By Paul Harris

They spotted them off the starboard wing, closing in at 4,000ft.

Even from a distance, the silhouettes were unmistakably familiar – a Spitfire and Hurricane coming out of the sun and pulling up level, one on each side.

Every Battle of Britain veteran on board this special commemorative flight had seen the formation before. But the last time most of them flew in it was 70 years ago.

Poignant:

Back then, in these same skies in which all of them had fought for their country, it was a matter of life and death. Now it was a matter of pride.

And so – as two of the most iconic aircraft of the Second World War made a victory flight alongside an airliner carrying 13 ex-RAF pilots – Britain paid tribute to The Few who risked their lives for freedom.

The British Airways A321 airbus was taking the veterans on a tour of the coastline and mainland they defended so courageously in 1940 against Hitler’s attempt to crush the country into submission. The oldest flyer was 97 now; the youngest 89. But none had forgotten the days when, as teenagers or young men in their early 20s, they overcame seemingly overwhelming odds to change the course of history.

Men like Tom Neil, 89 now, but then a 19-year-old Pilot Officer flying ‘Spits and Hurries’ with 249 Squadron (motto: With Fists and Heels) when the Battle of Britain loomed.

He saw dozens of his friends and colleagues killed, burned or wounded, but survived to fly 141 combat missions in eight months, bringing down 13 enemy aircraft, and winning the Distinguished Flying Cross and Bar.

Gazing out of the window as the historic aircraft prepared to form their escort, he recalled: ‘I don’t think I was particularly skilled. I was just very good at ducking and weaving. I suppose I was reasonably successful. But I never thought when I turned 20 that I would ever reach the age of 2.’

Nearby, Flying Officer Ken Wilkinson, 91, who piloted Spitfires under the command of legless flying ace Douglas Bader, conceded he must have led a ‘charmed life’ to survive the war without a scratch. Some of his friends, he said, never made it beyond their first mission.

The special flight and historic escort was organised to mark the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Britain, to honour those who survived and to remember those who gave their lives.

Actor Edward Fox, a patron of the Battle of Britain Historical Society, told me: ‘Many of them were simply fun-loving, devil-may-care youngsters. But being told that freedom was at stake, and their country threatened, they became men.’ He added: ‘The debt owed by the whole of the world to them is eternal. It can never be repaid.’

Defence Secretary Dr Liam Fox, who joined the two-hour flight, gave ’sincere thanks’ for what they did. ‘We live in a society that takes so much for granted, that it can only be a good thing if we remind every succeeding generation how much was sacrificed for the things they have today. It is genuinely very humbling to meet some of those who put their lives on the line for the freedoms that people today all too frequently think have come from nothing.’

By Bob Pool– Los Angeles Times

For the record, “Music Man Murray” has tried his best to keep his rare 400,000-album collection intact.

Murray Gershenz has spent 72 years amassing his music trove, after all. He has century-old operatic performances captured on Edison cylinder tubes, 1930s-era Big Band crooners on fragile 78-rpm discs, early rockers on 45s, show tunes on LPs and pop artists on cassette tapes and CDs.

The collection is crammed into homemade shelves in a two-story cinderblock building on Exposition Boulevard, as well as two nearby warehouses.

Last summer Gershenz, 88, announced his intention to close his walk-in and mail-order record business so he could focus on a budding career as a character actor. He said he hoped to find a museum or college willing to acquire his $3-million trove.

That hasn’t worked out, he said. So his next stop could be the dumpster.

“Selling individual records isn’t paying the rent,” Gershenz said. “I’ve found about five people with an interest in the collection. But they want me to give it to them. I really can’t afford to do that. This is my life’s work.”

Gershenz is a onetime St. Louis Opera singer and synagogue cantor who opened a used-record shop in Hollywood in 1962. As his collection grew, he moved it to the West Adams area in 1986.

A music collector since age 16, Gershenz had hoped that his son Irv Gershenz, 53, would eventually take over the shop. The younger Gershenz, a musician and artist, continues to handle online record and album sales. But he does not have the time to run the business full time, he said.

“I think he’s just been hoping and praying. I don’t think he knows where to go to find someone to keep the collection intact. He’s just not in a position to give it away,” the younger Gershenz said of his father.

