vaughn

Now hear this, now hear this
The web-site indicated as mine belongs to a friend named Basil Duncan who was in the 4th Marine Division and hit Kwajalein Atoll the same date as our ship did, 31 January 1944.
My web-site is at: http://groups.msn.com/HampsPictureAlbum/shoebox.msnw
and Basil's is at: http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Plains/5850/

We've both had our web-sites operating for several years.

Here's a sea tale written up by the New York Times of the USS LCI (L) 450's operation during the Kwajalein invasion 31 January 1944.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
USS LCI (L) 450

SPECIAL DISPATCH TO NEW YORK TIMES

' CUSSED ' LCI SAVES FIFTY FROM DROWNING
BY ROBERT TRUMBULL (COPYRIGHT BY NEW YORK TIMES )

ABOARD AN LCI, KWAJALEIN SOUTH PACIFIC FEBRUARY 4, 1944 (LCI (G) 450)

Navy men on the big sleek warships refer to an LCI (Landing Craft Infantry) as
"A Barge With A House On It ." These ugly ducklings of the navy are seldom noticed except to be cussed or good naturedly derided, and they do a ticklish job under fire with scant credit. This one happened to have saved 50 men from drowning in the furious white water that pounded the sharp coral ledge around Ennubirr Island, during the marine landings there January 31, 1944
These 23-foot wide-beamed 158-foot craft are designed to snub against a beach and debark assault troops down a ramp. Sometimes, instead of bringing in troops, they are gunboats that knock out enemy positions on the beach. That's what this one was doing that morning, when a strong current pushed her onto the reef. A battleship was bombarding the island, the shells whistling above the LCI. In the roar of the gunfire Lt. (jg) Thomas F. Kennedy, jr., Bryn Mawr, Penn., who has been Captain of this humble ship since she was commissioned at Barber, N.J., couldn't hear the racket of his vessel going aground.
The situation was humiliating, Kennedy thought, but he didn't have time to worry about it then, for four Amtrac (troop-carrying amphibious tractors) were capsizing on the reefs 500 yards astern.
MEN EXHAUSTED
The men struggling in the water were near exhaustion, and the Alligators in the wave behind them had struck some.
Dr. R. B. Hardy, marine surgeon, once was pinned under an Alligators, but he was a powerful man--a former All American football player at Harvard-- and managed to break free. Lt. D. N. Boydston was near drowning, later he said that as he was battered under the waves, he seemed to see a picture of his wife.
The LCI threw a line to Dr. Hardy, P. S. Layser, J. R. Boltuc and A. J. Tiedway, the four strongest swimmers among the overturned marines--in fact, the only ones who were not too beaten by the waves to swim. The line was hurled from the LCI's fantail, and the four marines fought with it through the surf to a reef buoy, where they tied the end after losing the line several times on the way.
Now it developed that the wash of the ship was strong enough to break the hold of the other castaways on the line, so Kennedy brought out two more stout ropes, which Layser and Tiedway held in their powerful hands so as to form a square around the outside of the viciously tugging current. By this route all of the stranded men were brought aboard, three of them so exhausted that they had to be carried by Boltuc.
INSTALLS HOSPITAL
Meanwhile Hardy remained aboard the LCI and set up a hospital in the radio room, with Pharmacist's Mate 1/c Sydney Baumber of Boston. All of the marines were aboard by 1 P.M.
After a continuous two-hour battle with the sea, two of them were dead. Kennedy was about to order his lines hauled in for he needed them, when two more Alligators commanded by a Lieutenant Montgomery also capsized on the reef. Three men drowned immediately, and Ensign O. J. Banasik had taken so much salt water aboard that he had to be worked over for three hours before he revived.
In all, 50 men were saved. Hardy and Baumber stripped them all and had them lie on the LCI's broad fantail for examination. Some of them has serious coral cuts of which they were unaware, and the Doctor worked over these. Meanwhile the bombardment of the islands continued.
CREW SHARES
Kennedy put the sickest cases, including Boydston and Banasik on cots in the mess hall. The LCI crew broke out all of the ships cigarettes and gave their guests dry clothes and ammunition for
the weapons they had salvaged.


