“The United States believes strongly in what you call soft power, the value of democracy, the value of the free economic system, the value of making sure that each citizen is free and free to pursue their own God-given ambitions and to use the talents that they were given by God. And that is what we say to the rest of the world. That is why we participated in establishing a community of democracy within the Western Hemisphere. It’s why we participate in all of these great international organizations.

“There is nothing in American experience or in American political life or in our culture that suggests we want to use hard power. But what we have found over the decades is that unless you do have hard power — and here I think you’re referring to military power — then sometimes you are faced with situations that you can’t deal with.

“I mean, it was not soft power that freed Europe. It was hard power. And what followed immediately after hard power? Did the United States ask for dominion over a single nation in Europe? No. Soft power came in the Marshall Plan. Soft power came with American GIs who put their weapons down once the war was over and helped all those nations rebuild. We did the same thing in Japan.

“So our record of living our values and letting our values be an inspiration to others I think is clear. And I don’t think I have anything to be ashamed of or apologize for with respect to what America has done for the world.

“We have gone forth from our shores repeatedly over the last hundred years… and put wonderful young men and women at risk, many of whom have lost their lives, and we have asked for nothing except enough ground to bury them in, and otherwise we have returned home… to live our own lives in peace.”

– Secretary of State Colin Powell, at the World Economic Forum, 26 January 2003, responding to an assertion by George Carey, former Archbishop of Canterbury, that the United States ”is in danger of relying too much upon the hard power and not enough upon building trust”.

“Artist’s conception of the 1101-foot long, 252-foot canted deck Attack Carrier, the Navy’s most powerful offensive weapon. Built by the Newport News (Va.) Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, she was christened by Mrs. William B. Franke (wife of the then-Secretary of the Navy. — Ed.) on September 24, 1960. A flight deck, five city blocks long, and over a block wide, makes the ENTERPRISE the largest ship afloat and the first to be driven by atomic power.” She’s the eighth ship to bear the name Enterprise.

After 49 years, not only is she still afloat, but she’s still the fastest aircraft carrier in the world. I’d say the American people got their money’s worth on this one. Happy anniversary, Enterprise!

“On June 4, 1944, a German submarine known as the U-505 was prowling off the coast of West Africa on a hunt for American and Allied ships, when depth charges from the USS Chatelain blasted the dreaded U-boat out of hiding.  It was the end of a violent run for U-505, which had terrorized the Atlantic Ocean as part of a massive U-boat campaign that almost altered the outcome of World War II.  The Museum of Science & Industry invites you to step inside the real U-505 — the only German submarine in the United States and, now, a national memorial to the 55,000 American sailors who gave their lives on the high seas in WW I and WW II.”

That’s a pretty good summary, considering that it had to fit on the back of this postcard.  Here’s the rest of the story:

A Naval Task Force consisting of the aircraft carrier Guadalcanal and five destroyer escorts, including Chatelain, searched the general area off the coast of Africa for two weeks in May and June of 1944, using radio direction finders to try to triangulate on the position of any radio transmitters — that is, any U-boats.  Their mission was to find and capture a U-boat, along with its Enigma codebooks.  By 4 June, they were running low on fuel and heading for Casablanca for more, when Chatelain made sonar contact with U-505 just 800 yards in front of them.

After six minutes of attacks with depth charges from Chatelain and from Guadalcanal aircraft, the sub, taking on water, surfaced 700 yards from Chatelain.  The ship opened fire on the decks with surface guns, and were joined by two other destroyers and two aircraft.  (One German sailor was killed, more were wounded.)  U-505‘s commander ordered his crew to abandon ship and, so efficiently did they do this, that they neglected to stop the engines or prepare the ship to be scuttled.

American sailors rescued the Germans, got aboard U-505, killed the engines, and grabbed their codebooks and cypher gear.  Guadalcanal‘s chief engineer managed to use U-505‘s engines to charge her dead batteries and pump out the water, and the sub was towed to Bermuda.

If word of U-505‘s capture had gotten out, the Germans would have known that some of their codes and cyphers had been compromised, and the Navy briefly considered court martialing Guadalcanal‘s captain, Daniel Gallery.  However, the capture remained a secret, and all involved were highly decorated.