Music Man Murray has reduced his asking price to $500,000. He wonders if a philanthropist such as David Geffen might acquire the collection for a public music library. Or maybe Dolly Parton, who could house the trove at her Dollywood theme park in Pigeon Forge, Tenn. Maybe the Los Angeles’ Grammy Museum would be interested, he says.

Other possible sites for public access to his records include music centers in New Orleans or Nashville, perhaps in conjunction with the Grand Ole Opry, he suggests.

“The collection is worth $3 [million] to $4 million, I’d guess. But a half million will allow me to breathe easier,” Greshenz said. “I’m not setting a deadline, but my ability to pay the rent will determine it. I can go another couple of months. I don’t want this collection to be taken over by trash bins.”

Meanwhile, his character-actor work is thriving, Gershenz said. He had a part on Sunday’s “Mad Men” TV show and will appear “in a big role” on “House” the second week of September, he said.

But for Music Man Murray, in the end it’s the platters that matter.

Photos

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Heads_Up FR

By David Derbyshire

This comical scene took place after a young zoo visitor accidentally dropped his Nintendo DS games console into the gorilla enclosure.

One of the western lowland gorillas – a 300lb female called Bawang – picked up the device and began to examine it, even fiddling with the buttons.

To the delight of crowds, she soon attracted the curiosity of the one-year-old baby ape called Hasani that she has adopted.

The spectacle prompted one of the keepers at San Francisco Zoo to joke that she was playing the game Donkey Kong, a 1980s video game featuring a gigantic ape.

But the ape’s attention span was fairly short lived as she was soon enticed into giving the DS back in exchange for an apple. 

The fruit, that is, not the computer.

 

I’m almost at the next level!: The gorilla eventually handed the red console back to a zoo trainer in exchange for an apple

And fortunately for the owner, his precious device was in full working order. 

Photographer Chris Spicuzza, who captured the moment, said: ‘We were treated to a very funny incident when a gorilla got hold of a Nintendo DS that a little boy dropped into the gorilla habitat.

‘The gorilla was very interested in his prized new find. But It wasn’t long before the little gorilla wanted to see what it was.

‘He was trying to figure it out. Then he flipped it around to see if that would work.

‘Then they both held it very close to their eyes to try to see through it. Of course, the little guy thought he could do a better job and figure it out.

‘Then the trainer lured him over with an apple, and traded the game for the shiny red apple.

‘The little boy got his game system back, a little beat up and slobbered on, but it still worked.’ 

Engrish.com

Onry the best in reraxation… 

Photo courtesy of Chris Phillips
Rest stop sign found in Niigata, Japan

By Leo Mckinstry

The scene is still one of the most evocative in this island’s history: dashing young pilots in their fighter planes, defying the odds as they speed across blue summer skies towards the intruder above southern England.

A German aircraft goes into an uncontrollable spin, smoke pouring from its bullet-riddled engine as it plunges to earth.

At an RAF station on the ground, the mellifluous voice of Vera Lynn wafts from a nearby wireless. From the House of Commons chamber, Winston Churchill’s whisky-soaked growl rouses a nation to resistance at its moment of darkest peril.

 

Old reliable: This restored Hawker Hurricane shows the classic fighter plane in all its glory

Seventy years on, the Battle of Britain continues to have such resonance because the campaign so magnificently fused an epic quality with a moral purpose.

It represented the classic fight between good and evil; between freedom and tyranny.

It was the ancient myth of St George slaying the Dragon made real. The Arthurian legend translated into the modern world, with the Knights of the Round Table cast as the selfless-RAF pilots and the sword of Excalibur as the fighter force.

Yet, for all this heroic glory, a sad injustice hangs over the battle.

For the summer of 1940 will always be associated with the Supermarine Spitfire, the single-engined RAF plane which became the most potent symbol of Britain’s fight against German subjugation. The very name Spitfire is now synonymous with victory in the air.

But this is a travesty of what really happened in the crucial months of 1940.

 

A dogfight for credit: The Supermarine Spitfire was faster in the skies, but much slower to produce in the factories, which meant there were less of them in the air

For the RAF aircraft which actually won the Battle of Britain was an older, larger, slower but still deadly fighter, the Hawker Hurricane.

Without the Hurricane, the RAF would have probably lost the Battle of Britain, because there were simply not enough Spitfires emerging from the aircraft factories and into the squadrons.

In the national struggle for survival, the Hurricane dominated the front line.

