Once Again: 'Til You're Back Here In Our Arms

[Kat]

To all those fathers out there who serve our nation from the hearts of those that miss you:

Happy Father's Day!

Original song and lyrics by Kat Henry. Little Girl: Stormy.

Please note, this is free to download or share with your loved ones wherever they are, what ever they do.

Lyrics below in flash traffic

Fair winds and a following sea, Sailor and Scouts.

AOC Eberhart passed away last Saturday. The note I got from the Goat Locker was:

"...a life well lived, but cut too short."

I don't know if Sailors go to Fiddler's Green, or somewhere else, but I'm sure they'll pull him up a stool at the bar.

There's a new tent at Fiddler's Green, as well. Last night's storms gave Prodigal Son and his SO a near-miss as a tornado went through Manhattan, Kansas, and then that line of storms smashed Chapman, Kansas, and went marching on through Nebraska and into Iowa, where it struck a Boy Scout camp, killing Josh Fennen, 13, Sam Thomsen, 13, and Ben Petrzilka, 14, and Aaron Eilerts, 13.

I was a Boy Scout, and a camp counselor, and we always played Taps at "Lights Out" in camp.

So, I'm assuming that Josh, Sam, Ben, and Aaron have all pitched a tent together in the woods around Fiddler's Green, and that Chief Eberhart was there to greet them.

So, now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Someone else you should know. Jack Lucas.

While yet another posthumous award of the Medal of Honor occured this week, a living Holder slipped into the night.

Jack Lucas, the youngest Marine - who lied about his age to enlist for WWII at the advanced age of... 14.

6 days after his 17th birthday, while fighting on Iwo Jima, he jumped on two grenades, saving the lives of his fellow Marines.

LUCAS, JACKLYN HAROLD

Rank and organization: Private First Class, U.S. Marine Corps Reserve, 1st Battalion, 26th Marines, 5th Marine Division. Place and date: Iwo Jima, Volcano Islands, 20 February 1945. Entered service at: Norfolk, Va. Born: 14 February 1928, Plymouth, N.C. Citation: For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving with the 1st Battalion, 26th Marines, 5th Marine Division, during action against enemy Japanese forces on Iwo Jima, Volcano Islands, 20 February 1945. While creeping through a treacherous, twisting ravine which ran in close proximity to a fluid and uncertain frontline on D-plus-1 day, Pfc. Lucas and 3 other men were suddenly ambushed by a hostile patrol which savagely attacked with rifle fire and grenades. Quick to act when the lives of the small group were endangered by 2 grenades which landed directly in front of them, Pfc. Lucas unhesitatingly hurled himself over his comrades upon 1 grenade and pulled the other under him, absorbing the whole blasting forces of the explosions in his own body in order to shield his companions from the concussion and murderous flying fragments. By his inspiring action and valiant spirit of self-sacrifice, he not only protected his comrades from certain injury or possible death but also enabled them to rout the Japanese patrol and continue the advance. His exceptionally courageous initiative and loyalty reflect the highest credit upon Pfc. Lucas and the U.S. Naval Service

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Private First Class Ross McGinnis.

I got an email from a buddy in-theater about, oh, three hours after this even occurred. All I can say is - about time, bureaucrats.

John,

Just wanted to give you a heads up that PFC Ross McGinnis, 1-26 IN, was KIA on 04 DEC 2006 here in Baghdad. His parents will receive his Silver Star (hopefully interim) at the funeral. He is being submitted for the Medal of Honor. AIF got a grenade into his M1151 through the top hatch.

He yelled "Grenade" and shielded his comrades by throwing his body on the grenade. Everyone in that vehicle walked away; some were pretty hurt, but nonetheless, were alive.

I hope this award doesn't drag out for two-plus years.

C

And well done, Private McGinnis.

REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT IN PRESENTATION OF THE MEDAL OF HONOR POSTHUMOUSLY TO PRIVATE FIRST CLASS ROSS ANDREW MCGINNIS

THE PRESIDENT: Good morning. Welcome to the White House.

A week ago on Memorial Day, the flag of the United States flew in half-staff in tribute to those who fell in service to our country. Today we pay special homage to one of those heroes: Private First Class Ross Andrew McGinnis of the U.S. Army. Private McGinnis died in a combat zone in Iraq on December the 4th, 2006 –- and for his heroism that day, he now receives the Medal of Honor.

In a few moments, the military aide will read the citation, and the Medal will be accepted by Ross's mom and dad, Romayne and Tom. It's a privilege to have with us as well Becky and Katie, Ross's sisters.

I also want to thank the other distinguished guests who have joined us: Mr. Vice President; Secretary Jim Peake of Veterans Affairs; Secretary Pete Geren of the Army; Secretary Michael Wynne of the Air Force; General Jim "Hoss" Cartwright, the Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. I appreciate other members of the administration for joining us.

I want to thank members of the United States Congress who have joined us today: Steve Buyer, John Peterson, Louie Gohmert. Thank you all for coming. I appreciate the Chaplain for the prayer. We welcome friends and family members of Ross, as well as members of the 1st Battalion, 26th Infantry, including Charlie Company, that's with us today.

We're also joined by Private McGinnis's vehicle crew

-– the very men who witnessed his incredible bravery. We welcome Sergeant First Class Cedric Thomas, Staff Sergeant Ian Newland, Sergeant Lyle Buehler, and Specialist Sean Lawson.

A special welcome to the prior recipients of the Medal of Honor, whose presence here is -- means a lot to the McGinnis family. Thank you for coming.

The Medal of Honor is the nation's highest military distinction. It's given for valor beyond anything that duty could require, or a superior could command. By long tradition, it's presented by the President. For any President, doing so is a high privilege.

Before he entered our country's history, Ross McGinnis came of age in the town of Knox, Pennsylvania. Back home they remember a slender boy with a big heart and a carefree spirit. He was a regular guy. He loved playing basketball. He loved working on cars. He wasn't too wild about schoolwork. (Laughter.) He had a lot of friends and a great sense of humor. In high school and in the Army, Ross became known for his ability to do impersonations. A buddy from boot camp said that Ross was the only man there who could make the drill sergeant laugh. (Laughter.)

Most of all, those who knew Ross McGinnis recall him as a dependable friend and a really good guy. If Ross was your buddy and you needed help or you got in trouble, he'd stick with you and be the one you could count on. One of his friends told a reporter that Ross was the type "who would do anything for anybody."

That element of his character was to make all the difference when Ross McGinnis became a soldier in the Army. One afternoon 18 months ago, Private McGinnis was part of a humvee patrol in a neighborhood of Baghdad. From his position in the gun turret, he noticed a grenade thrown directly at the vehicle. In an instant, the grenade dropped through the gunner's hatch. He shouted a warning to the four men inside. Confined in that tiny space, the soldiers had no chance of escaping the explosion. Private McGinnis could have easily jumped from the humvee and saved himself. Instead he dropped inside, put himself against the grenade, and absorbed the blast with his own body.

By that split-second decision, Private McGinnis lost his own life, and he saved his comrades. One of them was Platoon Sergeant Cedric Thomas, who said this: "He had time to jump out of the truck. He chose not to. He's a hero. He was just an awesome guy." For his actions, Private McGinnis received the Silver Star, a posthumous promotion in rank, and a swift nomination for the Medal of Honor. But it wasn't acclaim or credit that motivated him. Ross's dad has said, "I know medals never crossed his mind. He was always about friendships and relationships. He just took that to the ultimate this time."

When Ross McGinnis was in kindergarten, the teacher asked him to draw a picture of what he wanted to be when he grew up. He drew a soldier. Today our nation recognizing -- recognizes him as a soldier, and more than that –- because he did far more than his duty. In the words of one of our commanding generals, "Four men are alive because this soldier embodied our Army values and gave his life."

The day will come when the mission he served has been completed and the fighting is over, and freedom and security have prevailed. America will never forget those who came forward to bear the battle. America will always honor the name of this brave soldier who gave all for his country, and was taken to rest at age 19.

No one outside this man's family can know the true weight of their loss. But in words spoken long ago, we are told how to measure the kind of devotion that Ross McGinnis showed on his last day: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

Gospel also gives this assurance: "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." May the deep respect of our whole nation be a comfort to the family of this fallen soldier. May God always watch over the country he served, and keep us ever grateful for the life of Ross Andrew McGinnis.

And now I'd like to invite Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis to please come forward for the presentation, and the military aide will read the citation for the Medal of Honor.

The citation is read: The President of the United States of America, authorized by act of Congress, March 3rd, 1863, has awarded in the name of Congress the Medal of Honor to Private First Class Ross A. McGinnis, United States Army, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Private First Class Ross A. McGinnis distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as an M2 .50-caliber Machine Gunner, 1st Platoon, C Company, 1st Battalion, 26th Infantry Regiment, in connection with combat operations against an armed enemy in Adhamiyah, Northeast Baghdad, Iraq, on 4 December 2006.

That afternoon his platoon was conducting combat control operations in an effort to reduce and control sectarian violence in the area. While Private McGinnis was manning the M2 .50-caliber Machine Gun, a fragmentation grenade thrown by an insurgent fell through the gunner's hatch into the vehicle. Reacting quickly, he yelled "grenade," allowing all four members of his crew to prepare for the grenade's blast. Then, rather than leaping from the gunner's hatch to safety, Private McGinnis made the courageous decision to protect his crew. In a selfless act of bravery, in which he was mortally wounded, Private McGinnis covered the live grenade, pinning it between his body and the vehicle and absorbing most of the explosion.

Private McGinnis' gallant action directly saved four men from certain serious injury or death. Private First Class McGinnis' extraordinary heroism and selflessness at the cost of his own life, above and beyond the call of duty, are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit, and the United States Army.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Another empty chair at the table.

Literally, in the case of my Rotary club. I'm at that point in my life where death overshadows life, in that I'm old enough that some of the people I hang out with, well, they wear out, and in my family, at least, the next generation has not yet entered their child-bearing-and-raising stage. Since none of them are yet married, though a couple are, um, "practicing," I'm not complaining. So funerals predominate. Such was the case this week, when fellow Rotarian (and the second of my two mentors-in-Rotary) slipped from "Senior Active" to "Career Completed."

The colors are at half-staff again, at Castle Argghhh!

Colonel Robert "the Baron" von Schlemmer, 83, of Leavenworth, passed away on Memorial Day, Monday, May 26, 2008. If you're a soldier, not a bad day to die, if the time has come to lay your tools aside.

The Baron (as he was called throughout his military career) was born in Long Beach, California in 1925. Baron attended Hollywood High School (how cool is that, eh?) and was drafted into World War II out of Los Angeles City College Art School. He served as a medic, earning a Combat Medical Badge fighting in the Pacific and CBI theaters.

He attended UCLA on the GI Bill and attained the rank of cadet colonel and was a Distinguished Military Graduate in the Army ROTC program there. After school and service in Korea, where he earned a Combat Infantryman's Badge to go with his CMB, he married Joanne Paul in 1951. The von Schlemmers had a pretty classic WWII-generation military career in the Infantry. They served overseas and around the nation a lot - Joanne gave birth to children in Okinawa, Japan; Fort Benning, Georgia; Frankfurt, Germany; and Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.

His career was split between schooling at Fort Benning and Fort Leavenworth, and infantry and intelligence jobs in the US, overseas, and he got stuck at the Pentagon, as most Colonels do. His career included commands in Korea and notably with the Old Guard in Washington, D.C., for President Kennedy. If you've seen the footage of President Kennedy's funeral - you've seen the Baron's work. After more than 30 years service to the nation, he retired from the Army to continue his service in a different vein - to his adopted home of Leavenworth and Fort Leavenworth.

He and Joanne spent years sponsoring officers from around the world who were attending the Command and General Staff College. Sponsorship means they picked up the officers and their families at the airport, helped them get settled and through the bureaucratic maze of getting an identity established in the US - housing, banks, cars, licenses, etc. They sponsored officers from all over the world, especially the Middle East and Northern Africa — a part of the world that Baron loved and whose cultures he greatly respected. Every summer, he taught "American" to the teenage sons and daughters of visiting officers.

Baron was a committed historian and a good teller of the story, serving as the preferred tour guide of the fort and the surrounding area for visiting dignitaries and performed in the “Living Museum” in downtown. He also served this community through work with the Kansas Governor's Board of Tourism and Leavenworth Convention and Visitors Bureau. He recently received the Tourism Ambassador award from the Leavenworth Convention and Visitor's Bureau. Robert was an active Mason with the Scottish Rite, Hancock Lodge. He was dedicated to the Rotary Club of Leavenworth, High 12 Club and the Acacia Fraternity, UCLA Chapter.

Not to worry, the Baron's legacy of service and care has been well-established. He is survived by his wife, Joanne; his daughter, Gretchen of Sonora, Calif.; and his sons, Paul of Ridgecrest, Calif., Kurt of Kansas City, Mo., and Mark of Lawrence, Kan., and their families. He had six grandchildren and recently one great-grandchild - and all those soldiers, US and foreign, who served with him or who were, in a sense, served by him - and he is well-remembered in the community, where he had a real, day-to-day impact, where he lived up to, no, exemplified, the motto of Rotary...

Service above Self.

Rotary meets Wednesdays for lunch at the Riverfront Community Center in Leavenworth. Baron's visitation is at the RCC today.

I'll see ya for lunch today at the Riverfront, one last time, Baron. To say goodbye.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam for Colonel Robert von Schlemmer.

Update: I'm back from the service, which was actually great fun, to see pictures of the Baron before I knew him. It brought back a lot of memories of "Growing Up Army." Some of you may read this and think to yourself, "Okay, got it - important to you, nice guy, etc - but other than that, so what?"

Well, leaving aside all the other answers, I'll provide this, as a direct answer, especially to those of you who live in the area, or are soldiers.

This. This is a direct impact.

There was a representative from former General and Secretary of State Colin Powell at the service. Bob von Schlemmer is mentioned more than once in General Powell's book - because while others took the public face of the project... Bob von Schlemmer is one of the key people behind why there is a Buffalo Soldier Monument at Fort Leavenworth - and it would be a far different looking monument if not for his "devil's advocacy" regarding the design. That alone is a lasting legacy worth noting.

Fare thee well, thou good and faithful servant.

Memorial Day from the bottom of the world

In May 1942 New Zealand was invaded.

It was of little strategic value to fight this far from the American mainland and it can be argued that it was in fact counter to the US war effort to expend resources when they were fighting a war they were not winning.

Two things saved New Zealand froma real invasion. A handful of Australian territorials on the Kakoda Trail and the US Navy getting into a fight in the Coral Sea they had little real expectation of winning. Although it uasually assumed that the Japanese had intended to invade Australia next their actual target was New Zealand from which they planned to isolate Australia. The currency for the ocupation had already been printed.

In stead of Japanese, we got Marines. A lot of them never got home again.

