One of my bffs just sent me this clip – it gives you some great perspective (and made me laugh). Check it out. It takes a little bit to load, but it’s worth waiting for. Then you’re going to laugh at yourself for “having to wait for it to load” as you listen to what Louis CK is on about. It’s great.
Ten Commandments to Staying Alive in the Wild
A great article from the San Francisco Chronicle – perhaps applicable to “staying alive” in this “wild” recession??? – Solitaire
You ever face a life-or-death predicament in the outdoors? Yes? Then you already know to never assume you’ll rise to the challenge. And “If you live on the edge,” as the late Waylon Jennings said, then you know “you can be subject to a fall.”
These lessons come to mind after Raiders linebacker Marquis Cooper and two friends were lost at sea when their boat capsized on an offshore fishing trip last weekend, and a Squaw Valley ski patroller was killed Tuesday by an avalanche as he tried to clear the resort of exactly that danger. Like many who followed these stories, my heart goes out to the families and friends of the victims.
Last April, I wrote about a similar siege of tragedies, and it seems calamities in the outdoors are reported virtually every week. These stories remind me of the close calls I’ve had and the advice my mentors and friends have provided on trips.
Here’s that collected wisdom. I hope you clip it, save it, and stay safe:
1. Never hope: When you face a crisis, never try to hope your way through it. Take complete command of the outcome, even if this means immediate withdrawal for your safety. Rusty Ballinger, my flight instructor, repeated this so many times that it is practically branded on my forehead. This is the opposite of what Waylon called “Going to the Bank of Chances.” One night at South Lake Tahoe, he said: “If you keep going to the Bank of Chances, you’ll find you’re overdrawn.”
2. Get your ego out of the way: Most athletes and successful professionals are hard-wired to believe they can handle anything, no matter what they face and how little training they actually have. “You do not rise to the occasion,” said Il Ling New, firearms and self-defense instructor. “You default to your level of training.” Remember that. So get trained to the highest skill levels in everything you do.
3. Know the danger: “Mountains wait for you to make a mistake, then punish you, but water comes after you, attacking you. You have to be ready for both.” Jeffrey Patty, photographer and wilderness explorer, said that one night at camp. The moment was memorable, after we’d nearly drowned trying to cross a river at flood stage amid a six-week off-trail wilderness expedition where we’d been hired to look for Bigfoot (really).
4. Learn your lessons: The first time we hiked the John Muir Trail, a few miles north of Forester Pass, we crossed paths with some know-it-all greenhorns, and my brother Rambob said: “Smarts in the outdoors has nothing to do with intelligence. It has to do with learning your lessons.” Never forgot that moment. Personal expertise often comes from having failed in small ways, then using those experiences to get it right.
5. Get it right: “Know what the hell you’re doing,” commanded Ed Dunckel, my Little League baseball coach, who in the next 40 years shared all his fishing secrets with me. In my travels, he advised always seeking out the top experts I could find and then learning everything they knew. I’ve always done that. I still have mentors for everything.
6. Have a plan: Many crises develop when members of a group do not work out a clear plan that they agree to share. This can be true even for a mild vacation. “Start every trip by having a meeting of the minds on how you’re going to spend your time, especially husbands and wives,” advised rafting guide Diane Strachan. “The problems start when people have a different idea of what is supposed to happen.” In a crisis, this is amplified a hundred fold, when your life can depend on swift, coordinated action.
7. Be decisive: “Have an idea, then move forward.” This was the motto of legendary woodsman Davy Crockett. Guides still teach it. “If you execute your plan, be decisive,” New said. “A mediocre plan executed assertively will serve you better than a perfect plan executed poorly or too late.”
8. Trust yourself: If you are the type of person who is perpetually disappointed when others let you down, as Bob Dylan wrote, then instead “trust yourself.” To take it a step further, “Trust your intuition,” says scientist and trekker Michael Furniss. Once, trekking off-trail in the Trinity Alps, we decided against a planned route up to Sawtooth Ridge when he said, “This doesn’t feel right in my gut.” We reconvened and developed a new plan. Way better.
