professionalism, and Dedication. Those aren‟t traits
that we just applied to the rest of our navy careers; we
took those qualities into our civilian lives and were
better people for them.
In a previous newsletter, I had already said more words
than I probably should have about one of my Chiefs
(one of the not so greats), so I would like to say a few
words about another one of my Chiefs; one that I
thought was a great chief – Jim Jamison. My only
regret is that I should have done this while he was still
alive. But I want to say thanks anyway – Thanks Jim!
I think one of the greatest lessons that I learned from
Chief Jamison was to be The Man. New Construction
wasn‟t a gravy train; there were some grueling times.
Long hours, hectic work conditions, and just a lot of
pressure in general (and I was a nose-coner). I don‟t
remember how many times Jim piled on more work just
as we thought we were about done, or kept us late when
we were about ready to hit the beach. But each time he
imparted the bad news, it came from him. He never
once said „this just came from the wardroom‟, or „I tried
to get it changed, but they just wouldn‟t listen‟, or „I
fought my ass off for you guys, but this is the way it‟s
gota be‟. I knew, and I think we all knew, that Chief

Jamison fought for us all the time (and probably won
lots of battles that we never even knew about). But,
when he gave the orders, it was as if the order
originated with Jim. He took the heat. He absorbed our
bitch‟n. He was the boss. As he gave the order, his
eyes would be slightly squinted, his lips would be
tightly pursed, and (after you got to know him) you
could sort of tell that this new task went against his
grain.
I made Chief just after I left Haddo and that was a
lesson that became part of my leadership. I never quite
got the slightly squinty eyes or the pursed lips down
though.
The Haddo Challenge
plagiarized from the Haddo Base “Scuttlebutt”
There are three things that you should keep in mind while
reading this story:
1. It is a hell of a lot better story if you were actually there or
if you have a good frame of reference for the life we lead
along with the everyday demands of serving on a submarine.
2. This occurred over 35 years ago and my memory never
was that good.
3. My wonderful blonde wife of 30 years swears that if I were
to walk into a room with more than three other blonde
women, I would never be able to locate her.
Due to a recent promotion, my detailer had informed me that
a transfer was imminent and I could no longer be assigned to
destroyers. But, since he was a nice guy (so he said) I could
have my choice of a carrier, a cruiser or I could volunteer for
submarine duty. Being partial to the comradeship of small
commands and remembering all those ASW exercise where
our Sonarmen had never been able to detect any submarines,
even though we could go on deck and see their beacon
flashing in the not so far distance, I decided that a submarine
was the best choice for me.
In January of 1970, I was flown to Rota and joined a boomer
crew who were near the end of their refit period.
Other than qualifying on my first patrol it was pretty
uneventful. Only one or two of the other chiefs on board
were even talking to the non-qual E7 that had intruded on
them. Much to their relief there wasn’t an open bunk in the
goat locker so I was shuffled off to the lower level Operations
Compartment. Needless to say, at this point I was wondering
if I had made a mistake in volunteering for subs.
Early one morning of the next refit, my next patrol cycle, a
Fast Attack moored to our starboard side. The word was that
she was the USS Haddo and had just come from the Med.
Now this was not too much out of the ordinary and this event
was soon forgotten in the busy activities of the morning, until
around 1100 when there was a knock at the goat locker door
and several unfamiliar chiefs entered our quarters. One
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introduced himself as the COB of the Haddo and asked for
our COB. When our COB arrived the Haddo’s COB
announced, with bravado, that they had come to challenge
our chiefs to a contest of skill and wit. He further stated that
he knew that the Haddo chiefs could prevail in any contest
against lowly boomer chiefs. The challenge went kind of like
this, “meet us at the Rota Chief’s Club at 1800 tonight,
anything you can do we can do better and longer; loser buys
a bottle of whiskey”.
Of course due to the serious nature of this challenge, there
was much consternation in the goat locker that day. Until,
that is, we remembered our secret weapon, in the form of
MTC K. D. White. Now MTC White being essentially bald
and shaped pretty much like a pear did not look much like a
secret weapon, but underneath that flawed exterior was a
man of HY80 (okay maybe mild steel). Although he showed
absolutely no outward signs of doing so, he worked out every
day and was surprisingly strong. I was made aware of this
during my first patrol when I allowed my distain for his
“poor physical appearance” to be known to him.
Fortunately for me MTC White was a gentle soul and
demonstrated his physical powers to me in a manner that left
me with a more respectful attitude without any bloodshed, to
me.
So that evening at the appointed time we assembled at the
CPO Club; Haddo chiefs and us in the room where the dance
floor was. The band was starting to set up but since it was
still early in the afternoon, we had the room pretty much to
ourselves.
Our COB walks to the middle of the dance floor and
announces to the assembled masses that we are about to
witness “our first miracle of the afternoon”. With this, MTC
White proceeds to one corner of the dance floor and stands
there long enough for the Haddo chiefs to develop a full
blown sneer while wondering what Chief White could
possibly do that the Haddo’s laundry queen couldn’t.