From here they left and fought in the Pacific War eventually driving the Japanese Empire back to its own islands;

Kwajalein Guadalcannal Saipan New Georgia Peleiu Bouganville Iwo Jima Tarawa Okinawa Cape Gloucester

We asked, they came.

Thankyou very much.

Memorial Day, 2008. At the Castle we remember...

First, we remember the cost to the families who lose a loved one. Especially the trauma of losing a warrior in combat:

Second Lieutenant Leonard Cowherd, Part 1, and Part 2.

They also pay a heavy price, those who wait for their warrior to return.

The Castle remembers those who touched the Castle's Denizens this year:

Private First Class Shawn Gajdos.

Sergeant First Class Greg Sutton.

Private First Class Cameron Payne, Private William C. Johnston, and Colonel Michael Butler.

Colonel Royal Brown.

Staff Sergeant Roy Lewsader and Private First Class Michael Pittman.

Captain Joshua E. Steele, Sergeant 1st Class Christopher D. Henderson and Sergeant 1st Class John M. Hennen.

General Robin Olds.

Corporal Stephen Bouzane, Private Joel Wiebe, Sergeant Christos Karigiannis

Specialist Carter Gamble Junior.

Corporal Eric Palmer and Private First Class Andre Craig Jr.

Captain Darrell C. Lewis

Sheldon Lyman Rutherford

Charles Lindberg and Specialist James Adair.

Captain Matthew Johnathan Dawe, Corporal Cole Bartsch, Private Lane Watkins, and Master Corporal Colin Bason

Colonel John Lockey.

Master Sergeant Randy Gillespie.

Sergeant Courtney Finch and Specialist Daniel Leckel.

Staff Sergeant Travis Bachman and Specialist Camy Florexil

Specialist Braden Long.

1st Lieutenant Benjamin Hall.

Corporal Cory Wiens and Cooper.

WO1 William H. Laurence, Jr., CPT Stephen Douglas Carr, SP5 Larry Bruce Jacobson, SP5 Benny Ray Halstead

Master Sergeant Scott M. Carney and Sergeant First Class Daniel E. Miller

Staff Sergeant Jason Butkus, Specialist Rodney Johnson, Sergeant Joel L. Murray, Specialist David J. Lane, and Private Randol S. Shelton

Master Sergeant Patrick Magnani and Staff Sergeant Courtney Hollinsworth.

Sergeant Edmund Jeffers

Corporal Nathan Hornburg and Specialist Joshua Reeves

Sergeant Elden Lehnherr

Lieutenant Mark Daily.

Miriam Lehnherr

CW4 Keith Yoakum and CWO Jason Defrenn

Corporal Nicholas Beauchamp and Private Michel Levesque

Yujiro Shidara

Triticale.

Major Andrew J. Olmsted and Captain Thomas J. Casey

Chief Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson

Staff Sergeant Eric Barker

Aunt Elaine.

Private First Class Ray Jacobs.

Flight Lieutenant Michael Shand and Flight Lieutenant William Fordyce

Charlie O'Connor

Frank Piasecki

Wiliam F. Buckley

Arthur C. Clarke

Staff Sergeant Keith Maupin

Carl Wiliam Martin

Commander "Mac" McWhorter

Carolyn Sue Johnston

Not that I expect you to click and read every link - but the "Surge" is represented in a sense. The list runs in order the posts were posted - and the time spread between them has lengthened, and more people who were not combat casualties, but rather the casualties of time and wear appear towards the end of the list. A trend that continues, hopefully, into the next year.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam for our fallen, and those of our Canadian brothers-in-arms.

.

He Breaks the Bow

[Kat - Sunday, May 25, 2008]

We go to the garden three times a year, sometimes more. In the garden, flowers bloom all year round. Over the hill, down into the valley, across the little wooden bridge that sits above a stone lined creek. Then, over the next hill, down by the tree. A little later, around the corner and up on the next hill, we walk to the places that we know well, the symmetrical paths guiding our feet.

It's hot now, the sun above us with a slight haze settled over the rolling hills. We hold a quiet conversation, pausing now and again before moving on. Sometimes we walk in silence, each contemplating their own thoughts or, maybe, as I am, holding a silent conversation with those we walk among.

[continued in flash traffic]

Flash Traffic (extended entry) Follows �

I noticed the couple walking towards us along the path. White haired, the man holding a small arrangement of flowers in one hand and his hat in the other, she with a paper in her hand; they walked as I did, head down, counting:

58.......57.......56......

"Are you lost?" I asked as we met on the path.

The lady looked at the paper, bewildered, and then to me, "Do you work here?"

"No, Ma'am. But I have been here many times," I replied. The older gentleman, in his jeans and checked shirt, was looking down at his hat, then out over the garden. I glanced back to the lady, helpfully.

"Oh. We have, too," she said. "Come every year, but it seems like it keeps changing." I know what she meant. We come every year and it seems like it just keeps growing. There's always a new addition in the garden.

"Are you looking for someone?" I prompted again as I felt a drop of sweat trickle down past my sun glasses.

The man never spoke. "Our dear friend. The lady said section 58. I thought it was on the end of a row, but..." She gestured half heartedly.

"What month and year?" I smiled helpfully and then glanced across the field to get my bearings. The year that section of the garden was added is plainly visible on stark white markers.

"Um...2005...May, I think."

"Oh. I know where that is. I'll show you the way." We had already been to all the places in the garden we needed to go. I knew them well and all the places in between.

I turned back along the path and down back towards the bowl of the valley. Earlier, the thunder had rolled across the hills, echoing like cannon, disturbing the quiet, before a few large drops had fallen. I picked my way carefully along the path, avoiding the bare areas where grass had not yet grown in the new additions. Head down, counting again:

56...57....58....

World War II. Vietnam. Vietnam. Vietnam. Vietnam. Korea. Vietnam. Vietnam. Persian Gulf. Vietnam. Vietnam. Vietnam.

GYSGT. USMC. MPH. LT COL. AIR FORCE. DFC. 2 OLC. 1SGT. ARMY. BSM. OLC. ARCOM. S1. USN. PFC. ARMY. MSM. AAM.

When I first came to the garden I didn't know how to read the stories written in the stone. Now I know. I read them quietly to myself as we went along.

Two young men came up the path in a cart, "Are you finding everything alright?" These polite caretakers are the reason that the garden looks so beautiful all year long.

"Yes. Thank you." I gestured to the older couple who approached more slowly. "They're looking for their friend."

"What's his name? We can look him up for you." They stopped and one young man stepped out, pulling out a book.

I turned to the lady as she approached, the man still silent, standing behind. "What's his name?"

"David...David Leonard Buckles." She looked back to the silent man who stayed where he was.

"Just a minute." The young man flipped the book open. One page. Two pages. "Almost there." He ran his finger down the page, near the bottom he stopped. "Ah...David L. Buckles. Section 58, Row 9, 16." He closed the book and looked up. "In this section, go west...ah...back up the hill. The numbers are on the back of the stones." The stones always face east in the garden. Towards the sunrise so the sun will always be on their faces.

The lady must have still looked confused, "Here, I'll show you." He placed the book back in the cart and took the lady's arm. The other young man followed behind in the cart.

"Thank you," I said as they passed.

"Yes. Thank you." The lady echoed somewhat relieved. She turned back a little to me as they walked, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I watched them go, a few yards back up the hill towards the silent man. He put his red hat back on, the one with the yellow writing: USMC. Still silent, he raised his hand. I raised mine in acknowledgement. In that moment, I knew him. Then he turned and walked on.

I looked out over the valley, watching the others who moved quietly through the garden of stone with their flowers and small gifts, pausing here and there to read the stories, bending down to place their offerings or straighten a flag. A young woman sat near a stone while a boy stood fidgeting near by.

I watched my mom walk back towards me through the stones, along the grassy path, "I found Fred. Somebody's already been to visit."

"Oh." I heard the chimes from the chapel on the hill start to chime the Armed Forces Medley. We knew so many here in the garden.

Every time I come to the garden, I learn something new. Why the stones faced east. How the sections were organized. How to read their stories. I had always admired the long rows of stone. I knew that the position of each stone was measured out to form precise lines like a military formation on the parade ground.

This time, I got "it". The "it" we're supposed to get when we honor all those who have fought for our nation and are now gone. Not sadness or grief, nor pride or gratitude nor even peace. Not even simply satisfaction for doing what should be done.

They rested here in military precision, the stones a measured distance apart, the last formation, but they had already been relieved from their posts. Their job was done.

What were the words? They were floating around on the edge of my memory. Oh. Yes...

He breaks the bow and shatters the spears...

An odd feeling struck me. Odd because I was standing in the garden of stone, a place where those who had lived through battle now rested and those who remained often still grieved.

It was...happiness.

"What time is it?"

"Hmmm?" I cocked my head and listened to the chimes fade away on the last notes of the Navy song, Anchors Aweigh. "A little after two, I think. Are you ready to go?" We had a birthday party to get to.

I took her arm and we left the garden. But, we'd be back soon to visit again, learning the additions, admiring the flowers and reading the stories as we walked to the places that we knew well. Next time, I'll remember all the words.

Leavenworth National Cemetery Psalm 46:9-10

9 He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear,
he burns the shields with fire.

10 "Be still, and know that I am God;

� Secure this line!

Reporting As Ordered, Sir! �

---

Lord,
take them and keep them.

I type this as I am crying...God, thank you for sparing my family from this, and thank you for making such men as will risk it, every generation.

by Foxfier on May 26, 2008 5:00 AM

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...Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

Psalms 30:5

Thank you and rest well.

by Cricket on May 26, 2008 8:44 AM

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Kat,

The young men were being PC with their comment about facing east. The bodies are facing east to face the returning and Risen Christ.

by Azygos on May 26, 2008 1:40 PM

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It's often difficult to know what to say. We in Australia feel for your soldiers for our alliance has been long and many are the struggles we have shared. Remembering them is important to us too, though our official remembrance is on another day. Still any day can be good for remembering, can it not?

Kat you are such a good writer here, you show the compassion and quiet honour in a living setting like few can.

by Argent on May 26, 2008 2:11 PM

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Well done, Kat.

by John of Argghhh! on May 26, 2008 2:39 PM

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Agreed, John.
VERY well done.

A few years ago I bought a special t-shirt that I only wear once a year, on Memorial Day. It's black. The front has a picture of a flag and a few soldiers who appear to be ready for battle. The words on the back, however, are the reason I bought the shirt, and only wear it once a year:

"What else can you so to our Veterans on Memorial Day other than Thank You?"

Thank you.

by AFSister on May 27, 2008 8:23 AM

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� Dismissed, Soldier!

by Kat on May 26, 2008

An empty chair at the table.

[Armorer's note: this post will remain up top all day. New content comes in below]

Today, a flag that flew in Iraq was run up the halyard and then descended back, half-way. The colors fly at half-mast this day at Castle Argghhh!

Carolyn Sue Johnston, wife to my office-mate Keith, died last week after a tough-fought struggle with cancer, and is being laid to rest today in Fort Leavenworth National Cemetery.

It's been a long, hard slog for the family, the echoes of which I heard every day in the phone calls, while Keith fought the docs to get her correctly diagnosed and treated, the fight with disease, and Keith's manful efforts throughout to keep his family on an even keel and Sue's spirits up - and his own spirit strong to be the rock that anchored it all.

One quick way to gauge a person's success in life is not how big the house, how fat the bank book - but rather, how many people show up for the funerary events. Last night I went to the wake at the funeral home. It was packed, with a continual flow for two hours. Sue's was a good life, well lived. Last night her father said to me "She was a stubborn girl, who knew what she wanted, and went for it. She taught me so much. And gave us so many chances to do things we would never have done otherwise. She was a good girl." Indeed.

You did well with all this, Keith. As best you could in trying times. I am so sorry for your loss. Dwell on the future, cherish the past. Your family enfolds you - and your friends have your back.

Carolyn Sue Johnston entered the loving arms of her Savior on 17 May 2008. Born in Albuquerque, New Mexico on September 25, 1961, she attended McCollum Elementary School, Manzano High School, and Hoffmantown Baptist Church. After a brief attendance at the University of New Mexico, she enlisted in the U.S. Army, attending basic training at Fort McClellan, Alabama and advanced individual training at Fort Gordon, Georgia.

She served as a communications specialist for the U.S. Armys 26th Signal Battalion, 93rd Signal Brigade in the Federal Republic of Germany from 1981 to 1983. Upon returning from Germany, she served as a trainer at the U.S. Army Signal Center at Fort Gordon, Georgia. In 1985, she returned to civilian life, devoting herself to her family needs and numerous community volunteer activities. Eventually, her love of military service could not be contained, and she returned to duty as a radioman in the U.S. Naval Reserves. She was assigned to the U.S. Navys Western Pacific Fleet where she saw duty on Guam, Saipan, and surrounding waters.

Continuing to support her husbands military career, she arrived at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas in 1993. Her children attended MacArthur and Bradley Elementary schools and Patton Junior High, where she tirelessly volunteered for many of her childrens school programs and activities. She worked as a library assistant and substitute teacher in the Leavenworth, Lansing, and Platte County school districts. Her teaching and mentoring continued, as she began coaching swimming for the Fort Leavenworth Lancers and several years later, as the assistant swim coach of the Platte County High School mens swim team, where she coached for six years.

She also had a love of photography, and she attended the University of Missouri in Kansas City to pursue that passion. She remained ever active in her faith, as a volunteer at Immaculate Conception Parish and as a Sunday school teacher at the Forts Main Post Chapel. Her zest for life, her sense of humor, and her desire to serve others, left their mark on many people.

She is survived by her husband Keith, son Christopher, daughter Angela, mother and father, Bob and Sharon Benton, and sisters Marsha, Jennifer, and Melodie who all miss her terribly but know she is with her Redeemer.

Memorial service will be held at 10:00 AM Friday, May 23, 2008 at the Main Post Chapel, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. She will be interred with military honors at the Fort Leavenworth National Cemetery. Contributions may be made to the American Cancer Society on her behalf that others may live.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, of Carolyn Sue Johnston, soldier, sailor, wife, mother.

-George Santayana

Since Sue ended her military career a sailor - I'll end this post with the Navy Hymn.

If you've spare change you don't know what to do with - make a donation to the American Cancer Society, in Sue's name, that maybe the scourge will be beaten back to a bad memory. That would be a fitting legacy beyond the wonderful family she helped build.

Too many honors and recognition come too late.

It's nice to see some that beat the curve.

Meet Chief Petty Officer David Eberhart.

My fellow Chiefs,

I wanted to share with you this picture as well as a short synopsis of how it came about.

AO1 David Eberhart (pictured) is terminally ill with cancer. I was his Chief for his first tour on the USS INDEPENDENCE and even then his goal in the Navy was to be a Chief Petty Officer. His career, though very successful, has been interrupted with cancer treatment, periods of remission and finally with the news of being terminal.

