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Archive of:   sff.discuss.heinlein-forum
Archive desc: The Internet home for the Heinlein Forum
Archived by:  webnews@sff.net
Archive date: Sat, 19 Jun 2004 21:48:46
============================================================

Article 23584
From: Kevin Patrick Crowley 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:06:00 -0500
Subject: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without comment,
unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.

"TAKING CHANCE"
As it was sent to my friend Steve, I am now sending it to you all. This is the
side of a war that pulls the emotions in many directions, but keeps more than
enough pride to get us through. I was more than touched by this and there is
long reason why. Passing my personal  to the Col. and for PFC Chance, May he
rest in Peace.



Chance Phelps was wearing his Saint Christopher medal when he was killed on
Good Friday.  Eight days later, I handed the medallion to his mother.  I didn't
know Chance before he died.  Today, I miss him.

Over a year ago, I volunteered to escort the remains of Marines killed in Iraq
should the need arise.  The military provides a uniformed escort for all
casualties to ensure they are delivered safely to the next of kin and are
treated with dignity and respect along the way.

Thankfully, I hadn't been called on to be an escort since Operation Iraqi
Freedom began.  The first few weeks of April, however, had been a tough month
for the Marines.  On the Monday after Easter I was reviewing Department of
Defense press releases when I saw that a Private First Class Chance Phelps was
killed in action outside of Baghdad.  The press release listed his hometown
--the same town I'm from.  I notified our Battalion adjutant and told him that,
should the duty to escort PFC Phelps fall to our Battalion, I would take him.

I didn't hear back the rest of Monday and all day Tuesday until 1800.  The
Battalion duty NCO called my cell phone and said I needed to be ready to leave
for Dover Air Force Base at 1900 in order to escort the remains of PFC Phelps.

Before leaving for Dover I called the major who had the task of informing
Phelps's parents of his death.  The major said the funeral was going to be in
Dubois, Wyoming.  (It turned out that PFC Phelps only lived in my hometown for
his senior year of high school.)  I had never been to Wyoming and had never
heard of Dubois.

With two other escorts from Quantico, got to Dover AFB at 2330 on Tuesday
night.  First thing on Wednesday we reported to the mortuary at the base.  In
the escort lounge there were about half a dozen Army soldiers and about an
equal number of Marines waiting to meet up with "their" remains for departure.
PFC Phelps was not ready, however, and I was told to come back on Thursday.
Now, at Dover with nothing to do and a solemn mission ahead, I began to get
depressed.

I was wondering about Chance Phelps.  I didn't know anything about him; not
even what he looked like.  I wondered about his family and what it would be
like to meet them.  I did pushups in my room until I couldn't do any more.

On Thursday morning I reported back to the mortuary.  This time there was a new
group of Army escorts and a couple of the Marines who had been there Wednesday.
There was also an Air Force captain there to escort his brother home to San
Diego.
We received a brief covering our duties, the proper handling of the remains,
the procedures for draping a flag over a casket, and of course, the paperwork
attendant to our task.  We were shown pictures of the shipping container and
told that each one contained, in addition to the casket, a flag.  I was given
an extra flag since Phelps's parents were divorced.  This way they would each
get one.  I didn't like the idea of stuffing the flag into my luggage but I
couldn't see carrying a large flag, folded for presentation to the next of kin,
through an airport while in my Alpha uniform.  It barely fit into my suitcase.

It turned out that I was the last escort to leave on Thursday.  This meant that
I repeatedly got to participate in the small ceremonies that mark all
departures from the Dover AFB mortuary.

Most of the remains are taken from Dover AFB by hearse to the airport in
Philadelphia for air transport to their final destination.  When the remains of
a service member are loaded onto a hearse and ready to leave the Dover
mortuary, there is an announcement made over the building's intercom system.
With the announcement, all service members working at the mortuary, regardless
of service branch, stop work and form up along the driveway to render a slow
ceremonial salute as the hearse departs.  Escorts also participated in each
formation until it was their time to leave.
On this day there were some civilian workers doing construction on the mortuary
grounds.  As each hearse passed, they would stop working and place their hard
hats over their hearts.  This was my first sign that my mission with PFC Phelps
was larger than the Marine Corps and that his family and friends were not
grieving alone.

Eventually I was the last escort remaining in the lounge.  The Marine Master
Gunnery Sergeant in charge of the Marine liaison there came to see me.  He had
Chance Phelps's personal effects.  He removed each item; a large watch, a
wooden cross with a lanyard, two loose dog tags, two dog tags on a chain, and a
Saint Christopher medal on a silver chain.  Although we had been briefed that
we might be carrying some personal effects of the deceased, this set me aback.
Holding his personal effects, I was starting to get to know Chance Phelps.

Finally we were ready.  I grabbed my bags and went outside.  I was somewhat
startled when I saw the shipping container, loaded three-quarters of the way in
to the back of a black Chevy Suburban that had been modified to carry such
cargo.  This was the first time I saw my "cargo" and I was surprised at how
large the shipping container was.  The Master Gunnery Sergeant and I verified
that the name on the container was Phelps's then they pushed him the rest of
the way in and we left.  Now it was PFC Chance Phelps's turn to receive the
military-and construction workers'-honors.  He was finally moving towards home.

As I chatted with the driver on the hour-long trip to Philadelphia, it became
clear that he considered it an honor to be able to contribute in getting Chance
home.  He offered his sympathy to the family.  I was glad to finally be moving
yet apprehensive about what things would be like at the airport.  I didn't want
this package to be treated like ordinary cargo yet I knew that the simple
logistics of moving around a box this large would have to overrule my
preferences.