Page 2

Two days later Kennedy put the 50 men in small boats with a supply of food and landed them on Ennuebing. Kennedy had time then to talk the matter over with his subordinate officers- Ensign Gerald Connors, of Toledo, Executive Officer; Lt. (jg) Robert Main, of Middletown, OH Engineer; and Ensign Wallace Brady of Bancroft, Wis. Young Kennedy was not at all impressed by the fact that he had saved 50 men to fight another day. Instead he was extremely downcast because going on the reef had prevented his fulfilling his mission of shooting up Ennubirr beach.
" I hope," he said ruefully this morning in his tiny, spotless wardroom, " that we get a chance to redeem ourselves."


Editors Note – After Kwajalein was secured; the ship was eventually pulled off the reef after numerous attempts. The ship had damaged props and holes in her keel, the keel was temporarily patched and we were towed in convoy back to Pearl Harbor where permanent repairs were made. She rejoined LCI Flotilla Three, Group 8 and participated in the Mariana’s July 1944 campaign and Iwo Jima where Group 8 LCI’s gave covering fire for the UDT groups that went in to the beaches of Iwo Jima two days before the invasion 19 February 1945. All ten LCI’s that covered the UDT groups 17 February 1945 were severely damaged from Japanese shore installations and had heavy casualties. 39 KIA, 1 MIA, 153 WIA, 5 died of wounds, 1 Combat Fatigue. Five of the casualties mentioned weren’t ships company, they were UDT, Marine Corps observers and Navy photographers: 3 KIA, and 2 WIA.


Vaughn Hampton

Dreadnought

Vaughn,
Sir,
There is sooo much I would like to ask you I dont know where to start. It is truelly an honor to have you in the forums and able to give some real perspective on many topics you yourself experienced. : )

