Musings of the Chronologically Challenged™ Fourth Generation

 
ISSUES

When my Number 2 Grandson lived with me for several years, I frequently called him "Grasshopper." No, not because he reminded me of the hero in the Kungfu tv show, but because he was a deadringer for the grasshopper in the Aesop fable. #2GS was also a musician, just like the Aesop grasshopper. If you don't remember the story, a google will tell you all about how the grasshopper played his fiddle all summer with not a care in the world. Winter brought cold and hunger, but the grasshopper had procrastinated and literally "fiddled" the summer away. Alas! He died. This was supposed to be a parable for teaching #2GS the value of planning ahead. Yeah, right.

So my Blogson is always telling me "time flies when you're having so much fun" and sure enough, time has flown by and I find myself feeling a whole lot like a grasshopper. Been telling myself for weeks to go ahead and write the two rants fulminating in my alimentary canal, but I was just having too much fun stressing for Christmas, traveling, seeing my doctor, etc., etc. Still, I refuse to carry these issues around in a trouble sack in 2005, so there must be a purge, albeit, there is not enough time now to do a decent job of ranting. Token Readers' Digest versions to follow.

Issue One -- Norton
In an effort to "protect" my computers and myself from the evils of the internet, I installed Norton's $70 package on each pc. The only obvious change I've noticed as a result of this $140 investment is that porn pics are now blocked. Spam is alive and thriving. Out of 50 spam emails, Norton sometimes catches 4 or 5. It seems I am not getting my money's worth. Now the kicker: There is nowhere in the known cosmos that I can find where I may communicate with Norton regarding this problem. No email address. No telephone number. Not even a snail mail address. As a last resort, I'm blogging my dilemma TO THE WORLD in the hope that someone will know someone who will email me at indigoinsightsathotmaildotcom with a suggestion. Any reputable company I've ever done business with would offer a refund or alternate. But any company that goes incommunicado as soon as they get your credit card number is probably not concerned with their reputation. I'm hoping some Norton CEOs are bloggers!

Issue Two -- Nationwide Insurance
This is such a hot item for my BP that I must be brief. Bottom line: Although my darling Rottweiler is eight years old, has lived in the house all her life, sleeps with me, loves children and guests, and hangs out and exchanges face washes with cats, a "surprise" Nationwide representative suddenly appeared at my door and saw a Rottweiler! The woman rep heard barking and saw KJ the Rott thru the glass door. It was heat therapy time when she knocked on my bedroom door and I talked to her through the door. She advised me she was from Nationwide and wanted to do an on site inspection of the property and take some outdoor measurements. I said -fine- and went back to my heat session. Later, after she had left, I noticed a baggie hanging on the door knob. She had left a "report of her findings" for me to see and sign and return. She could find no hazards or anything amiss with my property other than there was a Rottweiler INSIDE MY HOUSE!!! A few telephone calls later with my agent, wherein I refused to "get rid of the dog" accomplished nothing. In the more than 10 years that Nationwide has been my insurance carrier, there has been one claim due to liability: a fender bender in a parking lot. They've about got the coverage down to practically no exposure now, other than the worst possible disaster, since they put a $1,000 deductible on any claim for wind and water damage. I assume the house would be covered for fire unless they could prove the Rottweiler struck the match! Even murderers are considered innocent until proven guilty, but my wussy doggie is perceived as guilty before she even does anything. Blatant discrimination against color! Obviously, Nationwide is prejudiced against black and tan.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

OK. Thanks for listening. My spleen feels much better and I'm not carrying these thorns over into the new year.

posted by HCL at 7:54 PM

 
INCOMING
from Christina, Swansboro, NC

Received this today from my friend, Christina, whose son-in-law is a USMC officer. Whether authentic or not (I haven't researched) it's an outstanding letter. The heading on the original email was "This will make you proud of your service men and women!!" I would add "AGAIN" to that introduction. --B. Indigo


Letter from an Air Force Reservist:

Gentlemen,

I just wanted to share with all of you my most recent Air Force Reserve trip. As most of you know, I have decided to go back into the Air Force Reserves as a part time reservist and after 6 months of training, I have recently been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and have been fully mission qualified as an Aircraft Commander of a KC-135R strato tanker aircraft.

On Friday of last week, my crew and I were tasked with a mission to provide air refueling support in order to tanker 6 F-16's over to Incirlik Air Base in Turkey. We were then to tanker back to the states, 6 more F-16's that were due maintenance. It started out as a fairly standard mission - one that I have done many times as an active duty Captain in my former jet - the KC10a extender.

We dragged the F-16's to Moron Air Base in Spain where we spent the night and then finished the first part of our mission the next day by successfully delivering them to Incirlik. When I got on the ground in Turkey, I received a message to call the Tanker Airlift Control Center that my mission would change. Instead of tankering the F-16's that were due maintenance, I was cut new orders to fly to Kuwait City and pick up 22 "HR's" and return them to Dover Air Force Base in Delaware.

It had been a while since I had heard of the term "HR" used, and as I pondered what the acronym could possibly stand for, when it dawned on me that it stood for human remains. There were 22 fallen comrades who had just been killed in the most recent attacks in Fallujah and Baghdad, Iraq over the last week.

I immediately alerted the crew of the mission change and although they were exhausted due to an ocean crossing, the time change and minimum ground time in Spain for crew rest, we all agreed that it was more important to get these men back to their families as soon as possible.

We were scheduled to crew rest in Incirlik, Turkey for the evening and start the mission the next day. Instead, we decided to extend/continue our day and fly to Kuwait in order to pick up our precious cargo. While on the flight over to Kuwait, I knew that there were protocol procedures for accepting and caring for human remains, however, in my 13 years of active duty service, I never once had to refer to this regulation. As I read the regulation on the flight over, I felt prepared and ready to do the mission.

My game plan was to pick up the HR's and turn around to fly to Mildenhal Air Base in England, spend the night, and then fly back the next day. This was the quickest way to get them home, considering the maximum crew duty day that I could subject my crew to legally and physically. I really pushed them to the limits but no one complained at all.

I thought that I was prepared for the acceptance of these men until we landed at Kuwait International. I taxied the jet over to a staging area where the honor guard was waiting to load our soldiers. I stopped the jet and the entire crew was required to stay on board. We opened the cargo door, and according to procedure, I had the crew line up in the back of the aircraft in formation and stand at attention. As the cargo loader brought up the first pallet of caskets, I ordered the crew to "Present Arms".

Normally, we would snap a salute at this command, however, when you are dealing with a fallen soldier, the salute is a slow 3 second pace to position. As I stood there and finally saw the first four of twenty-two caskets draped with the American Flags, the reality had hit me. As the Marine Corps honor guard delivered the first pallet on board, I then ordered the crew to "Order Arms" - where they rendered an equally slow 3 second return to the attention position. I then commanded the crew to assume an at ease position and directed them to properly place the pallet.

The protocol requires that the caskets are to be loaded so when it comes time to exit the aircraft - they will go head first. We did this same procedure for each and every pallet until we could not fit any more.I felt a deep pit in my stomach when there were more caskets to be brought home and that they would have to wait for the next jet to come through. I tried to do everything in my power to bring more home but I had no more space on board. When we were finally loaded, with our precious cargo and fueled for the trip back to England, a Marine Corps Colonel from first battalion came on board our jet in order to talk to us. I gathered the crew to listen to him and his words of wisdom.

He introduced himself and said that it is the motto of the Marines to leave no man behind and it makes their job easier knowing that there were men like us to help them complete this task. He was very grateful for our help and the strings that we were pulling in order to get this mission done in the most expeditious manner possible. He then said, "Major Zarnik - these are MY MARINES and I am giving them to you. Please take great care of them as I know you will". I responded with telling him that they are my highest priority and that although this was one of the saddest days of my life, we are all up for the challenge and will go above and beyond to take care of your Marines - "Semper Fi, Sir" A smile came on his face and he responded with a loud and thunderous, "Ooo Rah".

He then asked me to please pass along to the families that these men were extremely brave and had made the ultimate sacrifice for their country and that we appreciate and empathize with what they are going through at this time of their grievance. With that, he departed the jet and we were on our way to England.

