Going solar with mixed feelings

I just signed a contract to install an array of solar panels on my roof that eventually will give me free electricity. But don’t call me an environmentalist.

Solar energy makes sense for me because the sun shines 330 days a year on my flat-roofed house in New Mexico. It makes even more sense when the federal and state governments pick up 40% of the tab.

The irony is that I’m going solar primarily as a hedge against rising utility rates resulting from government environmental regulations. The state has imposed aggressive renewable-energy goals on utility companies, and the federal government is forcing the closing of a coal-fired power plant (because it was creating haze over an uninhabited national park). So rates for electricity are going up with no end in sight. Another irony is that the government is subsidizing those of us who can afford to buy solar systems while ordinary ratepayers foot the bill for environmental progress. 

For the record, I agree completely that the climate is changing and that human activity has something to do with it. I am not convinced, however, that closing all the coal plants will make it rain in California or curb hurricanes on the East Coast. And I had to laugh when scientists studying global warming got stuck in the ice in Antarctica.

Even if we accept a “settled science” that occasionally sounds more like Scientology, imposing draconian energy restrictions at home while China merrily builds coal plants does not strike me as a workable solution to a global problem.

The canary in the coal mine (pardon the expression) is Germany, which set aggressive renewable-energy goals and is closing its nuclear power plants as well. So electricity rates are more than twice as high as in the U.S. and they’re adding coal-fired power plants to make up the shortfall.

The good news is that the U.S. is on the right trajectory. Greenhouse gas emissions have dropped dramatically, mostly because fracking technology has made it economical to replace coal with cleaner-burning natural gas. Fuel-efficient cars, energy conservation and the miniscule impact of renewable energy have helped.

This suggests that commonsense, global solutions may be possible through innovation and engineering rather than symbolic environmental gestures. In the short term, the U.S. has the potential to be a world leader in the production of natural gas. Exporting gas, and the technology we’ve developed to produce it, can replace some of the coal that’s being burned in China and other places. And we already have the technology to use natural gas for motor fuel.

In the long term, developing smart power grids and storage technologies eventually may make wind and solar energy practical on a large scale – especially in third-world countries that still use their forests for fuel. We probably can do more with nuclear energy, perhaps by manufacturing small, standardized reactors like the ones submarines use instead of building humongous, custom-designed power plants.

It also makes sense to devote more research to coal because we have so much of the stuff. Coal plant emissions have been reduced significantly in recent decades, and perhaps further progress can make it possible to keep limited use of coal in our energy mix.

If the solar panels on my roof make a teensy contribution to save the planet while giving me free electricity, that’s fine. But it’s hard to be environmentally smug when my solar panels are coming from a factory in China that’s powered by coal.

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Obamacare and the Holy Shit Moment

I’ve been taking an academic interest in the public reaction to the Obamacare rollout. (It’s academic at this point because my Medicare/Tricare coverage has not changed so far.) I’ve always been curious about how people behave in groups, and my career in public relations made me an armchair social scientist.

One of my favorite assignments was conducting opinion research at Illinois Bell with surveys of customers and employees to evaluate our public relations programs. It was fun because the job gave me license to be the corporate gadfly and they paid me. My role as an opinion research wonk has continued into retirement with surveys for the National Stuttering Association.

One of my projects was tracking customer attitudes toward the breakup of the Bell System in 1984. At the time, this was the biggest corporate reorganization in history: a government initiative to introduce competition by splitting AT&T into separate local and long-distance telephone companies. So I set up a series of periodic surveys to track public opinion before, during and after the reorganization.

Before the divestiture took effect, customers were strongly in favor of the move. Breaking up a big company has compelling populist appeal, and politicians and consumer groups supported the divestiture enthusiastically. My surveys showed that customers were aware the breakup was coming, understood that this would mean changes for their telephone service, and were happy about it. Some respondents thought the government should break up AT&T into even smaller pieces.

After the breakup we saw a dramatic shift in customer opinion when the change began to affect respondents personally. Suddenly, customers told us the breakup was a terrible idea after they experienced what I began calling the Holy Shit Moment. You mean I have to deal with two separate companies for local and long distance service? I’m responsible for my phone equipment now? And you’re adding a charge to my phone bill? Holy shit! Why didn’t someone tell us this was going to happen? The lesson we learned was that public opinion is fickle, and ultimately will be driven by reality rather than rhetoric.