He is currently assigned to MALS-24 at Kbay. A few months ago he requested to see the MCPON [Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy - the Navy's senior enlisted sailor. -ed.]. MCPON Campa happened to be on the island visiting and went to the hospital to see AO1. It was explained to him [MCPON] how badly AO1 wanted to be a Chief and that he even took the Chief's exam from the hospital during a three day period -- he didn't have the strength for more than an hour at a time. On his good days he would put on his uniform and make his way to work though the time there took a severe toll on him physically.

He did not make board as he was six-points shy. It was requested by PACFLT Chiefs that AO1 be made an Honorary Chief Petty Officer. We talked about it in Newport and MCPON was in concurrence. The intent was for MCPON himself to make the presentation.

News came this week that AO1 Eberhart may not make it through the weekend as his health is rapidly declining. FLTCM Tom Howard along with a ton of Chiefs (including CMDCM Don Krampert from CPRW-2) from the area banded together to make this happen as quickly as possible. On Thursday, AO1 David Eberhart was designated an Honorary Chief Petty Officer.

I personally called and talked to Chief David Eberhart following his promotion Thursday and the excitement in his voice came with a strength and commitment that cannot be explained in words. He remembered well our time on the INDY but his short term memory is fading quickly.

Chief Eberhart's terminal prognosis remains listed in days. He is married with two children.

Thank you for all you do.

V/r Aaron

Aaron A. Shipley
Sailor and Command Master Chief
Commander, Patrol and Reconnaissance GROUP

As of this writing, Chief Eberhart is still with us. Which is why I wanted to get this up.

H/t to a Senior Chief for letting me know, and High Five to the Chief community Goat Locker for getting it done. If a bunch of senior NCOs think it's the right thing to do - it usually is wise to go along with them.

Calling for Prayers and Positive Thoughts

Sarah is the kind of wife a good warfighter dreams of having waiting for him back home--strong, loyal, responsible, flexible, loving and unspeakably proud of her husband and the profession he has chosen... A warrior wife.

Less than a year ago, far later than what they had planned for, she was finally pregnant. She lost the baby at about six weeks, though she didn't know until later.

Just over a week ago, her husband deployed to Iraq. Last weekend, she found out she was pregnant again. It wasn't part of their plan, but they rejoiced across the miles.

The other day, she got some very bad news [three separate links].

Yesterday, it got worse.

Love, prayers, good thoughts... whatever you've got, please send it out on her behalf. Even strong and independent warrior wives need help at times.

Mother's Day, 2008

Hey, it's probably apocryphal. So what?

BEING A MOTHER...

After 17 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, 'I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.'
* * *
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been alone for 20 years, but the demands of my work and my two boys had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.
* * *
That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.
* * *
'What's wrong, aren't you well,' she asked?
* * *
My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.
* * *
'I thought it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,' I responded. 'Just the two of us.'
She thought about it for a moment, and then said, 'I would like that very much.'
* * *
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her
house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last
birthday on November 19th.
* * *
She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angels. 'I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed,' she said, as she got into that new white van. 'They can't wait to hear about our date'.
* * *
We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. 'It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,' she said. 'Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor,' I responded.
* * *
During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation- -nothing extraordinary but catching up
on recent events of each other's life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.
* * *
As we arrived at her house later, she said, 'I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite
you.' I agreed.
* * *
'How was your dinner date ?' asked my wife when I got home. 'Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,' I answered.
* * *
A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.
* * *
Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place
mother and I had dined. An attached note said: 'I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I
could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife.
You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.'
* * *
At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: 'I LOVE YOU' and to give our loved ones the time that t hey deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till 'some other time.'
* * *
Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby.... somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, 'normal' is history.
* * *
Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct... somebody never took a three-year-old shopping. [Heh. Remember that mysterious 'lolo' I wanted?]
* * *
Somebody said being a mother is boring.... somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit. [Mom's response, as I missed taking paint off her door by microns - "I assumed you'd already *been* driving!"]
* * *
Somebody said if you're a' good' mother, your child will 'turn out good'.... somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee. [Um, no comment.]
* * *
Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother.... somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.
* * *
Somebody said you can't love the second child as much as you love the first.... somebody doesn't have two children. [As if love is a finite, non-renewable resource.]
* * *
Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery.... somebody never watched her 'baby' get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten ... or on a plane headed for military 'boot camp.' [Or her husband and son going off to dangerous places...]
* * *
Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married....somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.
* * *
Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home....somebody never had
grandchildren .
* * *
Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her.... somebody isn't a mother.
* * *
Pass this along to all the 'mothers' in your life. And to everyone who ever had a mother. This isn't just about being a mother; it's about appreciating The people in your life while you have them....no matter who that person is.

********************************

And the grounds of the Castle are liberally sprinkled with daffodils - since the Castle is your equivalent of that pre-paid dinner.

I miss you.

Love,

John

God Speed, CDR McWhorter

Hamilton “Mac” McWhorter; former Navy commander had an early love of flying

Hamilton “Mac” McWhorter was 7 years old when a barnstorming pilot visited his hometown and he took his first ride in an airplane.
From that moment, he knew he never wanted to do anything else.
The future Navy commander was a naval aviation cadet undergoing training when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Within a couple of years he had become the first American pilot to achieve “Ace” status flying a new airplane, the Hellcat.

CDR McWhorter passed away April 12 at his home in El Cajon. He was 81. A memorial service was held Sunday the 4th at First United Methodist Church of El Cajon. His ashes were interred yesterday, May 5 at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery.

You can view a History Channel snippet with CDR McWhorter on YouTube.

Thank you for your service, sir.
Hotal Tango to the AO Shack on Yahoo Groups.....they let me peek........Maggie

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Someone You Should Know

Staff Sergeant Carletta Davis, Combat Medic.

Davis was worried about returning to Iraq and made sure to spend more time with her family, including her husband and three sons before her most recent deployment.

“I think she was concerned particularly for her children,” [her mother] said. “She knew the danger of going back a third time.”

Yet she went. She died in Tal Al-Dahab, a few miles from here, on 5 November, 2007, along with four other soldiers when an IED detonated near their Humvee. They were enroute to set up a combat aid station.
.
AFSister has a post you should read -- about the Band of Sisters serving their country. Performing their duty, often at hazard, often unrecognized.

There is another Band of Sisters who performed their duties, faced the hazard and, in our sorrow, we search for ways to recognize their sacrifice and honor their memories.

SSG Carletta Davis will be remembered.

Our hospital, staffed and run by the 506th Expeditionary Medical Squadron, is undergoing renovations. Part of that was to be an upgrade to the combat clinic, the ER for casualties coming in by medevac.

Instead of upgrading the existing clinic, they built a new one.

The paint was still wet when I took that picture...

An American Journey

"There are only two important things in life: the people who you love and who love you, and your country."

Take a close look at that group of pictures above. They're all of the same person.

He grew up in an abusive household, one in which his drunk of a father shot his mother after they had divorced when he was eight... and before they remarried when he was ten. As an adult, he was a baseball player--Rookie of the Year, World Series MVP, a member of the great New York Yankees post-WWII teams. He's famous today for broadcasting baseball games on CBS and San Diego Padres radio. In fact, he's in the broadcasters' wing of the Baseball Hall of Fame. And...

He's a highly-decorated dive-bomber and fighter pilot, veteran of WWII and Korea. A Marine Corps colonel.

But according to his colleagues and friends, you wouldn't know any of that from entering his home. They report it contains no displays of baseball awards or artifacts from his famous teammates, no medals or "I love me" wall as some veterans have, no pictures or plaques from his ongoing broadcasting days. When he is spoken of by those who know him, instead of talking about his achievements, they use the word "gentleman" a lot. "Not a nicer guy around," is often heard, too--both from colleagues and fans. And in his life of 32 years as a San Diego celebrity, the worst thing anyone has ever said about him is that he has a habit of being married to younger women. But hey, when you're 83 years old, most of the women out there are younger!

Getting him to talk about himself is a challenge to those who have interviewed him. He jokes about being a terrible baseball player, and prefers instead to talk about how lucky he was to know the other people on his team. He doesn't talk about being a Marine, and he acts as if he's amazed to find himself in the Baseball Hall of Fame. But after years of "nagging" from his wife, he has finally put it all on paper for the rest of us.

Meet Jerry Coleman, beloved broadcaster of the San Diego Padres (from listening to him call games for 20 years, I assure you that interview is vintage Jerry--in his humility, gentlemanly behavior, and humor). His long-time broadcast partner Ted Leitner gets away with calling him "Colonel," but I suspect Ted has a special dispensation. To the rest of us he's just our favorite Padres broadcaster, our guide to the game, Mr. Malapropism, and another amazing example of that "Greatest Generation."

A tough childhood amid the Great Depression, baseball in the heyday of Maris and Mantle, service in WWII and Korea, and life in the paradise of Southern California... enough for at least three quintessentially American lives... and still going strong. As soon as I can scrape together the shekels, I'm buying this.

[Update: cross-posted at Fuzzilicious Thinking]

Carl William Martin, 1926-2008

Since today is the anniversary of the landings on Okinawa, this is apt.

They paid for this: Red Beach 2, Tarawa, 20 november, 1943...

John,

Your blog name is how I feel today. Here’s why.

Carl William Martin was born in March 1926 in Cumberland, Maryland. When we entered World War II, his father was given a choice: join the service or relocate to Pittsburgh (alone) to continue his work in the steel mills as an essential war industry; he relocated to stay close to his family of small children.

Carl, the oldest child, waited until his 17th birthday and then took his father’s place. He joined the Navy but was sent to boot camp at Parris Island and assigned to the Marine Corps' Second Assault Amphibian Battalion. The "Second Amphibian Tractor Battalion" was an organic unit of the 2nd Marine Division, composed of a Headquarters and Service Company and three letter companies, all equipped with the Landing Vehicle Tracked-1 (LVT-1). In 1942, the Battalion set sail from San Diego, CA with the First Marine Division and participated in assaults on Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Saipan, Tinian and Okinawa. Carl was seriously wounded, but stayed with it until the Battalion was deactivated in November 1945 and he was discharged.

Carl came home, married his sweetheart, Margaret, and started a heating oil business. He was a bright guy and invented some controls for heating units that were patented and sold worldwide. He and his skills remained in high demand from businesses and residence owners for the rest of his life.

In 2001, Margaret contracted Alzheimer’s and quickly became totally uncommunicative. Carl moved her to a nursing home. For the next five years, until Margaret passed away, Carl went to the nursing home every single day, seven days a week and 52 weeks out of the year, to have lunch with Margaret and talk to her. He left her voice on the answering machine for his heating oil business, so whenever we called we heard her first. He would let her entire greeting play before he would pick up the phone.

Two years almost to the day after Margaret died, Carl passed away last Friday in Cumberland. He paid his dues to the nation and to his wife and family. Now he is back with Margaret in heaven – and probably wishing that he had gone to hell so that he could handle the heating controls down there. But in spite of his experience in the Pacific, he didn’t qualify for deployment to that hot spot.

Rest in Peace, Carl. I have lost a really great pal.

Jack

The sheepdogs walk among us all our lives, and we never notice them, until we need them. A whole generation of them are slipping by us now, even as you read this.

...so we could have this - Red Beach 2, Tarawa, today.

Fair winds and a following sea, sailor.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, for Carl Martin, US Navy, WWII, a friend of a friend of the Castle.

Patti and the Angels Receive More Kudos

Patti Bader, leader, motivator and facilitator of literally hundreds of thousands of "troop support" volunteers has again received national attention. Her husband writes:

For founding Soldiers Angels and other exemplary work that she does to make the world a better place, Patti has just been notified that she is the recipient of the VFW 2008 James E. Van Zandt Citizenship Award.

From the VFW web site: James E. "Jimmy" Van Zandt was Commander-in-Chief of the VFW three times, and a veteran of three wars (World War I, World War II, and the Korean War). He served as an enlisted man in World War I and retired as an admiral following the Korean War. Descended from a pioneer family in Blair County, Pennsylvania, Jimmy worked his way from newsboy to United States Congressman. Recipients of the award named in Van Zandt's honor exemplify his dedication to public service, citizenship, and other admirable qualities.

[Denizens know, but newer visitors may not: besides sending hundred of thousands of care packages, ministering to the wounded, comforting families of the fallen, sewing blankets for hospitalized veterans, and caring for those on the front lines and their families on the homefront in myriad other ways, Soldiers' Angels is the organization that facilitates a program especially near and dear to the hearts of Castle Denizens--Project Valour-IT.]

Bringing Matt Home

It's been confirmed: SSG Keith "Matt" Maupin's remains have been positively id'd through DNA evidence.

He's really gone. It's something I've always "known", but somehow, getting that confirmation tonight is just numbing.

I keep finding myself saying "He's really gone", and breaking out in tears again. His parents NEVER gave up believing that he would be found, alive, and brought home. They were partially right- he was found, and will be brought home.. but not alive.

He's really, truly, beyond doubt... gone. ~AFSister

Update: No point in setting a place down at Fiddler's Green, they already know, and have for some time. They've just been waiting for us to catch up.

So, let's catch up -

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, for Staff Sergeant Keith "Matt" Maupin.

Entropy.

"overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out."

Arthur C. Clarke's star has gone out.

Farewell, old friend.

My absolute favorite Clarke story - The 9 Billion Names of God.

Therefore, now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam of Sir Arthur C. Clarke, futurist, most excellent SciFi author, and Flight Lieutenant, Royal Air Force.

"‘It’s nothing as trivial as that’."

Dear Soldier: I Am the One

[Kat - this is a personal letter to our soldiers, veterans and, to some extent, their families on the anniversary of the beginning of the Battle for Iraq and nearly seven years after the invasion of Afghanistan]

Dear Soldier and Veteran,

Before I begin, I wanted to take this moment to thank you for your service on my behalf. I realize that these brief words cannot do justice to, nor express my feelings about, that service, your time a way from your family, the risks that you have taken, the exhaustion you experienced, the wounds you have suffered, the friends that you have lost or the conditions that you live in while you are fulfilling your oath to defend our nation. Yet, I wanted to say it anyway because I don't believe that you hear it as often as you should from your fellow citizens. So, thank you.

This letter, though, is more in the way of an introduction and an explanation. We have been at war now for almost seven years. It is one of the longest wars our nation has ever fought. The fact that we can still voluntarily muster so many fine men and women to take the oath, put on a uniform and take up the fight is a testament to the spirit of service that our nation has nurtured since the moment the first shot was fired in our Revolutionary War. The many long deployments in tough conditions is a also testament to the resilience and fortitude of people like you.

I am the one.

Vets for Freedom "Heroes Tour" Kick-off

I should've put this up earlier, but things got busy.