When Churchill made his famous tribute to the men of the RAF in August 1940, telling Parliament that ‘never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few’, it was the Hurricane units that deserved the lion’s share of the Prime Minister’s accolade.

On the eve of the Battle of Britain in early July 1940, Fighter Command’s operational force throughout the United Kingdom was made up of 29 squadrons of Hurricanes and 19 of Spitfires, proportions that were to remain the same throughout the coming months.

The overall distribution between the two fighters was largely reflected in German losses. According to the Air Ministry’s own figures, for every two Luftwaffe planes brought down by the Spitfires, three were shot down by Hurricanes.

 

Enemy destroyer: Even though the Hurricane shot down three German planes for every two by Spitfire, Germans considered it a slight on their honour to be downed by a Hurricane

‘It was the aircraft for the right season. It came at a time when it literally saved the country and it performed magnificently,’ said Eric ‘Winkle’ Brown, the renowned test pilot.

Despite tributes such as this, the Hurricane never received the credit it deserved.

A graphic indicator of this indifference could be seen in the mass flypast over London in September 1945, held to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Britain.

Astonishingly, not a single Hurricane was included in the RAF’s formation.

Even during the war, the plane’s record was ignored, its achievements belittled.

After the defeat of the Luftwaffe, the air industry magazine Flight commented in September 1940 that in comparison to the Spitfire, the Hurricane was ‘equally remarkable in its own particular way’, but had received ‘far less than its due attention from a somewhat fickle public’.

 

Together: A Spitfire, in the foreground, flies with a Hurricane

This was partly a result of wartime propaganda, as the Government exploited the image of the Spitfire to boost morale.

Tellingly, the official campaign of 1940 to raise money for aircraft production was called ‘the Spitfire Fund’.

When a group of citizens in North London tried to set up a ‘Hurricane Fund’, they encountered only widespread indifference and even ignorance about the plane.

Further lustre was added to the Spitfire’s reputation by newsreels, articles and films such as The First Of The Few, the 1942 biopic in which Leslie Howard played the part of the plane’s designer, Reginald Mitchell.

Nor can it be denied that the Spitfire, with its intrinsic elegance, had greater aesthetic appeal than the more solid Hurricane, which had much thicker wings.

Moreover, the Spitfire was a faster plane, enjoying a superiority of 30mph in level flight and 70mph in a dive.

 

Made of different stuff: This wrecked Hurricane shell shows the mix of materials that made its design so different to the Spitfire

It exuded sleek modernity, while the heavier Hurricane evoked the past, not least in the structure of its airframe which owed its origins to the Hawker biplanes of the late 1920s.

Throughout its life, in contrast to the all-metal Spitfire, the Hurricane’s fuselage was built partly of wood and fabric.

So strong was the bias against the Hurricane that a form of Spitfire snobbery arose during the Battle of Britain, where victories by the Hawker planes were falsely attributed to the more glamorous Spitfire fighters.

Hurricane pilot Tom Neil of 249 Squadron recalled going to a cinema in Leeds to see a newsreel report of an encounter in which one of his sections had shot down a Junkers Ju88 bomber over the Yorkshire coast.

‘The British Movietone News commentator credited the Spitfire with shooting down the German aircraft, producing whoops of disbelief and annoyance,’ he said.

The Spitfire snobbery even extended to German airmen, some of whom seemed to regard the idea of being shot down by a Hurricane as an insult to their honour.

 

Cultural icon: The Spitfire continues to inspire young people today but the Hurricane might have occupied an equal or even superior footing had its illustrious history not been airbrushed by the RAF

One Hurricane pilot, Eric Seabourne, ended up in a hospital in Portsmouth after he had been badly injured in a dogfight. In the bed next to him was a German pilot.

‘He had been shot down by a Hurricane, which he thought much below his dignity. If it had been a Spitfire, it would have been OK – but not a Hurricane,’ recalled Seabourne.

This complacent, dismissive judgment was one of the prime reasons that the Germans lost the Battle of Britain, for they badly underestimated the fighting qualities of the Hawker plane.

The Hurricane might not have been as fast or as beautiful as the Spitfire, but it had a host of other virtues.

It was highly manoeuvrable, with a turning circle even tighter than that of a Spitfire. Because of its traditional method of construction, it was easy for factories to produce in large quantities, a vital factor in early 1940 when the Spitfires were still in short supply.