When we got to the Northwest Airlines cargo terminal at the Philadelphia
airport, the cargo handler and hearse driver pulled the shipping container onto
a loading bay while I stood to the side and executed a slow salute.  Once
Chance was safely in the cargo area, and I was satisfied that he would be
treated with due care and respect, the hearse driver drove me over to the
passenger terminal and dropped me off.
As I walked up to the ticketing counter in my uniform, a Northwest employee
started to ask me if I knew how to use the automated boarding pass dispenser.
Before she could finish another ticketing agent interrupted her.  He told me to
go straight to the counter then explained to the woman that I was a military
escort.  She seemed embarrassed.  The woman behind the counter already had
tears in her eyes as I was pulling out my government travel voucher.  She
struggled to find words but managed to express her sympathy for the family and
thank me for my service.  She upgraded my ticket to first class.

After clearing security, I was met by another Northwest Airline employee at the
gate.  She told me a representative from cargo would be up to take me down to
the tarmac to observe the movement and loading of PFC Phelps.  I hadn't really
told any of them what my mission was but they all knew.

When the man from the cargo crew met me, he, too, struggled for words.  On the
tarmac, he told me stories of his childhood as a military brat and repeatedly
told me that he was sorry for my loss.  I was starting to understand that, even
here in Philadelphia, far away from Chance's hometown, people were mourning
with his family.

On the tarmac, the cargo crew was silent expect for occasional instructions to
each other.  I stood to the side and saluted as the conveyor moved Chance to
the aircraft.  I was relieved when he was finally settled into place.  The rest
of the bags were loaded and I watched them shut the cargo bay door before
heading back up to board the aircraft.

One of the pilots had taken my carry-on bag himself and had it stored next to
the cockpit door so he could watch it while I was on the tarmac.  As I boarded
the plane, I could tell immediately that the flight attendants had already been
informed of my mission.  They seemed a little choked up as they led me to my
seat.

About 45 minutes into our flight I still hadn't spoken to anyone except to tell
the first class flight attendant that I would prefer water.  I was surprised
when the flight attendant from the back of the plane suddenly appeared and
leaned down to grab my hands.  She said, "I want you to have this" as she
pushed a small gold crucifix, with a relief of Jesus, into my hand.  It was her
lapel pin and it looked somewhat worn.  I suspected it had been hers for quite
some time.  That was the only thing she said to me the entire flight.

When we landed in Minneapolis, I was the first one off the plane.  The pilot
himself escorted me straight down the side stairs of the exit tunnel to the
tarmac.  The cargo crew there already knew what was on this plane.  They were
unloading some of the luggage when an Army sergeant, a fellow escort who had
left Dover earlier that day, appeared next to me.  His "cargo" was going to be
loaded onto my plane for its continuing leg.  We stood side-by-side in the dark
and executed a slow salute as Chance was removed from the plane.  The cargo
crew at Minneapolis kept Phelps's shipping case separate from all the other
luggage as they waited to take us to the cargo area.  I waited with the soldier
and we saluted together as his fallen comrade was loaded onto the plane.

My trip with Chance was going to be somewhat unusual in that we were going to
have an overnight stopover.  We had a late start out of Dover and there was
just too much traveling ahead of us to continue on that day.  (We still had a
flight from Minneapolis to Billings, Montana, then a five-hour drive to the
funeral home.  That was to be followed by a 90-minute drive to Chance's
hometown.)

I was concerned about leaving him overnight in the Minneapolis cargo area.  My
ten-minute ride from the tarmac to the cargo holding area eased my
apprehension.  Just as in Philadelphia, the cargo guys in Minneapolis were
extremely respectful and seemed honored to do their part.  While talking with
them, I learned that the cargo supervisor for Northwest Airlines at the
Minneapolis airport is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corps Reserves.  They
called him for me and let me talk to him.

Once I was satisfied that all would be okay for the night, I asked one of the
cargo crew if he would take me back to the terminal so that I could catch my
hotel's shuttle.  Instead, he drove me straight to the hotel himself.  At the
hotel, the Lieutenant Colonel called me and said he would personally pick me up
in the morning and bring me back to the cargo area.

Before leaving the airport, I had told the cargo crew that I wanted to come
back to the cargo area in the morning rather than go straight to the passenger
terminal.  I felt bad for leaving Chance overnight and wanted to see the
shipping container where I had left it for the night.  It was fine.

The Lieutenant Colonel made a few phone calls then drove me around to the
passenger terminal.  I was met again by a man from the cargo crew and escorted
down to the tarmac.  The pilot of the plane joined me as I waited for them to
bring Chance from the cargo area.  The pilot and I talked of his service in the
Air Force and how he missed it.

I saluted as Chance was moved up the conveyor and onto the plane.  It was to be
a while before the luggage was to be loaded so the pilot took me up to the
board the plane where I could watch the tarmac from a window.  With no other
passengers yet on board, I talked with the flight attendants and one of the
cargo guys.  He had been in the Navy and one of the attendants had been in the
Air Force.  Everywhere I went, people were continuing to tell me their
relationship to the military.  After all the baggage was aboard, I went back
down to the tarmac, inspected the cargo bay, and watched them secure the door.

When we arrived at Billings, I was again the first off the plane.  This time
Chance's shipping container was the first item out of the cargo hold.  The
funeral director had driven five hours up from Riverton, Wyoming to meet us.
He shook my hand as if I had personally lost a brother.