I had a lot of time to think about the men that I had the privilege to carry. I had a chance to read the manifest on each and every one of them.I read about their religious preferences, their marital status, the injuries that were their cause of death. All of them were under age 27 with most in the 18-24 range. Most of them had wives and children. They had all been killed by an " IED" which I can only deduce as an incendiary explosive device like rocket propelled grenades. Mostly fatal head injuries and injuries to the chest area. I could not even imagine the bravery that they must have displayed and the agony suffered in this God Forsaken War. My respect and admiration for these men and what they are doing to help others in a foreign land is beyond calculation. I know that they are all with God now and in a better place.

The stop in Mildenhal was uneventful and then we pressed on to Dover where we would meet the receiving Marine Corps honor guard. When we arrived, we applied the same procedures in reverse. The head of each casket was to come out first. This was a sign of respect rather than defeat. As the honor guard carried each and every American flag covered casket off of the jet, they delivered them to awaiting families with military hearses. I was extremely impressed with how diligent the HonorGuard had performed the seemingly endless task of delivering each of the caskets to the families without fail and with precision. There was not a dry eye on our crew or in the crowd. The Chaplain then said a prayer followed by a speech from Lt. Col. Klaus of the second Battalion. In his speech, he also reiterated similar condolences to the families as the Colonel from First Battalion back in Kuwait.

I then went out to speak with the families as I felt it was my duty to help console them in this difficult time. Although I would probably be one of the last military contacts that they would have for a while - the military tends to take care of its own. I wanted to make sure that they did not feel abandoned and more than that appreciated for their ultimate sacrifice.

It was the most difficult thing that I have ever done in my life. I listened to the stories of each and every one that I had come in contact with and they all displayed a sense of pride during an obviously difficult time. The Marine Corps had obviously prepared their families well for this potential outcome.

So, why do I write this story to you all? I just wanted to put a little personal attention to the numbers that you hear about and see in the media. It is almost like we are desensitized by all of the "numbers" of our fallen comrades coming out of Iraq. I heard one commentator say that "it is just a number". Are you kidding me? These are our American Soldiers not numbers!

It is truly a sad situation that I hope will end soon. Please hug and embrace your loved ones a little closer and know that there are men and women out there who are defending you and trying to make this a better world.

Please pray for their families and when you hear the latest statistics and numbers of our soldiers killed in combat, please remember this story. It is the only way that I know to more personalize these figures and have them truly mean something to us all.

Thanks for all of your support for me and my family as I take on this new role in completing my Air Force Career and supporting our country. I greatly appreciate all of your comments, gestures and prayers.May God Bless America, us all, and especially the United States Marine Corps. Semper Fi!

(usma1956) Posted by: LANG Kenneth E 1956 20973 B2 <Bat@ccsi.com>

posted by HCL at 4:26 PM

 
A FINAL CHRISTMAS POEM

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,
completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep;
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep
in perfect contentment, or so it would seem.
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
but I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
and I crept to the door just to see who was near.
And there, out in the cold and the dark of the night,
a lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve.
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,
to the window that danced with a warm fire's light.
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right, I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."

"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
that separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me.
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

"My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December," Then he sighed,
"That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
and now it is my turn and so, here I am.

"I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
but my wife sends me pictures. He's sure got her smile."
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
the red, white, and blue... an American flag.

"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet.
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

"I can carry the weight of killing another,
or lay down my life with my sister and brother
who stand at the front against any and all
to ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright.
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do? At the least,
give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?

"It seems all too little for all that you've done,
for being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget
to fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
to stand your own watch, no matter how long.

"For when we come home, either standing or dead,
to know you remember we fought and we bled,
is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

UPDATE: Here too. Sorry for oversight, Rivrdog.

posted by HCL at 10:34 PM

 
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Original version with musical background


Leaving for a Christmas visit in Greenville. It may be December 27 before I get back.

Wishing all the blessings and love of Christmas for you and your families in this holiday season and throughout the coming new year.

Peace



posted by HCL at 3:58 AM

 
CHRISTMASLANCHE

Thanks again to my friend, John, in New Jersey for e-mailing to me the touching Christmas poem, The Sands of Christmas. It seems bloggers and readers of blogs appreciated it too, John. And thanks to Baldilocks and Sgt.Stryker for the links and the resulting surprise Christmaslanche. But most of all, thanks to the GIs of every service, rank and gender who inspired the poem. As the poem says, "You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay."



PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< The DoubleMint twins joined the Marine Corps?

>^..^< Sam's done it again!! Redecorated, that is. Oh, and follow the ongoing saga of the "cute" controversy. This may come to a vote.



REFLECTIONS OF GREAT MINDS

James Bovard, Civil Libertarian (1994): Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.

Douglas Casey, Classmate of Bill Clinton: Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.

Will Rogers: I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts.

Mark Twain: No man's life, liberty, or property is safe while the legislature is in session.

Winston Churchill: The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of the blessings. The inherent blessing of socialism is the equal sharing of misery.

Pericles (430 B.C.): Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you.



SENIOR NEWS FLASH

California vintners in the Napa Valley area that primarily produce Pinot Blanc and Pinot Grigio have developed a new hybrid grape that acts as an anti-diuretic and will reduce the number of trips an older person has to make to the bathroom during the night. They will be marketing the new wine as Pinot More.



JOKES FROM DICK & JANE

During his speech at my cousin's graduation, Bill Cosby was making the point that true wisdom comes not from a classroom but from life. When he was in college, he said, his class endlessly discussed the question: Is the glass half full or half empty? So Cosby asked his grandmother the same question. She had it all figured out: "Depends on whether you're pouring or drinking."


My mother was away all weekend at a business conference. During a break, she decided to call home collect. My six-year-old brother picked up the phone and heard a stranger's voice say, "We have a Marcia on the line. Will you accept the charges?" Frantic, he dropped the receiver and came charging outside screaming, "Dad! They've got Mom! And they want money!"

While she was visiting my home recently, my sister nudged me and pointed to a line of new plants I had placed by the kitchen window. "Look," she whispered, "death row."









posted by HCL at 11:55 PM

 
PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx


>^..^< Marine for Life Program

>^..^< All Things Southern is a great site, found over at Gone South. Thanks for this one, Janis.

>^..^< Baldilocks had a nice feature on a blog from my only friend in france, Jack of Random Fate. Like I said before, Jack's head is planted firmly. But then, so is Baldilocks'.

>^..^< Deudderson has returned to his blog. Looks like sports has invigorated him. But Philadelphia? Who knew? Hey Deud, I worked with the Eagles in my previous life!!!

>^..^< Mamamontezz uses one of her unique poems, The Twelve Days of Christmas, Baghdad Style to remind us of how great a package from home is. If you have procrastinated and can't make it in time for Christmas, a Happy New Year package would be a wonderful surprise too!

>^..^< "Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared." – Buddha [December 8 marked Rohatsu, the day the Buddha achieved enlightenment. How much do you know about Buddhist enlightenment? Take the quiz.]


INCOMING
from Kristi, Greenville, NC

Buying Stamps for Hanukkah
A woman goes to the post office to buy stamps for her Hanukkah cards.
She says to the clerk, "May I have 50 Hanukkah stamps?"
The clerk says, "What denomination?"
The woman replies, "Oh my. Has it come to this? Give me 6 Orthodox, 12 Conservative, and 32 Reform."


INCOMING
from Karl, Hubert, NC

Subject: Passport
A group of Americans, retired teachers, recently went to France on a tour. Robert Whiting, an elderly gentleman of 83, arrived in Paris by plane. At French Customs, he took a few minutes to locate his passport in his carry on bag.

"You have been to France before, monsieur?" the customs officer asked sarcastically. Mr. Whiting admitted that he had been to France previously. "Then you should know enough to have your passport ready."

Mr. Whiting replied, "The last time I was here, I didn't have to show my passport"

"Impossible. Americans always have to show your passports on arrival in France!"

The American senior gave the French customs officer a long hard look. Then he quietly explained: "Well, when I came ashore at Omaha Beach on D-Day in 1944 to help liberate this country, I couldn't find any Frenchmen to show it to!"









posted by HCL at 8:51 AM

 
Merry Christmas, My Friend

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.

Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.


Here's The Rest of the Story - and yes, it was originally written by a Marine. http://www.snopes.com/holidays/christmas/soldier.asp

posted by HCL at 11:01 AM

 
SURPRISE! SURPRISE!!