vaughn

Here's a sea tale I was directed to on the internet that might have changed world history if it had played out a bit different. It's a story of a destroyer that seemed to exist under a cloud dropping bad luck on and around the ship. Judge for yourself -
~~~~~~~~~
History of the USS William D. Porter (DD-579) From November 1943, until her demise in June 1945, the American destroyer 'William D Porter' was often hailed whenever she entered port or joined other Naval ships - with the greetings: 'Don't shoot, we're Republicans! For a half a century, the US Navy kept a lid on the details of the incident that prompted this salutation. A Miami news reporter made the first public disclosure in 1958 after he stumbled upon the truth while covering a reunion of the destroyer's crew. The Pentagon reluctantly and tersely confirmed his story, but only a smattering of newspapers took notice. Fifty years ago today, the Willie D as the Porter was nicknamed, accidentally fired a live torpedo at the battleship Iowa during a practice exercise. As if this weren't bad enough, the Iowa was carrying President Franklin D. Roosevelt at the time, along with Secretary of State, Cordell Hull, and all of the country's WWII military brass. They were headed for the Big Three Conference in Tehran, where Roosevelt was to meet Stalin and Churchill. Had the Porter's torpedo struck the Iowa at the aiming point, the last 50 years of world history might have been quite different. The USS William D Porter (DD-579) was one of hundreds of assembly line destroyers build during the war. They mounted several heavy and light guns, but their main armament consisted of 10 fast-running and accurate torpedoes that carried 500-pound warheads. This destroyer was placed in commission on July 1943 under the command of Wilfred Walker, a man on the Navy's fast career track. In the months before she was detailed to accompany the Iowa across the Atlantic in November 1943, the Porter and her crew learned their trade, experiencing the normal problems that always beset a new ship and a novice crew. The mishaps grew more serious when she became an escort for the pride of the fleet, the big new battleship Iowa. The night before they left Norfolk, bound for North Africa, the Porter accidentally damaged a nearby sister ship when she backed down along the other ship's side and her anchor tore down her railings, life rafts, ship's boat and various other formerly valuable pieces of equipment. The Willie D merely had a scraped anchor, but her career of mayhem and mishaps had begun. Just twenty-four hours later, the four-ship convoy consisting of Iowa and her secret passengers and two other destroyers was under strict instructions to maintain complete radio silence. As they were going through a known U-boat feeding ground, speed and silence were the best defense. Suddenly, a tremendous explosion rocked the convoy. All of the ships commenced anti-submarine maneuvers. This continued until the Porter sheepishly admitted that one of her depth charges had fallen off her stern and exploded. The 'safety' had not been set as instructed. Captain Walker was watching his fast track career become sidetracked. Shortly thereafter, a freak wave inundated the ship, stripping away everything that wasn't lashed down. A man was washed overboard and never found. Next, the fire room lost power in one of its boilers. The Captain, by this point, was making reports almost hourly to the Iowa on the Willie D's difficulties. It would have been merciful if the force commander had detached the hard luck ship and sent her back to Norfolk. But, no, she sailed on. The morning of 14 November 1943 dawned with a moderate sea and pleasant weather. The Iowa and her escorts were just east of Bermuda, and the president and his guests wanted to see how the big ship could defend herself against an air attack. So, Iowa launched a number of weather balloons to use as anti-aircraft targets. It was exciting to see more than 100 guns shooting at the balloons, and the President was proud of his Navy. Just as proud was Admiral Ernest J King, the Chief of Naval Operations; large in size and by demeanor, a true monarch of the sea. Disagreeing with him meant the end of a naval career. Up to this time, no one knew what firing a torpedo at him would mean. Over on the Willie D, Captain Walker watched the fireworks display with admiration and envy. Thinking about career redemption and breaking the hard luck spell, the Captain sent his impatient crew to battle stations. They began to shoot down the balloons the Iowa had missed as they drifted into the Porter's vicinity. Down on the torpedo mounts, the crew watched, waiting to take some practice shots of their own on the big battleship, which, even though 6,000 yards away, seemed to blot out the horizon. Lawton Dawson and Tony Fazio were among those responsible for the torpedoes. Part of their job involved ensuring that the primers were installed during actual combat and removed during practice. Once a primer was installed, on a command to fire, it would explode shooting the torpedo out of its tube. Dawson, on this particular morning, unfortunately had forgotten to remove the primer from torpedo tube #3. Up on the bridge, a new torpedo officer, unaware of the danger, ordered a simulated firing. "Fire 1, Fire 2," and finally, "Fire 3." There was no fire 4 as the sequence was interrupted by an unmistakable whooooooshhhhing sound made by a successfully launched and armed torpedo. Lt H. Steward Lewis, who witnessed the entire event, later described the next few minutes as what hell would look like if it ever broke loose. Just after he saw the torpedo hit water on its way to the Iowa and some of the most prominent figures in world history, Lewis innocently asked the Captain, 'Did you give permission to fire a torpedo?' Captain Walker's reply will not ring down