After the war, U-505 was scheduled to be used for target practice.  However, Captain Gallery’s brother, a Chicago priest, learned of the plan and contacted the Museum, which had always been interested in acquiring a submarine.  The US Government donated it to Chicago in 1954, and the interior was refitted with parts provided by the Germans for free.  U-505 was exhibited outdoors for 50 years and, in 2004, was moved into an interior space in the Museum.  After some repairs, the exhibit was reopened in 2005.

This card came to me from Kristin, who volunteers at the Museum.  She sent it after learning that my last visit to the Museum was in 1988, and wanted to bring me up to date.  Postcards: the next best thing to being there.

For Postcard Friendship Friday — and the Friday before we celebrate our Independence Day — I would like to present these reminders that American men have not been the only guardians of our freedom.  The United States Postal Service apparently felt that the theme of women who protect and defend us is worth repeating as well.

The postcard pictured is a Postal Service-issued postcard that reproduces the “Women in Military Service” 32-cent stamp, issued on 18 October 1997, which was also the date of the dedication of the Women in Military Service for America Memorial at the gates of Arlington National Cemetery.  A 3-cent stamp with a very similar theme (but which unfortunately omitted the Coast Guard) was issued on 11 September 1952.  The Department of Defense used the latter stamp to impress upon women the option of a military career.

Although the Postal Service has issued other stamps honoring individual women who served or contributed — pioneers in aviation, medicine, and other fields — I think that these stamps say it best.

My favorite woman in uniform (excluding those with whom I served) is without a doubt Rear Admiral Grace Hopper (1906-1992), a pioneer in computing.  Among other achievements, she brought forth the idea that we could program computers using words and syntax that resembled human languages, instead of having to use the ones and zeroes of the machine.  (She’s also credited with the saying that “It’s easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission” which, in my opinion, is how most progress is made.)

Be sure to stop by the other blogs celebrating Postcard Friendship Friday.

This postcard is made of actual leather, which was apparently something of a novelty back in the day.  It’s still possible to find early postcards made out of things like wood and aluminum.

Pictured is the conference building in the Portsmouth Navy Yard where the Treaty of Portsmouth was signed on September 5, 1905, bringing an end to the Russo-Japanese War.

This is one of four leather postcards that I own that were addressed to Miss Grace Hoare of Lowell, Massachusetts, and which I picked up during a vacation in New England.  It is postmarked July 20, 1907, but was apparently manufactured prior to March of 1907, when postcards with divided backs became legal in the United States.

“December 7, 1941, Japan’s sneak attack on Pearl Harbor sinks the Arizona, Oklahoma and Utah. The Oklahoma was salvaged and scrapped. The remaining six battleships returned to duty. U.S. Losses: 2388 killed, 1178 wounded, 12 ships sunk or beached, 9 damaged, 164 aircraft destroyed, and 159 aircraft damaged.” This modern chrome postcard was published by the late WW2Cards.com. My guess is that the original photo started out as a black-and-white photo, and was taken from either Ford Island or Hickam Field.

The description on the back of this card is so long that there’s only about an inch of space in which to compose your message. “The United States Naval Radio Station at Radio, Virginia. Situated at the southwestern end of Fort Myer Military Reservation opposite Washington, D.C. Build by the United States Navy Department (Bureau of Steam Engineering). Land ceded to the Navy Department by the War Department. Rated power of station 100 kilowatts. Towers, one 600 feet high 150 feet square at the base, two 450 feet high 120 feet square at the base, located at angles of an isosceles triangle, large tower at the apex base of triangle 350 feet between centers of towers, perpendicular to base 350 feet. Normal range: day 2,000 miles, night 3,000 miles. Cost about $250,000.”

Construction on the station began in 1910, and the postcard is almost as old. I’m sure that the average third grader of 1910 could draw a diagram of the station from the description; I’d be hesitant to put it in the hands of a high school graduate of today.

The intent of the radio station was to allow communications between Washington and the fleet commanders at sea and, to my knowledge, this is one of the first instances where the word “radio” was used to describe this type of wireless communications.