Just as importantly, its airframe made it straightforward to repair. No fewer than 60 per cent of all Hurricanes that crashed on British soil ended up back in service with squadrons.

 

Legend: Fighter pilot Douglas Bader, who lost both his legs in a flying accident, thought the Hurricane had ‘a marvellous gun platform’

With a wide undercarriage, lack of vices and intrinsic strength, the Hurricane was the ideal fighter for raw recruits, a priceless asset during the Battle of Britain when the demand from the operational squadrons for new pilots was so high.

The plane’s structure also made the plane astonishingly resilient in combat. The Hawker could absorb phenomenal amounts of punishment, with enemy bullets often passing right through the fuselage.

Ben Bowring, of 111, believed that the Hurricane ‘would keep flying almost after it was destroyed’. On one occasion he was able to land after his wings had been all but wrecked in combat.

‘That aircraft’s a bloody miracle,’ he said after jumping out.

In addition, the Hurricane’s thick wings, each of which contained four Browning machine guns, also provided a unique stability when attacking the enemy.

The famous legless pilot Douglas Bader, who flew Hurricanes in the Battle of Britain, regarded the fighter as ‘a marvellous gun platform.

The sloping nose gave you a splendid view forward and the plane remained rock steady when you fired’, whereas on the Spitfire, ‘the recoil effect was noticeable’.

And Sir Hugh Dowding, who masterminded the 1940 victory as head of Fighter Command, had no doubt about the importance of the Hurricane: ‘It was a jolly good machine, a rugged type, stronger than the Spitfire.’

Remarkably, given this fine record, the Hurricane was a plane that the British Government neither ordered nor even wanted when Hawker’s chief designer, Sydney Camm, first came up with the proposal for a new high-speed monoplane in March 1934.

In an era of slow biplanes, Camm’s design represented a major technical-advance, but the Air Ministry was not interested because it had already commissioned a prototype of the Spitfire.

‘It is regretted that, at the present time, the Department is unable to give active encouragement to the scheme proposed,’ wrote the Ministry to Camm, a statement showing classic bureaucratic lack of prescience.

But Camm, who combined a ferocious-sense of determination with a volcanic temper, was not a man to give up easily, largely as a result of his tough upbringing.

The eldest of 12 children born to a working- class carpenter from Windsor, he had developed his passion for aeronautics while still a schoolboy. 

At the outbreak of World War I, when he was just 21, he went to work for one of Britain’s pioneering-aircraft manufacturers, Martin and Handasyde – where he soon showed a precocious talent for design – before going on to join Hawker.

During an amazingly fruitful career, he designed 52 types of aircraft and presided over the manufacture of 26,000 planes – including the Harrier jump jet, the world’s first successful vertical take-off and landing fighter.

But the Hurricane-remained his most significant achievement.

Undaunted by the Air Ministry’s rejection in early 1934, Camm pressed on with his monoplane project as a private venture, modifying the design to make it even more effective.

His persistence paid off, helped by development problems that were plaguing the rival Spitfire.

Once the Hurricane had made a successful first flight on November 6, 1935 – five months ahead of the Spitfire’s first trip – the Air Ministry relented and placed an order for 600.

The first operational Hurricanes went into service with 111 Squadron in December 1937, just as the drumbeat of war was echoing across Europe.

Compared with lightly armed biplane fighters that barely reached 200mph, the new 300mph Hurricanes were a revelation for their air crews.

On the eve of conflict, the Hurricane invigorated the RAF.

As the Battle of Britain ace Group Captain Peter Townsend, later the love of Princess Margaret, wrote: ‘We were at one with ourselves and our machines.

‘It was the Hurricane, really, which gave us such immense confidence, with its mighty engine, the powerful battery of eight guns and its feel of swift, robust strength.’

And such optimism proved to be well-founded. The Hurricane was the only RAF fighter to see action in every major theatre, from the start of the war to its finish.

It fought heroically in the doomed Battle of France, over Dunkirk, in the Balkans, in the North African Desert, and even in the war against the Japanese over the Burmese jungle, during which campaign it was occasionally used to drop the lethal petro-chemical gel napalm on the enemy.

More than 2,000 Hurricanes fought with the Soviet air force, while some specially adapted Hurricanes, known as Hurricats, were catapulted from merchant ships to defend the Atlantic convoys from aerial attack.

