thedaysf

Jun 14 2016

Who, What or Where? – 1972

My sister, Dotty, three years behind me in school, wound up being on two TV quiz shows, “Jeopardy” in 1970 and “Who, What, Or Where” in 1972. I was instrumental in getting her to apply to the first, and there’s a very cute story involving me on the second.

I knew that I was going to be assigned to Viet Nam after Airborne, Ranger, Engineer Officer Basic Course, and a few months stateside with an Engineer Battalion at Fort Meade. I also realized that I would not be as good a contestant of the daytime TV show “Jeopardy” as Dotty would be. I was a numbers man, with lots of courses in math and science, and that show was more for liberal arts majors. She was high school valedictorian and majored in English at Princeton. I was sure the “Jeopardy” folks would also like the fact that she was a very pretty red-head. So I wrote for the application. When it came, I said to my sister that there wasn’t enough time for me to try-out and be on the show, so she should use the application instead of me.

WWW2 — **The Who, What, or Where Game Logo**

She sent in the application and I went to Viet Nam. Sure enough, she was on for four shows. I got to see three of the shows when I got home, because they had been videotaped. The first one had not been. It was a lot of fun seeing my own sister on the videotape of the TV show, set up in our living room. She didn’t win a lot of money, because she never got the Final Jeopardy answer correct, but it was quite an experience for her. All told, she won $1,740. Besides money, she also received a case of Mogen David wine, and a set of the Encyclopedia International. I sampled the wine, and she didn’t want the books so I had them for years.

“Jeopardy” was on at 12 Noon in our time zone. On her own, she decided to apply to another show, “”Who, What, Or Where”. This followed at 12:30PM.

Most people know “Jeopardy” because it’s still on, the original host, Art Fleming being succeeded by Alex Trebek. The other show didn’t have a long run, so I need to explain how it worked. The contestants were each given a hundred dollars. Then a category was announced. Let’s say, for example, it was Thomas Jefferson. A “Who” question might be: Who was President when Jefferson was Vice-President?” (It might be any number of other questions, too.) A “What” question could be “What famous document did he write in 1776?” A “Where” question could be “He founded a University. Where is it located?”

WWW3 — **Contestants Competing for the Prize on Who, What or Where Game**

No one knew beforehand just what questions would be asked, and some of them were even-odds, and some might be 2-for-1 or even 3-for-1, meaning if you got it right, you got more money than you bet. Once the category was announced, the three contestants placed bets. If all three bet on different categories, each got to answer a question in that round. But if two or all three bet on the same question, only the top bidder was able to able to continue, and the others were out of luck in that round.

In 1972 I was a Captain, commanding Company D, 43^rd Engineer Battalion in the Harmony Church area of Ft. Benning, GA. Usually, I ate in the Battalion Mess Hall at lunch time, or continued working as I ate a bag lunch in my office. But one day I went into the nearest barracks, which we had just converted into two person rooms, doing the work ourselves as a part of the new VOLAR (all-volunteer Army. From 1940 to 1973, the United States required all young men, 18-25, to be registered with the Selective Service System. In this way, the Army could call up men to join the Army when needed. In 1973, after the Vietnam War years, the Army began to use only those who volunteered to serve.) Final Jeopardy was just concluding for that day’s show.

Jeopardy 70s — **Art Fleming on Jeopardy Game Shows in the 1970’s**

This was lunch time, of course, Noon to 1PM. There were five soldiers in the room watching “Jeopardy”. One questioned what I was doing there. I, in turn, asked if they were going to watch “Who? What? Or Where?” next. They replied that they were. I announced that my sister was going to be on the show, and asked if I could watch with them. They didn’t believe me, but several minutes later, out walked Dotty Jannarone. Immediately, the word spread. And then, of course, soon after came the plaintive cry, “Oh, Sir, in honor of your sister being on TV, can we have the afternoon off?” I had no authority to grant such a request, but I said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. If she wins,” and I hesitated, “a thousand dollars, I’ll let everybody have the afternoon off.” So she answered a few questions right, so did the others, and going into the final round she had $645. In the final round, she was outbid by one of the other contestants, so she couldn’t compete, and had to settle for that amount. When the show was over, I said “OK, men, let’s go out for afternoon formation.”

