Okay, Happy Birthday, MARINES!

Probably one of the few things I am jealous of the US Marine Corps is that they really know how to celebrate their birthday - the Army has buried its under Flag Day I think, and for some reason they don't know how to party.

So today, for a force that began in a tavern, Happy Birthday! from a former paratrooper, who was always glad to be shot at along side you, wouldn't have wished it any other way.

Hey, Old Timer...

I am very aware of how near retirement and impending doom I am, but I was walking down to the dock in Steilacoom when a bright red BMW pulled off the road and stopped. I walked up and leaned towards the open window, hoping it would be the mythical long legged red head looking for guidance. It wasn't but was a young soldier with sunglasses perched on his head and three metal qualification badges on his digital Desert Camo Uniform, he leaned towards me and asked "Hey, Old Timer, would you like a lift?"

As soon as "Old Timer" came out I was thinking Gabby Hayes and cringing internally in denial. I had just slipped in the movie of my mind from leading man, the hero, to comic relief sidekick, how had that happened? I kind of smiled and told him the walk was my exercise and thanks for the offer, as he sped off I hoped he just wanted to be nice and show off his ride - not that he thought I really needed a ride, I hadn't been limping nor lumbering on. I was enlisted for the Vietnam War in 1967 and stuck around through other military operations to including Desert Shield and Storm in 1990 and '91. But I started putting that life together with riding my motorcycle up behind a car waiting at a stop light, and reading the Memorial tribute in the window, of a young man, born in February of 1991, when I was getting prepared to invade Iraq with the French, that died in our current wars in 2009, he hadn't gotten to nineteen. So in honor of those Veterans, the "Old Timers" everywhere I will tell you about Samuel.

He was born before the turn of the Century, the Eighteenth Century, and grew up big and strong and joined the King's Dragoons to fight in wars on the Continent, against France or Spain. After the first little war he came home and everyone admired the fine Calvary saber with the gold inlay and shining sharpness -- asking how he had come by such a fine saber. He said modestly that a French officer had no further use for it and he had. His military career had gone on and the places would change but Samuel didn't for he went to the sound of the guns. In one of the many wars against France he rode off and came back with a fine pair of horse pistols,matching French pieces. When asked to tell the tale about that, he again replied that the French officer having no further need for them had given them up to him. He couldn't go on being a gallant dragoon forever, so he settled down to a small farm and small wife, raising crops and children and getting old. His years were wearing and he limped a little and later a lot, but there was no quit in him.

On April 19th, 1775 with the country rising up in arms to stop the British regulars Samuel Whittemore took up his musket, his horse pistols and cavalry saber and went out to do battle for his family and neighbors. He took up a strong position behind a stone wall about a hundred and fifty yards from the road and began to fire upon the advancing British redcoats. His fire was effective for they sent a squad of flankers to eliminate the position believing there were several rebels there. Samuel got several shots off from his musket before he had to pick up the pistols, and he got two shots off wounding with one and the other, he was drawing his saber when one of the regulars shot him in the face, taking away part of his jaw. the others quickly bayoneted him about a dozen times and left him for dead, then hurried back to the marching column, not wanting to be left behind in the coming darkness with the rebels everywhere.

Samuel's friends and neighbors came out after they left and went to see what they could do, expecting to find him dead, but they found him trying to re-load. They got a door off a home, laid Samuel on it and took him to Doctor Tufts. They begged the doctor to save him, but the doctor said it was too late, they asked him to try anyway and he did. When he finished he did tell them quietly that Samuel was going to die, he was seventy-eight years old. The doctor was correct Samuel Whittemore died, eighteen years later - scared horribly but always proud of his service to his adopted country and sure that he would do it again if called. A very dangerous old man, the oldest combatant on the field that day.

So the next time you see someone old and almost ancient, smile before you call him "Old Timer", it would be kinder to ask if he could help you -- for he would be glad to be the leading character in the movie of his life.

I was going to write about the war...

but I couldn't even sign into Blogger this morning without hitting an extra i in hotmail.com and getting refused. Well, I found it and corrected it and I am under two ten this morning and I have a mug of coffee so I will ramble on...

The United States is not at war, our Commander in Chief has received the Noble Nobel Peace Prize, I suspect he kept the same Secretary of Defense as the last Commander-in-Chief since he wasn't serious about continuing the war and could use the cover until he could get back to it. It really is still Bush's War, and President Bush will tell you that he is our last Wartime President, not that he was doing it any better than the current One of Wonder.