9. Leave yourself an out: The “surprise factor” is often common in outdoor tragedies. “Most people don’t see it coming,” said Bob Simms, one of California’s top woodsmen, “so always leave yourself an out no matter what happens.” Of course, before heading out, assemble all the information available for your trip. Prevent and avoid rather than confront. This is the opposite of hoping you’ll make it, and in that case, see No. 1 about the Bank of Chances.
10. Pay attention: This recent trend, where people simply don’t pay any attention to what’s going on, shocks us old-school guys. We see people tune out from nature and reality as it occurs, where they instead plug into iPods, cell phones, radios or talk too much. I really don’t understand it. The greatest pleasure of the outdoors comes by unplugging from technology and heightening and taking in the sight, sound, smell, touch, taste and how you feel inside. Those with heightened awareness not only have a better time, but they tend to stay out of trouble.
Intervention on my BFF
Okay, so since I’m now using this as a blog again (smile), I’m writin’ what’s up today.
I was up at 4:00 this morning, because the economic news is not good in this Bond Grrl’s household. My James told me his take-home is being cut by 25% (though he still has a job). We talked about it a lot, and went to bed, and I woke up in a cold sweat at 4:00. Not very Bond Grrlish of me, is it?
SO, I went downstairs to catch up on my email/bills/etc. from our being away (nothing like returning from an expensive trip and having another on the horizon – already paid for – to make you freak too!). OK and catch up on Criminal Minds, Bones, CSI NY, Oprah…At about 7:00, I got a text from my bff, Domino. She is moving this weekend, had said she didn’t need help, and then realized she DID need help. She asked if I could be there by 9:00, and I said I’d do my best.
Woke my James up with coffee at about 8:30 (VERY early for my handsome husband secret agent!) and told him I really had to (and wanted to) go – Domino has moved me probably 5 times, and somehow I have never reciprocated. He had a bunch of “honey do” stuff for me – mainly going to a local home improvement store that’s going out of business and looking at things we don’t quite need now, but we definitely WILL, since they’re marked down 50%. I wound up with a kitchen sink and a huge outdoor amphora in the back of the SUV – and off I went to Domino’s.
I was about 2 hours later than she wanted me there (I got there at about 10:45) – so I didn’t actually help with packing the moving van as her James and his buds had hoped (or bring them bagels and coffee as they’d hoped!). The boyz were all done, and she was up at the new house when I showed up at the old. Both he and Domino said that there were “just the baby clothes left” in the closet, and could I get them and bring them up? SURE, I said.
OK, so I swept through that house like the Grinch in Whoville. (I actually texted her at one point “I feel like I need to look for Cindy Lou Who’s lollypop!”) There was a lot of “stuff” that hadn’t been packed – you know, odds and ends – but all over the house. I wound up starting downstairs, and just bringing everything up to their foyer, first – then taking a look at what I actually could pack and bring.
The funniest part was that there weren’t a lot of bags or boxes left – just a few – but as I dove into back closets and the like I wound up finding things like the cover for her massage table (HUGE score for carrying stuff!), old Nordstrom’s bags that suits come in, grocery bags, stuff like that. So I went to tackle their bedroom, last (which was the one place that I was supposed to really clear out – the baby’s closet).
Now, mind you, this baby has more clothes than ~I~ do (she’s like 4 months old). But there was still about 1/4 of Domino’s closet, some still in her James’ closet, a boatload of hangars, and all the baby’s clothes. And the breast pump. And the baby bath. And…oh Lord…all Domino’s bathroom stuff.
INTERVENTION! I started texting her as soon as I opened up those bathroom drawers! She had a bottle of massage oil I had brought her back from Scotland – FIFTEEN YEARS AGO. (Yes, really.) Oil…goes…bad…hello…I texted her to say “Just Say ‘Throw’!” She had dozens of lipsticks. I’m cleaning out the drawer, there are 3 Chanel of the same color, unopened, behind some QTips…ok yeah I could go on. And so I totally busted her chops. And dozens of jog bras. Sweaters smashed behind sweaters.