We may be seeing a similar phenomenon in the rollout of the Affordable Care Act. After years of political debate about what may or may not happen, the hypothetical is becoming real and personal. News reports of adverse consequences of Obamacare — insurance cancellations, website problems, etc. — are showing up in opinion polls and making the law even more unpopular. As expected, both political parties are spinning the story furiously.

Ultimately, the success or failure of Obamacare will depend on consumer experience and not messaging. I am a skeptic at this point but may encounter my own Holy Shit Moment when the law’s Medicare cuts take effect. In the meantime, it’s amusing to watch the politicians and pundits flail away in the forlorn hope that what they say will make a difference.

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Of wooden ships and swordfish

My sea duty in the Navy was aboard a minesweeper: a class of ships designed to clear mines from harbors and shipping lanes. In a fleet of steel hulls and armor plate, minesweepers were an oddity because they were made of wood. That’s because most mines in those days were triggered by magnetism, and sweeping them in a steel-hulled ship would have been embarrassing.

USS Woodpecker

USS Woodpecker

My ship, USS WOODPECKER (MSC-209), was small but sturdy and seaworthy. The hull had two layers of wood planking – which made the ship creak in heavy weather — and the superstructure was mostly plywood. Naturally, minesweeper sailors called themselves the Iron Men in Wooden Ships.

We probably were no more vulnerable to enemy fire than other ships (and, happily, never had a chance to find out). When I visited a Coast Guard cutter in Vietnam the crew proudly showed me the bullet holes where a rifle round had gone completely through its deckhouse, in one aluminum wall and out the other.

No one anticipated an attack by a swordfish.

In early 1967 one of our sister ships, USS WIDGEON (MSC-208), was operating in a task force off the coast of North Vietnam. In our home port of Sasebo, Japan, the daily message traffic included reports from the task force. One report noted that USS WIDGEON had been holed by a swordfish.

It’s a gag, we thought. They’ve been at sea for a long time and are getting bored. But in the following days we saw reports of the ship’s hull damage and repair requirements. When WIDGEON returned to Sasebo several of us were waiting on the pier as the ship moored. We don’t believe you. Show us your swordfish.

We were escorted to the ship’s forward engine room. There, a few feet below the waterline, about 10 inches of swordfish bill protruded through the hull. The collision broke off the swordfish bill, we were told, and the fish went its not-so-merry way – much to the disappointment of the ship’s cook.

There was no leakage because the swordfish bill effectively plugged the hole it had created. I think the ship had to go into drydock to repair the hole and remove the swordfish bill – which probably was mounted on a plaque in the wardroom.

I still visualize a surprised engineman aboard WIDGEON calling the bridge: Captain, you’re not gonna believe this…

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Covering Billy Graham

The Rev. Billy Graham is back in the news: celebrating his 95th birthday and releasing a video billed as his final sermon.

I met Rev. Graham in 1962, when I was a journalism student and part-time reporter for a community weekly newspaper in Chicago’s Austin neighborhood. One of my chores was the church page, which featured the listing of religious services and news of local churches.

Even though I was going through an anti-religious phase in my life, I embraced the church page as the first rung on the journalistic ladder. I also covered the police beat, which was lots more fun.

The big news that June was Billy Graham’s Greater Chicago Crusade. The famous evangelist stormed into town for more than two weeks of revival services in the massive McCormick Place convention center. To get a local angle on the story, I made arrangements to attend the Crusade and get a photo of Rev. Graham with some people from a local church.

When I arrived at McCormick Place before the evening service, I was ushered into the press room with my local church folks and Rev. Graham popped in for our photo-op. The evangelist was as impressive in person as on television, tanned and vigorous. He greeted me with a hearty “Hello, brother!” and a handshake that practically lifted me off the floor.

After I got my photo, I picked up a press folder and sat at the media table in the front of the giant auditorium. By this time the Graham Crusade had been going for nearly a week. The only other reporter there was a guy from the Chicago Tribune who had covered every event and clearly was bored with the whole thing. To meet an early-evening deadline, he had already filed his story based on the advance text of Rev. Graham’s sermon. We made small talk and settled down to watch the service.

This was no ordinary church service. Tens of thousands of people filled the cavernous convention center and 2,000 people sang in the choir. After half an hour of music and scripture, it was time for the main event as Rev. Graham ascended to the pulpit.

As he began to preach, the Tribune guy and I listened to his words and looked down at our advance copies of the sermon. And did a double-take, because what Rev. Graham was saying was completely different than what was in the script. The Tribune guy went ballistic as he watched his story evaporate.