Altogether, 14,533 Hurricanes were built, the last in August 1944.

But, as with the nation, the Battle of Britain represented the Hurricane’s finest hour. Without this fighter, the RAF’s defences would have been too overstretched to survive.

Contrary to German mythmaking, the Hurricane proved a mortal foe to the Luftwaffe, on some estimates shooting down more than 1,000 German planes.

Bleeding to death, the Nazi forces continued to misjudge both the power and numbers of Fighter Command.

After September 15, 1940, the day which was subsequently designated Battle of Britain Day because it represented the final defeat of the Luftwaffe, one German airman, Hans Zonderlind, wrote of how his confidence turned to dismay while conducting a raid.

‘We saw the Hurricanes coming towards us and it seemed the whole RAF was here,’ he said.

After the war, the German general Gerd von Runstedt confessed that the Battle of Britain had been the turning point in the conflict.

He said: ‘That was the first time we realised we could be beaten and we were beaten and we didn’t like it.’

Too readily sidelined or forgotten, the Hurricane is owed a huge debt for saving Britain, and indeed the world, in the triumphant months of 1940.

• Hurricane: Victor Of The Battle Of Britain by Leo McKinstry is published by John Murray at £20. To order a copy for £17.99 (p&p free), call 0845 155 0720

By U.S. Army Spc. Victor J. Ayala
Special Operations Task Force – Central Public Affairs

BAGHDAD (USASOC News Service) – At the Special Operations Task Force – Central (SOTF-C) headquarters in Baghdad, Special Operations Forces and their supporting servicemembers are surrounded by the craftsmanship of a singular work force: the U.S. Navy Seabees.

Whether it’s under the roof of the large headquarters building, working at a desk, enjoying the air conditioning or walking on a new deck made for living quarters, every servicemember and civilian supporting SOTF-C has been affected in some way by the sweat and effort of a small group of Sailors.

This summer, it’s an element of the Navy Mobile Construction Battalion (NMCB) 21 that’s braving the heat and the dust to improve conditions and provide critical construction services to SOTF-C. Only three months into their deployment, the Seabees of NMCB-21 have already provided a number of services to the Special Operations Forces in the Baghdad area. This may impress some, considering the element at the SOTF’s headquarters is only eight Sailors strong.

“This year alone, they have supported multiple Special Forces Operational Detachments Alpha with anything from health and safety repairs, force protection, secure storage areas and expanding living conditions in support of United States Army consolidation,” said an Army Capt., SOTF-C’s Engineer Officer. “They continue to impress us with their capabilities. They can take an idea and make it a reality with limited scope of work and guidance.”

Their current project, a large South West Asia hut which will be used for office spaces and living quarters for Special Operations Canine handlers began May 27. The structure they’re building is roughly four times the size of a typical one of its design.

The eight Seabees are certainly in for their share of challenges, says Navy Builder Chief (SCW) Henry P. Aviles, the team’s Non-commissioned Officer In Charge, as he says it usually takes a team of his size just to build the smaller structure.

“A team this size is normally assigned to build a 16×32,” the Long Island, N.Y., native said. “And we’re dealing with a 30×60.” Despite the size of the project, the Seabees are highly motivated and certainly up for the task, said Aviles.

The eight-Sailor team is part of a larger unit detached from its parent battalion. Their detachment is currently assigned to the Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force – Arabian Peninsula (CJSOTF-AP) in Balad, and numbers around a hundred. The main body of NMCB-21 is currently serving in Kandahar, Afghanistan, while another detachment is serving in Kuwait. Aviles’s team is one of several spread throughout Iraq to aid CJSOTF-AP’s subordinate task forces.

The team makes up for its minimal size with its diversity, employing four builders, two construction electricians, an equipment operator and an utilitiesman. The team hardly considers its size a problem.

“You don’t want too many people on any one job,” said Construction Electrician Constructionman Ronnel J. Philpott, a Bronx, N.Y., native and most junior member of the team. “No one here is wasting time, everyone’s working.”

It’s also proving helpful because it’s forcing members of the team to work outside of their respective specialties, and broadens their experience, said Philpott. Early in the construction of the team’s big project, there will be very little work for an electrician or utilitiesman, but no manpower can be wasted.

“I can’t just sit around because there’s no wiring to do,” he said.

During each phase of the construction, individual members of the team will have to rise to the occasion and lead the others in their specialty.