We moved Chance to a secluded cargo area.  Now it was time for me to remove the
shipping container and drape the flag over the casket.  I had predicted that
this would choke me up but I found I was more concerned with proper flag
etiquette than the solemnity of the moment.  Once the flag was in place, I
stood by and saluted as Chance was loaded onto the van from the funeral home.
I was thankful that we were in a small airport and the event seemed to go
mostly unnoticed.  I picked up my rental car and followed Chance for five hours
until we reached Riverton.  During the long trip I imagined how my meeting with
Chance's parents would go.  I was very nervous about that.

When we finally arrived at the funeral home, I had my first face-to-face
meeting with the Casualty Assistance Call Officer.  It had been his duty to
inform the family of Chance's death.  He was on the Inspector/Instructor staff
of an infantry company in Salt Lake City, Utah and I knew he had had a
difficult week.

Inside I gave the funeral director some of the paperwork from Dover and
discussed the plan for the next day.  The service was to be at 1400 in the high
school gymnasium up in Dubois, population about 900, some 90 miles away.
Eventually, we had covered everything.  The CACO had some items that the family
wanted to be inserted into the casket and I felt I needed to inspect Chance's
uniform to ensure everything was proper.  Although it was going to be a closed
casket funeral, I still wanted to ensure his uniform was squared away.

Earlier in the day I wasn't sure how I'd handle this moment.  Suddenly, the
casket was open and I got my first look at Chance Phelps.  His uniform was
immaculate-a tribute to the professionalism of the Marines at Dover.  I noticed
that he wore six ribbons over his marksmanship badge; the senior one was his
Purple Heart.  I had been in the Corps for over 17 years, including a combat
tour, and was wearing eight ribbons.  This Private First Class, with less than
a year in the Corps, had already earned six.

The next morning, I wore my dress blues and followed the hearse for the trip up
to Dubois.  This was the most difficult leg of our trip for me.  I was bracing
for the moment when I would meet his parents and hoping I would find the right
words as I presented them with Chance's personal effects.

We got to the high school gym about four hours before the service was to begin.
The gym floor was covered with folding chairs neatly lined in rows.  There were
a few townspeople making final preparations when I stood next to the hearse and
saluted as Chance was moved out of the hearse.  The sight of a flag-draped
coffin was overwhelming to some of the ladies.

We moved Chance into the gym to the place of honor.  A Marine sergeant, the
command representative from Chance's battalion, met me at the gym.  His eyes
were watery as he relieved me of watching Chance so that I could go eat lunch
and find my hotel.

At the restaurant, the table had a flier announcing Chance's service.  Dubois
High School gym; two o' clock.  It also said that the family would be accepting
donations so that they could buy flak vests to send to troops in Iraq.

I drove back to the gym at a quarter after one.  I could've walked-you could
walk to just about anywhere in Dubois in ten minutes.  I had planned to find a
quiet room where I could take his things out of their pouch and untangle the
chain of the Saint Christopher medal from the dog tag chains and arrange
everything before his parents came in.  I had twice before removed the items
from the pouch to ensure they were all there-even though there was no chance
anything could've fallen out.  Each time, the two chains had been quite
tangled.  I didn't want to be fumbling around trying to untangle them in front
of his parents.  Our meeting, however, didn't go as expected.
I practically bumped into Chance's step-mom accidentally and our introductions
began in the noisy hallway outside the gym.  In short order I had met Chance's
step-mom and father followed by his step-dad and, at last, his mom.  I didn't
know how to express to these people my sympathy for their loss and my gratitude
for their sacrifice.  Now, however, they were repeatedly thanking me for
bringing their son home and for my service.  I was humbled beyond words.

I told them that I had some of Chance's things and asked if we could try to
find a quiet place.  The five of us ended up in what appeared to be a computer
lab-not what I had envisioned for this occasion.

After we had arranged five chairs around a small table, I told them about our
trip.  I told them how, at every step, Chance was treated with respect,
dignity, and honor.  I told them about the staff at Dover and all the folks at
Northwest Airlines.  I tried to convey how the entire Nation, from Dover to
Philadelphia, to Minneapolis, to Billings, and Riverton expressed grief and
sympathy over their loss.

Finally, it was time to open the pouch.  The first item I happened to pull out
was Chance's large watch.  It was still set to Baghdad time.  Next were the
lanyard and the wooden cross.  Then the dog tags and the Saint Christopher
medal.  This time the chains were not tangled.  Once all of his items were laid
out on the table, I told his mom that I had one other item to give them.  I
retrieved the flight attendant's crucifix from my pocket and told its story.  I
set that on the table and excused myself.  When I next saw Chance's mom, she
was wearing the crucifix on her lapel.
By 1400 most of the seats on the gym floor were filled and people were finding
seats in the fixed bleachers high above the gym floor.  There were a surprising
number of people in military uniform.  Many Marines had come up from Salt Lake
City.  Men from various VFW posts and the Marine Corps League occupied multiple
rows of folding chairs.  We all stood as Chance's family took their seats in
the front.
It turned out the Chance's sister, a Petty Officer in the Navy, worked for a
Rear Admiral-the Chief of Naval Intelligence-at the Pentagon.  The Admiral had
brought many of the sailors on his staff with him to Dubois pay respects to
Chance and support his sister.  After a few songs and some words from a Navy
Chaplain, the Admiral took the microphone and told us how Chance had died.

Chance was an artillery cannoneer and his unit was acting as provisional
military police outside of Baghdad.  Chance had volunteered to man a .50
caliber machine gun in the turret of the leading vehicle in a convoy.  The
convoy came under intense fire but Chance stayed true to his post and returned
fire with the big gun, covering the rest of the convoy, until he was fatally
wounded.

