Speaking of which, and to go on topic for a change, I just came from
diving at one of those places where lots of my countrymen died in a
military action.

Not knowing much about the Battle of Peleliu, but wanting to get off
the boat, I gave up one dive on Peleliu's West Wall in favor of a land
tour.  We were picked up at the dock by the famous Tangie and given a
road tour of the island with stops at the memorial at Orange Beach,
the museum, and a drive around the airfield, but we didn't have time
to make it to Bloody Nose Ridge.

The Battle seemed similar to the Iraq War: a promise that the mission
would be accomplished by a easy "3 day" land invasion following a
bombing campaign that flattened the entire island.  Instead, based on
a mistake regarding the tide tables, and the lack of intel on the
myriad tunnel complexes that the Japanese hid inside as they waited
out the bombing, the poor Marines suffered 1,100 casualties upon
landing on the island.  Over the next two months, and in 115-degree
heat, the Marines finally took the island, but not until suffering
6,500 casualties by the 1st Marine Division and 3,000 more casualties
by the 81st Infantry.

Like the Iraq War, the Battle was almost completely unnecessary:  "The
battle was controversial due to its lack of strategic value. The
airfield captured on Peleliu was of little use for the attack on the
Philippines. The island was never used for a staging operation in
subsequent invasions; the Ulithi Atoll, in the Caroline Islands north
of the Palaus, was used as a staging base for the invasion of Okinawa.
In addition, few news reports were made on the battle. Due to
Rupertus' "3 days" prediction, only six reporters bothered coming
ashore. The battle was overshadowed by MacArthur's return to the
Philippines and the Allies push towards Germany in Europe. It was said
the only useful aspect of the battle was the experience gained in
battling the heavily fortified positions across the island. Japan
would use these tactics with even greater success at Iwo Jima and
Okinawa, inflicting the worst casualties of the Pacific War on the
Marines and soldiers."  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Peleliu

Fortunately we faced much better landing conditions than the Marines
as we used the harbor instead of crashing over the reef in LVTs, the
weather was in the upper 80s instead of 115 degrees, and the only
things sniping at us were mosquitos.  Tangie's van doesn't have A/C,
so we left the door open as I snapped lots of pictures.  Said pictures
are downloading to DVD as I speak and then will be transferred to the
web, along with all the underwater stuff.

The memorial at Orange Beach was our first stop, with Tangie
describing the battle and giving his profused teary-eyed thanks to
"our beloved Americans".  I've met quite a few people now from Peleliu
and they all spoke good English.  Tangie's accent is hilarious and I
thought it odd that off all Peleliuans, he would be the one to give
the tour.  It turns out that he is the one-man Peleliu welcoming
committee, having started his trade originally by displaying the war
artifacts he collected on the island in an ad-hoc museum.  Today he
coordinates memorial anniversaries, visits by returning veterans, and
documentary crews, along with providing tours to the handful of
tourists that make it out that way.  Peleliu is sort of off the beaten
track, but Tangie seems to be doing well.  He pointed out his house
along the tour and his is by far one of the nicest homes on the
island.

The original Japanese airfield, the main reason for the invasion, was
originally destroyed by the American bombing, then rebuilt for
American use and eventually for Palauans by a small now-defunct
airline (their only plane crashed).  Today it's overgrown with weeds
and potholed.  The only standard way onto the island is by boat.

The museum is filled with lots of recovered artifacts from the Battle,
along with photographs, letters from Battle survivors, and handwritten
accounts of various Battle campaigns.  We saw several Japanese bunkers
along the road, as well as the remains of a Japanese tank and a Marine
LVT.  The jungle has reclaimed the unpopulated portions of the island
to the point you can't tell it was ever obliterated.  Photos of the
bare island from WWII are a stark contrast to the verdant green
existing today.

We visited a nifty little resort that would make a nice getaway from
the bustle of Koror on a future dive trip, and were shown taro
plantations, some pigs that didn't look or smell very happy in their
small pens, papaya trees, and he explained the various botanical uses
of the noni tree, ranging from digestif to abortifacient.  Then, on
the road back, we narrowly squeezed between the vehicles of two pot
farmers whose owners had left them blocking the road as they snoozed
on the ground beside them.  Quite the adventure in our little 2-hour
tour.

Back on the boat, we prepared to dive Orange Beach.  Instead of
crashing over the reef, we skirted through a cut and dropped into a
coral terrain between 40-60 feet of depth, filled with egg-guarding
anenomefish, sweetlips, and the myriad other species of reef fish that
make Palau justifiably famous.  The current was light for a change.
Corals weren't as spectacular as other sites, but then other sites
weren't the site of a major beach landing.  There were artifacts to be
found, but due to the current we didn't drift as far as the area where
they were usually spotted; besides, it was a photo trip and fish make
more interesting underwater shots than bullets.