A Christmas Elf, who also happens to be a computer geek and MY NUMBER ONE GRANDDAUGHTER, stopped by my house and gave me a blogroll for Christmas! To all of the great bloggers who have so kindly blogrolled Indigo when there was no reciprocation -- JUST THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!!!
I've tried to get recips up in my blogroll, but if I missed any of you, please email me at indigoinsights@hotmail.com and let me know. Many of you have carried me for a long time and I surely do appreciate your cyber friendship.


posted by HCL at 8:53 PM

 
BACK TO BACK POEMS

There won't be much personal writing going on here as long as email this beautiful comes in.


INCOMING
from John, New Jersey


The Sands of Christmas

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
and looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix,
My stocks were down another point, the Dolphins lost by six.

And so with only minutes till my son got home from school,
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
and so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust;
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
eight hummers ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens,
Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MRE's.

They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,
They didn't need an ornament-- they lacked a Christmas Tree.
They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,
the only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition".

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side.
He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

There's nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight,
our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
to worry about the things in life that really mean nothing at all,
instead of wondering each day if we will be the next to fall.

He looked at me as children do and said it's always right,
to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote,

God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.
The gift you give, you share with all, a present every day,
You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay.

~~ Author Unknown


posted by HCL at 8:46 PM

 
Today was going to be a non-blogging day, and then this poem arrived in the morning email from Jimmy of Ayden, NC. Jimmy is retired Air Force of the Korean era. The poem says it all as to how he feels. And me too! Our generation is too close to Normandy not to feel a bit of resentment for the flighty french. -- Indigo...


A FRENCH POEM
WRITTEN BY AN AMERICAN PATRIOT

Eleven thousand soldiers
lay beneath the dirt and stone,
all buried on a distant land
so far away from home.

For just a strip of dismal beach
they paid a hero's price,
to save a foreign nation
they all made the sacrifice.

And now the shores of Normandy
are lined with blocks of white:
Americans who didn't turn
from someone else's plight.

Eleven thousand reasons
for the French to take our side,
but in the moment of our need,
they chose to run and hide.

Chirac said every war means loss,
perhaps for France that's true,
for they've lost every battle
since the days of Waterloo.

Without a soldier worth a damn
to be found within the region,
the French became the only land
to need a Foreign Legion.

You French all say we're arrogant.
Well, we've earned the right--
we saved your sorry nation
when you lacked the guts to fight.

But now you've made a big mistake,
and one that you'll regret;
you took sides with our enemies,
and that we won't forget.

It wasn't just our citizens
you spit on when you turned,
but every one of yours
who fell the day the towers burned.

You spit upon our soldiers,
on our pilots and Marines,
and now you'll get a little sense
of just what payback means.

So keep your Paris fashions,
your wine and your champagne,
and find some other market
that will buy your airplanes.

And try to find somebody else
to wear your French cologne,
for you're about to find out
what it means to stand alone.

You see, you need us far more
than we ever needed you.
America has better friends
who know how to be true.

I'd rather stand with warriors
who have the will and might,
than huddle in the dark
with those whose only flag is white.

I'll take the Brits, the Aussies,
the Israelis and the rest,
for when it comes to valor
we have seen that they're the best.

We'll count on one another
as we face a moment dire,
while you sit on the sideline
with a sign, "friendship for hire."

We'll win this war without you
and we'll total up the cost,
and take it from your foreign aid,
and then you'll feel the loss.

And when your nation starts to fall,
well, Frenchie, you can spare us,
just call the Germans for a hand,
they know the way to Paris.



posted by HCL at 10:11 AM

 
PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< From time to time it has been necessary for Indigo to remind some people (who shall be nameless!) that Women Marines are to be admired and respected along with their male brothers. Blackfive thinks so too. See his blog The Fewer, The Prouder, The Women Marines. The MSM missed the letter Lance Corporal Jessica K. in Iraq wrote to her parents about her Thanksgiving in Fallujah. Don't know how that could have happened, but you can go to the link and read it. Semper Fi, Ladies!!

>^..^< Jen Martinez posts a letter from USMC and Vietnam Combat Veteran, Joseph Anderson, to Fox News. He opines that they may not be so "fair and balanced" after all. Read it here.

>^..^< A lot of research and effort by Patti Bader makes Iraq War Today another dependable blog for getting timely war news. Also visit the Soldiers' Angels.

>^..^< Pennywit blogged:
Students at the University of North Carolina at Asheville have formed three group blogs. As I understand it, at least two of these blogs (possibly three) have their genesis in a mass media and politics class that, among other things, examined the role of blogs in this year's election. Give them a read. --PW
[Aside to PW: You won't believe this, I know, but I can't remember my password!!! Plus, your email is being returned!]

>^..^< Chris McGehee (Mrs. Kevin) is Catblogging - much to my delight!

>^..^< GOC in Atlanta linked to Mullings a couple of days ago. If you missed it, here's another chance. It's a hoot and I'm rereading and relaughing.

>^..^< Visited Jack at Random Fate lately? Try him. You'll like him. His head is always planted firmly on his shoulders - which is refreshing in bloggers, don't you think?

>^..^< Armstrong Williams on Mfume's "retirement" Via link from Betsy's Page

>^..^< Vote for your favorite blogs in the 2004 Weblog Awards.

>^..^< Another "Help Needed" campaign -- but all that's needed is a little of your time. So little to you, so much to our troops. Read all about it at SlagleRock.

>^..^< indigoinsights[at]hotmail[dot]com (just in case)

REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR!!



REFLECTIONS OF GREAT MINDS

Mark Twain: Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.

Winston Churchill: I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.

George Bernard Shaw: A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul.

P.J. O'Rourke: Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.

Voltaire (1764): In general, the art of government consists in taking as much money as possible from one party of the citizens to give to the other.

* SEVEN DEADLY SINS *
Wealth without work,
Pleasure without conscience,
Knowledge without character,
Commerce without morality,
Science without humanity,
Worship without sacrifice, and
Politics without principle.
~~ Mahatma Gandhi



posted by HCL at 1:06 AM

 
SEASON'S GREETINGS Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines -

An exuberant HAPPY HOLIDAYS wish from Swansboro, NC! Want you to know you're in my thoughts and prayers every day and I am ever so grateful for what you're doing over there for your country, and by extension, me! Incidentally, I've been thanking you guys and gals since WWII! You make us proud!!

B. Manning

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

OK, E-Mail People: That's my letter for the Letters To The Troops campaign. This is a real effort from a fellow blogger, SlagleRock, (active duty) and great guy. Will you take a couple of minutes to send some of your personal words? Here's what it's about:
B.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

December 25, 2004
Letters To The Troops For The Holidays (Help From All Bloggers Part 2)
As I am sure you noticed this post is dated December 25, 2004. It will remain on top of my site until then as that is it's goal to make the holidays brighter for all of our patriots serving abroad. I will continue blogging daily as well so for you regulars please scroll down to the next post each day to see what is new.


Many of you may remember my Letters To The Troops campaign.

I had the opportunity to ensure that the letters I received were personally hand carried to the troops in Iraq.

In the end more than 30 bloggers participated and more than 320 letters were received.

I know we can do better.

A close personal friend of mine is on his way to Iraq. He is replacing another person who was injured in a mortar attack recently.

This friend and I go way back. We attended Basic Military Training (Boot Camp) together at Lackland AFB, TX. We then went on to attend the Security Police Academy together. We went further still and attended Air Base Defense School Level 1 together as well. We have been deployed to various locations at the same time and have occasionally run into one another at various Air Force Training venues. While time and distance have come between us we still manage to stay in contact.

Now he is being called up to once again head off to the conflict in Iraq. He is tentatively scheduled to depart on 24 December. That's right he will leave for the litter box the night before Christmas. His departure on Christmas eve will be only 4.5 weeks after the birth of his fourth child.

He is a frequent reader of my site so this effort will not be a surprise like it was during the first campaign. He saw what we accomplished before and has challenged me to do it again. He is eager to be able to deliver hundreds of letters of support to the troops on the ground!

He is willing to hand carry any letters that I can generate and print to Tallil, Iraq and he will make every effort to forward them on from there.