Then the commander of the local VFW post read some of the letters Chance had
written home.  In letters to his mom he talked of the mosquitoes and the heat.
In letters to his stepfather he told of the dangers of convoy operations and of
receiving fire.

The service was a fitting tribute to this hero.  When it was over, we stood as
the casket was wheeled out with the family following.  The casket was placed
onto a horse-drawn carriage for the mile-long trip from the gym, down the main
street, then up the steep hill to the cemetery.  I stood alone and saluted as
the carriage departed the high school.  I found my car and joined Chance's
convoy.

The town seemingly went from the gym to the street.  All along the route, the
people had lined the street and were waving small American flags.  The flags
that were otherwise posted were all at half-staff.  For the last quarter mile
up the hill, local boy scouts, spaced about 20 feet apart, all in uniform, held
large flags.  At the foot of the hill, I could look up and back and see the
enormity of our procession.  I wondered how many people would be at this
funeral if it were in, say, Detroit or Los Angeles-probably not as many as were
here in little Dubois, Wyoming.

The carriage stopped about 15 yards from the grave and the military pall
bearers and the family waited until the men of the VFW and Marine Corps league
were formed up and schools busses had arrived carrying many of the people from
the procession route.  Once the entire crowd was in place, the pallbearers came
to attention and began to remove the casket from the caisson.  As I had done
all week, I came to attention and executed a slow ceremonial salute as Chance
was being transferred from one mode of transport to another.

 From Dover to Philadelphia; Philadelphia to Minneapolis; Minneapolis to
Billings; Billings to Riverton; and Riverton to Dubois we had been together.
Now, as I watched them carry him the final 15 yards, I was choking up.  I felt
that, as long as he was still moving, he was somehow still alive.

Then they put him down above his grave.  He had stopped moving.
Although my mission had been officially complete once I turned him over to the
funeral director at the Billings airport, it was his placement at his grave
that really concluded it in my mind.  Now, he was home to stay and I suddenly
felt at once sad, relieved, and useless.

The chaplain said some words that I couldn't hear and two Marines removed the
flag from the casket and slowly folded it for presentation to his mother.  When
the ceremony was over, Chance's father placed a ribbon from his service in
Vietnam on Chance's casket.  His mother approached the casket and took
something from her blouse and put it on the casket.  I later saw that it was
the flight attendant's crucifix.  Eventually friends of Chance's moved closer
to the grave.  A young man put a can of Coppenhagen on the casket and many
others left flowers.

Finally, we all went back to the gym for a reception.  There was enough food to
feed the entire population for a few days.  In one corner of the gym there was
a table set up with lots of pictures of Chance and some of his sports awards.
People were continually approaching me and the other Marines to thank us for
our service.  Almost all of them had some story to tell about their connection
to the military.  About an hour into the reception, I had the impression that
every man in Wyoming had, at one time or another, been in the service.

It seemed like every time I saw Chance's mom she was hugging a different well
wisher.  As time passed, I began to hear people laughing.  We were starting to
heal.
After a few hours at the gym, I went back to the hotel to change out of my
dress blues.  The local VFW post had invited everyone over to "celebrate
Chance's life."  The Post was on the other end of town from my hotel and the
drive took less than two minutes.  The crowd was somewhat smaller than what had
been at the gym but the Post was packed.

Marines were playing pool at the two tables near the entrance and most of the
VFW members were at the bar or around the tables in the bar area.  The largest
room in the Post was a banquet/dinning/dancing area and it was now called "The
Chance Phelps Room."  Above the entry were two items: a large portrait of
Chance in his dress blues and the Eagle, Globe, & Anchor.  In one corner of the
room there was another memorial to Chance.  There were candles burning around
another picture of him in his blues.  On the table surrounding his photo were
his Purple Heart citation and his Purple Heart medal.  There was also a framed
copy of an excerpt from the Congressional Record.  This was an elegant tribute
to Chance Phelps delivered on the floor of the United States House of
Representatives by Congressman Scott McInnis of Colorado.  Above it all was a
television that was playing a photo montage of Chance's life from small boy to
proud Marine.

I did not buy a drink that night.  As had been happening all day, indeed all
week, people were thanking me for my service and for bringing Chance home.
Now, in addition to words and handshakes, they were thanking me with beer.  I
fell in with the men who had handled the horses and horse-drawn carriage.  I
learned that they had worked through the night to groom and prepare the horses
for Chance's last ride.  They were all very grateful that they were able to
contribute.

After a while we all gathered in the Chance Phelps room for the formal
dedication.  The Post commander told us of how Chance had been so looking
forward to becoming a Life Member of the VFW.  Now, in the Chance Phelps Room
of the Dubois, Wyoming post, he would be an eternal member.  We all raised our
beers and the Chance Phelps room was christened.

Later, as I was walking toward the pool tables, a Staff Sergeant form the
Reserve unit in Salt Lake grabbed me and said, "Sir, you gotta hear this."
There were two other Marines with him and he told the younger one, a Lance
Corporal, to tell me his story.  The Staff Sergeant said the Lance Corporal was
normally too shy and modest to tell it but now he'd had enough beer to overcome
his usual tendencies.

As the Lance Corporal started to talk, an older man joined our circle.  He wore
a baseball cap that indicated he had been with the 1st Marine Division in
Korea.  Earlier in the evening he had told me about one of his former
commanding officers; a Colonel Puller.

