On the drive from Cape Canaveral to Miami, Venue stopped off in Fort Pierce to fortify ourselves with a gator tail sandwich, when we serendipitously happened across the National Navy UDT-SEAL Museum.
A full-scale model of the Apollo Space Capsule used by Underwater Demolition Team Frogmen to practice attaching a flotation device and rescuing the astronauts after splash down.
Members of the Underwater Demolition Team suffered from nitrogen narcosis often enough that they carried these cards "so as not to be mistaken for an intoxicated person."
After a quick tour through the eclectic collection of beach survey maps, underwater demolition equipment, "multi-purpose canine" memorabilia and the Maersk Alabama lifeboat in which Captain Phillips was held hostage, and even a surreal scale model of Osama bin Laden's Abbottabod compound (the model was "donated by CBS 60 Minutes"), we were ready to hit the road again—until we noticed the curious landscaping of the Museum's grassy exterior.
Against a backdrop of palm trees and suburban shrubbery, a row of rusted iron rails jutted out from the ground to form a forest of diagonal spikes, ringed by concrete pyramids, each set in a carefully maintained circle of white sand.
Signage explained that these were obstacles used for training by Frogmen during World War II, storming a simulated Omaha Beach on the white sand of Fort Pierce. From 1943 through 1945, a Seabee battalion built copies of German defenses and placed them in the water, for repeated waves of Frogmen to practice blowing up.
When the war was over, the remaining obstacles were abandoned until, in 1991, the Army Corps of Engineers finally pulled them out and donated the least deteriorated ones to the Navy SEAL Museum.
Like a brutalist sculpture garden, the closely mown lawn was peppered with an aggressive geometry of eroding concrete. On closer inspection, a taxonomy of obstacles emerged, starting with an advance guard of horned scullys—concrete blocks adorned with three or four iron spikes that would have been placed just offshore, in six to eight feet of water, in order to rip the bottom out of landing craft.
Cut rails and hedgehogs—clusters of iron beams riveted together and scattered across the beach like jacks—would have come next, followed by sinuous rows of dragonteeth, or concrete tetrahedrons, that could stop armored vehicles.
An American casualty lying next to an anti-landing craft obstruction on Omaha Beach, June 6, 1944. Photograph from the U.S. Coast Guard Collection in the U.S. National Archives.
Of course, the German analogs of these practice obstacles cost hundreds of Allied lives. But, placed in their perfect white sand circles and scattered with an artful randomness across a Floridian lawn, the overall effect is reminiscent of nothing so much as a Japanese Zen rock garden—a carefully constructed and meticulously tended landscape of both attack and defense, anticipation and memorial.
Zen rock garden, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan; photo via.