So here is what we need to do. Bloggers, I urge each and every one of you to write your own letter to the troops overseas. Make it a general open letter to any Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine. Keep in mind that the people reading this letters will be both male and female of all ages, ethnic origins and religions. Once your letter is posted, please trackback to this post so that I may find and print your letter. Please direct your readers to this effort as well. Non-bloggers, please leave your open letter of support in the comment section of this post. While it is possible for you to email me your letters, I'd like to see them in the comments so that troops overseas can access and read them online.

Our deadline for this endeavor will be the 17th of December. That will give me the time necessary to print all of the letters and have them ready to go. I will also be printing a sheet with the URL's of all bloggers who participate.

Please forward the link to this post to as many people as you can, both Bloggers and non-bloggers. [Here's the link: http://combatarms.mu.nu/archives/057594.php ]

Let's make this huge.

SlagleRock Out!



posted by HCL at 1:02 PM

 
SGT. RAPHAEL PERALTA
The rest of the story

A Hero's sacrifice
Submitted by: 1st Force Service Support Group
Story Identification #: 2004123102943
Story by Lance Cpl. T. J. Kaemmerer
USMC

A MUST READ!!!
Follow link to entire article

FALLUJAH, Iraq (Dec. 02, 2004) -- "You’re still here, don’t forget that. Tell your kids, your grandkids, what Sgt. Peralta did for you and the other Marines today."
posted by HCL at 9:02 AM

 
ANNIVERSARY GOOD WISHES TO
GROUCHY OLD CRIPPLE IN WINSTON SALEM


PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< GOC in Atlanta has linked a great site from an old Navy buddy. It's the first Navy site I've seen and the guy covered everything I'd ever need to know!!! Thanks GOC! And thanks Old Blue Jacket.

>^..^< Vote for your favorite blogs in the 2004 Weblog Awards.

>^..^< Mostly Cajun has linked a blog that I had not seen before, but definitely will revisit: Human Race Watch. Go over and take a look, and scroll down to Auschwitz who…? If it's any consolation, U.S. schools are not the only ones lacking!!!



INCOMING
from Jimmy, Ayden, NC

The Assumption
==============A man, exiting a grocery store, was very surprised when a rather good-looking and perky young lady greeted him cheerfully by saying "Good Evening." Her face was beaming. At least she was smiling until he gave her that "Who are you?" look. He couldn't remember having ever seen her before.

Then, she obviously realized that a mistake had been made and apologized. She explained, "Oh, I'm so sorry. When I first saw you I thought you were the father of one of my children." She walked on her way into the store.

The man was left staring dumbfounded after her. More than a bit puzzled, he thought to himself, "What is the world coming to, an attractive woman who doesn't even keep track of what the father of her children looks like."

However, he was also a bit flattered that he might resemble one of her former lovers. But, also hoped that nobody overheard her saying that she mistook him for being the father of one of her children.

A bit panicked, he then thought, "Could I possibly have forgotten a relationship? Could it be that I really fathered a child?"

Stunned, he walked to his car. He still did not realize, of course, that she was a fifth-grade teacher at a local elementary school.




The truth of the matter is that you always know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it. ~Gen. Norman Schwarzkoff

Conscience is God's presence in man. ~Emanuel Swedenborg

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. ~Abraham Lincoln

The reason congressmen try so hard to get re-elected is that they would hate to have to make a living under the laws they've passed. [Anon]
posted by HCL at 1:31 PM

 
MICHELLE MALKIN POSTED:

I am hereby launching the Lump of Coal campaign. Later today, I will box up a lump of charcoal, mark the package "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" and send it to the Denver Mayor in protest of his idiotic policy. Please join me in doing the same (and if you take a photo of your creatively designed package, I will link/post).

Send to:

Mayor John W. Hickenlooper
Denver City and County Building
1437 Bannock Street, Suite 350
Denver, CO 80202


A bonnet tipping for the link to Mike King, who further elaborated:

It seems that Christianity -- which is the religion of the majority of Americans -- is under attack as never before, mostly by PC-types who want to plow it under a wave of politically correct sayings and propaganda. We have a rogue court who has ruled that the phrase "Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance is wrong, an elementary school principal who prohibits a teacher from using the Declaration of Independance in class because it mentions God (and of course, since the teacher is a Christian, the principal is "afraid" he might use the opportunity to preach in class, right?), and now we've got people insisting that Christmas Carols are wrong because they might "offend" people.

Well, quite frankly, in that instance, I don't mind offending people. Christmas is the celebration of the birth of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and I continue to sing and celebrate that fact from the rooftops. You are welcome to agree or not agree with me, but don't tell me that I can't celebrate that fact!

Oh. And the Faith Bible Chapel in Denver? Since they aren't being allowed to participate in Denver's Christmas Parade, they will walk the route an hour prior to the parade, singing Christmas Carols and passing out hot chocolate. God bless them!



INCOMING
from John, New Jersey

PERSPECTIVE

One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people live.

They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family. On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"

"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.

The son answered:
"I saw that we have one dog and they had four.

"We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.

"We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.

"Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.

"We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.

"We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.

"We buy our food, but they grow theirs.

"We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."

The boy's father was speechless.

Then his son added, "Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are."

Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.

Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your friends!

"Life is too short and friends are too few."



posted by HCL at 8:21 PM

 
QUOTES TO REVIEW


"I know in my heart that man is good. That what is right will always eventually triumph. And there's purpose and worth to each and every life." - Ronald Reagan

"If you are called to be a street sweeper, sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.' - Martin Luther King

"People don't start wars, governments do." - Ronald Reagan

"Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men." - Martin Luther King

"If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under." - Ronald Reagan

"The time is always right to do what is right." - Martin Luther King

"I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandment's would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U.S. Congress." - Ronald Reagan

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." - Martin Luther King

"No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women." - Ronald Reagan

"I submit to you that if a man hasn't discovered something he will die for, he isn't fit to live." - Martin Luther King

"Of the four wars in my lifetime none came about because the U.S. was too strong." - Ronald Reagan



PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< Great grandma in Iraq

>^..^< Chuck updates the Kenneth Walker case

>^..^< FALLUJAH, Iraq — Sgt. Rafael Peralta built a reputation as a man who always put his Marines' interests ahead of his own. Link from Random Fate.

>^..^< Also from Random Fate, Jack gives his usual sensible interpretation to a situation that makes no sense at all. Follow the ABC link for more details.

>^..^< The election behind him, Yellow Dog is now throwing his energy behind children's charities. Go over and read about Victory Junction and you could "get to meet the dog who could have been President!"

>^..^< Following a link from Baldilocks, I found Tortfeasor at The Agony and the Ecstasy and have fallen in love with him!! What could quicker win my heart than THIS POST? And "tortfeasor" is a misnomer. He's obviously a new age Southern Gentleman!

posted by HCL at 6:34 PM

 
Thanksgiving festivities used time normally devoted to blog-surfing, so it's possible the following has been posted elsewhere, or in several blogs. No matter. Read. --Indigo


INCOMING
Subject: A Father's Farewell
I got this from a friend and wanted to share it with you. During this joyous time of year we need to remember those who gave their all for us.
Jimmy
Ayden, NC


A FATHER'S FAREWELL

My son, the soldier, comes home for good.
At last report he had left Iraq and was waiting a flight in Kuwait. With luck he will be in Germany today and then on to Texas. By the way, he is called "remains" but I know better. He is my son.

I want to tell you about him. Not because he is so great a guy - although I think so, but because he represents the thousands of sons and daughters America is sending to far away places to secure our peace and our liberties at home.

Captain Sean Patrick Sims, commanding officer of A Company, 2-2 BN, 1st Infantry Division, was killed in action Nov. 13 in Fallujah, Iraq while clearing insurgent occupied buildings. A tough assignment, clearing an urban area. Dirty, dangerous work. Sean lost his executive officer the day before and I read of the deaths of two Marine Captains who were similarly killed in Fallujah.

It is sad when a father must write his own son's obituary. I don't know what to say. My son, like others falling in that conflict, was a hero who believed in his mission, his unit, and his men. He also believed leaders should be in the front, leading, not following. And that is how he died. He was well liked and respected by his superiors and the men in his company, who sensed his concern for their well being. He was also concerned about the well being of the Iraqi people and did his utmost to guard them from harm.

Sean was a devout catholic, who lived the tenets of his faith on a daily basis. There is no doubt in our minds that Sean is now in heaven and in the hands of our Lord. We grieve for his loss, which is our loss, but not for his soul. If anything, we ask his intercession on our behalf as he is now much better placed for that effort.