So, there I was, standing in a circle with three Marines recently returned from
fighting with the 1st Marine Division in Iraq and one not so recently returned
from fighting with the 1st Marine Division in Korea.  I, who had fought with
the 1st Marine Division in Kuwait, was about to gain a new insight into our
Corps.

The young Lance Corporal began to tell us his story.  At that moment, in this
circle of current and former Marines, the differences in our ages and ranks
dissipated-we were all simply Marines.

His squad had been on a patrol through a city street.  They had taken small
arms fire and had literally dodged an RPG round that sailed between two
Marines.  At one point they received fire from behind a wall and had
neutralized the sniper with a SMAW round.  The back blast of the SMAW, however,
kicked up a substantial rock that hammered the Lance Corporal in the thigh;
only missing his groin because he had reflexively turned his body sideways at
the shot.

Their squad had suffered some wounded and was receiving more sniper fire when
suddenly he was hit in the head by an AK-47 round.  I was stunned as he told us
how he felt like a baseball bat had been slammed into his head.  He had spun
around and fell unconscious.  When he came to, he had a severe scalp wound but
his Kevlar helmet had saved his life.  He continued with his unit for a few
days before realizing he was suffering the effects of a severe concussion.

As I stood there in the circle with the old man and the other Marines, the
Staff Sergeant finished the story.  He told of how this Lance Corporal had
begged and pleaded with the Battalion surgeon to let him stay with his unit.
In the end, the doctor said there was just no way-he had suffered a severe and
traumatic head wound and would have to be med'evaced.

The Marine Corps is a special fraternity.  There are moments when we are
reminded of this.  Interestingly, those moments don't always happen at awards
ceremonies or in dress blues at Birthday Balls.  I have found, rather, that
they occur at unexpected times and places:  next to a loaded moving van at Camp
Lejeune's base housing, in a dirty CP tent in northern Saudi Arabia, and in a
smoky VFW post in western Wyoming.

After the story was done, the Lance Corporal stepped over to the old man, put
his arm over the man's shoulder and told him that he, the Korean War vet, was
his hero.  The two of them stood there with their arms over each other's
shoulders and we were all silent for a moment.  When they let go, I told the
Lance Corporal that there were recruits down on the yellow footprints tonight
that would soon be learning his story.

I was finished drinking beer and telling stories.  I found Chance's father and
shook his hand one more time.  Chance's mom had already left and I deeply
regretted not being able to tell her goodbye.

I left Dubois in the morning before sunrise for my long drive back to Billings.
It had been my honor to take Chance Phelps to his final post.  Now he was on
the high ground overlooking his town.
I miss him.

Regards,
LtCol Strobl


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23585
From: Filksinger" 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:39:22 -0700
Subject: Re: Pons and Flieschmann Get the Last Laugh?
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

I remember a suggestion by Issac Asimov that we might someday find ourselves
travelling to space, not for more room, or rare earths, but for helium from
the gas giants to cool our superconductors. It is, after all, a limited
resource, and any that escapes is irretreveable. We might well discover
that, just as we achieve usable fusion, and solve all our energy problems,
that we just don't have enough left to continue.

Now _that_ would be an unexpected reason to colonize space, wouldn't it?
-- 
Filksinger
AKA David Nasset, Sr.
Geek Prophet to the Technologically Declined


Ed Johnson wrote:
> (Please read Filksinger's explanations below, for problems with room
> temp superconductor).  The ITER coils are wound with a "four degree
> kelvin" superconductor; 4 and a half degrees will be maintained with
> pressure-fed liquid helium.  I think that the scientific community
> is calling the ITER a  'proof of concept' power generator.
> The team that develops a true room temperature superconductor can
> write their own ticket, it seems to me.  Some reading:
>
http://www.apam.columbia.edu/fusion/Presentations_Papers/Andrews_Presentation.pdf
> http://www-fusion-magnetique.cea.fr/gb/actualites/01-0709-tfmc.htm
>
> Ed J
>
>
> On Mon, 12 Apr 2004 14:13:17 -0700, "Filksinger"
> <filksinger@earthling.net> wrote:
>
>> High temperature superconductors can be very finicky, to the point
>> of near uselessness for many applications. There are a number of
>> promising materials, but all have various difficulties. Virtually
>> all materials yet tried have one or more of the problems below, or
>> other, similar problems:
>>
>> Materials are rigid and frangible, and thus difficult to form into
>> wires or to flex them without destroying them.
>>
>> Tendency to fail under magnetic fields. Thus, if you put too much
>> power in them, their own field will shut off superconductivity. This
>> makes them unusable in high-power electromagnets.
>>
>> Tendency to only be superconductive in a particular direction. Thus,
>> the material might be superconductive going right-left, but not
>> up-down. This is combined with a tendency to form domains, each
>> domain having a _different_ direction of superconductivity. These
>> rarely link up in any sort of usable fashion.
>>
>> Material only forms very short tube structures, and thus requires
>> many such threads to form a usable conduit. Unfortunately the
>> material isn't superconductive at the _joints_, so superconductivity
>> is essentially unusable (and so far, not quite proven).
>>
>> The higher the temperature, the more problems. Reports of room
>> temperature superconductivity are still unreproducable and only over
>> small, individual domains.
>>
>> Materials are very difficult to produce to lengths or in quantities
>> that are useful, such as Yttrium-doped buckytubes.
>>
>> For some interesting recent developments:
>>
>> http://physicsweb.org/article/news/7/4/5
>>
>> http://www.spacedaily.com/news/carbon-01h.html
>>
>> http://www.knowledgeproblem.com/archives/000683.html
>>
>> Charles Graft wrote:
>>> Whatever happened to high temperature superconductors?