Vets for Freedom is kicking off the "National Heroes Tour" in San Diego tomorrow (Friday) to draw attention to their mission as they travel to Washington, DC to meet with legislators ahead of General Petraeus' expected testimony in April. Events will include appearances/speeches by heroes like Bud Day, Marcus Luttrell and David Bellavia, as well as local heroes. There will be a book signing in Pendleton in the morning, then a party on the deck of the Midway Museum at 6:30 p.m., including a parachute team landing and F-18 flyover, and music and food until 10:00 (Hugh Hewitt will be broadcasting from the ship starting at 3:00).

All events are free. Uncle Jimbo of Blackfive and I will be there to cover the news for the blogs.

Hope to see you there!

Sigh.

Thanks,

Love,

John

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, SWWBO - I wish I was home.

Love,

the Armorer

[Update: I kept my promise! Guess who's Number 1 in Google for a SISW?

Casualties among the families of Denizens.

Name Muffy, Muster the Guard!

Settle down, Scout!

Cricket, Castle Chef, and her family lost Tigger two weeks ago. I asked her for a picture, but she had none, and sent this "thousand words," instead. 'Tis enough, methinks.

I have been looking for one for the past week and a half. I thought we had one or several on the desktop and the laptop, but no such luck. I have checked my camera's storage chips and nothing. And that has upset me more than I realized, because he was such a great cat and I was the one who had the pics of him jumping into the car, sleeping on Rebekah's lap, and my personal favorite; his naptime on her bed with her beanie baby teddy bear. He was so very gentle, for all that he was a redhead. He never bit or scratched anyone, and was a real gentleman. His favorite thing to do was plop in the middle of the kitchen during mealtime preparations and just watch.

He knew that if he was patient enough, he would get a bit of raw meat or some other tidbit such as tuna or even potato. He loved clam chowder...vegetables too. Needless to say, because it is rather rich, we didn't let him sample it too often. He left a couple of litters and they are all very handsome and very well bred cats just like their sire.

There were times he would pay the rent by leaving a few mice or squirrels on the back deck... and the time he left a couple of items for his mate to drag back to her kittens. He tangled with a bobcat; had a serious wound and that was when we found out he was positive for feline leukemia. We have had the other cats vaccinated.

While we waited for the vet to get ready, he sat on my shoulder, then Rebekah took him. She held him while he was injected first with the sedative, then the fatal injection. We cried all the way home. He is buried in the hobbit hole the kids dug the first year we moved here. He can see the other animals and join in the moonlight hunts.

All I have is the word picture, the memories, and a new space in my heart.

Murray, Castle Metalsmith and Trebuchet-maker to the Stars, lost his companion Jessica T. Hill, his pal of 18 years.

And Castle BarnCat, Sergeant S'mudge, has been moved from the MIA list, to Missing, Presumed Lost.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance sing three sparks to the Great Hunting Ground and Tennis Ball Chasing Facility.

They await us at Piddler's Green.

Someone You Should Know

I had just finished debriefing CPT Mike O’Connor, my section leader, about my first flight of my first AT with the Jersey Guard. I left him in the Planning Room on the second floor of the old wooden hangar at Wheeler-Sack AAF, walked out the door and down the single stairway onto the hangar floor and promptly came nose-to-nose with – Mike O’Connor.

“Geez, Mike, how’d you get *down* here so fast?”

“Easy – I’m twins.” *leprechaun grin* And he continued walking across the hangar floor towards the ramp.

I turned around to head toward our own aircraft parking area and promptly came nose-to-nose with – Mike O’Connor. Who had just descended the stairs from the second floor.

*blink*

I glanced over my shoulder to see if Rod Serling was standing behind me, waiting to cue the theme from the “Twilight Zone,” and suddenly realized that the Mike standing in front of me was wearing a red baseball cap (as I was, since we were both in the DivArty Aviation Section) while the Mike walking toward the ramp was wearing a black (Air Cav) baseball cap.

That was in 1976, and that was my introduction to Charlie O’Connor, Mike’s twin brother.

Imagine the consternation in their old unit in Vietnam. Generally, Army policy won’t place two siblings in the same combat outfit, but Charlie and Mike wangled billets in the same Assault Helicopter Company at the same time, agreeing, sensibly enough, that they wouldn’t fly CAs in the same aircraft. And probably agreeing that they wouldn't double-team anybody with their jokes.

I saw Mike every drill and most Night Flights, but usually only saw Charlie during AT or when I had a flight up to the Picatinny Facility. I saw him only sporadically after he left the Guard, but every so often I’d get the chance to pop into Teterboro to see how he was progressing up the corporate aviation ladder. And, of course, to cadge free coffee in the pilots’ lounge. And, of course, to hear his latest non-PC-and-definitely-not-suitable-for-mixed-company jokes.

Early last week I dropped in at my old unit and found that most of the gang had taken up new digs at Lakehurst. I ran into one of the OSACOM fixed-wing guys, though, and he brought me up to date on who was where and what the latest rumor was about their next deployment.

And he told me that Charlie had pancreatic cancer. And he’d started a site to raise funds for research, called – in typically blunt Charlie fashion – “Charlie O’Connor’s Pancreatic Cancer Sucks Site.”

I started scratching out this post yesterday, intending to put it in the Spirit of America category as a “Someone You Need To Meet” bit.

I should’ve done it sooner.

Charlie died on Valentine’s Day.

Oh – almost forgot. The reason I figured it for a great Spirit of America bit was that Charlie set a fundraising goal of $5,000.

He raised almost twice that. And that's why he's grinning that leprechaun grin on his site.

Heads' up, Fiddlers Green contingent -- Charlie likes Tullamore Dew with Guiness on the side...

Therefore, now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Someone you should know. Two of them, actually.

Two recently-passed survivors of "The Great Escape," from New Zealand and Australia.

This “Great Escape”, as it became known and popularized by the movie of the same name, was an incredible example of ingenuity and determination on the part of Allied airmen resolved to escape from a camp designed explicitly to prevent escape. Of the two hundred intended escapees, only 76 got away when the exit point of their tunnel was discovered by a guard who chose that exact spot to relieve himself while on roving patrol.. All but three of those who got out were recaptured and, of those 50 were shot by the Gestapo, at Hitler's direction.

Flight Lieutenant Michael Shand

Flight Lieutenant William Fordyce

I'd say "Make a hole there, Fliers inbound to Fiddler's Green!" except these two already know how to make a hole to get somewhere.

Therefore, now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

H/t, Murray.

Happy Valentine's Day, SWWBO!

This will obviously be up top all day. Everything else new is below this.

I don't forward chain letters.

But that doesn't mean some aren't worth sharing. And anyone who knows what the last year has been like for the Master and Mistress of Argghhh! will appreciate why this one resonates. I can really identify with the Old Man. At the KC RenFest I used to go take the mallet and ring the bell. Then one year I didn't do it. Couldn't do it. And that ruined my day.

The Old Man and the Dog by Catherine Moore

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me.

"Can't you do anything right?"

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark,
heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

The rest is in the Flash Traffic/Extended Entry

Okay - ya gotta watch this video.

It's an old buddy of mine, alla way back to high school. Preston Sights. Or, more aptly, Prestone Antifreeze.

He did the Polar Bear Plunge for Special Olympics in Missouri. In the video, he's the shirtless, odd-colored furry fella. The odd color is from his disguise. He went as The Hulk - which the Special Olympians thought was simply way cool.

You can read about the event here.

If you're moved to, you can donate, ex post facto, by clicking the link below. Hey - you *know* you got your money's worth, you've already seen him do it, right?

Heh. I should have put this up *before* the event, but I dunno, it just never occurred to me to do so. Prolly because Preston is normally such a private person.

Right click and "save as" here to see the video of the event.

Click here if you're moved to donate. Hey, $5, $500, it's all good. It would tickle me pink (which is a scary thought) if collectively we could bump "Prestone's" numbers to the $2K mark. As I write - only $999 to go - you can probably guess which donor I am. Tax deductible - start sheltering your money from the grasping fingers of Congress now.. well, at least spend it on projects *you'd* like to see it spent on, vice other people's pet projects they want Congress to bill you for.

Private First Class Ray Jacobs - someone you should know.

"...Marines on the ground, still engaged in combat, raised a spontaneous yell when they saw the flag. Screaming and cheering so loud and prolonged that we could hear it quite clearly on top of Suribachi..."

The first flagraising atop Mount Suribachi, February 23, 1945. Hank Hansen (without helmet), Boots Thomas (seated), John Bradley (behind Thomas) Phil Ward (hand visible grasping pole), Jim Michaels (with carbine) and Chuck Lindberg (behind Michaels). Photo by Lou Lowery. 10AM, Feb. 23, 1945

Remember the *1st* Iwo Jima flag raising? The one Joe Rosenthal *didn't* get a picture of? Nothing bad against Joe - he got the best one that day, no argument!

Private First Class Ray Jacobs was one of those flag-raisers. He didn't make it into the pictures. They were kind of busy, taking the island and all. They had other things on their mind, I'm guessing.

He died today.

The media hasn't noticed, yet. But we'll make sure they do.

So make a hole down there in Fiddler's Green! War hero, genuine, 1ea, Inbound

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance, In Memoriam.

A Gaelic Blessing.

Goodbye Aunt Elaine - cut a rug with Skeet and get that Grand Slam.

Love,

John

Another empty chair at the table.

My Dad, as is his wont, sent a very brief note.

Elaine died about 6 PM last night.
Dad

This has been a tough twelve months, especially for my father. Last night, his sister Elaine died. She was 90, and had, like my mother, a good life, well lived.

For some reason, this post came to mind, something I did for Easter two years ago.

She was a school teacher by trade, a professional mother, if you will. And while with me, her teaching didn't always take, she never stopped the lessons! She was trying to teach me to be polite until just about her dying breath.

It took more than she realized - you have no idea of what a ill-mannered buffoon I would be were it not for my Donovan relatives of that generation. My impishness comes from the Meriwether side. The steel is all Donovan, tempered by Meriwether.

I have many fond memories of Elaine and her husband Harold, better known as "Uncle Skeet." Heh. There's a good chance that my interest in ordnance stems from Skeet and Elaine. Of course, it's Dad's fault. At least I think so. When going to visit Aunt Elaine and Uncle Skeet I would home like a Maverick on the training hand grenade (that I assume Dad gave them) they had on their bookshelf, and would play with it (safely, of course). I'd also grab the history books on their shelves (they had more pictures than Dad's books) and flip through and read them - especially the American Heritage Civil War books. Skeet taught me to fish and appreciate the Colorado Rockies, clear mountain tarns and swift-running streams.

Skeet's been gone for many years now, and I'm guessing Elaine was ready to go join him, sure that her two daughters and their families were going to make it, and that her little brother was okay after the passing of his wife, my mother. I'm going to miss her, though not like Dad, methinks.

The music may be a little different, but now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, for Elaine Donovan Langford, Aunt Elaine.

A fallen warrrior.

One of those who was a double-warrior. A police officer and a military reservist. With a Castle connection - he was one of 1SG Keith's troops. What follows is from 1SG Keith. This post will remain up top all day. New content comes in below.

We lost one of our own today. Staff Sergeant Eric Barker, my broadcast section NCOIC, was killed in a shootout in Atlanta at 1240 am Wednesday morning. When not serving our country in the US Army Reserve, Barker was a Dekalb County Police Department officer. Last night, while working an off-duty detail with another officer, Barker and his partner were gunned down in an ambush.

Watching the news reports, I could see the little yellow evidence markers. A lot of them. I saw a number 57 on one. Hopefully they were marking more than just bullet casings. Barker was a good NCO and a very cool guy. He was always joking. We talked several times about family. He and his wife have 4 kids, the youngest of which is only 3 or 4. I'm sure they won't understand why Daddy's not coming home. They won't understand for a few years anyway. I hope they catch these guys. I hope they try to get away. I'm angry, as is everyone who knows Barker. I want revenge. I don't care if some panty-waisted liberal claims the perpetrators were disadvantaged youth- fact is, they killed two police officers; one of which was also a friend of mine.

I like what the Chief had to say during his many press conferences today: "Of all the avenues I've gone down as police chief, this one was the darkest, and the toughest hour I've ever had, because it was about nothing -- senseless... today's act of senseless violence is a display of what we're seeing around the country where people will shoot down a police officer without regard to any repercussions."

My respect for Chief Bolton doubled when I heard him say, "For those witnesses and those people that are here [at the apartment complex]: Don't lie to us. Tell us the truth....For to witness the life, the whole life, of a police officer, who represents us all, lie there on the asphalt in the middle of the night, leaving behind children -- and we're going to remain silent. I submit to you today, you're not my brother, you're not my sister if you go down that road."

Staff Sgt. Eric Barker is my brother, and he will be sorely missed.

Those we love
can never really leave us.
We feel their presence,
like a gentle touch,
whenever we remember
moments shared
and do again
the things they loved to do.
In so many ways,
they remain with us,
their gentle spirits part of
all we do and all we are.

May you find comfort in the gentle words, helping hands, and warm thoughts offered in loving sympathy.

Take care, Staff Sgt. Eric Barker. We will meet again someday on the other side.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance, In Memoriam.

Update: Click this link if you are unfamiliar with the backstory for this post. A suspect in the shootings has been apprehended.

A Prayer Bleg...

...for this young lady.

10 years ago today...

...I married SWWBO, and then got on an airplane to go to Kuwait for a sabre-rattling exercise.

Back then, she was a computer geek for Sprint or Birch Telecom, I don't remember which. Then she morphed into a computer geek for Cerner Corporation... then Cerner did her the favor of firing her for being too old for their young, hip, not-customer-service-focused workforce. Heh. It's bad when your mother is better at what you do than you are, isn't it kiddies? *Especially* when it comes to client interface?

No matter - now SWWBO is "Farmer Gurl!" and a budding photographess.

I've had *three* 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th anniversarys. I've only had one 7th, 8th, 9th, and now, 10th anniversary.

As SWWBO observed, it was Debbie's and Julie's job to keep me off the market until she was ready for me.

Good thing.

Og, this pic's for you, because I know you can't stand the sappy posts. But the subject of the sappy posts are what facilitates pictures like this...

Keep that in mind, boys and girls.

Luv ya, babe.

Update: Becuz' I *know* you're dying to know... what'd I get SWWBO for the anniversary? Well, it wasn't tin, or aluminum. No, actually I went back to the traditional 6th anniversary item, iron. A drag harrow. Hey, I'm the guy who got her a black rifle for Christmas, right?

Someone you should remember.

[Armorer's Updated Note: Rather than link to this post in today's H&I Fires, I decided to just repost it, because some of you don't click the links... yes, I know who you are. Co-blogger Bill is the original author of the post.]

I would like to introduce you to someone: CW2 Hugh Thompson. A fellow helicopter pilot from my war...

You probably don't recognize his name and you probably don't know what he did, but you will definitely recognize where and when he did it: My Lai, Vietnam--1968.

What would you call a man who saw his friends committing murder and risked his life to stop them?

Find out in the Flash Traffic/Extended entry.