No one ever caught on that the show was taped a month before, and I knew all along what she would win.

Dec 22 2015

Bob Hope – 1970

The kick-off for the Bob Hope USO tour in 1970 was at West Point on December 15. Since my dad was the Dean of the Academic board, one of three generals on the post, my mom and dad got to meet him after the show. Mom mentioned that two of her sons were in Viet Nam, so he said he would get them together for Christmas, and asked for their names and addresses. She thought nothing of it, and didn’t tell us.

Bob Hope arriving in Vietnam with his signature golf club.

Lo and behold, on December 23, an Army Major showed up at Danang where my brother Jack (USMA ’65), an Air Force pilot, was stationed. He was supposed to get my brother to Bien Hoa airbase the next day, for the show on Christmas Day. My brother, a Captain, went to his Commanding Officer with the Major, related the situation, and the CO said, “Well, if Bob Hope says so, I guess we better do it.” There was no provision for in-country leave, but a plane with my brother on it left Danang for Bien Hoa the next day.

Also on December 23, a civilian came to Xuan Loc where I was an Engineer Platoon Leader, a First Lieutenant, in the 25^th Infantry Division. He explained that there was one seat left on a chartered aircraft from Tan Son Nhut Airport, (Saigon), to JFK in New York, and if someone wanted to, he could take leave, pay the airfare, and go home for Christmas. I asked the junior enlisted soldiers first, then the Squad Leaders, then the Platoon Sergeant. I turned to the man and said that no one wanted to go. Immediately the Squad Leaders and Platoon Sergeant insisted that I go. They said that there was no need to be a hero. We had no missions, and all we would be doing is pulling Motor Stables (vehicle maintenance). Reluctantly, I agreed.

I left the next morning for the flight. I flew to JFK and was met there by my sister-in-law, Jack’s wife, who was, with other waiting wives, living at Stewart Air Force Base.

Soldiers enjoying the Bob Hope Show 1970

She drove me to West Point. I rang the back doorbell at 2:00 AM Christmas Day. My youngest sister came to the door, saw me, and screamed “Bobby’s home”. I went upstairs to my bedroom. When my mother saw me, she fainted. It was a wonderful Christmas.

I had to go back on New Year’s Eve. We left about 10PM heading west to an airbase near Anchorage, AK for refueling. The crew had hats, whistles and confetti for the New Year’s celebration on board. We went through several time zones, moving the clock back each time, so we never got to midnight before refueling. We got off, and saw the Northern Lights. Once back on board, and still before midnight, I and most all the passengers fell asleep instantly. I was awakened by a stewardess who handed me a breakfast tray. We were somewhere over the Pacific under a clear blue sky and had crossed the International Date Line. It was now January 2. I had missed New Year’s Day.

When I got back to my unit, the Platoon Sergeant said someone came looking for me an hour after I left. The man didn’t say who he was, or why he was looking for me. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

I didn’t know Jack’s part in this until the next Christmas, when I saw him for the first time since he had come home from Viet Nam, and he related what had happened to him, and I pieced together the rest.

It turns out that an hour after I left on the 24th, someone from the USO tour came to get me. Finding that I had left, he called back to Saigon, who called Danang, who radioed the plane in the air and had it return to Danang.

Unwittingly I had spoiled Bob Hope’s plan to get us together for Christmas. It’s no wonder that he never spoke to me for the rest of his life.

Oct 21 2015

The First Jump – 1969

The first place I went after West Point was Airborne School at Fort Benning, Georgia. This was a three week course. The first week was mostly the mechanics of something called “parachute landing falls” done over and over and over from a two foot platform. These were interspersed with group exercises and a daily run of two miles or more. The second week was Tower Week. First was a thirty four foot tower done innumerable times. Late in the week a two hundred and fifty foot tower was employed three times. The third week was Jump Week. There were five jumps in all. Four were from a C-130 aircraft, which is a propeller driven plane. One of those jumps, the fourth overall, was to be done in full field gear including a rifle. The fifth jump was from a jet—in my case a C-141. All of these jumps were from one thousand two hundred and fifty feet.