The reason I even mention it was a post from Frank James, about the M-4 (M-16) failures again ..., he wrote well about the problem and I just had to point out what I saw looking at the same problem. He knows his weapons, hunting and farming and I learn every time I read about his corner of perception. Having had my own personal experience with trying to get the system to improve the current pistol I know that the system just doesn't care, one voice, ten bodies, two thousand dead because of a mess in the Pentagon, or any other headquarters will be swept under the blanket of History. To be read and commented on by people that do care but aren't in control nor on a battlefront.

The reason we aren't going to win a war in the Middle East is that we aren't going to go to fight a war in the Middle East. Israel survives because Jerusalem and Tel Aviv aren't in California nor New York - they may get lots of bond buyers from there, but the leadership of the country, the people of the country and the reason for surviving are all inside Israel. So they pay close attention, and even when offering peace to stupid folks that think the problem could just be gone when the Jews are, they certainly are passionate and serious about trying. They are also serious about fighting wars to win them, not sustain their armament industry, Boeing and GM.

There was passion and concern from the citizens in the American Revolutionary War, the War between the States, World War II and just cheering and flag waving patriotism on all the others. If we would just move the Commander in Chief and Congress in session to the center of our international conflicts, and allow them to drag their lobbyists with them, we would have such better results, really. And if for whatever reason we still couldn't win, like Alexander the Great in Afghanistan of his era, make it look like he had and leave to conquer something easier.

Nice thing about rambling is that I expend all the heat and mind mumbling that raced through my head in the darkness. What was my point? Oh, yeah, that old Vietnam thing that is still unresolved in my heart. I personally remember my life then, and I didn't like what we were about to do with our professional army in Bush's War (do you remember all the reasons we are fighting it, still?). Yes, I like a professional military - keep the MBAs away from our officer corps and it could really be great.

I do want the best military to perform the Defense of America, and I don't want it expended (they are willing to fight to the death for the best of reasons and it isn't money) in stupid political paybacks and favors for friends in odd places. It just won't be there when America really needs its pointy end. Thank you for looking for meaning in all this, I am on the second mug of coffee, sure the current President is totally wrong on Iraq and Afghanistan and so much else, sure that those going back to the Middle East for the third, fourth or fifth time are wondering what is the point and they are the ones that have to tell the first timers what to do to survive, do well and win battles --- and it really isn't exactly like it was before, the new Commander in Chief has other things on his table to work on and look good about. Yes, you will be getting Turkey on Thanksgiving, read a copy of a book about the Marines in North Korea, they knew that only the Marines cared.

In addition: I am so glad my wife is off for her doctor's checkup, if I had to go my blood pressure would make him change my medication or admit me to the hospital, foolish waste of good money, best be about better stuff than worrying at what I couldn't fix no matter.

I am just a bit stunned...

My grandfather, Rev. Earl Martin Smith, worked very hard on World Peace. He is gone now, but I having spent a large portion of my life in the World at or preparing for War, understood it isn't easy standing up for Peace. So imagine my shock at the latest Nobel Peace Prize - I can only think that someone thinks of it as a reward in consolation for his not getting the Olympics in Chicago. Really there are people out there working hard on Peace right now, not just talking about it, really working on it.

Those that jump into danger in the dark...

June 5, folks. John Wayne pretends to be a leader of Airborne troops hoping for a break in the weather and gets it (it was only a movie about real people doing the best they could). Never loaded up for a night jump has our President Obama, nope. I was lucky that I got to do many go out in the dark from the back of the perfectly good aircraft doing NAP of the Earth until time to bounce up to jump altitude. Nothing particularly brave about a paratrooper, they gave him twenty-five dollars for the danger, the glider riders got zip and had to worry about bad landings. Still everyone on the fifth of June, in the aircraft, on the ships, in the gliders going towards Normandy, France, knew this was the calm before the storm. Many had been in combat in Africa and Sicily, but most hadn't, they were trained and they knew the Germans were waiting and they knew what the grinding war was like in Italy where the defenses had been built up. It was dark and tomorrow would bring what tomorrow wasn't telling, the orders were clear, the beaches named, the drop zones identified, the weapons and equipment checked and counted, the lean was forward and those really ready were going to sleep until they were called to perform, the lightly nervous were quietly boasting or counting off their pre-attack mantra - stuffing fear in the back of the mind and mentally performing heroic feats for their fellows.