We dove Orange Beach again at night, and it was easily the best night
dive of the trip, the flat terrain and spotty coral perfect terrain
for little critters.  Unfortunately this time we did have a stiff
current and it made shooting macro a painful experience.  I wasted
half my air trying to get an itty-bitty scorpionfish and ended up
ascending early, losing Janna in the process since I hit a current
going in the opposite direction as I started my safety stop.  I
drifted about a mile before ascending, while in the meantime the boat
was following the divers drifting in the opposite direction.  Being
alone under the millions of start, floating over the ghosts of dead
Marines, watching the plankton sparkle below, was a beautiful moment
of solitude, but I ended up breaking the mood and lighting up my twin
strobes like searchlights to get the dinghy driver's attention and
didn't even need to beep the Dive Alert.  The Aggressor runs a very
professional boat and even installed EPRBs on at least one diver of
every buddy team; unfortunately for me, the EPRB went on the buddy who
was still down with the group, but it was a nice thought.

After getting picked up in one direction it was amazing to see how
fast the rest of the group went in the other direction.  What a crazy
night dive.  I blame it on the ghosts.

The next day we dove Peleliu's West Wall.  While lacking the historic
significance of Orange Beach, the West Wall boasts awesome viz and a
straight-down drop to the abyss.  Again we were blessed with slack
current.  This time I warned Janna to stay with the guide, since I
planned to go deep to hunt leopard sharks and I didn't want to shorten
her dive.  Of course as soon as I hit 115', there she was behind me
tapping my shoulder.  OK, whatever.  It's probably better to have a
buddy when diving that deep anyway, I suppose.  Off we went down the
wall.

For a change I noticed it was very quite underwater, not another diver
in site and that was rare for the Aggressor with 17 divers on our
skiff.  There were a couple turtles and a white tip or two, but no
leopard sharks.  Beautiful sea fans hanging off the wall, though, so I
shot a few to practice my wide-angle.  At some point I recalled the
words of the guide during the briefing telling us that the wall was
supposed to be on the right, and we had spend the last 20 minutes
kicking slowly with the wall on our left.  Oops.  That's the problem
with current-free drift dives: you actually have to remember all that
complicated dive plan stuff instead of just jumping in the water and
going with the flow.

So we kicked back at a brisker pace for 15 minutes, catching up with
the tail end of the group.  I got bored in the shallows without wide-
angle stuff to shoot, so I ascended and helped the dinghy driver check
out the sunning bikini clad girls on a boat moored nearby.  No one
else in the group saw any leopard sharks, so my misguided direction
finding didn't seem to hurt and the solitude was nice for a change
even though I wasn't able to shake my buddy and truly get alone.

After that, it was back north toward Koror and all the dive sites in
between.  Our Peleliu trip was over, but not to be forgotten soon.

[Trip report for the rest of Palau to follow in a separate thread.]

On Mar 17, 1:57 pm, "Douglas W. \"Popeye\" Frederick"
<Pop...@finalprotectivefire.com> wrote:

Don't get Scott started again. We know that many of your countrymen
have died, and are dying as we speak, all over the world in military
actions. It's one of the things that could earn huge respect for
Americans internationally, if not for some of you taking too much
delight in demeaning those who might otherwise be inclined to show
gratitude. It's that offensive posture again.

   American haters are American haters, and always have been.

   It's jealousy and angst.

   Witness Dechucka and jAnus.

All the folks who speak them.

   Good for them.

   It's nothing to me, though.

At least until some Asian language comes to the top of the heap in
international business etc. All good things must end. At the moment
about twice as many folks speak Mandarin as speak English as their
first language,

 But about half of them can't tell time, and a significant number of them
live in the stone age.

 I'm not yet quakin'

though it's not considered a major player in
international business, yet. Spanish has been in the running but won't
likely beat out whatever language comes out of Asia.

But you're probably right. As long as you stay sheltered in your
shrinking stronghold of linguistic ignorance you'll need nothing but
English in it's ever-changing forms.

   That's the usual boldly hypocritical statement for an a.shole who can't
speak both the official languages of his -own- fuckin country.

JF

 They can spell "are" and "you" as well.

 Besides, if we need to know where France is, we just ask the Germans.

Only it it is written "France" in capital letters. Do you remember
that clip about Americans showing Australia as  North Korea and Iran?

Janusz