Back on the ground as the rest of the stick floats down — **Back on the Ground as the Rest of the “Stick” Floats Down**

The whole idea of the course is that everything should be done without thinking. I recall one of the sergeants running the course saying “the trouble with legs (non-airborne troops) is that they think.” I thought to myself, what is wrong with thinking. What indeed.

At the first command, “Stand Up,” the sequence should start. Hook Up, Shuffle to the Door, Assume the Ready Position, Hit It, Leap into the air assuming a tight body position with the chin down, hands on the reserve parachute, feet and knees together should all be automatic. At the count of four, see that your canopy was fully deployed. Just before landing pull up on the parachute and execute a parachute landing fall, landing on the five points of contact. Again, all this should be done without thinking.

Each side of a plane had a door, through which static lines were attached. These lines were about thirty feet long, and these made the parachutes deploy. We didn’t pull ripcords. Each plane then had two sticks (A group of parachutists jumping from the same exit door of an aircraft on the same drop zone.) of troops, half the planeload.

When your stick was complete, that group was dismissed and could go to the ice cream truck. That is, when everyone had landed, furled the parachute in the aviator’s kit bag that he brought with him, ran to the assembly area, unpacked the parachute, put it on a long pole and then very carefully folded it back up, moved to that stick’s area, put the aviator’s kit bag down with the reserve parachute on top of it, and stood at parade rest, then your group could be dismissed.

For the first jump, the day arrived hot and muggy. We were up early, it was a long wait for our plane to arrive and the reserve parachute made a comfortable pillow, so most of us dozed on the tarmac waiting for our plane. Finally, we loaded up. Away we went, and then came the command “Stand Up.” I was first out on one side of the plane. So I hooked up, shuffled to the door, and stood at the ready position, the jump master at my side. But for some reason the plane made a circle of the area and then came around for a second time. Meanwhile, the jump master kept pushing me out the side and then pulling me back.

Finally he said “Hit It” and away I went. At three seconds the canopy fully opened. Before I looked up I had to adjust my helmet, because it had slid down to cover my eyes. But there it was.

Moving through the air was one of the most peaceful feelings I have ever experienced. There was no sound, and no feeling of falling through the air. The ground stretched below me like a painting. Then there was an almost imperceptible feeling that I was creeping ever so slowly towards that ground.

Or was I? It didn’t take long before I wasn’t so sure that I was going down. For a few seconds, I thought that I wasn’t going down or up. But then, very definitely, I was going up.

And then the next plane came. I was maybe one hundred feet below it as it roared by, and then paratroopers jumped out, and soon were all around me. One of them collided with the side of my parachute and then went on by me.

Taking the plunge — **Taking the Plunge**

By this time, I thought again, what was wrong with thinking? I was caught in an updraft. Others had no problem, but I was the lightest person there, and I was moving away from the Drop Zone, too. In fact, I was in danger of landing in Alabama instead of Georgia. It might even be that I would land in the Chattahoochee River, the boundary between them. I had visions of snapping the quick release buttons on the parachute just before entering the water.

What I did do was to pull on one of the risers that extend down from the parachute. I saw quickly that I had gone too far, as part of the parachute collapsed. I quickly let go, and up I went again. I tried a second time, with the same result. But the third time, I got the hang of it, and even came a little closer to the Drop Zone, although I was still a long way away.

By this time, the other stick of troops from my plane was long since gone. Two other plane loads of troops were also down. But the other troops from my stick had to wait for me. As I got to maybe two hundred and fifty feet from the ground, a chorus of people started yelling at me, “Get down here, Jannarone.”

I did.

I had a Fudgsicle.

There were supposed to be two jumps in Ranger School, but one was canceled because of high winds. The other one should have been, too, but wasn’t, and everyone landed in or very close to a stand of pine trees. We jumped after dusk, and couldn’t see the drop zone well, anyway, but I was also turned around compared to where I was going. I tried to turn my chute, but didn’t figure out how to do that. Every time I used the risers to turn my body, the chute didn’t turn as well, and I kept going backwards. So I kept turning my head to see what was ahead. When I landed, my chute was stuck in a pine tree, and only my feet had touched the ground. It took a good half hour to climb up the tree and untangle the chute from the branches.