Flash Traffic (extended entry) Follows �

From US News and World Reports, August 20, 2004:

Skimming over the Vietnamese village of My Lai in a helicopter with a bubble-shaped windshield, 24-year-old Hugh Thompson had a superb view of the ground below. But what the Army pilot saw didn't make any sense: piles of Vietnamese bodies and dead water buffalo. He and his two younger crew mates, Lawrence Colburn and Glenn Andreotta, were flying low over the hamlet on March 16, 1968, trying to draw fire so that two gunships flying above could locate and destroy the enemy. On this morning, no one was shooting at them. And yet they saw bodies everywhere, and the wounded civilians they had earlier marked for medical aid were now all dead.

On that historic morning, Thompson set his helicopter down near the irrigation ditch full of bodies. He asked a sergeant if the soldiers could help the civilians, some of whom were still moving. The sergeant suggested putting them out of their misery. Stunned, Thompson turned to Lieutenant Calley, who told him to mind his own business. Thompson reluctantly got back in his helicopter and began to lift off. Just then Andreotta yelled, "My God, they're firing into the ditch!"

Thompson finally faced the truth. He and his crew flew around for a few minutes, outraged, wondering what to do. Then they saw several elderly adults and children running for a shelter, chased by Americans. "We thought they had about 30 seconds before they'd die," recalls Colburn. Thompson landed his chopper between the troops and the shelter, then jumped out and confronted the lieutenant in charge of the chase. He asked for assistance in escorting the civilians out of the bunker; the lieutenant said he'd get them out with a hand grenade. Furious, Thompson announced he was taking the civilians out.

Thompson coaxed the Vietnamese out of the shelter with hand gestures. They followed, wary. Thompson looked at his three-man helicopter and realized he had nowhere to put them. "There was no thinking about it," he says now. "It was just something that had to be done, and it had to be done fast." He got on the radio and begged the gunships to land and fly the four adults and five children to safety, which they did within minutes.

Before returning to base, the helicopter crew saw something moving in the irrigation ditch�a child, about 4 years old. Andreotta waded through bloody cadavers to pull him out. Thompson, who had a son, was overcome by emotion. He immediately flew the child to a nearby hospital. Thompson wasted no time telling his superiors what had happened. "They said I was screaming quite loud. I was mad. I threatened never to fly again," Thompson remembers. "I didn't want to be a part of that. It wasn't war." An investigation followed, but it was cursory at best.

A month later, Andreotta died in combat. Thompson was shot down and returned home to teach helicopter piloting. Colburn served his tour of duty and left the military. The two figured those involved in the killing had been court-martialed. In fact, nothing had happened. But rumors of the massacre persisted. One soldier who heard of the atrocities, Ron Ridenhour, vowed to make them public. In the spring of 1969, he sent letters to government officials, which led to a real investigation�

Not all soldiers at My Lai participated in the carnage. Some men risked courtmartial or even death by defying Calley's direct orders to shoot civilians. Eckhardt doesn't think these men were heroes, because they didn't try to stop the murderers. But Colburn thinks they did the best they could. "We could just fly away at the end of the day," he notes. The ground troops had to live together for months.

Colburn and Thompson lived in relative anonymity until a 1989 television documentary on My Lai reclaimed them as forgotten heroes. David Egan, a Clemson University professor who had served in a French village where Nazis killed scores of innocents in World War II, was amazed by the story. He campaigned to have Thompson and his team awarded the coveted Soldier's Medal. It wasn't until March 6, 1998, after internal debate among Pentagon officials (who feared an award would reopen old wounds) and outside pressure from reporters, that Thompson and Colburn finally received medals in a ceremony at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

But both say a far more gratifying reward was a trip back to My Lai this March to dedicate a school and a "peace park." It was then they finally met a young man named Do Hoa, who they believe was the boy they rescued from that death-filled ditch. "Being reunited with the boy was just...I can't even describe it," says Colburn. And Thompson, also overwhelmed, doesn't even try.

Almost forty years ago, CW2 Hugh Thompson saw murder in the middle of a war and stopped it. Fewer than twenty hours ago, he died of cancer in the VA Hospital in Arlington, Virginia�

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance, In Memoriam.

To see the very tangible results of Chief Thompson's actions - click here.

If you want to learn more about Hugh Thompson - buy the book.

[First Time Visitors - you're welcome and encouraged to poke around in the corners. We try to run a fun place that does a little educating and maybe a nice rant or two. -Warning- This is a memorial post - discussion of the war and My Lai is inevitable - but we've got rules here - discuss the message, don't attack the messenger. Be polite. Others may feel it's bad form to delete comments, I have no such compunction. I won't delete ones I disagree with the content, I'll delete hair-tearing, shirt-rending rants that spew vileness at other people. Be polite (within the limits of a robust conversation, this isn't a graded debate)]

[thompson]
[vietnam]
[my lai]
[hero]

� Secure this line!

Reporting As Ordered, Sir! �

---

Inretelling the story of My Lai, this is the part that gets skipped. Someone had the decency to stand up and say it was wrong.

Both the military and our general history minded folks are wrong when they did this. Without this part of the story, there were no heroes and every Vietnam Veteran was tainted with its stink.

Without this part of the story, the military and many fine young men took away the moral that it was better to be quiet and take care of things "quietly". They did not learn that this was a lesson for all regarding the possible effects of war and bad leadership. nor learn the final lesson which is that, in an organization as big as the military, nothing will be a secret.

By hiding it, they killed the heroes just as much as any anti-war folks.

by kat-missouri on January 6, 2008 11:08 AM

---

"When they did this"...I mean, tried to cover up My Lai or using it as a battering ram against Vietnam and those who served.

by kat-missouri on January 6, 2008 11:12 AM

---

Real heroes never die, Chief. This man will forever live our memories. As an example of what a really righteous man is, instead of the tin plated imitators we run into on a daily basis. He will continue to be an example, an example a chucklehead like me needs right now, of how a real man does what needs to be done, what it means to be a stand up guy.

(And just to fling poo, 'cause I can, now why isn't this guy noted as the hero of My Lai instead of Sy Hersch(who swooped down like a vulture after Ridenhour did basically told everyone who would listen to him about it)? Incroiable.)

by ry on January 6, 2008 2:13 PM

---

John, Well done, Sir. Sadly to say, he was a very rare breed and COMMANDS our respect. This is the lesson of Nuremburg and Watergate, plausable deniability is not a viable defense. This man's heroic action should be drilled into the bone, even into the very marrow of that bone of every American combatant. This covers the whole range. Yes, this includes the contractors and the CIA.

Kat, when someone has said it perfectly, you don't add to it. I just want to say, "Thank you. I can not speak for the other vets."

I came from that era, coming up on 60. It is very hard to explain those times, but yet we must.

I noticed one day, John was making a comment on the "Global War on Terror." He crassed out the word, "Terror" and put in the word, "Whatever." I would suggest a new name, it would be "The Global War on Tyranny."

To the both of you, my THANKS!

Grumpy

by Grumpy on January 6, 2008 2:45 PM

---

*sigh*
I do remember the name, Bill. I remember it because you've written about him before, and with the passion I've come to love, and expect, from you. You're a "do the right thing" guy, just like Thompson.

I'm sure there's a special place in heaven for him right now.

by AFSister on January 6, 2008 9:21 PM

---

I forgot what I wrote the last time this was posted, so I'll start from zero, here and now. That fellow has an earnest visage. I rate being earnest very highly. He also displayed great moral courage, which is sadly much rarer than physical courage.

If more people had more moral courage, maybe we could get by without having to use the physical variety quite so much.

R.I.P., Sir.

P.s. Oh, he had the physical kind, too, going down to draw fire...

by Justthisguy on January 7, 2008 12:08 AM

---

� Dismissed, Soldier!

by John on Jan 06, 2008

Make way! Make Way! Make a hole there!

Milblogger inbound to Fiddler's Green...

DoD Identifies Army Casualties

The Department of Defense announced today the death of two soldiers who were supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom. They died Jan. 3 in As Sadiyah, Iraq, of wounds suffered when insurgents attacked their unit using small arms fire during combat operations. Both Soldiers were assigned to the Military Transition Team, 1st Brigade, 1st Infantry Division, Fort Riley, Kan.

Killed were:

Maj. Andrew J. Olmsted, 37, of Colorado Springs, Colo.

Cpt. Thomas J. Casey, 32, of Albuquerque, N.M.

For further information related to this release, contact Fort Riley public affairs at (785) 239-3410.

Major Andrew Olmstead. You owe it to yourself, and yes, Andy Olmstead, to click that link over there. This is why - and it's not the best part:

What I don't want this to be is a chance for me, or anyone else, to be maudlin. I'm dead. That sucks, at least for me and my family and friends. But all the tears in the world aren't going to bring me back, so I would prefer that people remember the good things about me rather than mourning my loss. (If it turns out a specific number of tears will, in fact, bring me back to life, then by all means, break out the onions.) I had a pretty good life, as I noted above. Sure, all things being equal I would have preferred to have more time, but I have no business complaining with all the good fortune I've enjoyed in my life. So if you're up for that, put on a little 80s music (preferably vintage 1980-1984), grab a Coke and have a drink with me. If you have it, throw 'Freedom Isn't Free' from the Team America soundtrack in; if you can't laugh at that song, I think you need to lighten up a little. I'm dead, but if you're reading this, you're not, so take a moment to enjoy that happy fact.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Update: Email I got in response to a note I sent out.

John, I read the whole piece on his website. Looks like the world is a bit poorer today. Just too bad. Jim

I say we are richer for knowing that we have such men and women who will strive for us, and for others.

And speaking of others, here are some others speaking of Andy:

James Joyner / Andrew Olmsted Killed in Iraq
Just A Grunt / To Honor Major Andrew Olmstead
Jim Henley / In Memoriam  —  I worry that my previous post was edgy.
Ampersand / G'Kar of Obsidian Wings, RIP
Redstate / The death of a co-blogger in Iraq
Billw / Iraq Blogger Major Andrew Olmsted Killed in Ambush
Phillip Carter / RIP, Andrew Olmsted
Rick Moran / ANDREW OLMSTED, R.I.P.
McQ / A BLOGGING FRIEND AND PATRIOT IS DEAD (UPDATED)
Brad DeLong / RIP Major Andrew Olmsted
Curt / Andrew Olmsted Has Died
Cernig / A Soldier And Blogger's Last post
Andy / A Sad Day in the Colorado Blogosphere
Confederate Yankee / A Blogger Dies at War
Noah Shachtman / Soldier-Blogger, RIP  —  Major Andrew Olmsted, a veteran Army officer …
Michael van der Galien / Blogger Dies in Iraq
Michael J. Totten / Andrew Olmsted Killed In Iraq
Stuart Benjamin / HEARTBREAKING POST: Andrew Olmsted, who blogged at Obsidian Wings …
TigerHawk /A blogger's legacy  —  The blogging soldier Andrew Olmsted …
Dave Schuler / Andrew Olmsted Killed in Iraq
Matttbastard / Andrew Olmsted
Chris Orr / The Death of a Soldier; I'm not sure whether I'd read …
Jesse Walker / Andrew “G'Kar” Olmsted, RIP
Mike / Tragedy  —  Andrew Olmsted, who was a friend to this site …
Lizardbreath / Andrew Olmsted  —  Olmsted was one of the posters at Obsidian Wings …
Tom Watson / A Blogging Soldier's Farewell
Spree / Andrew Olmsted-Soldier-Blogger- RIP
Alex Geana /A soldier speaks, from beyond the grave.
Alex Tabarrok / Sentences of Great Sadness
Virginia / In Memoriam: Andrew Olmsted
Simon / Blogger interviewed on Bloggasm has died in Iraq
David / Thunder Run - Blogger killed in Iraq.

2007 at Castle Argghhh!

It was a year of ups and downs.

It started with a huge down. My family pretty much spent the first two and a half months caring for my mother, who had lung cancer. Then, Mom died, and a huge door shut forever, becoming only a window on the past.

However, the closing of that door, opened the door that led to the Castle relocation, and the establishment of the Castle Argghhh! Range Complex, Animal Husbandry Center and Nature Preserve.

The blog brought me into national politics, at a policy level (in small ways, no play-maker here!)

Then came the Milblogger Conference, where I found out I have fans, even if they never comment or email... and discovered that we really *do* get read by the people we want to read us. But the gurls!

The year's shocker - I got invited, with a buncha other cool people... to meet the President.

Some people were not impressed, however. I think they just had blogger-envy.

Meanwhile, SWWBO got ANSWER'd! That was fun, mostly. The Gathering of Eagles rally was definitely fun.

A downer was when SWWBO got canned from Cerner. Ironically, she was let go two days after the quarterly meeting where she was recognized as being one of the people who had 100% satisfaction ratings from Cerner clients... but none of the people who are in her group, and still have jobs, made the cut. Seems she didn't fit well with the group. Heh. Oddly enough, she was also the oldest member of her group (though not the most highly compensated) and when she was going through the fruitless search for another job within Cerner, *every* interview had a question about how she felt about working with younger people and did she think she'd fit in... She won't sue. Too bad. I think we'd get a pretty penny for the Cerner Campus in North Kansas City. It would make a fine place for a museum of Stoopid Corporate Cultures. I can say this now, after having sat silent for years as Cerner fumbled it's way along, jumping from this HR fad to another as they cycled through upper level management... they produce a pretty good product, and they are the giant of their market - but they make money because they don't have any serious competition. If anyone poses a serious challenge, they are such a internal culture nightmare, they'll implode. It would be good for them. They need the kick in the butt.

Then, Blogworld Expo, out in Las Vegas. Where I met Kos himself, and found out I've got fans on the west coast... and that most of the people at the Expo don't pay any attention to the polibloggers or the milbloggers... they were there to learn how to make money on their blogs. Those were the well-attended seminars! But it was fun to move among the big names of the 'sphere and find out they know my name (though I doubt they're avid consumers of Castle content...).

Yeah, it's been a year of ups and down, but the ups helped counter the downs. The family is closer, you guys still show up, and more of you than before, pushing on to 3 million uniques (well, that's what Sitemeter says, anyway - the server logs say closer to 5).

What's not to like? The collection migrated from the old demesne to the new. I misunderestimated the rack space for the Arms Room, meaning I'm short on rack space... The Arms Room went from this, to this, and this...

I (and other people) can shoot from under cover off the back deck...

Life is good. Ups and downs. Like that whole "living in a world lit only by fire thing..." In truth, that was as much fun as PITA.

But Dad and Sis and her family are doing well. Prodigal Son Andy and his Significant Other Ashes are doing well. August graduated from college... SWWBO and I are feeling the mileage, but hey, who isn't, at this point in the Skein of Life?

Thanks for stopping by all these years. Or today, if this is your first visit.

Since I can't name you all, I won't name anyone so there are no hurt feelings (or they are at least evenly distributed). I read every email you send, and I manage to answer most of them. One plus side of not being a Really Big Blogger.