Why are they moving? Like all of us, they need to save some dough. They can get a better house by moving farther from the city, and into a more “cookie cutter” neighborhood and rent there for a while, as they save for their own place.
She’s skimmed my book, but I guess it just didn’t “catch.”
Lots of Brands in the clothes and accessories…but Safeway-brand vitamins.
How many of you are like this? Be serious. Have you really gone through YOUR house? How about taking some of your extra stuff to a Consignment Store? Or eBay? If not there, how’s about doing a Clothing Swap party (I’m having one on Monday!), where you can all get “new clothes” from your friends, and then give the rest to charity! And I can’t stress enough that your “big money” should be spent going into you…not onto you. You never EVER see a Bond Girl in brands…
About 8 years ago, an Auntie of mine (Rosemary Manell) had to be put in an Alzheimer’s Home, and my James and I helped my Mom clean out her house. Holy cow. It was one of “those” situations – books up the stairwells…stuff everywhere – and we are talking GOOD stuff. She was Julie Child’s best friend, and her husband had been Consul General during World War 2, and she had lived an awesome awesome life – so she had GREAT stuff, just a LOT of it. After we worked for weeks on it, all of us wound up cleaning up our stuff, because we realized we just did NOT want to be in that situation later in life! It was just one of those moments. And it was what formed how I explained how to “attack these issues” in the first Chapter of my book!
Well, there I was, facing it again…and I know (because my bff just texted me!) that she thought she was SO GOOD! Woah.
OK, one funny thing – I wound up PACKING my car and I mean PACK-ING it with stuff to bring up to their new house…but the stuff I’d had to get with my James was all still in the back too. When Domino’s James’s BFF saw it, he said “HEY, look, she’s got everything, and the kitchen sink….SERIOUSLY.” It completely cracked me up.
So, that’s the update. And yeah, I’m goin’ back to the bloggin’ style that got my book written – write stream of consciousness, post. So there. See ya, maybe not tomorrow, but definitely Monday after my Clothing Swap Party!!
“Do Over” or “Mulligan” or “Time Out” for Solitaire
So, this is my “Do Over” post. For what seems like forever, I have been a fairly poor correspondent (and worse podcaster!) I had everything “set” last year – podcasts were going up once a week, blogging often, all that jazz.
What happened? Happy married life? Complacency? A little of both?
So here I sit, 172 pounds (oh lord, I said it – of course, it was 179!), and not “walking my talk.” Again, not sure how it snuck away from me, but part of it definitely has to do with the fact that I have started a new business (SendOutCards – check out sandy-shepard.com if you haven’t already), we travelled a LOT last year (yeah, I know, you’re feeling SO SORRY for me), and, again, well, I just got sorta kinda “fat and happy.”
We just returned from the Big Island of Hawaii (see? I know you feel SO SORRY for me), and during that time I had a “Time Out” and got to thinkin’. We absolutely adore staying at the Four Seasons – a friend of ours has a condo there (I think it cost $2 mil – yes, really), and it’s just “the good life.” Get up, condo is clean and clear, go down to the amazing gym where “cabana boys” hand you towels and water and spritz you with Evian and help you set up your weight routine….lounge in the meditation area…go down and watch the sea turtles in the ocean…
My publisher has wanted me to start thinking about a Workbook to go “with” my book – and what came to me in Hawaii is that perhaps what I need to do is work through my own book – and blog it – getting back to the basics that I myself advocate. (What a concept!) I was going to start right when we got back – but air delays, gate delays, weather, and then laundry, groceries and chores sort of blew that idea. However, the current “plan” is to start kinda today (with this post), and then get out my own dog-eared copy of fEmpowerment and work through it…and let ya’ll know how it’s going.
I plan to podcast it as well – my “James” finally got my upload capabilities working, and re-uploaded all my podcasting software. As I probably blogged, my computer blew up in December and I was without it for 2 weeks – then when I got the big bill (grrrr) and it turned out it could NOT be repaired “after all”, had to buy a new one….which meant my James re-uploading everything out of backups, downloading freeware, the works. The final “bit” of it he did last night. So I have no more excuses.
