USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. (DDG-121) commissioned in Charleston last weekend

[kingofnerf]

We touched on the namesakes of Navy ships during last year's football countdown.

VIDEO: Navy Commissions Destroyer USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. - USNI News

The Navy commissioned its 71st Arleigh Burke-class destroyer Saturday in Charleston, S.C., on Saturday. USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. (DDG-121), which is named in honor of Lt. Gen. Frank Petersen, the first Black Marine aviator and three-star general, will be based at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam...

news.usni.org

The Right Stuff in real time.

View: https://youtu.be/usDftlSeeSQ

The world has always been a difficult place, but the Navy and Marine Corps have always prevailed. Some things never change.

Ooh-rah!!

 

[kingofnerf]

Ship Commissioning Honors First African-American Marine Aviator

The first African American Marine aviator is honored with a ship named for him, the USS Frank E. Petersen Jr. (DDG-121)

www.usni.org

Petersen stands in front of an F4U Corsair like the ones that he flew in Korea.

The article contains an excerpt from a book Petersen wrote about his experiences.

"In mid-1950, the North Koreans attacked across the demilitarized zone, and America was at war again. By 1951, the black Marine population increased some 400 percent, to a high of 8,001 enlisted men and three officers. Combat necessity caused integration to be carried out at such a rapid rate that by the summer of 1952, the Corps had disbanded the last of its black units. The Corps, the last service to integrate, became one of the first to eliminate overt segregation from its ranks.

This era is where my story begins. Overt segregation and racism were supposedly on the way out within the Marine Corps, but there were to be considerable bouts of pain and discomfiture in the coming years.

Though unaware of much that had gone before, I was aware of the 1948 Truman edict and assumed that the playing field was level. In late 1951, upon arriving in Pensacola, Florida, as a trusting 18-year-old eager to commence flight training, I discovered that such was not the case. Nor was I aware that I had taken the first steps along a twisted path that would lead to a three-star, 38-year career.

Once I found out what being a United States Marine was all about, jumping into the tiger’s jaw was just something to do. We’d been trained for combat. That’s our reason for being. When the time comes, hell, stick out your can. Let’s go. Let’s see what that old tiger’s got. Let’s jump right into his big, old jaw.

That’s what I was doing that day in Vietnam when that old tiger caterwauled and bit me. I was flying high. A lieutenant colonel. Marine fighter squadron commander. Keeper of the keys, Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 314. And to make it sweeter, our call sign was Black Knights. Hypothetical swords at the ready, I pulled that hot pad duty just like I wanted my men to do it. Five- to 12-hour stints, depending on the threat and the type of call for assistance.

Tiger growled. We listened. Marine troops pinned down, deep in the DMZ.

Twenty miles north of the Rock Pile, near An Khe. Target, 15 miles into North Vietnam. We fired up the Phantoms, those big, powerful, weirdly beautiful F-4s, and flew right into that old tiger’s jaw.

We took some pretty heavy fire on our first pass on target. I rolled in on my second pass, sing-songing Mk-84 500-pound bombs on top of some people on the ground. Although unfortunate, they weren’t passive. They nailed us with hot 37mm rapid fire as I pulled my nose up through the horizon. I felt the hit. The F-4 shuddered. . . ."

Here is the link to the book:

Into the Tiger's Jaw

The U.S. Naval Institute provides an independent forum for those who seek to advance and strengthen the naval profession.

www.usni.org

The Right Stuff.