Six jumps in all, that’s my experience with jumping out of airplanes.

Oct 13 2015

Stuck on Ice – 1987

Preparing to launch from McMurdo Sound — **Preparing to Launch from McMurdo Sound**

In February of 1987 I was on assignment to the Office of the Secretary of Defense with duty as a manager with the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) for their program for Nuclear Detection Technologies. One of my projects was a space shuttle payload to test the effectiveness of some new detector materials in space. The Challenger accident had only recently occurred and all space shuttle flights were on hold indefinitely. On the 24th of that month, the brightest supernova in over 600 years was suddenly seen in the deep southern sky. Because its location was only a few degrees from the South Pole it could be seen only in the Southern Hemisphere. Here, at last, was a chance for the first experimental verification of the theory that the heavier elements on earth were born of supernovae.
The radioactivity from the supernova that would prove this theory was decaying rapidly, and would not be detectable for much more than a year. I made the case with DARPA, the National Science Foundation, the Office of the Secretary of Defense, the Navy’s Office of Scientific Research, the Air Force Space Command, and NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center that we should try to launch our space shuttle payload from Antarctica instead, carried by an 11 million cubic foot helium balloon to an altitude of more than 120,000 feet at the very edge of space. Only there would the radiation from the supernova be detectable. Nothing like this had ever been done in Antarctica. We would need to start design and construction of the balloon gondola and integration of the payload right away. The logistics of performing all the testing and getting all the required equipment to “the Ice” were daunting. Just getting approval for the required funding quickly enough was almost unheard of. But with the wholehearted commitment of scientists and management from a number of widely diverse organizations we got it all done, and were ready to launch from McMurdo Sound in January, 1988.
I participated as one of the principal scientists, having written the software that would process and analyze the data. The launch from McMurdo Sound was successful. Two days later, flying in a NSF aircraft beneath the balloon not far from the South Pole, we decided to send the radio commands to fire the explosive bolts that would cut the parachute free from the balloon. We circled until the gondola and payload came to rest, and as it did we video-taped the shadows in the ice surface so we could determine if it would be safe to return and land there, being mindful of the deep and wide crevices that may be hidden by ice bridges. After careful study of the video back at base, the decision to return for recovery was a “go”. The Navy VXE6 Squadron flew the mission and was in overall command; I would be the ground commander. Our aircraft was an LC-130 (“L” meaning it was fitted with skis to land on snow and ice). Because we would be landing at 11,000 feet on the polar plateau, we needed to fly as light as possible to assure takeoff. We took the only aircraft with no external fuel tanks, because it was lighter than the others. There would be no chance to get help from ground support, so while on the ice the engines would be left running with feathered propellers. I was told I would have only two hours for my crew of eight to recover the payload and secure it for takeoff. I had only three days to train my crew and practice for the mission. It would be windy, cold, and noisy with poor visibility so we had to have our jobs down by heart — extracting the lithium batteries, dumping the ballast, releasing the chute, and venting any remaining liquid nitrogen. A Navy corpsman was included in the team whose job was to give us each a breath of oxygen every five minutes while on the ground, as we had just come from near sea level. We had a “Plan B” to ditch some of the less important items in case we were to be given only one hour for some reason.

Landings on the polar ice were known always to be extremely rough — it almost never snows there, and the sun bakes the surface into hard, wavy ridges. However, to everyone’s surprise, we touched down to a smooth landing. It had snowed, and no one had expected it. This created a formidable problem: the snow would add drag to the skis that would make takeoff as planned impossible. The plane would have to make its own runway by going back and forth over its own tracks to pack down the snow, and this would consume precious fuel.

With “Plan B” in place, we had the payload back in the aircraft ready to go in just less than 60 minutes. But, even after going over our own tracks for takeoff six times, we couldn’t get off the ground. The pilot would get as much takeoff speed as possible with the flaps up for less drag and then put them down suddenly for lift, but this only pushed the nose hard into the snow and prevented takeoff. Dumping the payload and failing in our mission seemed to be the only solution. But there was one other option we could try — if my crew of eight and I were to crawl up into the tail near the rudder with one cargo strap as a makeshift seatbelt for all of us, the weight of our bodies might help lift the nose of the plane at the critical time to get airborne. Needless to say, this was not normal procedure and would be somewhat risky, but it was our only option for success.