through naval history - although words to the effect of Farragut's immortal 'Damn the torpedoes' figured centrally within. Initially there was some reluctance to admit what had happened, or even to warn the Iowa. As the awful reality sunk in, people began racing around, shouting conflicting instructions and attempting to warn the flagship of imminent danger. First, there was a flashing light warning about the torpedo, which unfortunately indicated it was headed in another direction. Next, the Porter signaled that it was going reverse at full speed! Finally, they decided to break the strictly enforced radio silence. The radio operator on the destroyer transmitted "'Lion (code for the Iowa), Lion, come right." The Iowa operator, more concerned about radio procedure, requested that the offending station identify itself first. Finally, the message was received and the Iowa began turning to avoid the speeding torpedo. Meanwhile, on the Iowa's bridge, word of the torpedo firing had reached FDR, who asked that his wheelchair be moved to the railing so he could see better what was coming his way. His loyal Secret Service guard immediately drew his pistol as if he was going to shoot the torpedo. As the Iowa began evasive maneuvers, all of her guns were trained on the William D Porter. There was now some thought that the Porter was part of an assassination plot. Within moments of the warning, there was a tremendous explosion just behind the battleship. The torpedo had been detonated by the wash kicked up by the battleship's increased speed. The crisis was over and so was Captain Walker's career. His final utterance to the Iowa, in response to a question about the origin of the torpedo, was a weak, "We did it." Shortly thereafter, the brand new destroyer, her Captain and the entire crew were placed under arrest and sent to Bermuda for trial. It was the first time that a complete ship's company had been arrested in the history of the US Navy. Marines surrounded the ship when it docked in Bermuda, and held there several days as the closed session inquiry attempted to determine what had happened. Torpedoman Dawson eventually confessed to having inadvertently left the primer in the torpedo tube, which caused the launching. Dawson had thrown the used primer over the side to conceal his mistake. The whole incident was chalked up to an unfortunate set of circumstances and placed under a cloak of secrecy. Someone had to be punished. Captain Walker and several other Porter officers and sailors eventually found themselves in obscure shore assignments. Dawson was sentenced to 14 years hard labor. President Roosevelt intervened; however, asking that no punishment be meted out for what was clearly an accident. The destroyer was banished to the upper Aleutians. It was probably thought this was as safe a place as any for the ship and anyone who came near her. She remained in the frozen north for almost a year, until late 1944, when she was re-assigned to the Western Pacific. Before leaving the Aleutians, she accidentally left her calling card in the form of a five-inch shell fired into the front yard of the American base commandant, thus rearranging his flower garden. In December, 1944, she joined the Philippine invasion forces and acquitted herself quite well. She distinguished herself by shooting down a number of attacking Japanese aircraft. Regrettably, after the war, it was reported that she also shot down three American planes. This was a common event on ships, as many gunners, fearful of kamikazes, had nervous trigger fingers. In April 1945, the destroyer was assigned to support the invasion of Okinawa. By this time, the greeting "Don't Shoot, We're Republicans" was commonplace and the crew of the Willie D had become used to the ribbing. But the crew of her sister ship, the USS Luce, was not so polite in its salutations after the Porter accidentally riddled her side and superstructure with gunfire. On 10 June 1945, the Porter's hard luck finally ran out. She was sunk by a plane, which had (unintentionally) attacked underwater. A Japanese bomber made almost entirely of wood and canvas slipped through the Navy's defense. Having little in the way of metal surfaces, the plane didn't register on radar. A fully loaded kamikaze, it was headed for a ship near the Porter, but just at the last moment veered away and crashed along side the unlucky destroyer. There was a sigh of relief as the plane sunk out of sight, but then it blew up underneath the Porter, opening her hull in the worst possible location. Three hours later, after the last man was off board, the Captain jumped to the safety of a rescue vessel and the ship that almost changed world history slipped astern into 2,400 feet of water. Not a single soul was lost in the sinking. After everything else that happened, it was almost as if the ship decided to let her crew off at the end.

troung

One of the best one might say...

Dreadnought

A very intresting story. : )

vaughn

Survivors off the USS MONAGHAN sunk during the Typhoon Cobra Dec ember 1944