I once read about a paratrooper's account of his first jump, and all the things he thought of that he could have been doing if he weren't in the aircraft getting ready to do a fool thing like jump out of it, trusting his parachute and the jump master - then trying to remember all they had told him, drilled into him and preached at him and forgetting it as fast as he remembered and they called out "Ten Minutes!" and the drill was now the exercise. They were all getting ready for that point where the drill became the exercise and the attack was on and wouldn't stop for a debriefing or anything. Leaning forward, waiting for the ramp to drop, leaning forward holding the static line and keeping the equipment bag, ammo and rifle from fouling up on another paratrooper's gear - had to get out the door, leaning forward towards the jump. Nope, our current President wasn't there, he is too young. And although he honors those that were, the living and the dead - he doesn't understand why they went, he hasn't ever had to pay the price for living as an American, he probably thinks those serving in uniform today are doing it professionally for the money. But I know better, they have had to pay the price and understand the cost and they are leaning forward --- just hoping that there is some one watching their back, investing their lives, loves and sacrifices in important points for American Freedom.

Yep, everyone will concentrate on the D-Day Invasion of Normandy, France - 6 June, 1944, but I will honor the calm courage and preparation in meditation that was done on 5 June as they leaned forward ready to give everything they had, in the dark, in the water, up the beach and the cliffs to the hedgerows and on to victory or death. Considering the Economic Crisis, the Education Crisis, the Homeland Defense Crisis and the "can't we all get along?" crisis --- I am much more at home with those leaning forward preparing to attack for all the best of reasons than those hiding behind the headlines, or the media spotlight, hiding in plain sight.

Congress just didn't get the point...

Congress should be smarter, but they really didn't get the point when moving Memorial Day Holiday from the 30th of May to the last Monday of May to make it a three day paid weekend for starting the Summer vacations, sales and barbeques - Congress didn't get the point.

The small town in Washington State that couldn't have a Memorial Day Holiday parade in their town because they were short two thousand dollars - the budget was bust there is an economic crisis - the town leaders didn't get the point.

Everywhere in the World there are lots of Americans that don't get the point - they will miss it completely this weekend and on the 30th.

Okay, you are all better than that - you will remember that eight good men, neighbors were killed by British Soldiers on 19 April 1775, and you will remember that the statue of the Minuteman is fashioned after Captain Isaac Davis of Acton, who died at North Bridge of Concord having led his Minutemen away from Acton, leaving his wife with four sick children. When asked if you could find anyone prepared to fight to the death for our country - I would ask you to name them, and if you were as smart as you could be you would tell me to read the names on the Wall in Washington, DC from Vietnam, or walk those hills in Arlington, or your nearest National Cemetery.

This Memorial Day Holiday - visit the ones that gave all they had, it is their day, it is not Veteran's Day - not a shopping day, not a picnic day, not an end of serious school day - it is the day to remember those that gave, "that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom...." thanks to A. Lincoln, who got the point.

Conversations with my self... the guy I hardly know...

I wake early, dreams of running roads in the military (do they still do that?) individuals, pairs, groups, clumps and platoon to brigade formations running in the morning calling the Sun up, getting the sweat out of the alcohol before the shower will take the stink of Strawberry Hill away. Loved that part of the Army, my life was five mile minimums for so long. I have returned to road work, the foot feels fine the weather is almost perfect and my body protests weakly but that has to do with overcoming the Gravity of the LazyBoy recliner and the Winter fat. I am not going to get seriously into shape - no racing, competitions, Mister Hardbody calls, nope, I am an old man and being able to move is all I want now. You all know that walking thirty miles a day, or jogging with the dogs on the hunt for twenty to twenty-five miles is the base humans were designed for, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year until your teeth were ground down or fell out or competing tribes of other peoples attacked and ate you if you weren't better armed or aggressive. Someone out there thinks we should have talked about it, but there are only so many women around to take and convert to our way.

This is the birthday of several people and the Earth, I guess. Happy Birthday, Wyatt! Melissa! I have only awe of a planet that would put up with me and the rest of Humankind, which aren't too much (kind). Wyatt provides my look at beautiful women that I would never be brave enough to talk to (my favorite war story is when the Miss America contestants were flown into our firebase, and we had to put shirts on, and they were so nice and friendly and I couldn't say one word - not even thanks for being here and being you - nothing, I was so unworthy). Melissa is another Library Keeper, and she called for some of my knowledge yesterday, she didn't get much but not her fault. I found out that she has been to a Boomershoot in her past -- now that makes two library women that are not within their stereotype, the world has more surprises if I just pay attention.