I don't know what to say or how to describe the sacrifice of your blood for this country. Having served in Vietnam, twice, having a father who spent 36 years as a soldier through two wars, and a brother who served in Vietnam twice and is now 100% disabled from his injuries there, I am encouraged by the awareness of our countrymen for the sacrifices of our children. I am thankful for the realization by our citizenry that freedom is not free.

My son was not a rampant political supporter for any party, although he was probably more Republican by instinct. But he did have an abiding trust and belief in the United States of America. He felt we are a moral nation, steadfast in our principles; this nation does not take its commitment of its sons and daughters to war lightly. But unlike many nations in the world, we do not shirk our duties to commit our blood to just and necessary causes. Because that is what keeps us free.

I think he understood something which seems to have been lost in the debates over weapons of mass destruction and poor intelligence estimates in this particular war. That is that sovereign nations must be held accountable for their actions. We cannot tolerate nations that hide behind borders and provide support to enemies who are intent on our destruction. We can debate on how this war developed and was executed. It can not be debated that nations now look carefully at their responsibility and accountability before providing such support. America has made its statement. If you support terrorism, we will find you and destroy you, whatever the cost.

My son understood this and believed what he was doing was right. But he also believed that you can't go in and destroy a country and walk away. He was anxious for the insurgents to be quickly defeated so we could start the nation building that Iraq so sorely needs. He chafed at the delays and the debates in implementing aid. He was not a romantic. He understood well the backwardness of the country, the strangle hold of its religion and more challengingly, the social and political pressure of the tribal system. They all looked insurmountable when you add them up. But he had been raised in a tradition of grit and putting one foot forward at a time, so he was not deterred by the challenge. He was faced with a difficult, dirty and seemingly impossible task, but his response was not how do I get out of it but how do I get it done.

I think his sacrifice to his nation can best be summed up in a message I received from a friend expressing condolences for his loss: "His sacrifice was made to keep my family, my sons and my grandchildren as well as all Americans safe and free and for that we will eternally be grateful." That's nice. My son would agree. That's what he thought he was doing.

In retrospect, the true hero here is his wife, who is left a young widow with a young son to raise. She is a woman of grace, and grit. She will do well by her son and her warrior husband.

Tom Sims (COL, US Army Retired)


posted by HCL at 1:55 PM

 
PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< Chuck's back - and regaling his fans with the story of his latest deer hunt. Didn't get his trophy yet, but - Oh Well. He enjoys hunting for it!

>^..^< There, but for the Grace of God, go our pets! Please read this and be "thankful" this holiday that our animal "children" live in America!!

>^..^< Here's what some of our heroes have to say about America Supports You.

>^..^< From Soldiers'Angels a "Message From Our Founder", plus a preview of the Christmas Project. Also note: We need state managers in the following states: AL, AK, AZ, CT, DE, DC, GA, ID, IA, KS, KY, LA, ME, MS, MT, NE, NV, NH, NM, NY, NC, ND, OK, OR, RI, SD, WA, WV, and WY.
[Contact Jean Keltner at soldiersangels-md-keltner@adelphia.com]

>^..^< On this Thanksgiving Day remember to give thanks for THEM. Via Jennifer Martinez



It's important the people should know what you stand for. It's equally important that they know what you won't stand for. ~~Mary H. Waldrip

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty. ~~ John F. Kennedy

"He who knows not and knows not that he knows not is a fool - avoid him! He who knows and knows not that he knows is asleep - waken him! He who knows not and knows that he knows not wants a beating - beat him! But he who knows and knows that he knows is a wise man - know him." -- Proverb
posted by HCL at 1:10 AM

 
PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< A new "remember our troops" site: America Supports You. Check it out and read testimonies from average Americans who are actively helping on the homefront. You may get some new ideas of how you can be pro-active. I did.

>^..^< Mostly Cajun has posted a Letter from Iraq from a Marine writing to his father about his participation in the Fallujah battle. Please don't miss this!

>^..^< According the ObDrop GOC's research, not much is likely to be SEARED in our memories! Follow his LYNX and learn why.

>^..^< I missed this earlier, but Leslie's Omnibus has a suggestion for protection from the flu, if you can't find flu vaccine.

>^..^< How DO black people think? Baldilocks tells how she and James Taranto think. Very good springboard here.

>^..^< Sailor in the Desert offers an essay by Antonio Williams for another jump off the springboard.





INCOMING
from Jimmy, Ayden, NC

This is not intended to upset fans of tennis, basketball, football or baseball. It is, rather, an attempt to put everything in its proper perspective.

Ever wonder why golf is growing in popularity and why people who don't even play go to tournaments or watch it on TV? The following truisms may shed some light:

> Golf is an honorable game, with the overwhelming majority of players being honorable people who don't need referees.

> Golfers don't have some of their players in jail every week.

> Golfers don't kick dirt on, or throw bottles at, other people.

> Professional golfers are paid in direct proportion to how well they play.

> Golfers don't get per diem and two seats on a charter flight when they travel between tournaments.

> Golfers don't hold out for more money, or demand new contracts, because of another player's deal.

> Professional golfers don't demand that the taxpayers pay for the courses on which they play.

> When golfers make a mistake, nobody is there to cover for them or back them.

> The PGA raises more money for charity in 1 year than the NFL does in 2.

> You can watch the best golfers in the world up close, at any tournament, including the majors, all day every day for $25 or $30. The cost for even a nosebleed seat at the Super Bowl costs around $300 or more unless you buy it from scalpers in which case it's $1,000+.

> You can bring a picnic lunch to the tournament golf course, watch the best in the world and not spend a small fortune on food and drink. Try that at one of the taxpayer funded baseball or football stadiums. If you bring a soft drink into a ballpark, they'll give you two options -- get rid of it or leave.

> In golf you cannot fail 70% of the time and make $9 million a season, like the best baseball hitters ! (.300 batting average) do.

> Golf doesn't change its rules to attract fans.

> Golfers have to adapt to an entirely new playing area each week.

> Golfers keep their clothes on while they are being interviewed.

> Golf doesn't have free agency.

> In their prime, Palmer, Norman, and other stars, would shake your hand and say they were happy to meet you. In his prime Jose Canseco wore T-shirts that read "Leave Me Alone."

> You can hear birds chirping on the golf course during a tournament.

> At a golf tournament, (unlike at taxpayer-funded sports stadiums and arenas) you won't hear a steady stream of four letter words and nasty name calling while you're hoping that no one spills beer on you.

> Tiger hits a golf ball over twice as far as Barry Bonds hits a baseball.

> Golf courses don't ruin the neighborhood.

> And Finally: Here's a little slice of golf history that you might enjoy.
Why do golf courses have 18 holes? - not 20, or 10, or an even dozen? During a discussion among the club's membership board at St. Andrews in 1858, a senior member pointed out that it takes exactly 18 shots to polish off a fifth of Scotch. By limiting himself to only one shot of Scotch per hole, the Scot figured a round of golf was finished when the Scotch ran out.



DON'T YOU JUST LOVE IT? DEPARTMENT

I was in the express lane at the store quietly fuming. Completely ignoring the sign, the woman ahead of me had slipped into the check-outline pushing a cart piled high with groceries. Imagine my delight when the cashier beckoned the woman to come forward looked into the cart and asked sweetly, "So which six items would you like to buy?" Wouldn't it be great if that happened more often?!!!

[thanks to Don, the Mountain Man in Virginia]



MORE SAYINGS BY MAXINE

"If you woke up breathing, congratulations! You have another chance."

"I may be old, but people who look like me always win the lottery."

"How do you prevent sagging? Just eat till the wrinkles fill out!"

"No husband has ever been shot while doing the dishes."

"I don't make snowmen. If I'd wanted to hang around with a cold man with slush for brains, I'd still be married."

"A friend will always tell you exactly what she thinks! So I guess that makes me friends with everybody."

"Women who think about remarrying should just throw some men's underwear on the floor and shove all the blankets on the other side of the bed instead."



posted by HCL at 1:21 PM

 
THE DAFFODIL PRINCIPLE

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over."

I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. "I will come next Tuesday", I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call. Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove there.

When I finally walked into Carolyn's house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren, I said, "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!"