Two of the six enlisted men who survived the sinking of the USS MONAGHAN during a typhoon in the Pacific are in the United States, their minds still filled with the tension and horror or their 72 hours in a storm-tossed sea. The two men, rescued by the USS BROWN, are; Joseph Charles McCrane, Watertender, Second Class U.S.N.R, 30 of 115 Delaware Avenue, Clementon, New Jersey, and Robert J. Darden, Machinist's Mate Second Class, USNR 28, of Route One, Jacksonville, North Carolina. They are the senior survivors of the MONAGHAN. The remaining survivors are still in the pacific area, recovering from exhaustion, exposure and shock. The 1500-ton destroyer MONAGHAN capsized in December during a typhoon in the Philippine Sea, with a loss of more than 200 officers and men. The story of its loss and the eventual rescue by the BROWN of the six survivors is told by McCrane and Darden. "Thirteen of us were on the only life raft that was picked up," Darden explained, "but seven died or disappeared before we were rescued. Me I was too busy bandaging injured men and handing out food and water, trying to make it last, to think about dying. I guess that's one reason why I just didn't give up hope like some of the boys." The storm struck suddenly, shortly after dawn, McCrane said. He was below supervising the filling of two empty oil tanks with salt-water ballast. The ship had run low of fuel and in company with the Spence and the Hull, two other destroyers lost in the same storm, she had been trying to refuel the night before, it was because of this that her ballast had been pumped out earlier, but the rough seas caused the abandonment of the fueling attempts. "Things got bad around 11 o'clock on the first morning of the storm, the New Jersey man said, "but I bet there wasn't a man at that time who didn't think we would get through. Suddenly, I guess about noon, she began to roll violently to starboard. We found out later that the wind driving against our port side was over 100 knots. One of the fellows on the raft who was topside during the worst part said the starboard whaleboat dipped water several times and that she rolled over at least 70 degrees." "The suddenness of the disaster is what surprised us. Before her final roll, the ship seemed to have gone over just as far as she did when she went over on her side. Before the final roll there were 40 or 50 of us in the after gun shelter. We stopped work and hung on. We began to get scared. All of us were praying like we never prayed before, some of us out loud, too. The man next to me kept repeating on each roll "Don't let us down now, Dear Lord. Bring it back, Oh God, bring it back." We all felt the same way, and soon a few of the guys joined in. Then was when we came back we'd chant, "Thanks Dear Lord." The next thing we knew we were on our side. Darden broke in at this point in the tale to say that previous to the MONAGHAN'S tragedy he had looked around to find something to "Knock myself out with." In case he was trapped below."I didn't think much of being drowned like a rat in that gun shelter." He said. "When it came, someone threw open the hatch," McCrane went on, "And we started to scramble out. Under the circumstances, most of us were pretty orderly and there was hardly any hysteria. The fellows start helping each other, particularly the shorter men who couldn't reach the hatch." "I climbed out of the hatch and stood on a bulkhead. The waves were knocking me about, but I didn't want to shake loose because I saw what happened to men who had jumped off as soon as we heeled. They were pounded to a pulp against the side of the ship. But finally a big wave shook me loose and I went scrambling along the ship until I was lucky enough to grab a depth charge rack. I walked along the torpedo tubes. Another wave hit me and I went into the air." "The next thing I knew I was struggling in the water trying to keep from being pounded against the ship. Water and oil were blowing against my face. I was choking and beating the water with my arms and legs like a puppy. I saw I wasn't getting anywhere so I calmed down and got away gradually. But I was losing strength when suddenly someone hollered: "Hey Joe, grab that raft in back of you, I think it was a fellow named Guio (Joseph Guio Jr., Gunners Mate, Third Class USNR, of 4020 Washington Street, Holliday's Cove, West Virginia.) Who later died on the raft. Thirteen of us got to it and hung on the sides like they did in that Noel Coward movie; (In This We Serve). I never saw the movie, but I remember those guys hanging on from a trailer I saw." This was about 1230, McCrane added, and was approximately the time the MONAGHAN filled up with water and went down completely. The wind at that time was blowing so hard that the driving salt Page 2 - spray and oil made it difficult to see more than a few yards and the survivors were unable to say for sure whether anyone was on the MONAGHAN at the time. "It looked to me like there was no one left," he said. "We looked around for others to help and started to help some of the badly injured get on the raft. One of these was Ben Holland (Will Ben Holland, Ships Cook, First Class, USNR, son of Willian Earl Holland, Rural Route 1, Mc Minnville, Tennessee). He was a typical of the badly injured with a big gash on the back of his head and on his foot. Guio, the guy who yelled to me about the raft, was another. He had part of his foot torn off. (Note by Chuck Smith.) These life rafts were a balsa wood ring about four feet across and 8 or 10 feet long. They had a coarse weave netting of about 3/8-inch rope fastened to the balsa wood ring, with a woven wooden slat bottom. The only thing you could do was hang on to them. Your body was in the water whether you were on the inside or the outside of the balsa wood ring.) "Before we got the bottom of the raft down it turned over four of five times. This meant we had to fish around and help the wounded back on each time and we were getting pretty tired and weak. After we got the bottom down we all climbed aboard--thirteen of us---that first night." I broke out the emergency rations - Spam, hard biscuits and stuff like that--and water. I limited them to a biscuit, cup of water two or three time a day, as soon as we opened that Spam, the sharks started nosing around. We all ate a little, drank our mite of water and tried to get some rest. "That first night we just missed being saved. We saw the lights of a ship and started hollering and yelling, waving our arms. But she passed us by without seeing us. About this time I put my arms and legs around Guio because he was naked and suffering from the cold. Just then he said, "Joe can you see anything?" I thought he meant