I didn't ride my motorcycle while I was Appleseeding, but the last two days have been right in the perfect and don't miss the opportunity zone (so I haven't), I keep wondering if anyone that doesn't ride a motorcycle understands when I wiggle the bike that it is a reflection of the great fool grin hiding under my face shield? I pick up and load out the Caravan and depart for Idaho today - so my blogging will slow to a stop, I don't have a portable PC which is one step I might make to being electronically leashed, but being frugal (or just plain cheap, take your pick) I travel light. I do have to work on my community service today, the yard must be attacked, clipped, edged and groomed. So I have things to check off my list so the world according to Earl will be as good as he can make it. I tried to clean up the McNeil Island Library yesterday, I had started my day with a little briefing for four visiting ladies, about the library and what we offered the inmate patrons in materials and services, then worked the day through with my three almost four man crew, we haven't seen the last hired since they took him off for mental evaluation. As I am going to Boomershoot I worried about the library, but the Program Manager and my Librarian Supervisor are covering the three days, so all services will remain - and some will be done so much better than I could ever manage. I will get questions about why some things are the way they are, I will get some kind of mention of that isn't the way something is supposed to be done (I miss a lot of memos), but I am always glad if they still let me have the job when I return with all my faults found. My crew has been admonished to report to work on movements not earlier, and I told them that I expect them to report to work and to do the best they can in the library and working with the ladies (they keep saying they want more time in the yard but they aren't serious). They will reveal secrets about their versions of the library operations that I don't even know, and since they are a more mature crew I likely won't hear about how I appear to them from my supervisors when I return. I do know that they will tell me everything that the ladies do that is better than I (okay with that) and all that the ladies didn't do while I was gone that I would have (I do keep explaining that the supervisors still have their own jobs to do at the same time they are keeping the library open - there isn't any slack in our operating staff, everyone has to do more than the Governor and government pays for).

And just to wrap this up, those wonderful women that visited my firebase in Vietnam, had more Field Grade support in cool uniforms with Black Ops guns and air coverage than the poor under strength Infantry platoon that came out of the bush to secure our base while we packed up and departed. I was very proud to lend our shower to the Grunts and show them how to heat the water in the fuel barrel, so they could have a hot one. Would have done it for the ladies but they were flown back to the civilized section of the warzone, with airconditioned trailers, hot water and hot meals. Still thanks for coming by, it is good to remember what we were fighting for.

The noise level is reaching election pitch...

Media is sounding alarms over the shootings, but not enough sorrow. Their entertainment isn't changing from murders, shootings, violence, solving crimes, sex, and the romance of going wrong to presenting moral, uplifting and enriching products to fill the screen. Yes, I do know where the Hallmark Channel is, but I don't normally watch that, and I don't watch most of the trash either, I have too many DVDs and videos with what is enriching when I have the time to be entertained.

Time magazine's cover offered the way to victory in Afghanistan, but I remember the victory in Vietnam they supported and I know Vietnamese that suffered for it. The picture was good, and if that military man would only take his cigarette smoking twenty-five feet away from the doorway it will be legal in Washington State (if he were a prisoner he couldn't smoke).

My wife watching a Korean soap opera commented on my girl friends (you know who you are out there) and I looked at her and laughed - then realized that four couples on the show were talking about their cheating spouses and love interests. Asians have a completely different take on civilized behavior, but because she is presented with the various situations she puts her husband (once a fine figure of a man) in their position and gets a bit miffed and jealous - and I am not worthy of being written into a drama - certainly not about the war between the sexes. It made me think of one of my war stories.

I participated in Vietnam, mostly on a firebase in the middle of nowhere. And there were some Vietnamese that wanted me dead and gone and did discourage me and my fellows from staying - only two major rocket attacks during my ten months there - four rockets each time, four months between reloads, only one did significant damage to a personnel bunker - but I only needed the one to become really impressed with 122mm rockets, knowing the Soviets launched them in salvos. A sister firebase not far away, Firebase Mary Ann, was attacked by sappers in the night and it was up close and personal and not for America a good day. When the Monsoon showed up and the roads washed into muddy mess, and the helicopters couldn't fly for resupply we ate through the food to the C-rats, so that was my war, not much but all mine.

A Major from Battalion came out to inspect, visit, see the Battery and the troops - one of those things good officers will do. He met our commander and First Sergeant, asked questions, looked at the CP, the mess hall, the maintenance area, (probably the facilities for body functions - the officers had a special separate one - although the burning waste smelled the same), and then he started looking into the personal personnel bunkers, to see how we slept, pictures on the walls, books we read and stuff we valued. He did finally lose it, his temper and his cool, when he saw the hunting bow with broadhead arrows one of the gun bunnies had mounted on a twelve by twelve support beam above his bunk. The Major couldn't believe we didn't have better and complete weapons control like they did in the super large headquarters support base where he came from. He tore the bow and arrows from the beam and ranted and raved about the lack of discipline and leadership - and took himself and his good leadership to his aircraft and off our firebase.