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23586
From: David Wright" 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 16:05:59 -0400
Subject: Re: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum


"Kevin Patrick Crowley" <kevin.crowley@crowleyenterprises.com> wrote in
message news:408e76ec.0@news.sff.net...
> I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without
comment,
> unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.

(snip most moving letter)

Thank you Kevin for posting this.

I am not ashamed to say that I got very teary over it.

May his memory be Eternal!

David Wright




------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23587
From: Kevin Patrick Crowley 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 15:56:07 -0500
Subject: Re: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

You're welcome.

Kevin

David Wright wrote:
> "Kevin Patrick Crowley" <kevin.crowley@crowleyenterprises.com> wrote in
> message news:408e76ec.0@news.sff.net...
> 
>>I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without
> 
> comment,
> 
>>unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.
> 
> 
> (snip most moving letter)
> 
> Thank you Kevin for posting this.
> 
> I am not ashamed to say that I got very teary over it.
> 
> May his memory be Eternal!
> 
> David Wright
> 
> 
> 

------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23588
From: Lorrita Morgan" 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 15:04:08 -0700
Subject: Re: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Something on Iraq worth reading and forwarding (minus any email addresses of
course.)

Thank you for sharing.

-- 
=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

`rita
=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=
"Kevin Patrick Crowley" <kevin.crowley@crowleyenterprises.com> wrote in
message news:408e76ec.0@news.sff.net...
> I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without
comment,
> unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.
><<touching letter deleted>>



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23589
From: Filksinger" 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 16:13:55 -0700
Subject: See the World in a New and Different Light!
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Technology for painting images on the inside of your eyeball is finally
coming into its own. It is now in use by physicians and mechanics.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/3647437.stm

Since current versions fit over one eye, this means that the primary reason
for not doing full-fledged 3D is cost and applications requiring it. In
addition, lasers, guided by computer, could conceivably be aimed at your
eyeballs from a distance. This means that, in the not too distant future, it
will be possible that two people standing next to each other might well see
two entirely different worlds, possibly even without funny glasses.

I see this as a great boon to the crazy people. Soon, you won't be able to
tell the difference between the crazy man, and the guy who really _does_ see
hobgoblins.:)

-- 
Filksinger
AKA David Nasset, Sr.
Geek Prophet to the Technologically Declined



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23590
From: JT 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 19:26:48 -0400
Subject: Re: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:06:00 -0500, Kevin Patrick Crowley
<kevin.crowley@crowleyenterprises.com> wrote:

>I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without comment,
>unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.
>

Such a moving story.  I was prepared to find out the worst and that it
was listed on snopes.com as a hoax of some sort, but I am pleased in
the end that it wasn't.  Now we can truly be honoring his memory.

A little googling turned up a picture of this fallen hero in the
article referenced at:
http://www.mccookgazette.com/story/1066773.html

They also list that Memorials may be given to the Chance Phelps
memorial fund in care of Gretchen Mack, PO Box 186, Riverton, WY
82501.

JT

------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23591
From: JT 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 19:28:21 -0400
Subject: Re: Pons and Flieschmann Get the Last Laugh?
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:39:22 -0700, "Filksinger"
<filksinger@earthling.net> wrote:

>I remember a suggestion by Issac Asimov that we might someday find ourselves
>travelling to space, not for more room, or rare earths, but for helium from
>the gas giants to cool our superconductors. It is, after all, a limited
>resource, and any that escapes is irretreveable. We might well discover
>that, just as we achieve usable fusion, and solve all our energy problems,
>that we just don't have enough left to continue.
>
>Now _that_ would be an unexpected reason to colonize space, wouldn't it?

The worst of it would be having to admit that Asimov was right about
something. ;)

JT

------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23592
From: Filksinger" 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 17:30:22 -0700
Subject: Re: Pons and Flieschmann Get the Last Laugh?
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

JT wrote:
> On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:39:22 -0700, "Filksinger"
> <filksinger@earthling.net> wrote:
<snip>
>
> The worst of it would be having to admit that Asimov was right about
> something. ;)
>
> JT

Asimov wasn't so bad once you realized that his overblown ego was just an
act.

Not that I agreed with him often, on matters of opinion, that is.

-- 
David Nasset, Sr.
Infoconex Online Services
(877) 305-5146



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23593
From: Kevin Patrick Crowley 
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 2004 22:52:06 -0500
Subject: Re: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

I spent about an hour checking on it before I posted it anywhere.  As it 
seemed legit I did so.  It was so well written.

Kevin

JT wrote:
> On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:06:00 -0500, Kevin Patrick Crowley
> <kevin.crowley@crowleyenterprises.com> wrote:
> 
> 
>>I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without comment,
>>unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.
>>
> 
> 
> Such a moving story.  I was prepared to find out the worst and that it
> was listed on snopes.com as a hoax of some sort, but I am pleased in
> the end that it wasn't.  Now we can truly be honoring his memory.
> 
> A little googling turned up a picture of this fallen hero in the
> article referenced at:
> http://www.mccookgazette.com/story/1066773.html
> 
> They also list that Memorials may be given to the Chance Phelps
> memorial fund in care of Gretchen Mack, PO Box 186, Riverton, WY
> 82501.
> 
> JT

------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23594
From: RAHFAN" 
Date: Wed, 28 Apr 2004 10:11:45 -0500
Subject: Re: Pons and Flieschmann Get the Last Laugh?
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum


"Filksinger" <filksinger@earthling.net> wrote in message
news:408e9b27.0@news.sff.net...
> I remember a suggestion by Issac Asimov that we might someday find
ourselves
> travelling to space, not for more room, or rare earths, but for
helium from
> the gas giants to cool our superconductors. It is, after all, a
limited
> resource, and any that escapes is irretreveable. We might well
discover
> that, just as we achieve usable fusion, and solve all our energy
problems,
> that we just don't have enough left to continue.
>
> Now _that_ would be an unexpected reason to colonize space,
wouldn't it?