You make it worth the effort. More of you should comment, though. That's what makes it fun!

The Master and Mistress Argghhh!

[and those pesky fubar'd links are fixed]

A Christmas Story...

From Jules Crittenden, reproduced whole with permission. [You should read it anyway, Cassandra... 8^ ) ]

Christmas Story

Meet Capt. Southworth. Meet Ala’a. It’s not just their story. It’s a bit of a project. AP:

MAUSTON, Wis. (AP) — Capt. Scott Southworth knew he’d face violence, political strife and blistering heat when he was deployed to one of Baghdad’s most dangerous areas. But he didn’t expect Ala’a Eddeen.

Ala’a was 9 years old, strong of will but weak of body — he suffered from cerebral palsy and weighed just 55 pounds. He lived among about 20 kids with physical or mental disabilities at the Mother Teresa orphanage, under the care of nuns who preserved this small oasis in a dangerous place.

On Sept. 6, 2003, halfway through his 13-month deployment, Southworth and his military police unit paid a visit to the orphanage. They played and chatted with the children; Southworth was talking with one little girl when Ala’a dragged his body to the soldier’s side.

Black haired and brown eyed, Ala’a spoke to the 31-year-old American in the limited English he had learned from the sisters. He recalled the bombs that struck government buildings across the Tigris River.

“Bomb-Bing! Bomb-Bing!” Ala’a said, raising and lowering his fist.

“I’m here now. You’re fine,” the captain said.

Over the next 10 months, the unit returned to the orphanage again and again. The soldiers would race kids in their wheelchairs, sit them in Humvees and help the sisters feed them.

To Southworth, Ala’a was like a little brother. But Ala’a — who had longed for a soldier to rescue him — secretly began referring to Southworth as “Baba,” Arabic for “Daddy.”

MILWAUKEE (AP) — Having overcome great obstacles to adopt an Iraqi orphan with cerebral palsy, Scott Southworth is spearheading an effort to find families to care for another 21 disabled children from that unhappy land.

Soldiers found the boys in June in a government-run Baghdad orphanage, naked and emaciated on cement floors in their urine and feces. Swarms of flies covered some. Others were tied to the outside of their cribs.

“It was just gut wrenching,” Southworth said.

A soldier in the military police unit Southworth led in Iraq, Sgt. Kerry Otwaska, saw a television clip on the orphanage in June. Devastated, he called Southworth, who contacted another comrade, Lt. Sheree Gunderson.

All three had spent time visiting children at the Mother Teresa orphanage in Baghdad, and they recognized some of those boys in the television report — they had been moved to the government facility. Three of them have since died.

“Feeling sorry for them on our end isn’t enough,” Southworth said. “We need some action."

EDITOR'S NOTE _ Anyone interested in participating in the effort to care for these children can contact Scott Southworth at shsouth@mwt.net

H&I Fires 25 DEC 2007... Merry Christmas!

To all of our visitiors, with special emphasis to the Denizens and the long-time lurkers (may you periodically break cover and drop a comment!)

A look around the Castle's world at Christmas...

Bill checked in via the post below.

Dusty sends:

It's midnight in El Paso and I launch from here back to a regional hub this evening as part of the mad scramble that is Christmas at [a major cargo carrier]. Have NO idea where I'll be Christmas Day...probably relaunch that night. Anyway, being a real-life Santa is kinda fun. Picture of the sleigh cockpit attached.

Hope you and Beth's 2008 is the best yet and all the critters have a healthy and happy year, too.

My best to all the denizens--I'll be too busy to post anything for the next week or so.

Happy Holidays to all,

Dusty

Like Dusty, the Coast Guard Delivers...

So does the Navy - taking a little time out for some rescuing on the side.

071224-N-8594S-066 YOKOSUKA, Japan (Dec. 24, 2007) Lt. j.g. Steven T. Benefield helps open a gift to give to the children at the Shunko-gakuen orphanage. 25 sailors assigned to the amphibious command ship USS Blue Ridge (LCC 19) volunteered their time to go the local orphanage and share gifts and holiday spirit with the children. Blue Ridge is forward deployed to Yokosuka, Japan, and serves as the flagship for Commander U.S. 7th Fleet. U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Will L. Sweats

071223-N-2880M-085 PERSIAN GULF (Dec. 23, 2007) The last of seven shipwrecked survivors is escorted across the flight deck of the Nimitz-class nuclear-powered aircraft carrier USS Harry S. Truman (CVN 75) after being rescued at sea by two MH-60S Seahawk helicopters, assigned to the "Sea Knights" of Helicopter Sea Combat Squadron (HSC) 22 embarked aboard the fast combat support ship USNS Arctic (T-AOE 8). The mariners were recovered after their dhow sank in rough seas. Truman and Arctic are deployed to the Persian Gulf as part of the on-going rotation to support maritime security operations in the region. U. S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Joshua Moore

Some Marines mark the holiday at sea...

ABOARD USS TARAWA (Dec. 24, 2007) — Gunnery Sgt. Christian Bull, squadron gunnery sergeant, Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 166 (Reinforced), calls for a Marine to come pick a care package sent by members of the unit’s Key Volunteer Network back home during a Christmas Eve party in the Tarawa’s hangar bay. HMM-166 (REIN) is from Marine Corps Air Station Miramar, Can Diego, Calif., and is the MEU’s aviation combat element. The 11th MEU (SOC), Camp Pendleton, Calif., is embarked aboard the Tarawa and other ships of the Tarawa Expeditionary Strike Group. They have been at sea since leaving San Diego Nov. 4 on a scheduled six-month deployment through the Western Pacific Ocean and Arabian Gulf regions. (Official U.S. Marine Corps photo by Sgt. Bryson K. Jones)

In Iraq, the Army doesn't let the holiday go unobserved...

Holiday Spirit Photo by Sgt. Brandon Little
December 21, 2007: 1st Lt. Adam Samiof, Camp Taji, Iraq, helps fellow Soldiers decorate a tree for the holidays.

The USAF goes the extra mile - literally, to bring home some holiday cheer...

Children gather around Santa Claus at the Hogar San Antonio de Padua Orphanage in Comayagua, Honduras. Operation Christmas Wish is an annual trip made by Airmen from the 1st Special Operations Wing who deliver more than 9,000 lbs of Christmas packages to hundreds of Honduran orphans. Santa is Tech. Sgt. Norman Padilla Cruz from the 1st Special Operations Aeromedical Squadron. (U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman Stephanie Jacobs)

The more things change...

Holiday Spirit: December 21, 2007 Servicemembers at Camp Buehring, Kuwait, celebrate the holidays. For a larger pic of those soldiers, sailors - and a coalition troop or two - click here.

...some things are still timeless.

Sitting around a miniature Christmas tree and opening a Christmas package are (front row, left to right) S/Sgt. John F. Suchanek; and Pfc. Joseph G. Pierro; and (back row) Sgt. Charles M. Myrich; and Sgt. Leon L. Oben. All are members of F. A. Bn., 3rd Div. Pietramelara, Italy. December 16, 1943.

Merry Christmas everybody from all of us who reside at Castle Argghhh!... and hopefully most of you are reading this late in the day, or after Christmas. Today is a day for flesh and blood, if you can - not electrons! -the Armorer

**********************************

Damn damn damn damn.

Triticale has passed.

I *hate* that the power outage caused us to miss this.

Trit was a fascinating man. An early reader and frequent commenter at the Castle, he drifted from commenting here and moved into SWWBO's blog, as my focus shifted away somewhat from guns and more to things military and political.

When SWWBO started Carnival of the Recipes (the longest-running Carnival on the 'net, I wonder how many people remember it was SWWBO's idea?) he submitted a recipe for... dog.

That caused some consternation at the Castle, I can tell ya. But Triticale was nothing if not a practical man, and his own man. As astute man.

Not as polished as Will Rogers, perhaps, but he had that same eye for puncturing pomposity with a simple observation.

He'll be missed here, too.

The music is a little different, but now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, for Triticale, the Wheat and Rye Guy.

Siyonara, Yujiro-san.

Yujiro Shidara. Born: 13.01.1972. Died: 09.12.2007. He was a man who was friends to many but the enemy of no-one. He is survived by his wife, Emiko, their one month old daughter, Momo, his mother (Kimiyo), father, sister, and elder brother (Kojiro). He is still my friend. He ever was and will ever be thus.

He died being a dutiful son. He was driving his mother to O’Hare airport so she could fly back to Yokohama after helping out with the newborn, Momo-chan. He had his ‘night in the ditch’, and upon climbing back up the embankment to talk to what he believed were the police he was hit and killed by a teenage driver---driving too fast for freezing rain conditions, for his experience level---who hit the same slush that spilled Yuji-san into the ditch. He was a better man than I.

A quiet, patient, and beyond the norm (even for Japanese) polite man. In the 3 years I’ve known him I never once heard him raise his voice to anyone. He was quick to laughter and smiles. He blinked a lot. Highly inquisitive and rarely offended by what he found. A good friend who loved to have far ranging conversations on a multitude of topics, and prone to responding to information he was given with earnest wonderment of it. A trait that is a requirement to be a scientist’s scientist, that few have, and he had in never ending abundance.

Yujiro, like many Japanese I know who have come to the US to study, worked long and hard to earn the financial freedom to have the opportunity to follow his passions instead of simply earning a living. He worked 8 long years in Japan as a dentist before he came to Purdue to become a professional biologist. He was, quite simply, brilliant. Yujiro was hard working, efficient, and skilled. He would begin working at 5am in the lab and wouldn’t leave until well after 5pm. Day in and day out, like clock work, he got the job done, living his dream.

Yujiro met Emiko while they both were in college (daigaku), fell in love, and lived the fairytale most couples wished they could achieve. They both studied dentistry and both are certified dentists in Japan. They married in Japan long before coming to the States. They looked forward to coming here. With the closing of their practice in Japan they now had the time along with the means to finally start a family.

They were happy here before Momo-chan arrived, extremely. When Momo did arrive they were ecstatic--- I’ve never seen a happier, and perplexed, father nor a more radiant expectant mother. Yujiro sought to break with tradition in Japan: he would be imminently involved with feeding, diapering, taking care of fussy baby, the whole nine-yards (and in typical Yujiro-fashion more like the entire football field instead of just the nine.). The phrase ‘he was a good husband’ fails to come close to what Yuji-san was. He was an example of what most husbands could and should be.

Siyonara, Yujiro-san. Jess and I shall miss you. You lived well, an example to all of us who knew you.
Ryan.

The music may be a little different, but now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, for Yujiro Shidara.

Several Someones You Should Know

This could go in H&I Fires above, but this is one you really don't want to miss. "Inspiring" doesn't even BEGIN to cover it...

The "Someones" are an entire family--two sons (one fallen), a 60-year-old father inspired by his son(s), and a mother-wife with devotion, perspective and courage that should be an example to us all. CDR Salamander writes:

How do you define sacrifice? How do you respond to loss? How do you focus pride, grief, love and honor? Do you try to take positive action in the face of a horror you never expected to face? Can you go beyond the emotional and tap into the intellectual? ...I ask you to step back , absorb, and most of all - be humble.

Be sure to see comments at Salamander's link for the story of the surviving brother.

We've had other stories of courageous response to loss similar to this one... but the response of this entire family is in a league of its own. You will not be sorry for clicking through.

Sticky post for the holiday.

If you've been to a sandbox, are going to a sandbox, or are *in* a sandbox - this post's for you.

And, in truth - if you've served, this post's for you.

And I, in addition to that - give thanks to those of you who support we who have, are, and will serve. Especially those of you who keep an eye on the ones that get left behind when the wars aren't so hot...

Giving Thanks...

Even though I lost my mother this year, with the closing of that door came the opening of another. Thanks to Mom, SWWBO and I can take walks down this little road.

Which isn't a road, really. It's the bed of the creek moat that runs at the base of the motte upon which rests the new Castle. At this point it runs along the top of the soft shales that underlay the area. We'll never have to buy another flagstone.

We have a place where the Exterior Guard can go snoop in other critter's homes along the creek.

Where we have views like this.

A year where the rest of the family has remained pretty healthy, and we all grew closer helping Mom make her passage to the next stage of her existence.

We've had reason to get closer to son Andy and his gurl, Ashes.

We got to meet a President. We influenced, in minor ways, policy, for Veterans, for Warriors, and we've been involved in helping the Stories Untold, get told.

We've helped provide adaptive laptops for warriors who need them. In non-blogging endeavors, we've helped the homeless, the hungry, the shut-in. We've helped with literacy at home and abroad. We've helped organize events to bring the community together.

The blog has expanded our professional horizons, too, creating windows of opportunity that beckon for exploitation.

We've suffered the barbs of age discrimination - and lost a source of income as a result... but through that, too, was a door opened. This time for SWWBO. who gets to indulge a dream, aided again by Mom, who's influence is still felt, and whose absence still leaves a huge hole.

We lost a puppy, but rescued another.

But much of what has gone right this year is due to those of you who find this a congenial place to hang out, and worthy of returning to, despite it's admittedly creaky infrastructure. Those who post, those who comment, and those who lurk.

And for that, too, we are thankful.

An unread blog is a terrible thing. But readers... well, readers make it worth coming back to.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

Update: I just put 20 rounds downrange from my No.4Mk1(T) (less the (T), actually). Something else to be thankful for. Grab the rifle, the box of Sellier & Bellot .303 ammo, and step out the back. Load, lock, fire. 20 times. Police the brass. Walk back in. Clean the rifle. Rack it.

Time expended... including prep and travel? 30 minutes. Ahhhhh. Now *that's* something to be thankful for, in addition to all the good stuff already mentioned...

As we're speaking of Canada today.

This seems appropriate to mark, as well. Canadian forces lost two more soldiers last week.

Prime Minister Harper issued a statement of condolence Saturday. "These are all exceptional Canadians who deserve the gratitude and respect of this nation," he said. "The actions of these brave soldiers have brought hope to the Afghan people."

Two Canadian soldiers and their Afghan interpreter were killed when their vehicle hit a mine early Saturday morning, about 40 klicks west of Kandahar.

The Canadian dead are Corporal. Nicolas Raymond Beauchamp, 28, of the 5th Field Ambulance in Valcartier (right, below), and Private. Michel Levesque, 25, of the 3rd battalion of the Royal 22nd Regiment, also in Valcartier (left, below).

You can read the whole story here, at the National Post.

Make a hole there, Canadians coming through to Fiddler's Green!

Therefore, now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Greater Love.

The Bible tells us that "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." (John 15.13, King James (my fave) version)

True enough.

Most of the time I read that, and I, like I expect most of you, cast it in terms of heroic actions in terms of war, disaster, and other, singular events. That's the only way I can remember having seen the phrase used. Up until this post, it's the only way I've used it.

Just goes to show how narrow my thinking can be at times, canalized by what I chose to do for a living.