I went to the rear twice, once for a two week leadership school, and once for a promotion board, and both times I had to put on my shirt (and wear it all day!) and turn in my M-16 rifle and ammunition until I got ready to leave, or we would be under attack and I would get to line up and be re-issued the rifle and weapon and told where to go fight. That go fight wasn't practiced so I could spend all my time drunk or drugged out of my mind (I didn't) when I didn't have to pay attention to school or my future. They did have a pretty big fraggin' problem in that large headquarters and support base - any is a large problem, but that base was much more than it was at the little base I lived at, and the Major was very aware of how little protection all those locked up weapons and ammunition did for him as he walked the night between the O Club and his hooch, or trailer. On my firebase in the middle of NOWHERE someone threatening another soldier with a weapon wasn't tolerated - we tolerated drug abuse, drunks, disrespect of a humorous vein (smile when you say that), but someone grabbing a weapon with ammunition (all of our weapons had ammunition) would be jumped on by eveyone close, weapon taken, soldier secured and a helicopter and MPs called for to remove said threat. Never got to shoot outs, mostly whatever was the trouble got fixed off base by doctors and UCMJ.

So I don't care if everyone gets issued a weapon and ammunition, and they are responsible for their use and conduct, been there and done that and we didn't wear t-shirts until the cold rains returned. About that registering weapons thing, I have always carried my weapons with numbers registered, and when the government in its greatness issues me a fine modern or historic semi-automatic or automatic (although that is not my first choice) rifle or machine gun I will honor their numbers all my days. Time for breakfast and I never did get to my point, what you think is keeping you safe in major cities Chicago, New York, Washington DC, isn't - Seattle with concealed carry and stuff has a much lower murder rate than those cities and it isn't because of the Latte stands where the lasses wear so little...

I may never have mentioned it but...

I was broken by the end of the Vietnam tour, or molded into the fellow I fool the world with, doesn't matter about the carving me out of the boy and grinding me into a man, but I remain very interested in the military, history and arts of war and will. I follow most of the space combat, good fantasy adventures and techno-thrillers. I have followed Stephen Hunter since Master Sniper - love both Earl (my Name!) and Bob Lee Swagger (Robert E. Lee is one of my heroes) and in the 47th Samurai I find another Vietnam Vet that is sixty and still a dangerous old man - certainly more dangerous than I could ever claim to be - nice story, fairy tale ending, but nice story.

Jerry Pournelle answers a question about an Introduction he made to a David Drake book titled Hammer's Slammers. It is titled "Mercenaries and Military Virtue" and worth the read, but then I am not giving up my copy of that book. I hear rumblings that Andy Rooney doesn't see any heroes now in America, and I laugh knowing where they all are - and they aren't in the media circles that Andy hangs with, the celebrities and politicians of note (they aren't risking anything for others, are they?). Andy saw heroes, he knows they exist but knows the current culture tries to make them out fools and foolish -- the stuff of myth and legends - fairy tales. In the age of Reason one needs the Romantic, in the era of Romance only those ruled by Reason prevail... or something like that. The heroes are all out there, getting up every day to fight the dragons, to bring in the treasures, to risk it all for someone else, for others in need, for the fears before the deed. But when victory is in the number of dollars one has control of - there isn't a culture appreciating heroes - just the greedy grubbers that haven't been caught. Shame - less, and without Honor - not the stuff of my heroes.

Not much here, but any story is better than none...

I got on my morning ferry, looking for that seat to nap upon, and under the seat across from me was a five dollar bill, the new Lincoln in colors and tricks. I pick it up and wonder at my luck, I need half a million or so, but five dollars is a start. Where did it come from? The last trip from the island brought most of the third shift off and the students, those kids that live on the island and commute to school by ferry. Since adults use wallets or money clips I go with the thought that it is some kid's lunch money and got lost along the way. I give it to the Security Chief on my way off the ferry, tell him where it was found and what I thought. I don't need five dollars, I can actually carry cash for days now so I will wait on that mythical Lotto win of MILLIONS, and hope the kid got to eat somehow.