My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the time, Mother."
"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.
"I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car." "How far will we have to drive?" 'Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

After several minutes, I had to ask, "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the garage!" "We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils."
"Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around."
"It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car and each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path.

Then, we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

"But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn.
"It's just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958."

There it was, The Daffodil Principle. For me, that moment was a life changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun one bulb at a time to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable (indescribable) magnificence, beauty, and inspiration.

The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time - often just one baby step at a time - and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world. "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?"

. . . . . Author Unknown

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are. After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage.

We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, when we are able to go on a nice vacation, or when we retire.

The truth is there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. Happiness is the way.

So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with ... and remember that time waits for no one. So, stop waiting... Until your car or home is paid off. Until you get a new car or home. Until your kids leave the house. Until you go back to school. Until you finish school. Until you lose 10 lbs.. Until you gain 10 lbs..Until you get married. Until you get a divorce. Until you have kids. Until you retire. Until summer. Until spring. Until winter. Until fall. Until you die.

There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So work like you don't need money, Love like you've never been hurt, And dance like no one's watching.

If you want to brighten someone's day, pass this on to someone special. I just did.

[Thanks and love to Indigo's daughter in Greenville, NC, for this lovely reminder of her Daffodil Garden]


posted by HCL at 2:54 PM

 
YOU ARE THERE
training with the 26th MEU Echo Company

CAMP LEJEUNE, N.C. - (Nov. 18, 2004) Three landing crafts crashed through the North Carolina breakers coming ashore amidst a dense cloud of sand and sea spray. The deafening sound from the massive propellers and gas turbine engines drowned out all other sounds on Onslow beach.

Inside one craft, an anxious 24-year-old Marine wireman from Oklahoma City wished he could see out the window. Training or not, this was an important moment. Surrounded by nearly 90 fellow Marines from Echo Company, Battalion Landing Team, 2nd Batt. 8th Marines, it was Lance Cpl. John W. Inman's first amphibious landing. Read more

"The best part of being a Marine is knowing I'll have the life-long acknowledgement that I served with the toughest branch of the military," Lance Cpl. John W. Inman said. "The worst part is about the same."


posted by HCL at 1:17 PM

 
PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with Lynx

>^..^< Thomas Sowell on the Fallujah Marine

>^..^< Agree with Thomas Sowell? Sign here.

>^..^< Mostly Cajun has a thing or two to say as well.

>^..^< You know you've been really derelict in your blogging duties when posting 4 days out of 5 gets you an "attaboy" from your BlogSon. So in order to keep the average up, here's a pastie for perusal. And please don't disregard out of hand because it's a pastie. It's a first rate read, found via Jen Martinez.



The Military's Right To "No!"
Opinion by Don Bendell

I am proud to say that I am a Vietnam veteran and finally have some degree of closure. It occurred on November 2nd, 2004. Like my fellow warriors, earlier this year, I was unexpectedly yanked from that deep dry well of dank dark collective shame, and thrust into the bright sunlight of political overview. Called to fight the great fight once again, we fought and indeed won, and we are now healed and strong. And so, we issue a warning to our old antagonists: Biased media outlets and liberal political strategists looking ahead already, please understand this: We Viet Nam veterans insured that President George W. Bush got re-elected, and now we will also insure that you will stop politicizing the War on Terrorism. You will not traumatize, bastardize, trivialize, or disparage a new generation of honored, fighting men and women in harm’s way like you did to so many of us, so long ago, and for so many years following. You may attack them with your obvious flanking and rear assault maneuvers, but you will not win. You have to go through all of us first. Get used to that idea.

Kevin Sites, freelance embedded photojournalist (ahem) for NBC NEWS, is an anti-war activist with many of his war photos displayed on a German-based anti-war site. Way to go Peacock Network News! Been feeding at the same trough as CBS News, huh?

As a paramilitary guerilla tactic, members of al Q’ueda and other terrorists will play dead, so they can get one last explosion or shot and take out more American GI’s before they go to their version of Paradise and their promised 72 virgin goats, or whatever it is those crazed zealots die for.

But in your more perfect world, please picture this: Terrorist snipers hide in a temple and fire at unsuspecting US soldiers and even newsmen. They do not care who they shoot as long as they are an infidel. Americans return fire and kill or wound most, and then American Marines enter the building to check and clear it. Once inside, an alert young Marine notices that one of the terrorists is still alive, hiding his breathing, and obviously playing dead. Not wanting to be politically-incorrect, un-newsworthy, or insult the sensibilities of those at home who are vehemently against the war, he carefully and slowly turns the wounded terrorist over to administer first aid and comfort. The terrorist, however, has pulled the pin on a high explosive hand grenade hidden under his body. The last thing the young Marine sees is the terrorist’s eyes open wide as he smiles in perverted enthusiasm, yelling, “Allah Akbar!”

The Marine's two closest buddies die in the blast, as well as a third Marine, who being a US Marine, dives in front of the imbedded photojournalist and absorbs the shrapnel, saving the videographer’s life.

I don’t think so. I say, give the young Marine a medal and then shut up about it. I say start showing pictures of Marines and soldiers out-shooting, out-maneuvering, and out-fighting the bad guys, and then getting hugs and looks of true admiration from grateful Iraqi women and children. The way it really happens. I say show the young tough American GI tending to the flowers he planted outside his barracks, or the young bloody Marine later passing out clothes to kids he had his church ship to him, or the green berets, weary of fighting and killing, taking some time to use their expertise to help an Iraqi community rebuild a damaged mosque.

Instead of holding a news Woodstock over Abu Ghraib atrocities or My Lai atrocities, point out that both were actually stopped and reported by other American soldiers. Thanks to you, most Americans do not know that.

Al Jazeerah is an important weapon of our enemies attacking the minds of our citizens with bullets of doubt, mortars of mockery, and the explosive images of very selective horrors of war. Like mindless robotic slaves of conformity, some of you of the America news media, as well as anti-Republican self-serving political tacticians, are their witless ammo bearers. Instead of patting each other on the back for your play to the self-annointed intelligentsia, you really should start looking at your fellow countrymen. They are deserting you in droves, as you have deserted our troops for your liberal cause. You have yet, to “get it” why FOX NEWS leaves you all in the rear with the gear. It is really simple, you see. They are Americans first and foremost, and then professionally, they are actual news people, reporting; not clouding, editorializing, or rewriting our nation’s and world’s history while it is being made.

If you don’t get it. We will help you understand. You see, contrary to the images you planted, we Vietnam veterans never lost one major battle. We won them all, and we will not lose now, nor will we ever retreat. We know that 9-1-1 means “Emergency” not “Complacency,” and we are all more than willing to answer that call.

Don Bendell served as an officer in four Special Forces Groups, including a tour on a green beret A-team (Dak Pek) in Vietnam in 1968-1969, and was in the Top Secret Phoenix Program, is a top-selling author of 21 books, with over 1,500,000 copies of his books in print worldwide, a 1995 inductee into the International Karate Hall of Fame, and owns karate schools in southern Colorado. His pro-Bush/anti-Kerry editorials were widely-published in newspapers and magazines, and circulated by millions all over the world on the internet. He has been interviewed on FOX NEWS LIVE and on many radio shows and speaks all over the country.

Permission is hereby granted to reprint, copy, or pass this on wherever and to whomever you choose. This is posted on my website with other political editorials.

Blessings,
Don Bendell


posted by HCL at 12:15 AM

 



Hurt troops need clothes, toiletries

By Justin Willett
Staff writer

LANDSTUHL, Germany - When wounded troops arrive at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center they often are wearing the same clothes they were wearing when they were injured; usually a dirty desert camouflage uniform, sometimes just a pair of boxer shorts.

The troops receive a $250 voucher from the Department of Defense. But they are often unable to make it to the nearest Army and Air Force Exchange Services store at Ramstein Air Base for clothes or toiletries.

That's where Landstuhl's Pastoral Services Department comes in. Pastoral services runs the Chaplain's Closet, a tiny building packed full of donated clothes, toiletries,! books, movies and other personal items. Lt. Col. Robert Hicks is a chaplain with the Alabama Air Guard. He works with Army, Marine, Navy and Air Force chaplains on getting the troops what they need.

This weekend, volunteers delivered wheelchairs full of items to hundreds of troops who arrived from Fallujah in the past week.