After much anticipation our COB asked the band for a drum
role. With the sound of the drums beating in our ears, MTC
White runs toward the center of the dance floor, jumps into
the air, turns a flip and lands on his feet, much to the surprise
of everyone including ourselves. After the thunderous
applause from our table and the one early CPO Club guest
subsides, MTC White bows and takes his seat.
Now everyone’s attention is directed at the Haddo table and
at this point the assembled Haddo chiefs are looking a little
worried, like they might have to buy some whiskey. After a
brief discussion amongst themselves the Haddo COB stands
up and announces “okay, we can’t do that what are you guys
drinking”?
The Old Number 7 was great and enjoyed by all but the savor
of the moment was much better. Thanks to the Haddo
Challenge, I now knew that I had made the correct choice
when I volunteered for submarine duty. It was a good day!

THANKS
When I relieved Mike Gann at the helm of the
newsletter, I fully expected I would do it out of my
pocket. As it turns out I haven‟t had to carry the load
by myself. Those listed below were generous and
thoughtful enough to help me with this issue.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
Mike Lintner, Dick Noble, Dave Oliver,
John Taylor, Dorothy Williams
And a special thanks to Hal and Liz Clark for sending
all the e-mail copies out (that‟s almost 160 paper copies
that I don‟t have to print and mail). THANKS
ROSTER UPDATE
I know you must think I am about as fickle as a person
can get, but I may be making some changes to the
roster, so again, you get the whole thing. As usual,
changes are in red and losses are in blue.
Taps:
Ronald Eaton – Died on 30 Dec 2009. He passed very
unexpectedly due to an abdominal aortic aneurysm.
He served on the Haddo from 73 - 75.
Larry Fraley – (Date of death unknown) Larry served
on Haddo from May 76 to Oct 76. He was an ICC
(SS).
Paul Shockley – Died on 28 August 2009. Paul was
part of the Commissioning crew and the leading
ELT. He was an ENC (SS) and qualified in 1949.
MISCELLANEOUS
Looking For:
If anybody knows the whereabouts of Scott Atwater, an
old Sub School buddy of his is looking for him. Have
Scott contact Bill Nelson at 622 Harmony Hill,
Madison, WI 53714.
HADDO SHIPMATES:
from the American Submariner
The USS Haddo Base of the USSVI was recognized in
the American Submariner magazine for presenting
submarine caps, honorary submariner certificates, and
miniature dolphins to 46 young oncology patients at the
T.C. Thompson Hospital in Chattanooga, TN.
Tony DeNicola, a Haddo plank owner, of the USS
Carbonero Base, was recognized for his and Alan
Syler‟s visit to the Veterans Health Care facility in
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Soddy-Daisy, TN. They spent time visiting with the
veterans and presented each with an honorary
submariner certificate.
Bravo Zulu
REFLECTIONS / DECISIONS:
from the Editor
This newsletter marks twelve years now that I have
been serving our Haddo shipmates. I thought I would
go for twenty, but for the last couple years or so, I have
given a lot of serious thought to an early out. Two
things have mainly prompted this short-timers attitude:
Contributions to help pay for the newsletter have been
steadily declining and input for the newsletter content
has practically dried up. And, I think, missing the last
reunion just took the last of the wind out of my sails.
But then, over the holidays, a couple things happened.
Several shipmates sent Christmas Cards or made phone
calls that said how much they enjoyed the newsletter.
And, I received a couple real serious contributions.
This got me to rethink my attitude. And, I asked
myself, what‟s the real problem and how can I fix it?
Money is always a concern, but the hardest thing for me
to contend with is the lack of input for the newsletter. I
feel like most of you expect me to come up with the
content for this thing. It‟s your newsletter; I just put it
together (hopefully, in a coherent manner), so that
everyone can enjoy each others memories of one of the
Navy‟s finest (said by a lot of us) submarines.
After all the nice comments I received from those that
wrote and called, about how much they enjoy the
newsletter, the problem certainly doesn‟t seem to be
that nobody cares. So, maybe the problem isn‟t that
nobody wants to contribute to the content of the
newsletter, maybe, after all these years; all the Haddo
stories have all been told (or like in my case, forgotten).
I really doubt that, but I need some help here. So, I
came up with an idea. Of course, if you have a better
idea, I have an open mind. That does not mean that you
can see light between my ears!!!
I know that this is the “Haddo” newsletter – not a
“Submarine” newsletter – but what if we open it up to
stories about any submarine experience? Humorous,
interesting, or poignant stories about any submarine
experience that you‟ve had. I am so hard up for input, I
will even accept stories about that first submersible
bathtub submarine you had a kid. Or maybe a report on
how your first date went to watch the submarine races.
Without input from you guys, I just don‟t have the
wherewithal, or motivation, to continue the newsletter.

The other problem – the cost to publish and mail the
newsletter. This is probably going to shock you, but the
last issue of the newsletter cost $717.30 to send out 177
paper copies. The largest part of that cost is partly my
doing. I spent $463.88 on printer ink. I have a laser jet
printer that will print 177 copies of ten two-sided color
pages in about one day. No paper jams, no miss-prints,
no fuss. My ink jet printer would take almost a week to
print those same copies and I would have jams and
miss-prints so regularly that my frustration rises to the
throw-something-at-the-wall level. So, I choose to use
the more expensive means of producing the newsletter.