Because there is another, arguably harder path to choose. Where one has to make the choice of a similar sacrifice every.single.day. Especially in a pop culture that promotes and values self-absorbtion as ours does.

I remember that day in the summer of '68 when we got the telegram that Dad couldn't stop the Army from sending because he arrived at the field hospital unconscious (he stopped 4 others that long year). Mom stood paralyzed at the door. I had to take the thing and read it.

It said Dad was wounded but not seriously wounded. It helpfully noted the helicopter did not crash and burn.

In our case, they were right. In *this* case, they were not.

Meet Flora and Johnny Brooks. Yeah, Brava! for this woman. Indeed. Greater love has no person than they give their life, for another.

From SanLuisObispo.com:

The military telegram arrives, and a marriage is forever changed.

By JULIET WILLIAMS
Associated Press Writer

STOCKTON, Calif. --The telegram arrived on Nov. 15, 1969: "Private First Class Johnny O Brooks was slightly wounded in action," it began.

Flora Brooks, 20 and recently married, read on, not knowing then how much her life was about to change.

"Since he is not, repeat not seriously injured, no further reports will be furnished," the telegram concluded.

The couple would grow old together, but not in the way either had envisioned.

There would be no children, no exotic vacations, not even the simple fishing jaunts they had enjoyed before Johnny Brooks was drafted into the Army and sent to Vietnam.

He returned home without a leg and would soon lose the other, along with his ability to speak and the use of his arms.

Nearly 40 years later, Flora Brooks continues to serve as nursemaid and constant companion to a husband who is confined to a bed, unable to talk or move on his own.

Read the rest here. And you should read the rest. H/t, Kevin.

Veteran's Day, 2007

Today is my day. Today is SWWBO's day. Today is my Dad's day. Today is Dusty's day. Today is Bill's day. Neffi's, Bloodspite's, Sanger's, Jim B's, Mike L's, Jim C's, John S', V29's, Sergeant B's, 1SG Keith's, Oldloadr's, 74's, CAPT H's, a certain Canadian Gunner who shall remain nameless, a certain Redleg Captain who shall remain nameless, MajMike's, the 'Phibian's, Lex's, Matty's, Chuck's, the list is endless, and I know I didn't list everybody - feel free to add yourself in the comments. That would be a nice touch, actually.

But, even though it grew from Armistice Day, and is Remembrance Day to our Anglosphere buddies, it is *not* my Grandfather's day. Daddy Jack, a soldier of the Great War, well, his day now is Memorial Day.

Today we celebrate the living. The survivors. We honor the dead in May. Except today we Veterans honor the dead, too. We can't help it. The bonds of combat soldiery are tightest because of those who went with us but didn't come back, they took the low road while we took the high. Most of us have an "absent companion" or four that we drink to, when the time is right. Today it will be right. I have 17 19 that I will drink to. 17 little shots of tequila. Actually, I won't do it tonight when I get home, either. I spread 'em out between Veteran's Day and Memorial Day. My father doesn't even try. If he toasted all his ghosts, his liver would rip itself out of his belly and run. I rather expect Bill has a similar problem.

I honor my two favorite veterans: SWWBO, and my Father. The rest of you can take your positions after that. I honor my two favorite people who sweated out what their veterans were off doing: Mom and my sister. Well, this year Mom moved to the Memorial Day slot, dammit.

Last year, I was in the Leavenworth Veteran's Day parade. This year, the demands of work won't allow that. S'okay.

We have bonds, we veterans. Bonds that sometimes our closest family don't understand. Why does Grampa Joe keep bailing that wino out of trouble? Because that wino lost two fingers tossing a grenade out of a two-man fighting position during the a vicious night fight on Guadalcanal, that's why. Because that stranger that Dad greets like a long lost brother once a year is, in fact, a long lost brother, who shared the exhilaration of the night combat drop on Point Salines. Because the quiet guy you've never seen before extracted your Dad's best friend's body from a helicopter crash in Mogadishu by cutting off his legs - so that no man would be left behind. Because that guy over there negotiated with Aideed to get the legs back.

Because that woman sitting at the table comforted many of your grandfather's friends as they lay dying, the last thing they ever saw, or heard. Because that janitor in your school spent a long night on LZ X-Ray, cut off from his unit, keeping his squadmates alive. Because that Bank President looking at ties over there drove an AMTRAC across the reef at Tarawa under a withering fire so your uncle wouldn't have to slog in on foot, fighting both the sea and the Japanese. That man in Lions with your great-uncle? Your uncle helped him walk out from the Frozen Chosin.

Because that man serving turkey at the shelter helped Uncle Bob deal with Esther's "Dear John" letter, that arrived right before "Big Push." And him, that guy playing with his grandkids, who always seems to have some candy for you... well, he's a Glow-worm, a fighter pilot who jumped from a burning aircraft after he lost that dogfight with the Bf-109, and spent the rest of the war in a POW camp - and survived the forced marches to the west, as the germans were falling back from the onslaught of the Red Army. His buddy? The wingman whose 'six' was being covered. We are also a maudlin, sentimental group. We honor ALL of our veterans. Especially the ones who didn't really volunteer, but would and did give their lives freely for their brothers in arms, too.

We have the bond of shared experiences, whether it's Basic, Jump School, the JRTC, Graf, Pahakuloa, Camp Red Cloud, Hof, Okinawa, Tay Ninh, Vung Tau, Suwon, Phenix City, El Paso, Biloxi, FOB Speicher, Fallujah, Al Anbar, the convoys across the Atlantic, storming over a beach, busting bunkers, hunkering under artillery, rescuing families caught in the middle, finding that cask of cognac and... and the list goes on and on and on. And your newest veterans - they will have their traumas, too.

I am proud of my place among you, you men and women who simply did their duty. Who didn't run. Who came when asked. I am among giants. But my thoughts will be with the newest wave of veterans.

by Spc. Nathan Hoskins November 8, 2006
Pvt. Michelle Young, Pvt. Zachary Smith and Spc. Courtney Brenton from 3rd Battalion, 227th Aviation Regiment, 1st Air Cavalry Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division, beautify Dining Facility 1 at Camp Buehring, Kuwait. Paintings like this one are found throughout the camp. This photo appeared on www.army.mil.

The Republic is well served. Well served indeed. And as long as we find men and women willing to do the hard, dirty work - there will be a Republic.

As the Marines say, "Semper Fidelis"

Update: Google finally finds an artist willing to do the drawing. Good on 'em. Now to see if they can find Memorial Day on the calendar!

Remembrance Day 2007

We have not fought most of our wars this last hundred years alone. And other nations, other armies, with whom we have much in common also honor the living and remember their dead. I have a significant Canadian readership. So, I honor our Canadian and Commonwealth brothers, who shed blood with us in Afghanistan, and sadly, a good chunk of it was shed by us... so it's only fitting.

Usually around Christmas you see the poems about the American soldier and his sacrifices. The Canadians have one too.

Who Is He

He is profane and irreverent, living as he does in a world full of capriciousness, frustration and disillusionment. He is perhaps the best-educated of his kind in history, but will rarely accord respect on the basis of mere degrees or titles.

He speaks his own dialect, often incomprehensible to the layman. He can be cold, cruel, even brutal and is frequently insensitive. Killing is his profession and he strives very hard to become even more skilled at it.

His model is the grey, muddy, hard-eyed slayer who took the untakeable at Vimy Ridge, endured the unendurable in the Scheldt and held the unholdable at Kapyong.

He is a superlative practical diplomat; his efforts have brought peace to countless countries around the world. He is capable of astonishing acts of kindness, warmth and generosity. He will give you his last sip of water on a parched day and his last food to a hungry child; he will give his very life for the society he loves. Danger and horror are his familiars and his sense of humour is accordingly sardonic. What the unknowing take as callousness is his defence against the unimaginable; he whistles through a career filled with graveyards.

His ethos is one of self-sacrifice and duty. He is sinfully proud of himself, of his unit and of his countryand he is unique in that his commitment to his society is Total. No other trade or profession dreams of demanding such of its members
and none could successfully try.

He loves his family dearly, sees them all too rarely and as often as not loses them to the demands of his profession. Loneliness is the price he accepts for the privilege of serving. He accounts discomfort as routine and the search for personal gain as beneath him; he has neither understanding of nor patience
for those motivated by self-interest, politics or money.

His loyalty can be absolute, but it must be purchased. Paradoxically, the only coin accepted for that payment is also loyalty. He devours life with big bites, knowing that each bite might be his last and his manners suffer thereby. He would rather die regretting the things he did than the ones he dared not try. He earns a good wage by most standards and, given the demands on him, is woefully underpaid.

He can be arrogant, thoughtless and conceited, but will spend himself, sacrifice everything for total strangers in places he cannot even pronounce. He considers political correctness a podium for self-righteous fools, but will die fighting for the rights of anyone he respects or pities.

He is a philosopher and a drudge, an assassin and a philanthropist, a servant and a leader, a disputer and a mediator, a Nobel Laureate peacekeeper and the Queen's Hitman, a brawler and a healer, best friend and worst enemy. He is a rock, a goat, a fool, a sage, a drunk, a provider, a cynic and a romantic dreamer. Above it all, he is a hero for our time.

You, pale stranger, sleep well at night only because he exists for you, the citizen who has never met him, has perhaps never thought of him and may even despise him. He is both your child and your guardian. His devotion to you is unwavering.

He is a Canadian Soldier.

Hell, he's any soldier of a true democracy. And he too is one of my brothers-in-arms.

A worthy cartoon. H/t, Barb of Righty in a Lefty State.
H/t to CAPT H for the Canadian input. A nod to Sheldon P (1 PPCLI) and Jim Cope (USA, ret'd) for the link to Remember.

Last, but not least, great props to the National Steel Car Company of Canada. From Nicholas Russon, Brigadier of the Red Ensign Brigade:

I just visited the National Steel Car website (a Hamilton-based railway freight car manufacturer) . I will be linking to their site on November 11th. If you have a moment, visit http://www.steelcar .com/ and look at the pages for "In Memoriam" and "Remembrance Day, 2007".

I can't recall the last time I saw such a respectful salute to the veterans and the serving troops on a corporate website (and one, so far as I know, that doesn't particularly depend on government or military contracts, so it doesn't appear to be just pandering . . . it seems heartfelt). I've sent an email to them, thanking them for putting this material on their website.

Regards,
Nicholas
Brigadier, Red Ensign Brigade

I visited. You should too. And I don't think it's a mistake that photos of US troops are included in their memorial video.

For What It's Worth...

...you've seen me give hat-tip credit for the atrocious puns and oddball jokes with which V29 and Doc E bombard me (thereby reinforcing my rep as a real stand-up, albeit strait-laced, individual) and you've "met" V29 via his semifrequent comments and the TINS Times Two we tag-teamed on a while back.

So, I figger it's time to introduce Doc E.

He's the guy on the left who forgot his sunblock. And, yes, he really *is* a doctor (even though he's never played one on TV), or, more precisely, he's now a *retired* doctor. But he prefers playing with his 'puter to playing with golf sticks -- he's a hi-tech hobbyist who's translated some of his pix from the Ol' Days into some YouTube vids, and I think you'll find his most recent effort a bit thought-provoking.

I'll link it after this caveat: although the pix and music are work-safe, there's a picture at the 6:35 mark you might want to view alone, or forego viewing altogether.

It's a shot of one of our cockpits after a typical day suddenly became a really bad one. The pilot was from my platoon.

It's a reminder that there's a price tag on freedom.

And so long as we would have freedom, there will be a price upon it, and so long as there is a price, there must be those willing to give what is asked, or we will no longer have freedom. Now transfer the image of that Huey cockpit to the interior of a Hummer or a sandbag checkpoint...

We're a fortunate people to have among us those who have given what was asked. We have the freedom for which they have paid -- and continue to pay.

It's only fair that we return them something in the way of repayment, isn't it?

Valour-IT: for what it's worth...

2007 Valour-IT Fundraising Competition

[FbL here. The Armorer is winging his way across the country, so I have fearlessly stepped in. I'll let you know if I survive the Evil Eye for doing so. Update: The donation totals in the widgets are not tracking correctly, but donations are still being received and credited in PayPal. We hope to have the bug fixed soon.(Bumping this back up top where it belongs.--ry)] [Bumping it back down to where it was, cuz I did something new - the Armorer]

It's that time again.

What time?

Time for ruthless competition, endless inter-service snarkage, and constant meter-watching. Oh, and we raise some money for a good cause, too!

It's the 2007 Valour-IT Veterans Day Fundraising Competition, the yearly slugfest where milbloggers and friends compete to see who can get to the fundraising goal first. Last year our merry band raised over $230,000 dollars. This year, need among the wounded hasn't changed, with as many as 100 laptops going out each month. But every year, the amazing bloggers who participated have exceeded Valour-IT's wildest hopes. Let's do it again!

Here's the who, what, where, when, why and how of the competition:

Who: Bloggers of any and all stripes who support the U.S. Military
What: Raising $240,000 ($60,000/team) for Project Valour-IT, the non-profit Soldiers' Angels program that helps supply voice-controlled and other adapted laptops to severely-wounded troops.
Where: Starting on the blogs, then spreading through your community and into major media
When: Monday, 29 October through Saturday, 11 November (Veterans Day)
Why: Because reconnecting the wounded with the world is a vital part of their recovery
How: Signing up, blogging, auctioning, emailing, and just generally spreading the news

For more info, see the important competition websites listed below.

Team Leaders: Blackfive - Army, Chaotic Synaptic Activity - Navy/Coast Guard, Mudville Gazette - Air Force, SA Holly Aho - Marine Corps

Official Website: history and background on Valour-IT, official donation info
Bulletin Board: general competition info, tech help, team planning, announcements, etc.
Auction Site: donated items for sale
Project Blog: background, interesting links, daily donation tracking, public relations

Let's make this happen! There are wounded men and women who need us, and to whom we owe so much.

So, what're ya waitin' for?! Need inspiration? Check "Selected Valour-IT Posts" in my sidebar or click on the "Valour-IT" category below that and at the bottom of this post.

Though I myself am on the Marine Corps team, I'm guessing the Armorer would prefer I post the following (besides, you doggies have some catching up to do! *grin*):

UPDATE: The widget that was here earlier has been giving as fits, so we changed over to a new one. Unfortunately, the new one only works in the sidebar and I don't have permission to change the sidebar. But you can go here to donate to the team of your choice.

Collateral Damage

No one's lost and no one's missing
No more parting, just hugs and kissing
And all these stars are just for wishing
In my heaven....

"Not in front of the children." That's a phrase most of us associate with bitter marital feuds, a reminder that children are often frightened or hurt when adults lose control of their emotions; that little eyes and ears see and hear more than we think they do.

That harsh words, spoken in the heat of anger, can leave ugly scars.