Aside from thinking that I am dying from electronic entertainment I really don't like watching entertainment and then having to wait for the next piece of action after four to eight commercials, that is really wasting my time. Since my wife is at a Revival I will put the Blues on and read "The Chronicles of Malus Darkblade" volume one, by Dan Abnett & Mike Lee. I will be out for a bit, somewhere else where everything is falling apart, and Assault Swords are probably illegal, never mind magical. I think too often that we (the People) keep waiting on that Hero and Leader that is going to solve our problems - but Sam Adams and John Hancock weren't the folks that fought the British all the way back to Boston, they were politicians - they needed the fathers, the farmers, the craftsmen, the men without title nor honors - just steady, brave and true and they needed a lot of them. And they came forth, the real heroes are legion, the political celebrities are noted... and thanked by History.

Okay, the splash landing was the best...

I was impressed with the landing on the Hudson River, and more impressed that the pilot hasn't been all over television talking about it. My father was a pilot and made some of the softest landings I have ever had, in some of the finest farmland in America. But I was thinking that there are thousands of professionals in their work that could do it even when everything goes bad, and if they can't they still die trying to do it right.

I went to see Defiance today, a movie from a time long ago, and far away. Still, I liked the movie, and understand the critics - but then they never lived in a time when people die beside you, behind you and in droves, they haven't lived with the lie that being a Jew means you are inferior and won't fight, they haven't lived with the lie that hiding will keep you safe, which is as bad as the one that says fighting will keep you safe. I will have to try and read the book, because the movie doesn't tell me enough about the brothers and what they did to survive and save 1200, not an insignificant number when people are dying by the millions. Having studied some about resistance and guerrilla warfare I want to know about the tactics. I have laughed too long about the survivalists that I think have little training in combat operations, but then I could be wrong. I have been so before. And then they came to America and built a life and a trucking company?

The things I learn on the Internet...

From Doubletapper, that other seasonal holiday, Chanuka Festival. Well worth reading.

Willie's Wednesday

I finished up in the library, left it ready to open on Friday, most of my work will be waiting on my return Monday. I am going off to learn, to study, to challenge myself and perhaps to shoot. Big storm coming in this weekend - a real tree toppler, power outages and terror. But I am off to do what I have to do. As I do, and y'all fix the financial crisis with the Congress and the coming Car Czar (why do we pick up Russian Imperialism? Weren't they overcome by Communists?). Anyway, the important story that I leave you with - isn't written by me but is so real to those that have been, Tale of Two Wars, from the Sandbox, of course. Take care out there, someone loves ya.

Veterans Day, who and where are they...

I studied a bit of history, my mother made me - thanks, Mom! And I know that Veterans Day wasn't always such, it was Armistice Day, when the guns fell silent. The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month and the guns fell silent. That must have been wonderful and a bit unbelievable for the trench rats and their brethren the mud slogging combatants of the Great War, a perfect peace later ruined by politicians at large elegant tables with papers and punishment and plunder on their minds, such little men.

What I knew of Veterans from my early years was that they were the stuff of legends, they were the backbone of the troop formations and armies that I read about. They were the stiffening and the perfection of deadly thrust and totally unafraid in the face of thousands. I knew about the 300, about Napoleon's Old Guard at Waterloo. All that from the stories, movies and television - boy, did I know veterans and what they were good for. Of course being a Boomer, I was living with a veteran, his Ike jacket hung in his closet with his ribbons and patches on it, there was a Japanese saber, a pistol belt and an M1 bayonet, too. I didn't understand what that meant to him, why The Gallant Men and Combat! , some of my favorite shows, didn't excite him or even entertain him. Being a high school graduate of 1966, I knew the godless Communists were waiting for me in Vietnam, although I did waste a semester in Coral Gables before I went off to become a soldier. My father did tell me that I wouldn't like it as we said good-bye.

So I had to learn to go where I was sent, do what they wanted me to do, to do it well and to understand they would punish me for my failures and foolishness. Although the foolishness was always so much fun, I did have enough pride to really work at war and becoming a soldier.

I guess that I started to consider myself a veteran by the time I was a Drill Sergeant, I had served in Korea, Germany and Vietnam, had bit unfriendly fire in Korea and Vietnam and had done just fine. My father finally talked to me a bit about his war when I came back from Vietnam - he only had Leyete and Okinawa, as a Combat Engineer and a teenager - the year he lost being nineteen. His brother was in Italy and mentioned that he was glad he hadn't earned a bronze arrowhead on his campaign ribbons, that was given to the assault forces, my father had one. Another veteran in my life, my uncle earned a commission in Italy and stayed in the Army through the early Cold War years. I thought he was too tough on his sons, but then he had four of them. My grandfather, the Methodist minister and missionary to El Cerro in Montevideo, he had served in the American forces in France in the Great War, he hadn't served in combat duties since he was a Pacifist but he did serve. He spent most of his life working for International Peace.