Because of the pictures of the reunion, that issue was
more expensive than normal. If it had not been for Lou
Storm‟s raffle, I would have taken a big hit.
I want to get this clear right now. I am not asking for
money. I never have asked for money and I won‟t start
now. Contributions in the past have meant more to me
than just financial help with the newsletter. To me, it
was more of a barometer of how much you appreciated
the newsletter. I said that I won‟t ask for money, but I
don‟t mind asking for help to save money. Here‟s what
I have in mind:
Right here and now, I am giving you a choice of one of
four ways to receive the newsletter.
a. E-Mail: If you choose e-mail (almost half of you
already have and don‟t need to choose again), check the
roster carefully to make sure I have your correct e-mail
address. If I don‟t have your e-mail address, you must
get it to me. As a default, the next issue will go via email
to everyone for which I have an e-mail address
unless you have told me something different.
MAIL SACK
This is how it works. I will send all my e-mail
addresses to Hal and Liz Clark. When I finish the next
newsletter, I will send it to the Clarks; they will convert
it to a PDF format, and send it to you via e-mail. The
only difference is that if you want paper, you can print
it, and, like for this issue, you may get more content.
a. Web Site: If you do not have e-mail, but are willing
to help, you could elect to get the newsletter off of the
internet at the Haddo‟s web site www.usshaddo.com. If
this is your choice, all you have to do is check the
website in April and November. That‟s when I usually
get the newsletters out. If you don‟t have access to the
internet at home, you can go to a library to check the
website. We don‟t have internet access, so I drive 20
miles into town to our library to do e-mail. I do that
about every two or three weeks, however. This differs
from the e-mail in that I don‟t include physical
addresses. If you want an address, call me.
c. CD: If you want the newsletter delivered to your
home, burning the newsletter file to a CD is the next
most economical way for me to get it to you. You will
need a computer, of course, to be able to read or print
the newsletter from. If this media is okay with you, let
me know. The copy you get will be the same as the email
copy (or like this one but with all the content).
d. Snail Mail: If you want a paper copy of the
newsletter delivered to your home, I will be happy to
send it to you, but you need to let me know. You can
send me a note via the post office, an e-mail message,
or give me a phone call at (719) 989-3056. A paper
copy is no longer my default media.
Thanks for your help and understanding.
Charles Andrews
I have new address, and a new e-mail address. I was the TM striker, in the gang with Charlie Free, Dave Warden, Walt Thomas, and
Clive Waite. I was the black guy, proud to have served onboard SSN604, SSN615, SSN 701.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Tom Bichsel
Hey Ray, Thanks for the newsletter. I sent an e mail to Dick Hillman. He pinned his hardback dolphins on me in Hawaii in 1976.
He then proceeded to literally paste them on my chest. I wore them through reserves and I still have them.
_______________
from Richard F. Hillman Sr. Hey Bichsel!!! Do I remember You???? I remember a lot of things: Remember me and Chief Smith
giving u a ride after we went trap shooting? (Trap taste good????) Remember the flooding in the head?? Remember the peanut butter
glazed ham (stuffed)? – It has been a long time; 30+ years. Remember the evacuation of the ship due to the deep fat fryer filters
contaminating the atmosphere? How the hell have u been? The Haddo just had a reunion in St Louis back in September. Remember
Ken Booty? He helps on the reunion committee. I am retired letting the wife work and bring in the bread. I am living in Milford NH
after retiring from the Navy and a second career with Lockheed Martin. I wound up having five kids and they are all grown up
(producing grand children) six so far. Enough about me, what are u up to????? Dick Hillman, COB 604
_______________
Page 7 of 14

to Dick Hillman I remember the deep fat fryer thing well. A certain chief who shall remain nameless, said I could soak the Gaylord
Hood filters in a solution called gameline - which the shipyard used to clean metal before painting it. The thing was that I would have
to "really, really" hose the p---- out of them. I thought I had hosed all that COULD be hosed out. I returned to the boat after picking
up the bread order and everyone was outside the boat. The entire ship's atmosphere was contaminated with a tear gas like effect.
Do you remember the beer drinking contest at The Pier Graveline in Pascagoula,MS? You, me, Ryan and Horner beat those good old
boys in 2 hours and 45 minutes. Each team of four had a half barrel and the losers paid for both. In that time we drank 15 half gallon
pitchers which is the equivalent of a 1/4 barrel: IN TWO HOURS AND 45 MINUTES. The southern boys were dumping their beers
on the floor. I still have that trophy here someplace. I won money for Ryan chugging beers ahead of time to warm up. Have you ever
heard anything about Patsko? He was an MM. We hung together. Remember taking on the U.S.S. Tarawa in Pascagoula in a touch
football game? It was a new kind of assault ship. It was the first of the LHA's. Slayman Dean threw what was a zillion yard pass to
Lt. Patrick Michael McGahan in the waning moments to pull out the game for us. I vaguely remember Chief Smith, not to mention a
flood in the head. I remember when I had 66 days left and a UI made the wrong lineup to blow the sanitary tanks. I was just finishing
a typical 14 hour day in the galley. The pan locker got rinsed thoroughly with what was in the sanitary tanks. We had to stay and
sanitize everything. Remember John Bonifant? He replaced MS1 Ryan. Captain Fredericks put John's name on the plaque in the
back of the crew's mess. I finished 20 with the reserves and retired. Where does that time go? Good to hear from you. Where can I
get a t shirt with the full color Haddo logo on it? I remember Ken Booty. Tell these to him. It will help him remember me.