Senior Airman Karly Vogel, who is in the Minnesota Air Guard and is a chaplain's assistant at Landstuhl said the biggest need right now is large and extra-large sweatpants and shirts for Germany's cold weather. "We rely on donations." she said. "There's so many troops that come through here, we have to work quick to get them what they need."

Col. Eric Holmstrom is an Army reservist who was activated for one year and made chief of pastoral services at Landstuhl. He said the hospital is a good place to minister, but there are always needs. "We always have patients," he said. "And we always have a need." Holmstrom said men's shoes sizes nine to 12 are in high demand as is cash.

Pastoral services only accepts new items. Ongoing needs at the Chaplain's Closet include: men's shoes sizes nine to 12, women's shoes size six to nine, men's and women's winter coats sizes medium through extra-large, and backpacks, gym bags and small suitcases.

Send checks to:
USAREUR Chaplains Fund
Commander, Landstuhl Regional Medical Center
Attention: MCEUL-CH/Chaplains Office
CMR 402 APO AE09180

[Thanks to Doc Farmer for the heads-up. docfarmer9999@yahoo.co.uk. ]



PUSSYFOOTIN'™

>^..^< Please visit the Wounded Warrior site and do what you can. It'll really make you feel good.

>^..^< Been wanting to know where to make your voice heard on the Fallujah Marine? Sign the petition here. Link from Iraq War Today. Thanks, Patti.

>^..^< And NC Bloggers, remember these folks! http://www.fayettevillenc.com/story.php?Template=local&Story=6685771



posted by HCL at 9:36 AM

 
UPDATE:

BLOGS ABOUT THE FALLUJAH MARINE
(yes, that one!)


From Rivrdog: Who was right, NBC or the Marine?

From Baldilocks: Note to MSM: the marine did not shoot a prisoner!

From Powerline: I want to pass on this email from a Marine in the 11th MEU:

From SlagleRock: Much more to follow.

From Mamamontezz: "someone in authority needs to make a public statement of support for the young Marine"

From Jennifer Martinez: "received from an old Combat Marine."

[Indigo Note: These blogs were the first I came upon. Each of these will direct your reading to other blogs.]
posted by HCL at 6:38 PM

 
THE SHEEPDOGS

Most humans truly are like sheep,
Wanting nothing more than peace to keep.
To graze, grow fat and raise their young,
Sweet taste of clover on the tongue.
Their lives serene upon Life’s farm,
They sense no threat nor fear no harm.
On verdant meadows, they forage free
With naught to fear, with naught to flee.
They pay their sheepdogs little heed
For there is no threat; there is no need.

To the flock, sheepdogs are mysteries,
Roaming watchful round the peripheries.
These fang-toothed creatures bark, they roar
With the fetid reek of the carnivore,
Too like the wolf of legends told,
To be amongst our docile fold.
Who needs sheepdogs? What good are they?
They have no use, not in this day.
Lock them away, out of our sight;
We have no need of their fierce might.

But sudden in their midst a beast
Has come to kill, has come to feast.
The wolves attack; they give no warning
Upon that calm September morning.
They slash and kill with frenzied glee
Their passive helpless enemy
Who had no clue the wolves were there
Far roaming from their Eastern lair.
Then from the carnage, from the rout,
Comes the cry, “Turn the sheepdogs out!”

Thus is our nature but too our plight
To keep our dogs on leashes tight
And live a life of illusive bliss,
Hearing not the beast, his growl, his hiss.
Until he has us by the throat,
We pay no heed; we take no note.
Not until he strikes us at our core
Will we unleash the Dogs of War
Only having felt the wolf pack’s wrath
Do we loose the sheepdogs on its path.
And the wolves will learn what we’ve shown before;
We love our sheep, we Dogs of War.

Russ Vaughn
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Vietnam 65-66



INCOMING

Four Candles...Peace, Faith, Love and Hope...
[Thanks to Kristi, Greenville, NC]



Your work is to discover your work and then, with all your heart, to give yourself to it. ~~Buddha

We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. ~~Martin Luther King, Jr.



PUSSYFOOTIN'™
with LYNX

>^..^< To the Marine who shot first and investigated later: Illegitimi non carborundum. UPDATE Been wanting to know where to make your voice heard? Here's the petition. Sign here. Link from Iraq War Today. Thanks, Patti.

>^..^< And also Saepius Exertus, Semper Fidelis, Frater Infinitas. Looked in HERE lately?

>^..^< Under Construction. Opening Soon.

>^..^< Both GOCs are in rare form today. Check #1 here and #2 here.



SENIOR MOMENT

Six Little Old Ladies

I passed by the nursing home and there were six old ladies lying naked in the front grass. I thought this was a little peculiar, but continued on my way because it's a long walk and I wanted to get it over with before it got truly hot again today.

On my way back, the ladies were still lying in the yard. To quench my curiosity, I went inside and asked to speak to the director of the facility. When I asked him if he knew there were six naked old ladies lying on his front lawn, he replied, "Yes, I know. They're retired prostitutes and they're having a yard sale."




posted by HCL at 8:13 PM

 
PUSSYFOOTIN™
with Lynx

>^..^< Thanks for the "Lynx", BlogSon. Cute.

>^..^< See it here, because it will not be seen on MSM.

Wanted to get those in before the next SM™. More whenever.
posted by HCL at 1:29 AM

 
Oooops!

BIRTHDAY IN AFGHANISTAN

FORWARD OPERATING BASE SALERNO, Afghanistan - Marines carry the ceremonial birthday cake at the Marine Corps' 229th birthday ceremony Nov. 10 at Forward Operating Base Salerno. Photo by: Army Staff Sgt. Bradley Rhen


posted by HCL at 11:37 AM

 
Thanks again, Vets. I'm taking an extended Veterans appreciation weekend. See you next week.
posted by HCL at 1:15 PM

 
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARINES!

Thank you for 229 inspiring years of service to America and the world!
posted by HCL at 8:04 AM

 
VETERAN'S DAY TRIBUTE FROM THE ARCHIVES


THE AMERICAN SOLDIER

The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances, is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country.

He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.

He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.

He listens to country, rock and roll, or hip-hop, or rap, or jazz, or swing, and 155mm Howitzers.

He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.

He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.

He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity.

He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.

He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.

He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food.

He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he should have in his short lifetime.

He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them.

He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom.

Beardless or not, he is not a boy.

He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.

He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.

Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

posted by B. at 8:43 AM - Friday, March 28, 2003

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PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN

Any Fourth of July celebration/festivity I’ve ever attended in my life (never mind how many that is!!) pale by comparison to the events held each 4th of July at the Camp LeJeune Marine Base. What makes that one so special, you ask? The United States Marine Corps, of course!!!

The one yesterday was somewhat more inconvenient to civilian visitors than previous years, but that was expected. The long lines of vehicles waiting for registration and license checks was something new; however, Marines at the gates were extremely polite and efficient and everything went smoothly. The fact that they were armed to the teeth may have facilitated admission too! That was also a first.

I have no idea how large the parade ground is. “Several football fields” comes to mind. Whatever the size, it was filled with spectators – estimated as “tens of thousands”. (Wild guess – maybe 50 – 60)

The Piece de Resistance, as always, was the Grand Finale. As the sun set, the Marine Corps Band began a fantastic concert. No toes could remain still! This segment was highlighted by The Marine Corps Hymn, with a moving recitation and re-enactment of the raising of the flag on Mount Suribachi. Every Marine, active and veteran, on the parade ground stood at attention. Military marches and classical selections concluded (perfectly timed with darkness) with the 1812 Overture. The cannons punctuating the Overture were real cannons, actually fired for the performance. These were lined up approximately half a football field away from spectators, so the fire from the ends of the cannons was clearly visible and the noise was deafening.

As the last notes of the 1812 Overture faded with the reverberations of cannons, again synchronized to the second, the fireworks exhibition began. The length and intensity of this display made “awesome” an inadequate adjective.

God Bless America!

posted by B. at 11:42 PM - Friday, July 05, 2002

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MILITARY APPRECIATION

In perusing the blogs to keep my finger on the pulse of Blogger World, I learned from Misha, the "Nice Doggie" man, that November is National Military Appreciation Month. Please visit this site and say "thank you" to our military, if you're appreciative.