I have been uploading my Granddad’s diary from WWI – which I think I will finish today – I am not sure if anyone is actually interested, but I’m really excited to have it available. Then, time to just regroup, and Find My Inner Bond Girl and Let Her Out!
Page 7 of Grandpa’s Diary – flipping flapjacks with a saw
Eventually we started again, but alas, in a few miles we turned south missing Paris, the same as we did London. The biggest city was Tours, and we stopped in a suburban station for a few minutes. Continuing on, we finally debarked at Charenton (Cher) almost the exact center of France, where we were billeted in a barn for some three weeks. The Cher river ran through town and we could swim in it. One day Newt Monk started to dive from a rock into the Cher. He was clad, only, in his wristwatch and just as he left the rock someone yelled, “Newt, your watch!” I never saw a more agonized look. I don’t know if the watch was spoiled, but presume it was. I do not remember much about the stay there except went to a traveling movie show once (it was terrible) and once went on a hike to Ainay-le Chateau which is about 7 kms. At Charenton I attained the age of 22 and it seems my birthday was not a French National Holiday (August 23, 1918) so no celebration.
More 40s and 8s and by slow stages we got to Is-Sur-Tille (Cote d’Or) where we stayed in the freight yards several days, finally moving on to Langres from where we hiked to St. Geomes (Haute Marne) and another barn for a few days. A 40 and 8 is a freight car supposed to carry 40 men or 8 horses. As it said “Quarante hommes ou huit chevaux.” Langres was A.P.O. 714 which was Warren’s A.P.O. for a while. [note – not sure who Warren is, but that’s a family first name for us so probably kin.] I did not see Warren, but he wrote me a letter from there. I recall washing clothes on the flat stones besides the ladies of the neighborhood. One day we hiked to a cave of Sabinus and saw a little spring that was the source of the Marne.
Next move was to some place near to the front lines, going by truck. I think it was called St. Jean. There we lived in dugouts and for the first time were issued sidearms (45s). The Signal Corps is a non-combatant unit and “is supposed to fire only in self defense.” One of our boys, Quigley, drew a picture of our dugout, #9, and I have a copy of it drawn by Myra’s cousin, Mrs. Burnham of Bristol. [Note: I have this framed, but in a box in the attic.] Our dugout was noted for rats, who would skid on the metal cans of hard candy we had bought from the YMCA in Langres, and land on our faces, then scurry away. One of our boys was Jim Ballantine, whom we called the “Iowa Bearcat.” Once when he was asleep someone lifted up the end of his blanket and pinched his toe. He jumped and I never in my life heard such a yell. One of the pleasant(?) jobs was to go into the rainy woods and roll up the Germans’ rusty barbed wire – the Germans had been driven back. I remember the cook making flapjacks and turning them over with a saw. He would flex the saw, put one end under a pancake and it would go 5 or 6 feet in the air, turn over several times, and land on the uncooked side. I was fascinated by the performance and watched him do it several times without missing once.
Our next move was to Mousson Hill, next to Pont a Mousson. There was a Church standing on top of the hill. It was said that the Germans didn’t knock it down because they wanted to use the steeple to sight on in firing.
Our wireless station was dug out of solid rock on the French side of the hill, and there was only a footpath for access to it, with a sheer drop in front. The first signals we heard when our set was in business was NAD, Charlestown, Mass. navy yard.
Feisty’s college connection: Party Without the Pain
There’s a cliche out there that you’re supposed to party hard while you’re in college. What they don’t tell you is a night of partying can often end face-first in a toilet. I’ll lay my cards on the table: I’m not a big drinker and never have been. So, on the one hand, I can’t tell you what it’s like to experience a night of puking into the tub. On the other, I can share my reflections from years of watching the club and bar scene with a sober eye, seeing who gets the guy and who makes a fool of themselves dancing on the bar.