There was a girl named Liziz, I once knew a man named Bass,
who had boobs of two different sizes. whose balls were made of brass.
One was so small, 'twas nothing at all, He'd rub them together, to play stormy weather,
while the other so large it won prizes. and lightning shot out of his ass.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Bill D’Amato
I enjoy your news letter very much, but I need it sent to my new home address please. looking forward to seeing you at the next
reunion in 2011!!!!!! Thank You, Bill Damato
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Andrew Harris Jr.
I have just been rereading the email copy of the Feb HADDO newsletter and realized that the reunion is coming up very soon. Since I
am now a high school teacher, and September is a pretty big deal for us, I clearly couldn't get to St. Louis, but will be waiting to see
another newsletter edition. I was very glad to be added to your list, and you have my correct contact information listed. For your
information, I was the Navigator from July 1982 until March 1986. During the 82-84 overhaul period I was Nav, OPS, and Combat
Systems Officer for the majority of the time. After we got out of the yard I got to just be NAVOPS as we worked up, qualified, and
then conducted the first Westpac after the overhaul. 1985 was a high point for the boat in the '80s. We were the Squadron 3 "E" boat
and had a really good Westpac, and a good time with trips to Yoko, Subic, (couple of times) Hong Kong, and a stop at Pearl on the
way home. Picked up the ORSE team at Johnson Atoll, with 2 fogged scopes, and could just barely see to pilot into the harbor. Got
scopes fixed in Pearl and entering San Diego after successful deployment was a breeze. In March '86 I transferred to TTF, Bangor
then did an XO tour on Michigan (Blue) then in Nov 1991 took Command of USS WHALE in Groton. Was relieved in Jan 1994 and
finished my career at DEVRON 12 in Groton, retiring in October 1996. Respectfully, A. V. Harris, Jr.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Gregg Larson (to Dick Gill)
There were 90 hearty souls that made it to St Louis for the re-union. As this was my first, it would be imprecise for me to estimate
how much the group “missed” you and Shirley‟s participation, but based on how much I enjoyed meeting and then being integrated
into the group, and some of their individual recollections of “you guys”, I know that I missed meeting you and yours.
Local Intelligence indicates the next re-union here in St Louis in 2011. Look forward to meeting you then. Gregg Larson
_______________
Dick Gill (in reply) Greg, I can not begin to tell you how sorry I am that I missed the reunion either. As I told Ralph yesterday when
he called, I waited until the very last minute Friday am before my flight on the fond hope that I would be OK but just couldn't chance
it. It was a big disappointment to me but I also was concerned that this stuff is contagious too and certainly did not want to take a
chance of passing this on. I only had a mild case and most is gone now (or at least the temperature and throwing up) so that is
positive.
Glad you had a good time. Great group of guys and we had great times many years ago. All the best, Dick
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Page 8 of 14

Joe Mathis
Thanks for sending me the Haddo newsletter. I sure wish I could have made it to the reunion. I was on the Happy Haddo from
09/1984 to 09/1988. I would have been so cool to see some of my old shipmates. I read through the roster and recognized quite a few
names. Richard Raaz was my first CO and he pinned on my dolphins. Thanks again for sending me the newsletter. I'll try to make it
to the 2011 reunion. If you go to the 2010 USSVI convention in Cincinnati, I'll be there. Joe Mathis
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Dave Montgomery
Hello from California. I still do not believe it is possible to have such a wonderful time. But it must be true, no matter how often I
pinch myself. I don‟t know about you guy's but I had the best time I have had in years. To see Lance, Tim, Punchy, and the Saint was
great. And about the COB; not only is he the best cart driver in the world but also the greatest score keeper ever. It was sure good for
me love. Dave. And remember Tim, Squeaky loves me best.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Wes Rathbun
That is one excellent newsletter which you do for the Haddo. I am not certain how you all got me as a sailor on the Haddo, which I
was, but please email the newsletter to me. At more than a buck for postage, plus twenty pages of colored ink, use the money for the
next reunion. Thanks for your effort and time. Wes R
______________________________________________________________________________________________
David Rhoades
Ray, I served on the Haddo from early March thru early June 1968. I was a CTM3 and, as such had to be on call for my team 24
hours a day. Therefore, I wasn't required to stand any watches while we were underway. I started working on qualification on April
16th and finished on May 29th, with CDR Muench awarding my Dolphins on the mess decks. The recommending officer was LT
Gill. Please add my e-mail address for distribution of the newsletter. Thanks,
______________________________________________________________________________________________
John Scheldt
Hi Ray, I was a Sonarman on the USS Guardfish (SSN-612) assigned TDY to the Haddo while we were in Charleston doing parts
system overhaul during 1971-72. Out boat was in the yard at Pascagoula and we ended up over in SC with 40,000 spare parts we had
to sort through and refurbish. My roommate, Dave Rummler, asked me to join the bowling team; he had joined with regular Haddo
crewmembers and I even got the official shirt. I just found the SSN604 shirt and would like to pass it on to you before your reunion.