Some of the commenters expressed uncertainties about how to handle a direct contact with military personnel. What would be appropriate? Rushing into the debate to get my two cents in, I posted the following:

Posted by Indigo at November 7, 2002 10:44 AM --
To hug or not to hug? Depends on who YOU are. A handshake may be more appropriate. I'm a grandmother and Saturday night before Mother's Day, I was treated to a lovely dinner at Outback. At the large round table next to ours were about 10 USMC Special Ops. Mean and lean and BEAUTIFUL. They had obviously just returned from the Afghan war zone and were enjoying a celebratory night out. After much toasting and congratulating each other, they settled in to enjoy a raucous and delicious meal. Our party ended before theirs did, and when I arose from the table, I took one step toward the Marines' table and announced: "If anyone will not be getting a Mother's Day hug tomorrow, here's your chance." As a unit, they jumped from their chairs and queued up!! Some of the biggest grins and tightest hugs I have ever received!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


THE SOLDIER

Close your eyes and picture in your mind the soldier at Valley Forge, as he holds his musket in his bloody hands.

He stands barefoot in the snow, starved from lack of food, wounded from months of battle, and emotionally scarred from the eternity away from his family surrounded by nothing but death and carnage of war.

He stands tough, with fire in his eyes and victory on his breath. He looks at us now in anger and disgust and tells us this...

I gave you a birthright of freedom born in the Constitution and now your children graduate too illiterate to read it. I fought in the snow barefoot to give you the freedom to vote and you stay at home because it rains. I left my family destitute to give you the freedom of speech and you remain silent on critical issues, because it might be bad for business. I orphaned my children to give you a government to serve you and it has stolen democracy from the people.

It's the soldier, not the reporter who gives you the freedom of the press. It's the soldier, not the poet who gives you the freedom of speech. It's the soldier, not the campus organizer who allows you to demonstrate. It's the soldier who salutes the flag, serves the flag, whose coffin is draped with the flag, that allows the protester to burn the flag!!!

"God, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen."

When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our U.S. ground troops in Afghanistan, and the ones facing deployment to Iraq at this very moment - and all over this world. Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Prayer is the very best one.....

posted by B. at 12:29 PM - Sunday, December 22, 2002

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FROM THE IN-BOX

This is the most inspiring "Christmas card" I have received this year -- perhaps ANY year. Please take a few minutes to link here and, hopefully, to the other links you will find. Don't miss the Home link. We all know the "reason for the season" but we may need a reminder of the reason we are free to celebrate it.

posted by B. at 1:19 PM - Friday, December 13, 2002

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I GOT YOUR BACK

I am a small and precious child;
My dad's been sent to fight...
The only place I'll see his face
is in my dreams at night.
He will be gone too many days
for my young mind to keep track.
I may be sad, but I am proud.
My daddy's got your back.

I am a caring mother.
My son has gone to war...
My mind is filled with worries
that I have never known before.
Everyday I try to keep
my thoughts from turning black.
I may be scared, but I am proud.
My son has got your back.

I am a strong and loving wife,
with a husband soon to go.
There are times I'm terrified
in a way most never know.
I bite my lip, and force a smile
as I watch my husband pack...
My heart may break, but I am proud.
My husband's got your back...

I am a Military Man standing Proudly, standing Tall.
I fight for freedom, yours and mine,
by answering this call.
I do my job while knowing the thanks it
sometimes lacks.
Say a prayer that I'll come home. It's me
who's got your back.

posted by B. at 10:39 AM - Tuesday, March 25, 2003

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


WELCOME HOME!

A glorious day on the North Carolina Coast! Our Marines are landing!! They are unloading on Radio Island as I type. Radio Island is about 40 miles from Camp LeJeune and the Marines will be driven home on chartered busses. The highway bringing them home is named "Freedom Way" - which says it all. It says Highway 24 belongs to our heroes. It's their return route back to home and family every time they come back. The entire 40 miles is festooned with flags, yellow ribbons, patriotic signs affixed to telephone polls (These are permanent signs, purchased and maintained by local towns, that go up and down in conjunction with deployments.), and bed sheets. Yes. Bed sheets. A long time ago, some ingenious wife hit on the idea of painting a special "love and welcome home to (fill in rank and name)" on a sheet and attaching it to the chain link fence that runs along Highway 24 for many miles. It seems to be a tradition now. The sheet graffiti covers every possible welcome message. The most touching are from the children. "Welcome Home, Daddy. We love you." The closer the busses get to Camp LeJeune, the closer together the sheets hang on the fence. The linen sections of local department stores flourish, I'm sure, because literally hundreds of hand-painted sheets are up by homecoming day. Even the sun came out in all its brilliance today, after many days of rain, to welcome our wonderful guys and gals back to the Crystal Coast of North Carolina.

The pride and love for the United States Marine Corps and Navy is unabashedly displayed here by family and civilian residents. And we're all so happy they're back. Thanks to all our military personnel for a job well done.

posted by B. at 12:03 PM - Sunday, June 22, 2003

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Saturday, July 05, 2003

The beautiful, blue Carolina sky dawned July 4th with just enough fluffy clouds in the sky to appear to be faces smiling down on the spectacular coast of North Carolina -- home of Camp Lejeune and the United States Marines and Sailors. What a perfect and well-deserved welcome home to military personnel who have been returning for the last several days.

The annual affair is always family-oriented, but this year it was more so. It was Family Reunion day. Children kept touching their daddies, as if to hold on to them and not let them get away again. Last year the crowd was impressive. I had never seen so many people together at one place, other than at a football game. This year it was astounding and outstanding in the palpable love among the people - military and civilian. A real emotion-charged day for all.

A FDNY engine and more than 100 New York firemen were present. The Assistant Fire Chief ceremoniously presented an I-beam from the wreckage of the World Trade Center to Camp Lejeune for a permanent memorial. He said that Camp Lejeune and NYC would be the only places where WTC wreckage would become part of a memorial for New York City Firemen and Camp Lejeune Marines. He shared a moving personal vignette telling that a large percentage of NY City Firemen were previous Marines. And of those, a large number had been stationed at Camp Lejeune, including himself in 1963.

A preview was published July 3 on The Globe site which was quite accurate, other than emphasizing the tremendous size of the assemblage.

"Pulled from the wreckage of the World Trade Center, an I-beam recently began its journey through six states to the base from Manhattan. New York City Fire Department chaplain blessed the beam and more than 100 New York firefighters are accompanying it. The department is presenting the 9-11 “icon” to the Marine Corps Base and II Marine Expeditionary Force commanding generals during scheduled July 4th celebrations Friday at W.P.T. Hill Field."

Watching the five Marines re-enacting the raising of the flag on Iwo Jima, I thought how proud they must be. To be chosen as stand-ins for those heroic and famous Marines on Mount Surabachi will be something to tell for the rest of their lives. Plenty of bragging rights there. The Marine Band Concert was highlighted again this year by the 1812 Overture, accompanied by live cannon fire, culminating with the fireworks exhibition.

God Bless America!

posted by B. at 10:51 PM - July 5, 2003

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Dear Civilians,

We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation have many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military. For those of you who can't join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:

(1) The next time you see an adult talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem---kick their ass.

(2) When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest---kick their ass.

(3) Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten! them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.

(4) (GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs), telling others that you used to be "Special Forces," and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.

(5) Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, "Do you fly a jet?" Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).

(6) If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard 'non-military', inform them of their mistake---and kick their ass.

(7) Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your damn feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart. Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her---of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.

(8) Don't try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran.. We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn't know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet. All we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out. If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!

(9) 'Your mama wears combat boots' never made sense to me---stop saying it! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore, could kick your ass!

(10) Bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying 'Let's go kill those Commies!' And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me---if you see anyone calling those damn psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass.

(11) 'Flyboy' (Air Force), 'Jarhead' (Marines), 'Grunt' (Army), 'Squid' (Navy), 'Puddle Jumpers' (Coast Guard), etc., are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. That could get your ass kicked.

(12) Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of sailors and troops far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get its ass kicked."

"It is the soldier, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the press.

"It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.

"It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate.

"It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag."


(Please pass this on so I won't have to kick your ass!) :-)

"If you can read this, thank a teacher"
"If you are reading it in English, thank a veteran."

[Thanks to James & Lisa Shelbourne of Jonesville, VA - November 10, 2004]

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posted by HCL at 11:59 PM