I’m not going to give you all the tips you’ve heard from your roommates and dorm buddies. You know more about hangover cures than I do, I’m sure. (And if you find one that actually works, let me know.) Instead, I’m going to give you three tips to make sure you have a great time, whether or not you’re drinking.
1. How do you want to feel?
Before you go out, think about what you want the evening to be like. Be honest. If you really want to get plastered and don’t mind dealing with the consequences tomorrow morning, go for it! If you want to keep your wits about you and only have a few drinks, figure out how you’re going to manage it beforehand, whether that’s by taking along a non-drinking friend or only putting $20 in your wallet. Thinking through your night for even five minutes before you head out the door will save you a lot of unnecessary problems later.
2. Plan your morning the night before
Pop quiz: if you knew you’d have to go to a morning workout, would you have six drinks the night before? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m not advocating Sunday morning workouts (though you can, of course), but think through what you want to do the next morning BEFORE you go out the night before. That way, you’ve got something to look forward to besides a hangover.
3. There’s more to nightlife than clubbing
Most of the time, when people hear “party,” they immediately think, “going out drinking.” But it doesn’t have to be that way. There’s tons of fun stuff to do that doesn’t involve alcohol at all, like rallies, festivals and cheering on the home team. I had an amazingly active social life in college and didn’t spend too much of it in bars. If you like bars, that’s great. If you don’t, check the posters around campus and see what else is happening.
Attention Bond Grrls “of a certain age”:
For most people, the post-college years feature far fewer “puking into the toilet” nights, and that’s a good thing. You’ve probably passed through the gauntlet and emerged on the other side. Congratulations! Just remember, the tips above are still useful for anyone painting the town red, not just the college crowd.
Feisty’s College Connection: How to Ace Your Finals Without Cramming
It’s that time of semester again: midterms. I have bad news and good news. The bad news is that if you still haven’t started studying for midterms, there’s not much I can do for you. The goods news is that I can help you for your finals, which are probably worth more anyway. It won’t take a lot of time, it’ll wipe out overnight cramming, and it’ll dramatically cut down on end-of-semester stress. It’s as easy as 1-2-3.
1. Take notes by hand and skim them the same evening.
I know it’s fashionable to bring laptops to class, but write by hand anyway. For one, it’s easier to be freeform when hand-writing. You can write notes in the margins, draw diagrams, and focus on the main ideas, not hunting for the graphing function. The amount of notes you take is a matter of personal style, but focus on the concepts, not scribbling every word the prof is saying. Don’t worry about making your notes look nice. Just write. Every evening, spend 15 minutes skimming that day’s notes. This helps it stay in your brain and acts as an early-warning system for stuff you don’t understand.
2. Type or rewrite your notes on the weekend.
If your hand-written notes are anything like mine, they’re pretty messy. Now’s your chance to fix that. Block off a weekend afternoon and rewrite or type out all your notes from the week. Focus on aesthetics, organization, and structure. Don’t be afraid to rearrange, expand, cut, or color-code. Rewriting does two things. First, you review what you covered in class. Second, it gets your notes into a presentable, useable condition. When you’re done, throw out your hand-written notes. You won’t need them. Heck, you might even get people asking to buy your typed notes. (I did!)
3. At the end of semester, read through your notes.
I didn’t say pour over or cram. I said read. If you’ve never followed a system like this before, “just reading” might be a strange concept. But I promise if you’ve done steps 1 and 2, you won’t need to cram. Seriously! You’ll remember so much from your evening skimming and weekly rewriting sessions that a simple read-through should be all it takes to jog your memory. Now’s the time to look for bigger themes that span large portions of the course. What are the topics that come up repeatedly? What are the links from one unit to the next? Since you don’t have to decipher disorganized chicken-scratch, you can devote yourself to higher-level study and still have more time for relaxing.
And that’s it. Fifteen minutes a day and one afternoon a week to a stress-free end of semester. I dare you to try this. You’ll never go back.
Attention Bond Grrls “of a certain age”:
This is probably my most college-specific post to date, but there are still nuggets for you. No matter what you’re trying to remember or retain, daily and weekly reviews will be far more effective than sporadic info-binges. Try using this technique with updates in your field and see how much more you remember… effortlessly!