My mother is still pushing History at me, yesterday's email:

Remember our ancestor   Jabez
Cleveland  who died in the Battle of Bunker hill. And our other
ancestor  who fought in the Revolutionary war, as a member of the
Virginia Militia, he was an Archer (last name, don't know his first
name).In the Civil War only Don's family fought in it.

Those Civil War veterans were named Bauer,
which in German (where they came from) means farmer or peasant.  Which
gets me to my point about Veterans Day, I have a point, really.

The Veterans that really ought to be thanked, are the ones that went to
battle and came home and built a life away from the terror and turmoil
of combat, that work hard to keep their children and grandchildren from
the fear and outright terror of killing or being killed by other men
trying their best to live through it all and get home to build a
different life. Don't get me wrong, most of them have exactly the same
courage to put on the war gear and go out and face the fury again, but
they also have the discipline to build that better life, the patience
to put up with a little stupidity and discomfort for the future, and
the intelligence to want to have Peace and know when it is time to go
back to War.  And to the unknown woman with daughter and husband that
stopped to tell me that she thanked me for my service in Vietnam, me
the tough guy that couldn't break through the fragile armor that hid my
pain to say anything - I want to say Thank you for that little touch of
kindness, it has always meant so much.  A Nurse and a Marine
are veterans worth reading, but there are thousands of stories out
there, think about the Veterans and those young people in uniform
becoming Veterans as I speak.

For something in Support of Veterans' Day

Virtual Veteran's Day - An Open Letter To Milbloggers

I am an airborne Vietnam through Gulf War I veteran, all 27 years and five months and a day of serving the United States of America and our allies, many of which fought beside me in some bad places. I have never felt the need for Veteran's Day, but I always wanted the country to accept my service and that of all the others that wore the uniform -- and I have always felt betrayed by my countrymen and politicians for Vietnam (not the fighting there - for the laughing at us being fools enough to think we had honor and dignity - Clinton, Gore and others were so much smarter about deferments and getting out of country early - because they were smarter and better than us). Sorry about the bitterness, but it is still there and won't go away this Vet's Day. Be a better person than I, and support your service people - don't throw them away, they will give everything for your protection - everything.

Flipped one calendar five more to go...

Yes, it is November, time to change the calendar to reflect reality - some months it is two weeks before I get to the last calendar - time is relative? I had to check blogs after my measuring, and leave a note or two - don't give up on Halloween - for all the little ones especially.

I know very little about music, I like it, I support it, and it isn't on my list of talents nor goals - but I am singing in the choir until the younger men take up the slack... and that could be a bit. Anyway I was recommended to listen to a beautiful woman. Younger, really beautiful, lady... and being me I was happy to go chasing after her - don't ever want to catch one, it is the prancing after the thought that thrills me. Well I found her and listened and was happy - sometimes waiting on the loading is worth the wait and then I noticed another song by the same fine voice and it called to me, being who I am and where I've been and what I know about the world.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep every so often there are wonders in the world worth sharing.

You know, it isn't the Economy that will kill me...

No, I will be fine, no matter who becomes President. What is going to kill me is the America that isn't at war. The America that thinks someone else is going to protect us, heal us and be our heroes. I have a story to tell in November, and it is about a time and a country when people took responsibility and acted. No, I went to the Sandbox and saw what Clara had written and remembered that I wasn't at war, I wasn't following, I wasn't leading and I wasn't doing more than wearing a magnetic We Support the Troops ribbon on my Caravan. You and I aren't paying attention to the cost, too comfortable, but listen. Not enough turmoil in your vision of harmony? Well, this is another way of looking all around you.

Tough talk about shooting last weekend, how hard it is without Internet connections at work, the cable guy that comes late and makes me miss work for a day. I am the absent American, too busy to make sure the right people get into government - elected and hired for that dream that became so selfish. How did I forget? Patriot Guard Riders are out honoring fallen Veterans, current service personnel and past ones. I have been too busy to ride? I am surrounded by serving soldiers and I should talk more with them - don't want them to end up as broken as a young sergeant I remember once was. Well, close the day with a prayer to help all those wounded fighting on out there - especially the ones that really care and need to share their burden and their pain. Good night and sleep well, for your brightest and best are off at their country's behest, and you have diss'd them too much, too often and too long.