the ship and I told him I could. "I can't see a thing" he answered. " A few minutes later he closed his eyes-- and we got ready for our first burial at sea. Doil Carpenter, Seaman, First Class, USNR from California (Address at time of enlistment was 562 East 223rd Street, Torrance, California), said a prayer and we put Guio, the guy who probably saved my life by yelling about that raft, over the side. "The next day we were all confident we would be picked up. Planes passed over us, but it was still pretty rough and our little raft must have been hard to see. A TBF (torpedo plane) went right over us. That night another fellow died after he had gone berserk and started to drink salt water. We tried to stop him too. Another fellow started swimming around the raft and we lost him as well as Holland, who died of his injuries. "The next day and night passed about the same way. Another man went over the side and was lost and two more swam to another unoccupied raft. They were never seen again. Meanwhile, McCrane had applied first aid to the remaining men, bandaging up their cuts and applying sulfa powder and ointment." Darden broke into McCrane's narrative again to tell how he began to see a mirage, a pretty, white beach with lights, he too jumped over the side and started to swim toward the "beach". Luckily it vanished in time and he returned to the raft. "The water tasted brackish so I thought we were in a sound" Darden explained. "I got some of the other fellows to taste it and they agreed with me. Shows how we were beginning to look pretty grim. He was trying to keep up his hopes as well as those of the other survivors. Pretty soon we saw some fighter planes come over," he resumed, "and knew we were either near land or one of our carriers." They later turned out to be carrier planes. These two planes banked over us and dropped some of those water markers. Twenty minutes later we saw the most wonderful sight in the world, a destroyer steaming at full speed right at us. A few moments later she was alongside with everyone shouting advice. Someone threw us a line and soon we were safe. She turned out to be the USS BROWN, a 2100 toner, badly battered by the storm herself. They told us when we got aboard that a shark was right on our tails the whole time we were being rescued. "Well he's welcome to the rest of that Spam, anyway." (Note by Chuck Smith...I think these were the only survivors from the Monaghan.) All told 82 men were picked out of the heaving seas. But 790 men were gone. Three destroyers had been sacrificed to Typhoon Cobra, and so many other ships had been damaged that the fleet could not participate in that attack on Luzon. A court of inquiry blamed the disaster on Admiral Halsey---whatever problems the weather experts had encountered; he was the responsible commander.

Dreadnought

I have read that particular story before. However I rather hear it from someone that was indeed there.

vaughn

correction-
I wasn't in the Task Force caught by typhoon Cobra, but I was on the edge of another one while aboard the 158 foot by 23 foot beam USS LCI (G) 450. I don't believe the LCI ships would have held together if the un-named typhoon (tropical storm - ?) had moved over our group of LCI's being escorted by a couple destroyers. We were fortunate we just caught an edge of it as it moved alonside our convoy.
Believe me if a destroyer with a keel and speed has problems navigating a typhoon , think how a flat bottomed, blunt-nosed, ship drawing a draft of 3.5 feet at the bow and 5 feet at the stern would treated in a full blown typhoon?
As it was, our ship sprung a crack along a deck weld that concerned all of the crew. Our group of ships were only buffeted for about 8 hours and it passed behind us.

sparten

The Mongols failed to conqor Japan, twicw because of Typhoons!

__________________
"Any relations in a social order will endure if there is infused into them some of that spirit of human sympathy, which qualifies life for immortality." ~ George William Russell

vaughn

We anchored in Buckner bay 15 June 1945. We weren't anchored around any of the capital ships, due to size, I guess we weren't considered big enough to associate with the big ones I suppose. :-)

Kamikazes hit Buckner Bay almost daily and I observed large explosions around the larger ships.

__________________
Hamp
USS LCI (L) & (G) 450
WW ll Gator Navy

Dreadnought

The battleships cruisers and carriers must have been a sight in those days.

Any good photos you may be able to share?

KPR

I have to add the mass production of penicillin. It pretty much changed modern medicine for the better.

vaughn

Here's my web-site that was put together several years ago.
Scroll down to the last album called LCI's and I have some action pictures of LCI's involved in covering the UDT groups checking out Iwo's beaches two days before the invasion on 19 February 1945.

http://groups.msn.com/HampsPictureAlbum/shoebox.msnw

cottage cheese

Lemon...My uncle (the Arisaka guy- remember?) picked up a pair of WW2 vintage Ford Willys from Zunhebuto district. Spent some big bucks and time restoring them with what could be got in the country. I also arranged a Dodge 4x4 WC also a WW2 vintage, in running condition from the village. The USarmy had a small base in Mokokchung..left behind some hardware so.Mokokchung and the neighbouring districts had a profusion of US army vehicles. You can look there. Most, however, will require significant restoration, rebuild. I'm told Kolkota and Hyderabad is a good source of old spares.

__________________
"If knowledge can create problems, it is not through ignorance that we can solve them."

lemontree

Moving stuff interstate is too much trouble now, maybe later in life.
I 'm more interested in the profusion of the 'bang' 'bang' stuff there Jeeps can be salvaged elsewhere too.

__________________

Cheers!...on the rocks!!