It was a memorable scene: Billy Graham preaching, 40,000 people listening reverently, a few worshippers shouting “Amen,” and a reporter in the front row saying “Son of a bitch!”  This continued for several minutes – Rev. Graham preaching, the audience Amen-ing and the reporter cursing – until the evangelist finally began using his prepared text. “At least he saved my goddam lead,” the Tribune guy snarled.

The climax of the revival service was when the evangelist ended his sermon with a call for people to come forward for salvation as the 2,000-voice choir burst into song. Billy Graham saved thousands of souls that night. And one news story.

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A reluctant athlete

I joined a new gym this week, and worked out there for the first time today. It passed my test: fairly clean, uncrowded and five minutes from home. There’s no juice bar, personal trainers or pulsating music and that’s fine with me. Most important, TV hookups on each machine enable me to plug in my earphones for a session of cardio and cable news.

I’m not what you’d call a gym rat and certainly am no athlete. In school I was the kid with glasses who was the last to be picked for the team. But I concluded years ago that exercise is my last defense against age and gravity, and enables me to enjoy great food without feeling guilty.

So hitting the gym and the bicycle trail several times a week is part of my lifestyle. I enjoy bicycling, but working out at the gym is something I feel obligated to do because it’s good for me, like flossing. Some people claim vigorous exercise makes them feel euphoric. I have never experienced this and feel good when I stop exercising.

I credit the Navy with getting me into the fitness habit. Every year I was required to pass a physical fitness test that included pushups, sit-ups and running. That forced me to visit the gym regularly to stay in shape.

After I retired from the reserves I was not about to do pushups, sit-ups and running voluntarily. So I signed up for aerobics classes at the local YMCA. That worked for me because classes do not require motivation or discipline beyond showing up.

Most of the aerobics instructors were terminally perky young women who would shout inane encouragements like: “How do you feel?” I would shout back: “Old!” Another favorite was: “Listen to your body!” My body kept telling me to stop jumping around and have a beer. I developed a tolerance for bad music, learned to wear earplugs when they cranked up the volume and would pop a Mozart tape into the player when I got back to my car.

The gym is a great place to people-watch, especially if you frequent low-budget clubs as I do. In Chicago I went to a chain health club on the edge of the city that attracted a multicultural crowd. English was the third most popular language and there were a lot of tough-looking characters with exotic tattoos. The men, too.

The fitness chain always had a big Christmas sale to attract new members and I learned to avoid the place right after New Year’s. The parking lot was full, the locker room was nastier than usual and the first few aerobics classes were a sweaty demolition derby of random flailing limbs. Happily, the New Year’s resolution crowd thinned out after a couple of weeks.

That health club was close to Sam’s Club, and it was convenient to stop there on my way home. Grocery shopping after a workout is a bad idea, especially at Sam’s Club. 20 pounds of ribs! A cubic yard of Cheetos!

I no longer attend classes because the step aerobics I used to do has fallen out of fashion, but the habit of regular exercise has become ingrained. My retired-military status enables me to use the fitness center at an Air Force base in Albuquerque. It’s a 20-minute drive, but I can shop at the exchange, pick up prescriptions, etc. while I’m there. The facility is well equipped, scrupulously clean, free of charge and includes such perks as a senior officers’ locker room. I wear a Navy t-shirt to maintain my identity.

The Air Force fitness center remains my workout of choice, but the neighborhood gym will keep me active on those days when it’s too cold to bicycle and I don’t feel like driving across town. I can’t say I’m looking forward to going there, but it will feel good to get my workout over with close to home.

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Do we need a Secretary of Information Technology?

So the new health insurances exchanges for Obamacare have been plagued by computer problems. Is anybody surprised? Government agencies are not good at running consumer-oriented computer systems. When the feds take on a project as big as Obamacare we tend to assume they’ll screw it up.

It’s not just the federal government. State governments have chronic problems with computer systems that handle unemployment benefits and other government functions. Some states have invested millions of tax dollars in information technology that is outdated, inadequate or just plain doesn’t work.

Happily, this does not seem to be a problem for military technology. Fighter jets fly by wire, cruise missiles find their targets and drones kill terrorists. I’m a little skeptical of the National Security Agency’s data collection, but if Amazon and Facebook can deliver personalized ads I’d like my government to be just as smart at finding the bad guys and keeping us safe.

