Hickox (DD 673) - Naval Cruise Book

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BELFAST AND LONDONDERRY IRELAND Mr. Brown kisses the Blarney Stone to obtain the gift of sweet persuasive eloquence — and one buck from Mr. Dodge. BELFAST Faith and be ' gorra but it rained from the minute we hit the old sod till the day we left. Nevertheless, the beauty of this country couldn ' t help but show through it all. As soon as we moored in Belfast Mr. Brown and Mr. Moynihan were off to spread the faith in Southern Ireland, while the rest of us stayed up north in Ulster to do the same. Mr. Moyni- han went to find his long lost relatives. Mr. Brown went to kiss the Blarney Stone for he bet Mr. Dodge he would. We mostly spent our nights ashore at the Palais dance hall where we did the Irish Jig and tried to adopt ourselves to their ballroom style of dancing. Till now we thought the Scottish girls were the prettiest, but there was something about these young colleens that made it questionable. Maybe it was that brogue you could cut with a knife. We felt important when the Irish Republican Army of Southern Ireland wrote to the govern- ment asking why we couldn ' t go south and visit them. We drank gallons of wonderful Irish made tea and bought yards and yards of Irish linen. We talked and talked with these Irish people, in the stores, on the street corner, everywhere — we just liked to hear the sound of their voices. They had an irresistible charm all their own, and it wasn ' t hard to realize why they, and their country are sung about so much. LONDONDERRY Only two full days were spent in London- berry but it was a milestone in our cruise. This was the halfway mark. It was now goodbye to Northern Europe and an unforgetable experi- ence. We were relieved here by the USS er and the USS Dashiel. We were now to our efforts toward the Mediterranean. Blarney Castle, Country Cork, Eire

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The wines age, and with it, the people BORDEAUX, FRANCE This, indeed, was the wine capital of Europe — La maison du vin de Bordeaux. Wherever we went we couldn ' t help but be impressed by the city ' s chief industry nor could we refuse to accept it ' s chief product. We visited the Medoc region and saw how the little grape evolved through many processes to the cork restricted nectar that we know. We saw dark wine cellars, where thousands of bottles of wine aged. We saw great grape presses. We saw the whole sequence. We often heard the waiter say, Voulei vous du vin blanc ou du vin rouge? and though we spoke no French we knew what he meant. It wasn ' t Paris, but we could still sit out on the sidewalk cafe and watch the passing parade. We could still walk down to the Flea Market. on Sunday morning where we could buy anything from a beret to a jacknife with a monkey- wrench in it. St. Andrews Catholic Cathedral was being fixed and there were scaffolds all over it but it still impressed us with its height and magnitude. We spent a day at St. Emilion where we got a good idea of rural France with its narrow, cobblestoned streets and vast grape vineyards. When we left Bordeaux, each of us that had imbibed at all were sure that we were connoisures of wine of rare vintage — and to be honest with you — that was everybody. The Opera House

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NAPLES, ITALY See Naples and die someone once said. We thought we might die BEFORE we saw Naples. The Irish Sea had its temper up and tossed us around a bit so we were glad to see the outline of Naples with its sheltering harbor, and brilliant sunshine arise before us. Anchored in the shadows of Mt. Vesuvius, our stay here was just a two day lay over to prepare for opera- tion Italic Sky. The fleet was in and you could tell something big was up. Within shooting distance of such fabled spots as Sorrento, Pompeii and Capri, let alone Naples r itself, there was much to see and too little time in which to see it. But Naples has its effects on you, no matter the time. We remember the thousands of people walking up and down the torn up Via Roma and wondered if Italians ever went inside. We remember the Gallaria Umberto and its displays and knick knacks. We remember roaming vio- linists in restaurants, and people singing in the streets. Spaghetti, ravioli, Italian sausage, and Provallone Cheese found its way into the messhall. Rumor had it that Malvica, Cimino, Carafeno, and Mr. Sollecito put it there. We fueled on Sunday morning, which didn ' t go over too well, and continued getting ready for our next twelve days of operation. We left Naples with much undone and unseen but much remembered — a little apprehensive about our coming exercises but determined nonetheless to do good.