Especially if we had developed reliable fusion.  Hydrogen being
"below" helium on the chart and all.

The question would then be, "Would it be cheaper to attempt to
design a process in which we reap the helium from the fusion
process, or to pull it out of a large gravity well and ship it
accross the soloar system?"

RAHFAN



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23595
From: Ed Johnson 
Date: Wed, 28 Apr 2004 23:49:34 -0400
Subject: Re: Had to share this.
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Kevin:  Thank you for posting this.
  Would you mind if I sent it off to a few close friends?
Especially my friends who are retired USMC officers.

Ed J

On Tue, 27 Apr 2004 10:06:00 -0500, Kevin Patrick Crowley
<kevin.crowley@crowleyenterprises.com> wrote:

>I received this lengthy letter via newsletter, and forward it without comment,
>unedited and with introductory paragraph as received.
>
>"TAKING CHANCE"
>As it was sent to my friend Steve, I am now sending it to you all. This is the
>side of a war that pulls the emotions in many directions, but keeps more than
>enough pride to get us through. I was more than touched by this and there is
>long reason why. Passing my personal  to the Col. and for PFC Chance, May he
>rest in Peace.
   <snip>
>I left Dubois in the morning before sunrise for my long drive back to Billings.
>It had been my honor to take Chance Phelps to his final post.  Now he was on
>the high ground overlooking his town.
>I miss him.
>
>Regards,
>LtCol Strobl


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23596
From: filksinger@earthling.net
Date: 30 Apr 2004 02:53:16 GMT
Subject: Re: Pons and Flieschmann Get the Last Laugh?
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Absolutely, unless we are talking about very powerful yet inefficient generators
to produce the helium. The amount of helium produced by these plants is
tiny, because very little actual fusion is required to produce large quantities
of energy.

Filksinger

RAHFAN wrote,

The question would then be, "Would it be cheaper to attempt to
design a process in which we reap the helium from the fusion
process, or to pull it out of a large gravity well and ship it
accross the soloar system?"

------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23597
From: William J. Keaton" 
Date: Fri, 30 Apr 2004 23:20:55 -0400
Subject: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Chronicle is reporting that David Reynolds (screenplay for Finding Nemo)
will write the screenplay for Warner Bros. David Heyman (Harry Potter) is
listed as producer. A further web search shows a 2005 production date and a
2006 release.

No word on director or cast yet.

WJaKe



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23598
From: William J. Keaton" 
Date: Sun, 2 May 2004 00:25:17 -0400
Subject: Spy vs. Spy
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

This was in a magazine I get at work, Federal Computer Week. A little look
behind the scenes at Cold War era spysmanship:

http://www.fcw.com/fcw/articles/2004/0426/feat-strange-04-26-04.asp

WJaKe



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23599
From: Ed Johnson 
Date: Sun, 02 May 2004 18:54:00 -0400
Subject: Re: Spy vs. Spy
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Jake:
   Thanks: this Cold-War era stuff is fascinating!

Ed J

On Sun, 2 May 2004 00:25:17 -0400, "William J. Keaton"
<wjake@prodigy.net> wrote:

>This was in a magazine I get at work, Federal Computer Week. A little look
>behind the scenes at Cold War era spysmanship:
>
>http://www.fcw.com/fcw/articles/2004/0426/feat-strange-04-26-04.asp
>
>WJaKe
>


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23600
From: RPostelnek" 
Date: Mon, 3 May 2004 00:02:59 -0500
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum


WJake,

I'm tired and can't figure it out right now, but what is HSSWT?

Rosie
"William J. Keaton" <wjake@prodigy.net> wrote in message
news:40931743.0@news.sff.net...
> Chronicle is reporting that David Reynolds (screenplay for Finding Nemo)
> will write the screenplay for Warner Bros. David Heyman (Harry Potter) is
> listed as producer. A further web search shows a 2005 production date and
a
> 2006 release.
>
> No word on director or cast yet.
>
> WJaKe
>
>



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23601
From: cdozo 
Date: Mon, 03 May 2004 00:30:15 -0500
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum


Have Space Suit Will Travel

Carol
=====

On Mon, 3 May 2004 00:02:59 -0500, "RPostelnek"
<rpostelnek@prodigy.net> wrote:

>
>WJake,
>
>I'm tired and can't figure it out right now, but what is HSSWT?
>
>Rosie
>"William J. Keaton" <wjake@prodigy.net> wrote in message
>news:40931743.0@news.sff.net...
>> Chronicle is reporting that David Reynolds (screenplay for Finding Nemo)
>> will write the screenplay for Warner Bros. David Heyman (Harry Potter) is
>> listed as producer. A further web search shows a 2005 production date and
>a
>> 2006 release.
>>
>> No word on director or cast yet.
>>
>> WJaKe
>>
>>
>


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23602
From: Bill Dauphin 
Date: Mon, 03 May 2004 20:05:42 -0400
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Don't feel bad, Rosie; I couldn't think of it either, even though I just
recently re-read _Have Spacesuit, Will Travel_!  (Thanks for cluing us in,
Carol.)