Most of us have grown accustomed to using computer systems and expect a seamless experience when we bank, pay bills and make airline reservations online. I am comfortable managing my life this way and trust that my bank, Amazon and other commercial websites will process my transactions flawlessly.

I don’t have the same level of trust in government websites, which often are balky and not particularly user-friendly. When I pay my state taxes online I am never completely confident that my payment is going through. The Veterans Administration website allows me to manage my health records online but did not have a record of my knee surgery last year.

One of the reasons private companies are good at online commerce is that they treat information technology as a strategic function under the direction of a chief information officer. I don’t see that level of emphasis in government, where information systems are a support function and often fragmented among government agencies.

So I wonder if federal and state governments would do a better job of managing information technology if they upgraded the IT function under a cabinet-level chief information officer. Not your average political appointee, of course, but a seasoned tech exec from someplace like American Express or Amazon. The risk is that a government IT organization could become an entrenched, unaccountable bureaucracy like the Internal Revenue Service or, for that matter, some corporate IT departments.

Housebreaking government information technology is critical because the core political issue today is the size and scope of government. It will be ironic if the Obamacare exchanges, signature achievement of the big-government folks, become an inadvertent recruiting tool for the Libertarians.

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A bite of the Big Apple

I renewed my love/hate relationship with New York City last weekend when I flew in for a two-day nonprofit board meeting. Even though I spent about as much time on American Airlines’ flying cattle cars as in the meeting, I enjoyed getting back to the Big Apple.

I’m familiar with the city because my corporate career brought me there on business several times a year through the 1970s and 80s. I learned to navigate the subway system and enjoyed prowling around Manhattan. It’s a great place to visit on an expense account.

Arriving in New York would be exciting if I could be teleported directly to, say, Fifth Avenue. Instead, I’m greeted by a scruffy LaGuardia airport and a cab ride through crumbling neighborhoods in gridlock traffic as the meter burns through my wallet.  New York’s quaint custom of piling garbage bags into Les Miz sidewalk barricades adds to the overall impression of a city strangling itself. The construction scaffolds obstructing traffic on virtually every block prompt me to wonder what New York will be like if they ever finish renovating it.

I see New York through the lens of a passionate city kid. I grew up in an apartment in Chicago, took the subway to college and worked in the Loop for most of my career. I get back there regularly to see friends and family, get a Michigan Avenue fix and go through my checklist of ethnic restaurants – even though the traffic and weather remind me why I retired to Albuquerque.

Working in a big city means that you play in the major leagues and can compete with anybody. I felt this in Chicago, and even more so when I went to New York on business.

New York is a city on steroids in which both the good and bad aspects of urban life are carried to extremes. Yes, traffic is impossible and much of the place is a mess. But there’s more to do, see and eat than practically anyplace. Last weekend’s visit included a great dinner in an old-school Italian restaurant and a pint in an older-school Irish pub with actual Irish servers. A deli near my hotel had sandwiches, panini, Mexican food, Asian food and pizza.

The pulse of street life never stops, so much so that on my first few visits I was reluctant to go back to my hotel room at night for fear that I’d miss something exciting. The urban-anthill press of humanity makes New York a people-watchers paradise and agoraphobe’s nightmare.

I don’t see how anyone can feel self-conscious on the streets of New York. No matter what you do or wear, you probably will not be the most bizarre person within view and passersby won’t bat an eyelash. On one visit to New York a guy walked up to me on the street and screamed incoherently. I screamed back and it felt good.

Times Square is bigger, brighter and more crowded than ever, but when I visited a few summers ago it had been taken over by tourists. Everybody in Times Square appeared to be visiting from either Iowa or China. They were snapping pictures of the buildings, their friends, the cops, their friends with the cops. The place had more character when it was dominated by pimps and hookers in the 70s.

New York is a wonderful place to live if you’re wealthy. A corporate executive and his wife, friends of my parents, moved there in the 70s and loved the city. They lived in a fashionable apartment, did all the cultural stuff, went to restaurants where the maître d’ recognized them and never once rode the subway. For the rest of us, moving to New York to expand your horizons requires downsizing your lifestyle. Most of the people I’ve visited in New York live in apartments the size of my family room.

I really enjoy visiting New York and certainly can appreciate why people live there. But I was happy to get back to Albuquerque Sunday night.

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Cutting the cord

I finally cancelled my landline telephone service. My local phone service has been deteriorating and the cable company made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. This is a big step for me because I was a phone company guy for more than half my career.