The Site of Recovery was Roughly between the South Pole and Argus Dome

I gathered my crew, who were mostly civilian scientists, and let them know that if any one of them didn’t agree we would not do it and there would be no regrets. They all agreed. After two more long takeoff tries, we finally got off the ground, with just enough fuel to make it back. Back at base we analyzed the data and found conclusive proof of the theory that the genesis of the heavy elements was indeed in supernovae. Not only were the science objectives accomplished, but also the Department of Defense objectives of testing the new detector materials for use in space were accomplished better than they could have been accomplished in any other way, because the instrumentation had performed well while flying through the harsh radiation environment of the South Magnetic Pole. The success of this mission was due to the efforts and support of a great number of people from many organizations, and it was wonderful to see what Americans can get done when things have to be done and chances have to be taken.

Mission Success and safely back to McMurdo Sound

Sep 08 2015

The COL Patrick Madigan Foundation – 1995

In the early 1990’s it was becoming clear to a group of doctors and other medical professionals that there were many needs at Madigan Army Medical Center at Ft. Lewis, Washington that were going unanswered. There was no extra money to address these problems and no one to call on to try to help those in need. So was born the idea of creating an organization that could help the individual soldier and their families when they found themselves without the resources they needed.

The COL Patrick Madigan Foundation was incorporated in April 1995 in Washington State and recognized as a 501 (c) 3 organization by the IRS. I am one of the original board members and the third president. It was set up to help provide for unmet needs at Madigan Army Medical Center at Fort Lewis (now JBLM, Joint Base Lewis McChord), Washington. Its mission since founded has been to support patients, families, staff, research and education. It is the first foundation established to support a military medical center. The Foundation is a Combined Federal Campaign (CFC) recipient and has given over a million dollars to support the mission with help from grateful patients, their families, and corporate donor support. Helping over 3,000 people per year, the Madigan Foundation has made contributions to support the Warrior Transition Battalion since 9/11, mostly to wounded warriors.

Seeing the many needs of military families, the Madigan Foundation has provided for military children with special needs like the Young Heroes program to include 4 annual college scholarships for 4 years to children with disabilities, and the Vision Support Program which provides special glasses to those children qualifying. Specialized equipment for children to make them more mobile and strollers and car seats to over 300 young enlisted families have been provided. Nursing mothers of hospitalized infants are given hundreds of meals annually, and a breast pump program for active duty mothers lead to it being adopted by the Department of the Army. Respite care for families with disabled children and child care vouchers for mothers and families getting medical care or counseling are ongoing services provided. Dental screening has been provided the past 2 years to 3 local elementary schools for almost a thousand military dependent children. Cancer patients and their families are supported as is a breast garment program and information kiosks. Residents are provided with meals while working overnight, a requirement of the residency training programs; and exercise equipment for them to use while working after hours has been made available. Meals have been provided for those who were fasting in the Emergency Room until allowed to eat when food service was not available and taxi service provided for those brought in by ambulance when transportation home is needed.

Madigan Army Hospital, Joint Base Lewis - McChord, WA — Madigan Army Hospital, Joint Base Lewis – McChord, WA

To assist and recognize the Madigan Hospital staff, the Traumatic Brain Initiative Program, the first in DOD, has been supported along with training and research needs that might never be funded. Outstanding research is awarded annually to a graduating fellow, the annual research day and the annual MG Jack Gamble lectureship on military medicine are also supported. Nurses are appreciated with an annual award and scholarship.

The presidents of the Madigan Foundation have been LTG William Harrison, MG Jack Gamble, myself, COL Dick Hoffmeister, MG Les Burger, COL Al Buck, and MG Burger consecutively, all retired military. All of these individuals have been instrumental in offering their time and energy to the welfare of so many soldiers and their families assigned Ft. Lewis/McChord Air Force Base. Working with them to support the active duty and retired men and women working at and treated at Madigan along with their families has been quite gratifying to each of us. The thankfulness of those who the Madigan Foundation has helped continues to be a source of great satisfaction. The website, Madiganfoundation.org provides more information and is updated frequently.