They decided to create the only War Memorial Post Office in the United States.
A piece of land was purchased in April (for $1500), they went from door to door to raise the funds to erect a building, and after a year, many volunteer hours and $7000 later, a memorial building was built.
There is a metal plaque for veterans of “the World War,” 1917 – 1919.
Another for WWII, 1941 – 1945 (with Merchant Marines listed as well.)
Another reads: “In honor of the citizen of East Marion who served their country in the Korean War, June 27, 1950 – Jan 31, 1955…and in the Viet-Nam War, Aug. 5, 1964 – May 7, 1975…”
In May of 1999, Congress officially recognized and re-dedicated this little post office to war veterans.
I have moved from NYHarbor, and now live in East Marion, the North Fork of Long Island, NY.
I bike to Greenport and Orient for boats and ferries. I can swim in the Sound (water temperature 60°F / 15.5°c now, a bit warmer in the bay.) And I pick up my mail from the East Marion Post Office War Memorial.
On a framed official document from the Senate is this poignant line:
“WHEREAS, When the plaque was placed inside the Post Office, and when the dedication took place 50 years ago, no one could imagine another plaque being placed beside it for the East Marion men and women who would fight in Korea and then in Vietnam; we can only hope that we do not have to create another plaque to place beside them;…”
“I was a deckhand on her from 1999 to 2003, and a relief mate from 2004 to 2011.
She’s a tough old boat. 327 ft long. You could stand at one end on a rough day and watch it twist in the swells. As you know she landed at Normandy on D Day as the LST 510. One of a small group of LSTs that actually returned from From the invasion. LSTs were built as throw away vessels that were never intended to come back, so it’s amazing that she did, and even more amazing that she is still working.
Last year we took the WW II Vets out for a wreath laying. The mate and I found a vet standing on the car deck. We asked him if he was alright. And he told us that this was the spot he was standing on when he heard a torpedo skid along the bottom of the hull. It did not explode and just bounced off of the bottom of the boat.”
Name: USS Buncombe County (LST-510)
Builder: Jeffersonville Boat and Machine Company, Jeffersonville, Indiana
Laid down: 27 September 1943
Launched: 30 November 1943
Commissioned: 31 January 1944
Decommissioned: 1 July 1946
Displacement: 1,625 long tons (1,651 t) light
3,640 long tons (3,698 t) full
Length: 328 ft (100 m)
Beam: 50 ft (15 m)
Draft: Unloaded : 2 ft 4 in (0.71 m) forward 7 ft 6 in (2.29 m) aft
Loaded : 8 ft 2 in (2.49 m) forward 14 ft 1 in (4.29 m) aft
Depth: 8 ft (2.4 m) forward 14 ft 4 in (4.37 m) aft (full load)
Propulsion: 2 × General Motors 12-567 diesel engines, two shafts, twin rudders
Speed: 12 knots (22 km/h; 14 mph)
Boats & landing craft carried: 2 LCVPs
Troops: Approximately 130 officers and enlisted men
Complement: 8-10 officers, 89-100 enlisted men
• 1 × single 3″/50 caliber gun mount
• 8 × 40 mm guns
• 12 × 20 mm guns
A Patchogue captain returning from Boston squeezed through Shinnecock Inlet, and was making good speed when he suddenly ran hard aground in Moriches Bay.
“I don’t understand! I’m in the channel!” said he, as he pulled out his paper charts and peered at his GPS. And—as real life is stranger than fiction—while he was there, a Coast Guard boat came from behind him, picked up the channel buoy, and dropped it about fifty yards east of where he’d grounded, and disappeared.
“Ah, ” he said as he slowly listed 45° to one side, “NOW I’m out of the channel.”
A Port Jefferson greenhorn was a glutton for punishment: electrocution from lightning, several dismastings, near sinkings and allisions were not enough to dissuade the new sailor from the sport. On one early voyage, he managed to bring his wearied self and his disheveled vessel to a dock where he found himself tied next to a fancy boat: “There was a couple sitting on white cushions, they had white-carpeted boarding steps and a white french poodle.” Our sailor wrestled to pump out his holding tank. “It exploded. It went all over everything. It went everywhere.”
Many, many thanks, Capt. Tim of the Flaming Scorpion Bowls!
and thank you, N!