Being an old military communications man myself, I have a copy the U.S. Army Signal Corps Radio Communication Pamphlet No. 40, The Principles Underlying Radio Communication (Second Edition, revised May 24, 1921; the First Edition was published December 10, 1918). This particular pamphlet has 619 pages, including a 41-page index. In the index, under “Wireless”, it says “See Radio.”

This postcard is a WNC “Colorchrome” published by the Washington News Company, Washington, DC.

This is a memorial in my hometown which is inscribed with the names of all the local folks who have gone to war, including my stepfather. My mom found this card and sent it to me inside of a greeting card, though I guess she originally planned to just send the card itself through the mail. “Saw this card and remembered your visit and the monument with Joe’s name. Here’s one for your collection. Hope all are well. Oops! I wrote upside down!” That’s my mama.

This is a modern postcard published by WW2cards.com, which seems to be defunct. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about the Graf Spee and her final battle:

From September through December 1939 Admiral Graf Spee, under the command of Hans Langsdorff, sank nine British merchant ships in the South Atlantic and Indian Ocean. Britain formed eight hunting groups in the Atlantic and one in the Indian Ocean to look for her, totalling three battleships, two battlecruisers, four aircraft carriers, and 16 cruisers (including several French ships).

On 13 December 1939, she was located by the British Hunting Group G, consisting of the 8-inch gunned cruiser HMS Exeter and the 6-inch gunned light cruisers HMS Ajax and HMS Achilles, and the Battle of the River Plate ensued. During the battle, the Graf Spee inflicted heavy damage upon the Exeter, forcing the latter to break off the engagement. Later in the exchange, one of Graf Spee‘s shells caused some casualties on the Achilles. In return, the Graf Spee was hit repeatedly by the 6-inch shells of the light cruisers, which could not penetrate her armour but nonetheless inflicted significant topside damage.

On the other hand, Exeter’s 8-inch hits ran through the armour easily. About 06:38 an 8-inch shell penetrated two decks and exploded in Graf Spee’s funnel area, causing crippling internal damage.

Exeter’s early 8-inch hit wrecked the boiler room, shutting down the fuel-separating system. Chief Engineer Commander Klepp advised the captain they could not repair the damage at sea. Klepp estimated the ship had about sixteen hours of running time, using pre-cleaned fuel from the day tanks. They could not replace the rapidly depleting fuel, so the ship was denied the possibility of outrunning her pursuers on the open sea.

Admiral Graf Spee entered the neutral port of Montevideo, Uruguay for repairs. The damage was surveyed by a British observer on 14 December 1939, who reported that the port midship 6-inch gun was unserviceable, the starboard anti-aircraft guns appeared out of action, rangefinders were out of action, the aircraft was wrecked, there were shell holes in the control tower and two holes below the waterline.

Under the Hague Convention of 1907, the Graf Spee was not entitled to remain in the port for more than 24 hours without risking internment. In addition, under the same convention, the Graf Spee had to give British merchant ships 24 hours start if they left port, and the British Consul organised for the merchant ships in port to sail at 24 hour intervals, effectively locking the Spee in the port while, at the same time, spreading propaganda about the vast fleet of British warships converging on the area. On 14 December, British Minister Millington-Drake officially requested that the Uruguayan government intern the ship if she stayed in port longer than 24 hours, on grounds that she was still seaworthy. The Uruguayan government obliged, announcing that if the Graf Spee did not sail within 72 hours of its arrival, it would be interned.

Captain Langsdorff had been in discussion with the Kriegsmarine over the various options available to him, which included fighting on, internment at Montevideo or scuttling the ship. Adolf Hitler responded personally, writing: “Attempt by all means to extend time in neutral waters in order to guarantee freedom of action as long as possible. Fight your way through to Buenos Aires, using remaining ammunition. No internment at Uruguay. Attempt effective destruction of ship if scuttled.”

On 17 December 1939, the German warship left Montevideo harbor, with Ajax, Achilles, and the 8-inch gunned Cumberland waiting nearby in international waters. However, instead of trying to fight through the blockade, she sailed just outside the harbor and was scuttled in the estuary by her crew. Captain Langsdorff committed suicide three days later by shooting himself, in order to prove he had not acted out of fear for his own life.