I’m still amazed by the technology that transformed an industry and ultimately made it obsolete. When I joined Illinois Bell in 1968, AT&T and its Bell telephone companies made up the largest enterprise in the world: more than a million people, tens of thousands of equipment buildings and millions of miles of cable dedicated mostly to voice telephone service.

That massive investment has all but evaporated. Voice telephone service now is a software function on a generic Internet router, just another data stream on the Internet or a wireless cellular system, and can no longer survive as a standalone business.

My career gave me a front-row seat to this transformation. The Bell System was a monopoly because the staggering capital investment needed to provide telephone service made competition impractical. It was heavily regulated, capably managed by engineers and former Eagle Scouts, and had fiercely loyal employees who racked up decades of perfect attendance. AT&T was a rock-solid business that delivered bulletproof dividends to widow-and-orphan stockholders.

Ironically, it was technology (mostly developed by Bell Laboratories) that made it economical for competitors to meet growing demand for long-distance data communications. This ultimately forced the breakup of the Bell System and fed a generation of lawyers.

Long distance service was the Bell System’s cash cow, and opening it to competition spawned giant companies (remember Worldcom?). But advancing technology eclipsed these companies when long distance service became so cheap that cell phone companies began giving it away.

Meanwhile, state regulators created pretend competition for local phone service by forcing telephone companies to sell their service below cost to fly-by-night resellers who would offer more choices to consumers. Consumers, for the most part, didn’t buy it.

Technology has done what government could not: create a truly competitive telecommunications marketplace. My local telephone and cable companies compete head-to-head with low-priced package deals on telephone service, Internet broadband and television. Today’s cash cow is television delivery, and that may disappear as Internet TV services like Hulu bypass cable and satellite TV companies. And more consumers are replacing landline service with cell phones.

Since government regulation was originally intended as a substitute for competition, today’s marketplace is making government agencies redundant and bureaucrats unhappy. With no monopolies left to dismember, the Department of Justice antitrust division is reduced to blocking mergers and the Federal Communications Commission is proposing to regulate the Internet.

Meanwhile, I’m enjoying my new digital phone service. Eventually I may take the next step and switch to all-cellular service, but I’ve grown accustomed to having a phone in practically every room. Perhaps I’m still a phone company guy.

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It’s time for civil rights 2.0

My heart goes out to the parents of Trayvon Martin. But I’m getting tired of being called a racist.

I came of age during the civil rights movement in the 1960s and raised my kids in a racially mixed suburb. During my career I watched affirmative action and diversity programs succeed in every company and institution I encountered.

I’ve seen public attitudes on race relations change dramatically in a single generation. Yes, racism still exists, but today there’s an overwhelming consensus that racism is wrong. Minorities are protected by law in a variety of ways and countless billions of tax dollars have been spent on anti-poverty programs.

The civil rights movement deserves credit for this initiative. But it’s worth noting that this massive, half-century commitment has been carried out by a succession of mostly white leaders with the support of an overwhelming majority of Americans. It’s a shining example of American exceptionalism: No other country in the world has done so much to raise up a minority population with the backing of the entire nation.

That’s why it’s dismaying to see the hysterical reaction to the Trayvon Martin-George Zimmerman case, and to the Supreme Court decision to end federal supervision of Southern state voting laws. Civil rights leaders, the news media and politicians would have us believe that nothing has changed since the 1960s: that African-Americans are still under attack from white racists, and that American laws and justice are insufficient to address the concerns of African-Americans.

  • Civil rights advocates and the media convicted George Zimmerman of a hate crime well before his trial, and that narrative persists despite a fair trial and exculpatory verdict. Does the right to self-defense really threaten every black child in America? At what point does a civil rights protest become a lynch mob?
  • What’s revealing about Trayvon-mania is the extent of black grievance and white guilt: that so many people believed a made-up story despite evidence to the contrary, and were outraged when the trial disproved that story. Why did these folks want Martin and Zimmerman to be Emmett Till and Bull Connors instead of two ordinary guys who made bad decisions? 
  • The Supreme Court ruling left the rest of the Voting Rights Act intact and recognized that black voter registration now equals or exceeds that of whites. That means the 1964 law has been a spectacular success. Yet civil rights leaders and their politicians chose to claim defeat with wild-eyed claims that Jim Crow laws are coming back (which would be a surprise to the numerous black elected officials in the South).

What’s ominous is that this dramatic increase in race-baiting has the tacit approval of our first African-American president. I understand that President Obama needs to shore up his political base. But putting a civil-rights label on the unrelated issues of gun control, stand-your-ground laws and attempts to curb voter fraud is dividing the country. Not to mention the impulse of Democratic politicians to label legitimate criticism of the President’s policies as racist.