Feisty’s College Connection: Dorm Room Diet
Are you dreading the Freshman 15? I won’t lie to you. I was a victim of the Freshman-and-Sophmore 25! In fact, it took me all the way to grad school to figure out how to eat properly on campus. Campus cafeterias are full of temptations, from all-you-can-eat buffets to twice-daily desserts. But I learned how to beat them, and you can, too. Here’s a list of tips I wish someone had given me when I started university.
1. Save yourself for the really good desserts
If your cafeteria is anything like mine was, you could eat two desserts a day. That is the path to the Freshman 50! But you don’t want to deprive yourself. What’s a girl to do? I came up with a simple rule for myself: eat only the really good desserts. My college had a dessert night every few months with gourmet pastries. Every few weeks, we had a fancy dinner with luxury cakes. You know what, if I’m getting gourmet desserts every few weeks, I don’t mind missing out on the three-day-old apple strudel on the lunch cart today.
2. C is for coffee (That’s good enough for me)
Getting up for an 8 am class is hard. Sometimes your brain needs a little kick-start. But that doesn’t mean to grab a Venti Frappuccio. If you do, you can down 500 calories before you’re awake to enjoy it! To get your caffeine hit, get a regular coffee, load it with milk and sugar, and it’ll still be less calories than a “coffee drink.” If you want to consume 500 calories in a drink, that’s great. But just remember point #1.
3. The new SS: soup and salad
Here’s a trick I learned from Barbara Rolls’ Volumetrics. If you eat a bowl of soup before your meal, you’ll naturally eat less of the main course. And you can eat a ton of salad, feel full, and not consume too many calories. It’s probably a good idea to eat at least one salad a day, anyway. And if someone else is preparing it, why not! A word of warning, though: stay away from the cream-based soups and go easy on the dressing. Those calories add up!
4. The janitor doesn’t cares if you finish your vegetables (or anything else)
Maybe you’re from a family where Mom wouldn’t let you have dessert if you didn’t finish your veggies. Maybe she used the “children are starving in Africa” line. This may have led you into the bad habit of cleaning your plate, even if you’re full long before that. Now that you’re on your own, no one cares! Certainly not the janitor who’s collecting the plates or emptying the garbage! Eat until you’re full, then stop. And remember, it takes the stomach 20 minutes to send the “I’m full signal” to the brain, so don’t rush for seconds right away.
5. Don’t eat out when you’re eating in
Most cafeterias I know offer some good choices… and some really bad choices. I could have had pizza and burgers twice a day for a year, if I wanted. But I bet you consider those “eating out foods” already. Think about how often you want to eat out and plan accordingly. Sure, grab a burger every now and then, but don’t make it your first pick.
Attention Bond Grrls “of a certain age”:
Okay, maybe you’re now faced with cooking your own meals. Spending hours cooking can be a time drain. But on the other hand, you can control exactly what you put in your body. You’re not subject to the whims of the Olga the cafeteria chef. Everybody can use the tricks above, not just college students. Just make sure that indulgences are special occasions, not everyday events.
Memories of World War I by Robinson Shepard (my grandpa) – page 6: Where Grampa finally gets to France.
After welcoming speeches by dignitaries we marched to, and boarded, one of the peculiar looking British trains. We rode as far as Winchester, where we marched up a steep hill to a British rest camp, “Winnal Downs.” There we had a meal of what the boys called “Oak Leaf Stew,” a very thin and tasteless watery soup, with a few things that looked like oak leaves floating in it.
The next morning we boarded a train and set off in the general direction of London. I was hopeful we were going through London, but a few miles short of there we turned off and pulled up on the Docks at Southampton. The Harbor was very busy and I saw the Narraganset! It looked like home and I realized what we were missing in England were Indian names.
On the docks at Southampton all the boys who were in evidence were put to work, but a few including me managed to keep out of the way behind piles of barracks bags and slept off the afternoon.