“We divide into smaller crews and the senior in each crew is the leader,” said Utilitiesman 2nd Class Jorge Batista of Bronx, N.Y., and former Navy aviation technician. Then as certain jobs demand certain expertise they will “fall back and help support”.

“It really helps me see the big picture as we all do our part,” he said. “Basically, we help each other and anything can be done.”

Another factor with an effect is their shared background, says Batista.

NMCB-21 is a Navy Reserve unit out of Lakehurst, N.J., and the members of the team are all either from New Jersey or New York. While the screech of circular saws slicing wood and the crack of hammers pounding nails fill their improvised work areas with the sounds of their trade, it’s the inimitable Northeastern accent that proclaims their shared home port.
During breaks taken in the shade of dusty palms, they talk about work, leisure, family, and often, home. Whether it’s New York, N.Y., Long Island, N.Y., Jackson, N.J., or any other place the Seabees call home, they share a dialect and an experience unique to them.

“It helps us relate and communicate,” Batista said. “We have that New York vocabulary and similar experiences.”

Aviles says it may help, but believes that any group that has to work together so hard and so closely will always come together. That bond is already started and strengthening in the Sailors of Aviles’s crew.

“By the end of this, we’re like a little family,” said Batista.

In addition to the large job already under way, the Seabees are often called to help with smaller projects on the side, like installing air conditioning and decks for new living quarters. Some of these other projects can divide the already small work force for a day or two at a time. But despite factors that could be considered limiting, the Seabee “Can Do” spirit overcomes those limitations and progress is made consistently.

The structure’s base was completed and insulated within a week, with all the pieces for supporting and putting up the walls being assembled and put to place.

Aviles, above all things, is promoting safety and quality of work over speed. This consistent, responsible, and reliable ethic is something SOTF-C’s commander, an Army Lt. Col. has noticed over the course of his six deployments to support the SOTF.

“The Seabees are some of the most energetic troops I have witnessed during my six rotations in Iraq. You present them a problem and they find the solution,” he said. “And you can trust that if a Seabee built it, it’s going to last. They’re absolutely impressive.”

NMCB-21 relieved NMCB-22 in March. NMCB-22 completed SOTF-C’s new operations center, working from the ground up. All power and utilities were also provided by the Sailors of NMCB-22. The Sailors who went on to replace NMCB-22 were well trained to take the mantle and make their own mark on SOTF-C.

In its pre-deployment training for Afghanistan, NMCB-21 was prepared for a much harsher combat reality than what the detachments of Seabees in Iraq and Kuwait are experiencing.

At Fort Hunter Ligget, Calif., the Seabees lived in tents and practiced base defense and combat drills in conjunction with their construction work. There they undertook construction projects under simulated hostile threat. The training combined their already physically intensive labor with wearing heavy protective armor, carrying weapons, and dealing with the stress of a combat zone.

Next, they trained at Port Huaneme, Calif., where they underwent more combat training in anticipation for their Afghanistan deployment. Many Seabees were required to become certified Combat Lifesavers, while some senior Seabees were trained to be squad leaders. Combat basics like tactical movement in a fire-team, and battle drills were also taught alongside specialized Seabee training in fields like welding and woodworking.

So when many Seabees ended up supporting operations in Iraq and Kuwait, there was surprise in a few of them at the difference between their expectations and the reality of their deployment.

Others had a different view of it.

“I didn’t really know what to expect, so I didn’t set expectations,” Philpott said. “I just knew we were ready for anything.”                                   

Only in the first months of their tour, NMCB-21 is optimistic about its own contributions to SOTF-C’s legacy in Iraq, and its Sailors are optimistic about the work.

“It’s one thing to say that ‘Hey, that house or that building is nice’,” said Philpott. “It’s another thing to say that you helped put it up with your hands. I love being able to say ‘I helped build that’.”

Video Courtesy of Gail Mc Cabe in Iraq

By Gretel C. Kovach

UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER

During the low points of John Coté’s charity walk across America these past three months, the Del Mar real estate broker seemed to be working his way through the plagues of Exodus.

Blisters. Hurricane-powered thunder. Darkness across a desolate land. (Although that was a nice change from city lights, he thought.)

The rivers did not stream with frogs, but swarms of insects and other invaders attacked his immune system, sending him to the emergency room.