The President says we need an honest conversation about race relations and I could not agree more. But it needs to be a conversation for 2013 and not 1965.

  • We need to acknowledge that African-American men commit more crimes than any other group, and that their profiling has as much to do with common sense as with racism. Let’s explore the factors that contribute to this such as education, popular culture and community institutions.
  • We need to admit that government programs to combat poverty often have resulted in dependence rather than progress, and seek new ideas rather than pour good money after bad.
  • Since jobs and education are part of the problem, we need to ask why African-American politicians and groups like the NAACP exclude employers like Walmart from our cities, oppose educational reform by supporting teachers’ unions, and kill entry-level jobs with a higher minimum wage.
  • We need to ask why African-Americans follow leaders who promote a sense of grievance and dismiss people like Herman Cain and Allen West. Why are rap artists who spew racism and misogyny invited to the White House? And why have the news media anointed Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton as the spokesmen for all African-Americans? Isn’t it time for those guys to retire?
  • Most important, can we really have a conversation about these issues without being accused of racism for raising them?

America has done a lot to end racism and inequality through government action. Much of this effort has been successful, but reviving the civil rights protests of the 1960s will not solve the significant problems that remain. To deny the progress of the last 50 years and claim that all the problems of today’s African-Americans are the result of white racism is dishonest and offensive.

It’s time for a new approach to make African-Americans truly equal, and it’s up to blacks to lead the way – probably with new leaders. I’m certain that legitimate efforts to advance economic and educational opportunities for minorities will win the support of all Americans because that’s the kind of nation we are. But accusing most of the population of racism will not help.

 

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SHOUTING BETWEEN SHIPS IN ALL CAPS

The news that the Navy has abandoned its tradition of typing messages in all capital letters reminded me of the quirky communications I experienced in my seagoing days.

The all-caps format had its origins in the limitations of teletype technology. Now that Navy ships and aircraft are connected by high-speed data networks and secure voice circuits, modernizing the message format certainly makes sense. That would have been impossible when I went to sea in 1966.

My ship received its message traffic via World War II technology, with a radioman listening to Morse code and typing the letters on a typewriter. Classified messages, in the form of groups of letters, had to be decoded using a crypto machine. As the communications officer, I spent long hours typing code groups into the machine and assembling strips of paper into the finished message. In all-caps, of course.

Communication between ships has always been limited by technology and the need for security. For centuries, navies have used a series of signal flags hoisted on a halyard to spell words or use a shorthand vocabulary of frequently used phrases. In officers’ training my classmates and I amused ourselves by combining standard flaghoist phrases into nonsense messages such as “submerge to periscope depth and air bedding.”

It’s hard to be eloquent when communicating with signal flags. At the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, Horatio Nelson wanted to inspire the fleet with the message: England confides that every man will do his duty. His signals officer reminded the admiral that “confides” was not in the standard flaghoist vocabulary and would have to be spelled out letter by letter. The resulting word substitution went down in history as: England expects that every man will do his duty. It required 31 flags.

Tactical communication was a little like the forced abbreviation of today’s text messages and Twitter. The Navy probably does not have a flaghoist for LOL or OMG, though enterprising sailors may have invented something on their own.

Voice radio for short-range communications presented the same challenge because transmitting in code entailed reading multi-letter code groups into the microphone. It was easier to use the standard vocabulary in the codebook than to spell words one letter at a time.

One morning our ship was proceeding to a rendezvous with the mother ship for our patrol zone. Along the way we responded to frequent coded voice radio messages asking: What is your position? Finally we arrived and, as we moored alongside the mother ship, received yet another what is your position? query. Using standard codebook vocabulary, we replied: Look out starboard porthole.

We communicated with nearby ships using Morse code on a signal searchlight. That generally worked, though we were unable to converse intelligibly with a Russian trawler that shadowed us briefly. We occasionally encountered a South Vietnamese patrol ship that was technically an ally but not good at communicating. One day the Vietnamese ship flashed the standard challenge of A-A (what ship?). We made the customary response, our four-letter callsign, but got a second challenge. We replied with our ship’s hull number. The Vietnamese ship queried: What is your name? By this time our signalman was out of patience. Instead of laboriously spelling out USS Woodpecker in Morse code, he flashed: My name is Jim. What’s yours? 

 

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