Of course, it still has my name embroidered on the front but the back shows the 604 logo with the bow through the zero. Just send me
an address where to send it. Thanks, john.scheldt@elpaso.com
_______________
comment to all from Ray - I will have the red and cream colored „Haddo Misfits‟ bowling shirt available at the 2011 reunion.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Gregg Smith
Thanks for the Haddo news letter. It is ok to send email copy, so drop
me from the snail mail list. I have been elected to (as of 1 January
2010) Vice Commander to the Mobile Bay Base SubVets.
http://www.mobilebaybase.com/. So drop me line if you are thinking
of Mobile for a Haddo reunion, we are just about 30 minutes east of
Pascagoula, MS, so visiting Ingalls would be no problem. Attached is
a picture from our October meeting. I am the weenie in the middle.
All the best, Greg Smith AKA Smut STS1(SS) retired.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
John W. Taylor
Hi Ray, This is to notify you that I have a new home address; my e-mail address is the same. I am receiving the newsletter via e-mail,
so you don‟t have to send me the paper copy. I felt bad that I missed the reunion, but both my wife and I came down with the Swine
Flue three days before our flight to St. Louis. I called Ralph Stroede during the reunion and he said the reunion and hotel were great.
Sorry to have missed it. Your work and time getting out the newsletter is greatly appreciated. Sincerely, John W. Taylor.
Page 9 of 14

______________________________________________________________________________________________
Geoff Warnock
Hello Ray - Geoff Warnock here (77-81), well after your time on the Haddo, but a Haddo sailor nonetheless. I got the “Submarine
Chiefs” article from another Haddo sailor - Mike Medina. I told him I'd send this on to 'as many Submarine sailors as I know' and I
can't think of a better audience. Another reason is that I was a Senior Chief on the USS Pittsburgh (SSN-720) in 84-88 and I can't
believe that I was in charge of anything. We did well on the Pittsburgh and I can only assume it was due to being trained by the likes
of Chief Andy Anderson (my Chief in RC-Division), Dick Hillman (the C.O.B. that gave me several checkouts for my SS quals),
Chief Smith (The A-Gang Chief that tore me a new one each time I went to him for information on the HP air system), Senior Chief
Townsend (Sonar Chief that took some time to talk about sonar with me while sitting in a bar in Guam. He also taught me how to
chew tobacco and drink beer at the same time. I saw everything come out of my stomach including my dignity that night). There was
a COB that came after Dick Hillman and I cannot remember his name. He was an A-ganger by trade and a Chief by nature. He was
short and 'well-ballasted' I suppose. He had an o-ring on his wrist and wouldn't tell me what it was all about. I was a young first-class
nuke and outspoken and a basic smart-ass so I imagine he had his issues with me. I can't remember his name but I remember
something he did that will stay with me forever. It was after the evening meal and the mess decks tables were getting cleaned prior to
the movie. Someone said "Time to clean the deck and everyone just sat there. No one moved, as in 'no one' was going to clean the
deck. I don't know how long it was but the COB stood up, got a greenie and scrubbed the deck while we just sat there feeling smaller
by the second. We were all embarrassed, you could FEEL the tension in the air that night. He finished up and said to everyone, "If
the COB can clean a deck, so can everyone else! There will be no movie tonight”. That was almost 30 years ago and I remember
where I was sitting in the mess decks and that I felt about two inches tall. About a decade later, I was in an engine room on the USS
Bainbridge. I was a CWO2 and assigned as the MPA at the time (8-month temporary assignment) and we had an oil leak from a
turbine generator. There were several enlisted guys standing around watching one guy clean up a LOT of oil. I just grabbed a rag and
started cleaning up oil too. Within moments, there were more guys cleaning up oil than we had room for in the area and one of them
was a Chief. He had just come down into the engine room and saw me start and then everyone else jump in. He smiled and politely
asked me to "get the hell away from my equipment". I was in EOS (the maneuvering room on a skimmer) and I could still hear him
chewing some serious butt for allowing me to get in there and clean 'their' equipment. It all comes around.
When I went to other commands, I took parts of those Haddo Chief's with me. Hell, there are STILL parts of them with me in the way
I do business to this day. I just hope I did them proud when I was 'The Chief'. Hope you can use the enclosed "Submarine Chiefs"
piece in the newsletter somehow. If not, it would be a damned shame! :) Geoff Warnock
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Raymond Wright
The Haddo was my first boat and I have a lot of "fun" memories from Mare Island and San Diego. A quote that lives on to this day in
the family came from Cdr. Raz (the Penguin) toward the end of a LONG overhaul in Mare Island in 1983. He came on the 1MC and
said: "I know you‟re tired, we're all tired, but you've got to work harder". I saw him later on a Discover channel special, he was C.O.
of the Ohio. Ray
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Robert Aboud
raboud@yahoo.com
Jim Adams
Steven E. Albert, D.O.