But Coté had a mission: walk from Camp Pendleton to Fort Benning, Ga., from Marine Corps base to Army post, raising money and awareness for wounded troops.

Now his 2,140-mile, cross-country quest is nearly over. He expects to walk to the finish Wednesday.

His journey began April 1. Since then, he has raised more than $20,000 (mostly donations of $100 or $200) for the Fisher House Foundation, which builds rest homes for injured service members and their families to use during treatment.

Along the way during this one-man devotional, Coté’s reverence for military men and women deepened. It was the canteen he sipped from to keep going.

“We have a niche population, a subculture of people who are sacrificing their lives for us. And it seems to me that the rest of the country is oblivious,” he said. “That hurts me. That’s a disconnect hard to bridge.”

Step by step, Coté sought to cross the divide.

He awoke each day about 4:30 a.m. with a quart of coffee, a bowl of oatmeal and maybe a little Doors music. Then, with his .45 Springfield pistol locked in his support vehicle, he walked five to seven hours, covering an average of 20 miles daily.

In the evenings, he researched online stories of military valor and typed long dispatches on his blog. After hearty meals of steak or pasta and long talks with strangers, he slept soundly, too exhausted for boredom or self-doubt.

In the Borrego area, two old friends, schoolteachers Rich and Deb Gunther, joined him for a 10-mile stretch. The camaraderie from supporters commenting on his website was welcomed, despite increasingly stale “Forrest Gump” allusions, he joked.

But for the most part, he walked alone.

In his solitude, he meditated on the service of young soldiers and Marines he probably will never meet, like Cpl. Brady A. Gustafson, whom he wrote about on his blog. The Twentynine Palms Marine was honored with the Navy Cross last year after his platoon was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade in Afghanistan.

The blast severed his leg, but Gustafson kept firing. Finally, he was pulled away from the smoking machine gun. “Sorry, guys, I can’t keep going,” he said.

The thought of Texas in summer had intimidated Coté, but after 40 days of walking by that point, his legs were in their best shape in 35 years. Still, in the northeast corner of the state, near the moss-draped Cypress stumps of Caddo Lake, he nearly found his personal Alamo.

Coté, a “sweat hog” even in his natural habitat, was evaporating in the humid, 101-degree weather. After walking four hours, he began to feel dizzy and nauseated. Coté detoured straight to Gatorade and air conditioning.

His son, Army 2nd Lt. John Claude Coté, a West Point graduate in training at Fort Benning, issued an order: hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

“That’s one thing you can’t let happen, Dad,” the son said. “If you get dehydrated one time and get real heatstroke, your walk is over.”

Coté stuffed his rucksack with extra bottled water and chain-sipped the rest of his journey.

As Coté headed into the deep South’s bayous and beaches, he started to feel like human flypaper. A rash broke out on his legs in Louisiana. When calamine, hydrogen peroxide soaks and hydrocortisone cream were outgunned by what looked like jungle rot, Coté checked into the emergency room in Meridian, Miss.

After the nurse gave him a shot of cortisone, she pointed out the medallion around her neck. “This is the thumbprint of my nephew, a Marine (private first class) who was killed in Afghanistan on July 3rd, 2009,” she said.

Coté was caught off-guard. He burst into tears. “Take your time, John,” the nurse said gently.

In Florida , the aquamarine waters near Pensacola were fouled with a film of oil from the Gulf of Mexico spill. The bait shops were going under, the fishermen idle. Everyone was depressed, he said.

Coté pressed on to Georgia. He booked a motel room for his last night, so he could walk to Fort Benning well-rested. He doesn’t expect any fanfare at the finish. Military journalists might be the only ones to receive him.

Then, Coté will drive home to San Diego County.

Many doubted he could finish. His daughter, Kate Coté, 28, of Tiburon knew better. “He’s too stubborn to stop,” she said.

The troops may feel they are just doing their job, she said. “They don’t require a pat on the back, but they’re doing more than they think, or maybe they know.”

Coté, 57, is 30 pounds lighter since he began his Walk for Warriors. He loved every minute, he said. But what did it amount to? “My hope was I would raise some money, but really raise awareness that there are people out there sacrificing a great deal. And it is not just the soldier, sailor or Marine. It’s the whole family,” he said.

He is not sure how many people he reached. “Maybe,” Coté said, “the greatest impact is on me.”