Nothing much to report today...

Did some serious thinking about my M1, so I went and found my father's bayonet from the Pacific War. It all fits, the M1 Garand and M1 bayonet with M7 scabbard. There were longer M1905 bayonets around from WWI, but ten inches of American steel is probably enough, the current bayonets are much shorter, but then the entire rifle is shorter isn't it? I then went looking for bayonet drills, and the Nineteenth Century was full of them.

I had rifle PT and bayonet drill with an M14 in 1967, thought it could be useful in the wrong places during bad times. I know that constant contact with and care of the rifle was helpful long before they took us to shooting bullets with it. It was never heavy, other things like radios, rations and rain gear was always heavy, but the rifle and bullets never seemed heavy. Carrying ammunition for the machine gunner was a bit of a burden, but part of the price one paid for all that suppressive fire. I never really believed in suppressive fire, I would call on mortars or artillery to really knock them down, and I never had to carry their ammunition nor haul their weapons.

Well, time to watch the third DVD on Mind Over Matter, and practice my shooting positions - it is really nice to have a weapon that feels strong and fits well. I am delaying my shooting with it, but then raising the suspense is heating up the seduction. Who is being seduced? well, it must be me or the rifle.

Just thinking about this great gun debate...

I have enjoyed reading about the pistols, Colts, S&W, Glock, and others - love passion exposed. But I have been a bit uncomfortable with the 2nd Amendment Right nonsense - about the people being armed so the government will respond to them. That doesn't work for me, in a country where the longer movies are almost three hours, somehow the people start to expect that rebellion would last a couple months max... one season and we will have their attention. Never happen, it would never happen that fast and never will it be easy.

First, Rebellion is the last thing intelligent people want, sane ones certainly. I think I can talk and vote the fools out of office and work to do good things daily with the people around me.

If there were, for some terrible reason, a complete collapse of good government and responsible adult citizens then I know what I would be doing. Not picking up the rifle and a couple of bullets, and my favorite pistol - they would be with me already. Nope, I would be looking for people that I can join and go get some artillery and rounds - 105mm or 155mm, some anti-tank stuff, some tanks, I am with Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys, the enemy would have more weapons than warriors, go get the weapons. See, the 2nd Amendment isn't about WAR, it is about defending the Free State - if the politicians stole it away, get better politicians and re-establish it.

The other thing that has made me uncomfortable about the Gun Thing is the ease some people talk about shooting other people, even practicing fast draws and multiple targets and various situations - which are great fun, aren't reality. Nice people don't go looking to shoot other people, crazy people go looking to shoot other people, nice people use gun control to make sure only a crazy person dies by their well aimed shots.

There is a war on, I have visited other battlefields, and remember how fickle America and its media are with wars that are dangerous and can't sell many products as a REALITY show. So I will give you a link to that war, mostly under-reported for many reasons. 173rd in Afghanistan. I can read their story, and figure out how I would have tried to do it, had I been there - but I am not but their story and talking to them about how they fight off a larger enemy force - well armed, well led, and insistent on winning a to the death struggle. And I can try to make sure they have real support for their efforts, no fun to fight alone and unwanted.

Yeah, the Great Gun Rights debate is pretty much meaningless to me - like I am a cowboy hero that will save the day - or some super anti-hero killing fifty drug dealers daily - it isn't going to happen except in Hollywood, and the ladies and laddies there seem to have screws and morals loose, they can't cut it in real life unless they are special and away from California. You want combat effectiveness? You teach your children to cooperate, to be brave, to learn, to pay the price for victory -- and you can't buy that, you can pay in support but you can't buy victory in war. Nope, costs a whole lot of love to achieve victory in battle and it makes me sad to see that America is going to listen to the media; who say the Economy is key to the Presidential election. My vote will go to the leader that understands War, its importance. I also know that only the value of the dollar is controlled in Washington DC, the economy is built on the backs of the people engaged in commerce.

Sorry, I am rambling, while watched taped delay NBC Olympic coverage - sorry, no Gun Debate here - every citizen has the Right to keep and bear a weapon, with it the responsibility to defend the Free State (is your state really free?).

What makes your heart pump, baby?

I have been thinking about firearms, getting older and shaky. So I have been getting ready to move on to area weapons - Demolitions! Demo! Fire in the Hole! say it three times and light that fuse. I have an aversion to electrical detonators from personal experience and blood shed, of course I was younger then and I can handle it now - but don't have to like it.

Something great about making the Earth move, read all about the wonder. And if you get real good, the implosion booms are waiting... to hire you.