Bob Alcorn
bob.alcorn@cox.net
Robert Aldinger
robertaldinger@gmail.com
Bill Allen
whallen@mac.
USS Haddo Newsletter Roster
(Blue indicates Lost Contact and will be deleted from next roster)
(Red indicates new or changed since the last newsletter)
John Almon
jsalmon710@aol.com
Bruce Alvey
bruce.alvey@comcast.net
Dan (Andy) Anderson
wa5djf@arrl.net
Paul W. Anderson
panderson18785@roadrunner.com
Lance Andretta
lanceandretta@optonline.net
Page 10 of 14
Charles Andrews
cpoandy@hotmail.com
Ed Arnold
Janice Bailey
jbailey41@cox.net
Scott Bailey
msurules101@aol.com
John Balogh
Robert L. Banister
rlbanister@cox.net
Stephen Banks
sbanks1@cox.net
Peter Barlow
petebarlow@nctv.com
Mark Bedilion
Jack Bentley
k4imk@verizon.net
Malo Berry
mberrynj@yahoo.com
Thomas Bichsel
bichseltom@yahoo.com

Adam Black
blackf001@hawaii.rr.com
David A. Blount
consumer22@yahoo.com
John Boehme
boehmejr1@hotmail.com
Edward Bowe
Ken Brenner
kwsg0913@bellsouth.net
John Briquelet
David Bronson
Darrell Brown
dbrown7462@aol.com
Ron Brown
uboater@excite.com
Thomas H. Bryson
tinybryson@msn.com
Steve Buescher
stephen.a.buescher@boeing.com
Ray Butters
raydbf@blackhawkranch.org
William U. Buxton
wbuxton@sc.rr.com
Dick Byrnes
Bill Byrum
bbyrum_1@att.net
Paul Callahan
William Candy
barnaclebill@windstream.net
Merv Canham
Dwayne Capps
Fred Carter
Powell Carter
Daniel Cartwright
dcartwright@cdcartwright.us
Gary Cheslak
Robert W Chewning
Bernie Clark
Harold Clark
halnliz@frontiernet.net
A. Clary
William J. Collins
Ralph Comp
rcomp@sc.rr.com
William Cook
wj.cook@comcast.net
Ray Coons
rayc589@bellsouth.net
Daniel Cooper
dandbcoope@aol.com
Gerald Corcoran
gcorcoran@mindspring.com
David Crannell
dcrannell63@hotmail.com
Donald Cronin
sccronis@knology.net
Larry Crook
Jimmy Culbertson
jmculbertsonof6@hotmail.com
CAPT Rick Current
ricsuetin@cs.com
Bill D’Amato
runnindeep3 @aol.com
Ronald Darnell
darnell517@yahoo.com
James Davis
Kirk Davis
kirk-davis@centurytel.net
Brian Dawson
brian.p.dawson@illinois.gov
dawson.brian@yahoo.com
Dale DeCoursey
dale.decoursey@verizon.net
Page 11 of 14
Les Demmin
demmin@pinn.net
Anthony DeNicola
tonyjudydenicola@earthlink.net
John DeWitt
john1@johndewitt.com
Steve Dibbins
Rick DiSalvo
rjdisalvo@aol.com
Ken Ditto
Pete Douthit
jpdothit@insightbb.com
George Dreyer
gdreyer@dmv.com
Mike Dunbar
hdrkc.jockey@yahoo.com
Ken Dundon
kdundon@kjdundon.net
Greg Dunkle
dunkle604@yahoo.com
Kelly K. Dunn
kcbarnabas@gmail.com
Roger A. Durham
Ellis Dusenbury
Calvin Elam
Terry Elkins
bubz46@yahoo.com
Michael J. Encinia
mencinia@comcast.net
James A. England
mengland4@cfl.rr.com
Russel Ernfield
erniegto@comcast.net
Michael D. Eshnaur
micbear_38@yahoo.com
Joseph Farrell
spiritwar@hotmail.com
John Farro
johfar@mchsi.com
Bob Fehre
rjf401@aol.com
Don Feldman
dfeldm6@aol.com
E. F. (Skip) Fish
martamerrick1@aol.com
Timothy France
rtfrance@aol.com
Bill Frantz
Charles T. Free
charliefree@cox.net
Mike Fridley
John Frye
Jeff Funkhouser
William Galvin
Michael Gann
mgann@nycap.rr.com
Curtiss Gardner
sher707@aol.com
Jack Garrison
jwg604wv@frontiernet.net
Thomas Gault
tomgault@zoominternet.net
Edward W. Geiger
Steven Genstil
Bobby R. Gentry
bgentry7@tampabay.rr.com
Gerry Gibeault
Eugene Gilbert
Richard Gill
rbgill@msn.com
Leslie O. Gleason
Donald C. Gorence
dcgorence@yahoo.com

Mark Gores
m.gores@hrlabs.com
Paul Graessle
Aaron P. (Ron) Graff
rgraff88@hotmail.com
Walt Grant
Skip Greiner
skipgrei@cox.net
Dave Gronbeck
dgronbeck@windstream.net
Martha Hale
Breezyknoll1@aol.com
Andrew Harris Jr.