-JovBill

On 5/3/04 1:02 AM, in article 4095d288.0@news.sff.net, "RPostelnek"
<rpostelnek@prodigy.net> wrote:

> 
> WJake,
> 
> I'm tired and can't figure it out right now, but what is HSSWT?
> 
> Rosie
> "William J. Keaton" <wjake@prodigy.net> wrote in message
> news:40931743.0@news.sff.net...
>> Chronicle is reporting that David Reynolds (screenplay for Finding Nemo)
>> will write the screenplay for Warner Bros. David Heyman (Harry Potter) is
>> listed as producer. A further web search shows a 2005 production date and
> a
>> 2006 release.
>> 
>> No word on director or cast yet.
>> 
>> WJaKe
>> 
>> 
> 
> 


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23603
From: Filksinger" 
Date: Mon, 3 May 2004 19:34:11 -0700
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

I had the same problem, even though this was my first Heinlein, and probably
still my favorite among the juveniles. (Thanks, Carol.:)

-- 
Filksinger
AKA David Nasset, Sr.
Geek Prophet to the Technologically Declined


"RPostelnek" <rpostelnek@prodigy.net> wrote in message
news:4095d288.0@news.sff.net...
>
> WJake,
>
> I'm tired and can't figure it out right now, but what is HSSWT?
>
> Rosie
> "William J. Keaton" <wjake@prodigy.net> wrote in message
> news:40931743.0@news.sff.net...
> > Chronicle is reporting that David Reynolds (screenplay for Finding Nemo)
> > will write the screenplay for Warner Bros. David Heyman (Harry Potter)
is
> > listed as producer. A further web search shows a 2005 production date
and
> a
> > 2006 release.
> >
> > No word on director or cast yet.
> >
> > WJaKe
> >
> >
>
>



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23604
From: cdozo 
Date: Mon, 03 May 2004 22:18:26 -0500
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum


I've been reading it to my kid, so the title was in my mind. Also, I'd
heard rumors about a possible HSSWT film.

Carol

------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23605
From: William J. Keaton" 
Date: Tue, 4 May 2004 00:57:21 -0400
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

It's what I get for being a bit lazy! Apologies to anyone I confused, thanks
to all who cleared it up! This was also my First Heinlein, so I always
recognize it.

Now we can have the English Language Lesson:

Should it be Space Suit = HSSWT
or
Spacesuit = HSWT

Bowing out now....

WJaKe



------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23606
From: Ed Johnson 
Date: Tue, 04 May 2004 23:11:51 -0400
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

WJake:   Let's see; there's Union Suit, Law Suit, Jump Suit, - no
reason why there can't be a Space Suit ;-)

On the other hand, Starship seems to be one word. 
(Steamship Line e.g.)

Ed J

On Tue, 4 May 2004 00:57:21 -0400, "William J. Keaton"
<wjake@prodigy.net> wrote:

>It's what I get for being a bit lazy! Apologies to anyone I confused, thanks
>to all who cleared it up! This was also my First Heinlein, so I always
>recognize it.
>
>Now we can have the English Language Lesson:
>
>Should it be Space Suit = HSSWT
>or
>Spacesuit = HSWT
>
>Bowing out now....
>
>WJaKe
>


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23607
From: Bill Dauphin 
Date: Wed, 05 May 2004 17:19:46 -0400
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

On 5/4/04 11:11 PM, in article aimg90ds26r5l3cbajof0vlvrtton1ln66@4ax.com,
"Ed Johnson" <eljohn2@comcast.spamthis.net> wrote:

> WJake:   Let's see; there's Union Suit, Law Suit, Jump Suit, - no
> reason why there can't be a Space Suit ;-)

"Lawsuit" is one word, unless you're talking about what an attorney wears to
court. <g>

> 
> On the other hand, Starship seems to be one word.
> (Steamship Line e.g.)

Take it from someone who does this for a living, the
one-word/two-word/hyphenated distinction is all art and no science at all:
It is what it is... and what it is depends on what the head editor/style
guide says it is, which might be different from place to place.

A fellow techwriter... er, tech writer... of mine once replied, when an
author challenged him on why we spell "bolthole" as one word, "Well, how do
you spell @sshole?" Just so!  ;^)

-JovBill


------------------------------------------------------------
Article 23608
From: Ed Johnson 
Date: Wed, 05 May 2004 22:50:05 -0400
Subject: Re: HSSWT News
Newsgroups: sff.discuss.heinlein-forum

Bill:   And you didn't even blink at Union Suit ;-)


Ed J

On Wed, 05 May 2004 17:19:46 -0400, Bill Dauphin
<dauphinb@ix.netcom.com> wrote:

>On 5/4/04 11:11 PM, in article aimg90ds26r5l3cbajof0vlvrtton1ln66@4ax.com,
>"Ed Johnson" <eljohn2@comcast.spamthis.net> wrote:
>
>> WJake:   Let's see; there's Union Suit, Law Suit, Jump Suit, - no
>> reason why there can't be a Space Suit ;-)
>
>"Lawsuit" is one word, unless you're talking about what an attorney wears to
>court. <g>
>
>> 
>> On the other hand, Starship seems to be one word.
>> (Steamship Line e.g.)
>
>Take it from someone who does this for a living, the
>one-word/two-word/hyphenated distinction is all art and no science at all:
>It is what it is... and what it is depends on what the head editor/style
>guide says it is, which might be different from place to place.
>
>A fellow techwriter... er, tech writer... of mine once replied, when an
>author challenged him on why we spell "bolthole" as one word, "Well, how do
>you spell @sshole?" Just so!  ;^)
>
>-JovBill


------------------------------------------------------------

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