We got on a little Channel steamer and cast off in the middle of the night. We steamed as fast as possible across the English Channel with no zigzagging as had been done across the Atlantic. Rain began pouring down so everyone went inside and were four or five deep on the floor. Very rough passage and some were seasick. I wasn’t and went back on deck to avoid them.
Sunny France at last!! Charbourg at 3:30 a.m. pitch dark and pouring rain. After we got organized we started up a steep hill. Some of the boys started to sing and were promptly ordered to “shut up, the Germans will hear you.” With the rain pouring down and pitch dark, if any Germans were within 200 miles they were in a plane whose engines roared so loud one couldn’t hear himself think let alone soldiers singing, on the ground, to keep up their courage.
Next day I was on Guard duty and saw my first duty as an American soldier in France and I was to keep Portuguese soldiers out of a British Rest Camp. They had a camp nearby and tried to get in for more food, so it was said. They were all tall and big men, much larger than I and I had no arms of any kind, but I looked as fierce as possible and told them no admission, so they all turned around as meekly as possible, to my surprise and relief. Don’t remember how long we were in this camp, but came down to Cherbourg to a troop train. On the way down we passed a house where someone said Dumas wrote Les Trois Mousquetaires.
This train was composed of 40 and 8 cars. The first we had seen, but far from the last. Finally we started in the direction of Paris. Stopped in the freight yards of Caen (a good sized city, home of one of the professors I had at Besancon. Think it was Chauvenet, the Chemistry one, but am not sure.) Stayed there some time and on the next track was a string of freight cars, each composed of two immense wooden barrels. The word got around that this was wine, so a lot of boys got some in their mess kit cups. All you had to do was turn a spigot at the bottom of the barrel. However it was very cheap and very sour “pinard” issued to the “frogs” which is what the French soldiers were called in camp. Very few of us, if any, went back for seconds on the wine.
Memories of World War I by Robinson Shepard (my grandpa) – page 5: Where Grampa’s ship is the only American ship to land in Wales during the War.
Finally the convoy of 23, with the British cruiser “Berwick,” started for Europe. The convoy was faster than the Berwick and several times had to wait for it to catch up. One day we had a submarine scare and the Berwick left (us) to chase the Sub and we never saw the Berwick again.
One of the unpopular aspects was the necessity of a daily shower. The shower room opened on the deck at both ends (no doors). A cold salt water shower in mid-Atlantic with a stiff wind blowing on you is not the most comfortable thing in the world, and it is also hard to dry off from a salt water shower.
Two days (although we didn’t know that) from the other side, two U.S.A. 4-stack destroyers appeared and how the boys cheered to see them, the Stars and Stripes. They were fast too, and kept circling the whole convoy, and once included a submarine scare and I thought sure we were hit. However, it was our guns. We had one in the stern. When our guns were fired the old cattle boat just shivered with the recoil.
The night before we landed those who could find a place were allowed to sleep outside. I found a place on one of the forward hatches and with overcoast under me and poncho over me went to sleep. About 3 a.m. came a driving rain. With the first few drops I wakened and retired to the Orlop deck and the poncho kept off most of the rain, but some of the boys were soaked to the skin.
LAND and were we glad to see it. We separated from the rest of the convoy and sailed up the Govars Estuary, docking at Cardiff, Wales on July 31st. I understand it was the only American Ship to land there during the War.
Solid ground again! What a welcome we got from the inhabitants!! It must have seemed miraculous to the war weary people, who had been at war for nearly 4 years, to see a shipload of soldiers appear from over the horizon, to be on their side.
Cardiff reminded me a lot of Boston – narrow crooked streets and buildings of 7 or 8 stories (the limit in Boston at that time). We marched, full pack, up the main street to the Welch [sic] Capitol building. It was extremely hot and carrying full pack and coming from weeks of relative inactivity many fell out and sat on the curb. As soon as a soldier did this a native would rush to him with a drink from a nearby Pub, and seeing this more and more feel out. When we got to the Capitol Plaza they played the Star Spangled Banner and while standing at attention several passed out.