avharris-jr@wavecable.com
Oscar R. Harris
orharris@yahoo.com
Craig M. Harvey
c3ranch@earthlink.net
Frank Hausen
hauslemc13@aol.com
James Hay
William Hayes
Patrick F. Healey Jr.
paddydahat@verison.net
Clifford Herbst
James Higgins
William Hildebrandt
bhild8@comcast.net
Dick Hillman
rhillmansr@comcast.net
Kelly Holmes
badmoon@earthlink.net
Fred Holmes
fholmes210@charter.net
Steve Homic
stevehomic@att.net
David Hottenstein
Robert E. Hunt
Robert Jaeger
Gerald Joachim
wakonade@yahoo.com
Dana D. Johnson
Douglas Johnson
Jerry Johnson
Norm Johnson
johnson@ca.metsci.com
Jack Johnston
jbjohns@alltel.net
Jim Johnston
jmj5@aol.com
Wayne L. Johnston
wayne65ford@att.net
Jerry Jolly
jerryjolly@verizon.net
Will Jordan
nrotcco@purdue.edu
Governor C. Joy
waterslug@aol.com
Thad "Ski" Kedzierski
Kedzierski1@llnl.gov
Larry C. Kelley
Richard Kepner
rickndar@msn.com
Dave Kittelson
ealk@yahoo.com
Karl Klaas
kdklaas@verizon.net
Arthur Kneuer
akneuer@aol.com
John Knoechelman
jknock@bright.net
Earl W. Koepcke
earl.koepcke@gmail.com
Don Koeppen
Bernie Kolbmann
bkolbmann@roadrunner.com
Page 12 of 14
Sidney D. Koranek
judyk123@comcast.net
Larry Krause
Leroy (Rocky) Kreider
Kreider@aol.com
Michael T. Kubiniec
michael.kubiniec@comcast.net
Phil Lambert
lambertp@ccmech.com
Theodore L. Lanske
tedsph98@aol.com
Ron Larsen
haddossn604@sbcglobal.net
Dean Larson
Gregg Larson
greggd.larson@exeloncorp.com
Steve Lavallee
salavallee@yahoo.com
Gregory T. Lee
Darter576@yahoo.com
Dale Liggett
Marvin A Lindroth
Mike Lintner
Andy Little
littleaw@comcast.net
Chris Longe
navcpo2@yahoo.com
Bruce Loughridge
loughbd@oz.net
Scott Lowrimore
Jerry Lundquist
Daniel J. Lynch
dlynchindy@iquest.net
William (or Bill) Mack Sr.
Johnnymack1983@aol.com
Juice Madai
James Mangold
jim@man-arch.com
Bobby Martin
bmartin358@aol.com
Joseph Martin Jr.
Andrew Massimino
Harry Mathis
Joseph R. Mathis
usnjrm@yahoo.com
Charles Mattson
silvertip46@aol.com
Michael McGahan
mcgahanm@cox.net
Patrick J. McGovern
pat@appsmail.com
John McMicheal
macm@airmail.net
Dale McQuinn
Mike Medina
C. Mendenhall
cgm_iii_66@yahoo.com
Larry Miers
lmmiers@swbell.net
Tom Miletich
Norman Mims
mims2home@msn.com
Marc Mitchell
Dave Montgomery
montdk@sbcgloble.net
Jimmy Moore
Lyle Moore
cryoguys@hotmail.com
Ray Moore
pnc@bellsouth.net
Glen Morgan
schcosmo64@windstream.net

Ed Mox
edwardmox@sbcglobal.net
William Murphy
Bob Nash
Ed Neasham
ed@neasham.com
Bill Neff
neffw@earthlink.net
Mark Nelson
Jim Niemann
jniemann@aol.com
Jack A Nobbs
janobbs@aol.com
Dick Noble
rmnoble@hughes.net
Robert Noonan
Dean
Nyffelerdanyffeler@aol.com
Patrick O’Brien
patrick.t.o'brien.ctr@navy.mil
Bill O'Connor
Joseph F. (Red) O’Hara
2joe4ohara@gmail.com
David Oliver
DaveOliverJr@verizon.net
Dennis G. Osborn
denster63@hotmail.com
Wayne E. Otto
wotto@intergrity.com
Larry G. Page
lgpageusa@aol.com
Denis Panek
dennispanek@yahoo.com
Jim Parker
ja-parker@cox.net
Don Payne
jddaj@aol.com
Bruce Peacey
J. Steven Perry
Fred Pester
cgdolphin@aol.com
Scott Pinkston
sharkie_mo@yahoo.com
Kenneth T. Pitman
ktpskeet@msn.com
Cary (Rick) Polen
rixhere@msn.com
Ed Polz
Neil Poole
Allan Precht
Frank Prochazka
Roger M. Rackley
visionquest4@earthlink.net
Phil Rainha
Wes Rathbun
thesimple@msn.com
Bill Craig Reed
wc@reedwriting.com
Richard H. Reichner
dachief@frontiernet.net
David W. Rhoades
dwrhr@aol.com
Thomas Riccio
James L. Rieves
jimr7933@yahoo.com
Gerald F. Roch
roch@epix.net
Nolan Romero
flonol@yahoo.com
Glen Rosendale
glenr@pobox.com
Dempsey Rouse
haddo604@embarqmail.com
Tom Rush
tennielgv@cox.net
Joseph Rustin
rustwood@mvn.net
Levi Salazar
Fred Santillanes
Stephen Sass
slsass@embarqmail.com
Richard B. Scheuer
scheuerrb@juno.com
Mark Schneider
schneider29@embarqmail.com
William C. Schneider
Dwayne Schuh
Dwayne.schuh@summit.fiserv.com
Mark Schwinger
schwinger@comcast.net
Christopher S. Seebald
cseebald@snet.net
cs6352@att.com
Gary Semler
gsemler@sc.rr.com
Claude Shelton III
Jeffery Sherwood
jeffsherwood@verizon.net
Roy Shipp
rshipp@powerflame.com
Louis Slaughter
Nan Sluski
irish1947@aol.com
Don Smith
dirtywatersmith@comcast.net
Greg Smith
lgsracer@hotmail.com
Lowell Smith
lgsracer@hotmail.com
Reid Smith
Robert Smith
rakett@aol.com
Denny Snider
Page 13 of 14
Kevin Speer
chevroneast@qwestoffice.net
Jon Spencer
Ray Sphar
Mike Sposeto
Doyle Stevenson
Dick Stever
Stephen Stockinger
stephenjn@yahoo.com
John Stoffel
Louis O. Storm
Barbara Stratton
Ralph Stroede
rstroede@hughes.net
Thomas J. Studebaker
tomjerstu@att.net
Joe Sullivan
SulliJoe4264@comcast.net
John Sullivan
Jeff Summy
jeff_ssn604@yahoo.com
Glenn Suneson
suneson@bellsouth.net
Rod Taft
bgrt@cableone.net
Chester Tallant
cdtssn604@1starnet.com
Buck Taylor (Koon)
Jack Taylor
jasminetay@aol.com
John W. Taylor
Jasminetay@aol.com
William Taylor7
williamlt55@yahoo.com
williamlt@aol.com
Mike Teberg
mteberg@mac.com

Steven R. Tefft
steven_tefft@att.net
Ladd Tomlin
ladeau@bellsouth.net
Dale Torpey
dtorpey@federationbankia.com
Bob Townsend
iago2007@verizon.net
Gary True
Ray ‘Tim’ Turner
Tom Upshaw
upshaw@hargray.com
Richard C. Umland
rick-eye@excite.com
Kipp Van Aken
Steve Van Osdol
hickoryandoak@gmail.com
James Van Wyk
jlvanwyk@mmm.com
John Viney.
totengo@aol.com
Dave Waddell
Fernley Wagner, Jr.
pint33@aol.com
Phil Wagner
evaphil@msn.com
Clive E. Waite
suberrn@charter.net
Frederick A. Waldman
mowray5@rconnects.com
Alex Wampler
mrfox@sutv.com
Mike Wampler
Dale Ward
dward@farmersagent.com
George H. Warner
buckssn593@aol.com
Tom Warner, Sr.
ttwarner1964@yahoo.com
Geoff Warnock
gwarnock@cox.net
Denny Weaver
Wilson W. Weaver
ww071549@bellsouth.net
Frederick Weilminster
Ron Wells
Dennis Wendt
dennis_wendt@msn.com
L Wess
Richard B. White
rich1of7@hotmail.com
Payson Whitney
Len Wiens
lensuewiens@aol.com
Mrs. Dorothy Williams
Wyvel T. Williams, III
tomw@optimumsteel.com
Paul Wiltberger
wilt@cfl.rr.com
Michael P. Wimmer
jkr859@aol.com
Frank Wise
frankjwise@gmail.com
f.wise@mail.utexas.edu
David Woodward
Raymond Wright
n1lul@comcast.net
Keith Zimmer
kzimmer@wi.rr.com
Linda Zink
lindazink1@aol.com
I had heard, through the grapevine, that at the last reunion, Ralph Stroede and Dick Noble had a very serious discussion.
As the story goes, Ralph was describing his „Buffalo Theory‟ to Dick. This is how the conversation was reported to go:
“Well, you see Dick, it‟s like this. A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest animals in the herd. And when
the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and the weakest animals that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd
as a whole, because the general speed and health of the group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest
members.
“In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Now, as we know, excessive
intake of alcohol kills brain cells. But naturally it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular
consumption of alcohol eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine.
“And that, Dick, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers.”
�
I don‟t make the news, I just report it!
Life is simple. You‟re either qualified or you‟re not!
Of the awards that I received during my naval career, I am most proud of my dolphins!
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