It's a pity so few of the participants in our often fractured debate on the war spare a thought for its smallest victims:

CamerynLee was only 3 years old when her father, Lance Cpl. Eric J. Orlowski, a Marine Corps reservist, was killed in an accidental shooting during the first days of the Iraq war. Now 8, she is suddenly hungry for information about the man she remembers only in sketchy vignettes: Did he like chicken wings as much as she does? How about hockey? Was he funny?

In a grim marker of the longevity of the war, children who were infants or toddlers when they lost a parent in action are growing up. In the process, they are coming to grips with death in new, more mature and at times more painful ways — pondering a parent they barely knew, asking pointed questions about the circumstances of the death and experiencing a kind of delayed grief.

Families and bereavement counselors say that media coverage of the war, dedication ceremonies and even school events — in which most classmates have both parents in attendance — can all heighten yearning for the missing parent. For young children, the flood of prickly feelings and questions often arises just as the surviving parent is moving beyond his or her own intense grief, sometimes with a new spouse or partner in the picture.

In prior wars, children of soldiers and Marines killed in action would have medals, stacks of letters, perhaps a few photographs or, if they were very lucky, a faded clipping from the local newspaper to help keep the memory of a lost loved one alive. To such meager artifacts would be added endless quiet recountings of birthdays, vacations, holidays and the thousand shared moments - trivial, poignant, or hilarious - that make each family happy in its own unique way.

But the children of today's fallen warriors are growing up in a digital age, surrounded by often disturbing images and multimedia Is it too much to ask that when these smallest Americans look for traces of their missing fathers or mothers, the first image to spring to their minds should comfort, and not horrify?

One by one, the children of war are growing up. They are learning to read, to take an interest in the world around them, to follow politics and the nightly news. They surf the Internet. And what they find as they explore their increasingly divided nation should disturb and shame all of us. For instead of discovering that the world is in capable hands, they are finding a nation of self-absorbed, petulant children in grown-up clothing, squabbling and tearing at each other and eroding the very underpinnings of civil society with no conception of how our actions impact those who depend on us.

The media demand the right to film the dead, grievously wounded, and the dying, though such stunningly insensitive and dehumanizing behavior goes against the very civilized norms they hold up as a mirror to the Bush administration. Indeed, the oft-cited Geneva convention forbids the photographing of detainees. to protect them from threats or acts of violence. But this prohibition is also intended to protect their honor and dignity against the dehumanizing public curiosity, insults, and abuse of which our species is unfortunately all too capable. Oddly, though the media regularly use the Geneva 'humane treatment' standard as a stick with which to beat the administration about the head and shoulders, they appear singularly reluctant to submit to that standard themselves.

A point seldom made is that the media itself violated international norms of civilized behavior when it literally drenched a salivating world in lurid images of Abu Ghuraib.
Was it really necessary, to show those images over and over at that frequency and intensity to get the story told? Or were the press indulging a prurient desire to pander to the lowest common denominator? Did they consider how offensive such images would be to a society that values honor and dignity far more highly than we do here in the West; one that considers the loss of "honor" in a young unmarried woman, for instance, such a unremediable shame that her male relatives have no recourse but to kill her?

Of course they didn't. There was money to be made, and ratings to be considered. Neither do they consider how humiliating and dehumanizing it would be for an American soldier or Marine to be videotaped rolling on the ground in agony just after his leg had been blown off, or (God forbid) crying in his sleep. Such moments make for great television: they represent the gritty reality of war. And if the children happen to be watching as Daddy gasps out his last breath on national TV, well, where was Mommy?

This time, we lose a thread in the woof of the fabric of the Greatest Generation.

Lightning rarely strikes twice in the same place this close together.

Two weeks ago, longtime buddy, regular reader, and frequent commenter Mike Lehnherr lost his father.

Today, he lost his mother, who just needed to be with her Elden and her God.

The music may be a little different, but now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam, for Miriam Lehnherr, Mike's mom

As Mike is wont to say, Kyrie Eleison.

Welcome Home, Sergeant Major

Retired U.S. Army Sgt. Maj. Brian Waters, formerly assigned to the 101st Airborne Division, is overcome with emotion as he visits The Moving Wall at Fort Concho National Historic Landmark in San Angelo, Texas, Oct. 12, 2007. The traveling, half-size replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was built by veterans to bring the experience of the memorial to those who cannot travel to Washington, D.C., and has been touring the country for more than twenty years. DoD photo by Staff Sgt. Angela B. Malek, U.S.Air Force. (Released)

Recovery of a Soldier-athlete

Thought this deserved more than a link in H&I Fires, and considering my recent lack of posts have driven my site into absolute obscurity, I figured it wouldn't get much exposure over there... - FbL

Sam Eifling of ESPN Outdoors has written an excellent profile of J.R. Salzman.

Most of us know J.R. as a wounded soldier. Some of us also know the barest outline of his athletic history--something about being a lumberjack and winning a number of awards in "Outdoor Sports." But in sympathetic writing and powerful pictures, Eifling lays out the history and traces J.R.'s progress from professional athlete to soldier, to wounded veteran reclaiming an athletic life.

The extensive collection of personal and ESPN photographs linked with the story speak volumes, a story in themselves... be sure to read the captions.

This is a must-read, must-see.

Note: the ESPN server seems to be hiccuping a lot today. If a picture fails to load, a right-click refresh/reload seems to do the trick.

[Cross-posted at Fuzzilicious Thinking]

Another thread in the warp of the fabric of the Greatest Generation parts...

The flags will go to half-staff at the Castle later next week, for there has been a death in the family of Castle Argghhh! Not my direct family, nor SWWBO's, but my boon companion Mike Lehnherr, a dedicated reader, occasional content provider, grammar consultant and commenter, his father passed yesterday.

I don't know a lot about Mike's Dad and Mom - but I know Mike, and I know that even though his Dad was not his biological father... there is no doubt as to whom his Dad was.

And by knowing Mike, I know his Mom and Dad did at least one thing right in their lives.

So bow your head for the passage of yet another of the "Greatest Generation" and give thanks for what they passed on - in spirit, and in flesh.

Make a hole down there, inbound to the Stammtisch at Fiddler's Green!

Sergeant (made it three times, he did!) Elden D. Lehnherr, U.S. Army, arriving.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

The Arsenal in Motion.

Construction proceeds apace, with painting finished yesterday, carpeting going in today, satellite TV going in today, and Internet access next week (when I'll be gone on the road, anyway), hence why blogging by me is sporadic, despite all the stuff going on.

If the schedule holds, the cabinets will go in tomorrow, and the seals will be in place on Friday.

Accordingly, the Arsenal is in motion, changing from one site to the other, via different routes and at different times, natch. Not for nothing did I take those counter-terrorism classes with the driving lessons!

For those who want to figure out what's in there - click here.

Notice Sergeant Barnacle keeping a [glowing] eye on things. Or izzat a BCR Labs Special Patrol 'Bot? You'll never know... until it's too late!

Rather than risk the H&I again today...

...I'll just make what got blown away twice yesterday a post!

First up... neener neener neener to most of you (though there are some who no doubt have views just as kewl or kewler...)

This is the view from the bedroom doors in the morning, out here at the Castle.

For those so inclined, a larger pic can be had here.

This last weekend was spent mostly in the barn, though there was some outside work, with SWWBO pulling fenceposts and learning to use the tractor.

The reason for all this is that the Destriers of Argghhh!, who have lived the last 10 years in the old Quartermaster Stables at Fort Leavenworth, were due at the new demesne on Sunday, lest we have to pay for another month... Good trade for them. They're going into larger stalls, and instead of getting to go to a 3 acre pasture with 30 other horses every other day... they have 40 acres of wood and pasture, which they will eventually share with about 20 horses, as we allow friends to pasture their horses out at the Castle.

So, SWWBO has been working on her stalls, with me as muscle when needed, and the two young men, Major and Andrew, who are helping out at the Castle in exchange for pasturage, helped us get the post holes dug for the stalls. The poles are set, and SWWBO will finish out the stalls this week. All of this labor has been supervised by the Barn Cat of Argghhh!, Sergeant S'mudge.

The Destriers of Argghhh! are in their temporary lodging, the Round Pen, seen here with dawn starting to brighten the eastern horizon yesterday morning. If you look close - you can see Willy and Petey in there.

The Gun Vault of Argghhh! is coming along - but that will be a different post.

Coalition Casualties.

One of the thing I do, in my role as a member of Congresswoman Boyda's veterans and military affairs advisory council, is talk to people - my neighbors, friends, co-workers, and sometimes just sit and listen as I overhear strangers talk - about the war. A recurring complaint is about how we're going it alone, without support from the international community.

Which, regarding Iraq, is certainly arguable, if not exactly accurate. It is less true regarding Afghanistan, the Under-Reported War. The Press seems to still support that one, so they aren't going to report on it, seemingly, since they can't use it to Bash Bush while at the same time support the war without getting confused. Or something.

Regardless, NATO is there, and I assure you, as a former soldier of NATO, I don't think too many NATO nations had on-the-shelf plans for Afghanistan. Currently, there are two Italian soldiers missing, feared kidnapped.

Just recently, Canada suffered another fatality and wounded soldiers. Corporal Nathan Hornburg is Canada's 71st fatality supporting the NATO effort in Afghanistan. A member of the King's Own Calgary Regiment, he was actually serving with C Squadron, Lord Strathcona's Horse. Captain H, himself a member of the Strathcona's told me about it. That giving Corporal Hornburg a Castle connection...

Therefore, now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Over in Iraq, Specialist Joshua H. Reeves, of Watkinsville, Georgia, died in an IED attack. An infantryman of the 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, of the 4th Brigade Combat Team of the 1st Infantry Divsion at Fort Riley, Specialist Reeves became the 134th casualty for Fort Riley.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Last, but in the eyes of his fellow soldiers, not least, there is an Australian casualty. Razz. Three Australian soldiers were wounded and one killed in two separate attacks in Afghanistan last week.

Killed doing his duty of helping to find and disarm bombs, was a furry soldier, a black Lab named Razz. H/t, Tim Blair, via CAPT H.

Name Muffy, Sergeant Kiki, muster the Guard Force. It's time to dance for Razz..

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance sing a soul to the Great Hunting Ground and Tennis Ball Chasing Facility.

When Governor Sebelius sets the day to fly the colors at half-staff for Specialist Reeves, the second staff at Castle Argghhhh! will fly the Maple Leaf.

The point of this post is simply this - we may not have all the help we'd like - but we are not alone in this fight. And we do well to remember that, now and again.

So, today, at the Castle, the colors of Canada and Australia will whip from the staffs.

Hope rides alone, indeed.

DoD Identifies Army Casualty

The Department of Defense announced today the death of a soldier who was supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Sgt. Edmund J. Jeffers, 23, of Daleville, Ala., died Sept. 19 in Taqqadum, Iraq, of injuries suffered from a non-combat related accident. He was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 9th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 2nd Infantry Division, Fort Carson, Colo.

The circumstances surrounding the death are under investigation.

If the name sounds familiar, you've met him before, in this space and elsewhere.

Sergeant Eddie Jeffers, via The New Media Journal.

And to think, I volunteered for this...

And I am ignorant to the rest of the world...or so I thought.

But even thousands of miles away, in Ramadi, Iraq, the cries and screams and complaints of the ungrateful reach me. In a year, I will be thrust back into society from a life and mentality that doesn't fit your average man. And then, I will be alone. And then, I will walk down the streets of America, and see the yellow ribbon stickers on the cars of the same people who compare our President to Hitler.

I will watch the television and watch the Cindy Sheehans, and the Al Frankens, and the rest of the ignorant sheep of America spout off their mouths about a subject they know nothing about. It is their right, however, and it is a right that is defended by hundreds of thousands of boys and girls scattered across the world, far from home. I use the word boys and girls, because that's what they are. In the Army, the average age of the infantryman is nineteen years old. The average rank of soldiers killed in action is Private First Class.

You can read the rest here. H/t, Jim C.

A voice of hope now speaks at Fiddler's Green. Or, as AFSis said, "Hope Rides Eternal."

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

"You Can't Give Someone Something You Never Received"

Yeah? Sez who?

Vietnam vets give what they never got

By Edward Colimore, Inquirer [Philadelphia] Staff Writer

For the last year, they saw the Iraq war up close; some fought gun battles with the enemy, and all were far from home and the comforts of family.

Then, after a marathon flight, the troops were back again yesterday, tired, excited, hungry, and still loaded down with their M-16s and military gear.

They did not expect anyone to notice.

But at the journey's end, Michael Engi and fellow Vietnam veterans were waiting. They are always there for the troops coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan.

At 2, 3, 4 o'clock in the morning - any time of the day or night - it does not matter. They drop what they are doing and head to Fort Dix to greet the soldiers and offer warm handshakes.

As 150 troops piled off buses at the Mobilization and Demobilization Briefing Center, more than a dozen Vietnam veterans formed a receiving line to give a welcome they did not receive decades ago. One veteran played the haunting melody of "The Minstrel Boy" on the bagpipes.

"Welcome home! Welcome back!" a beaming Engi said over and over as the soldiers moved past him.

Many lit up with smiles. Some teared up. America's newest veterans - scores of them from Pennsylvania, Delaware and other states - were surprised and touched by the gesture.

One of them took the American flag patch from his uniform and handed it to a Vietnam-era veteran, Dexter Hawkins of Browns Mills, as a way of saying thanks.

"They become overwhelmed with emotion," said Engi, 59, of Bordentown, president of New Jersey Chapter 899 of the Vietnam Veterans of America. "They're just glad to see someone understands. You see handshakes and hugs. They can't thank us enough."

Army Reserve Sgt. Tim Simon, 22, of Franklin, Pa., who just returned from al-Qayyarrah, Iraq, and who serves in the 298th Transportation Company, said: "This means a lot because of what they went through. It feels good."

The Vietnam veterans have been going to Fort Dix and McGuire Air Force Base for more than three years to offer encouragement and advice. They said they felt an emotional kinship with the troops forged by the shared experience of war.

But something cathartic happened along the way. Engi and his comrades said they got as much from the meetings as the troops did, maybe more.

"By welcoming them home, we were getting welcomed home, too, and we never had that," said Engi, a former Burlington County sheriff's officer who organized the welcome-home events and recruited other veterans. "Every time we go out there, it's the same thing. We get as much from these guys as we give them. It's better than any parade we could have ever had."

Hawkins, who served in the Air Force from 1966 to 1989, added: "If I had a son who went to war, it would tear me up [if he returned without a greeting]. I came home and was treated badly. It just wasn't right."

Curt Anderson, a Navy veteran of the Vietnam War who played the bagpipes yesterday, said the welcome-home ceremonies were "a bit like closure for us.

"It's good for both sides," Anderson, 53, of Willingboro said. "It's giving something we never got. It helps make you whole."

Tom Jellick, 75, of Wrightstown, the second vice president of Chapter 899 and the group's chaplain, said he recalled "how lonesome it was when I left for Vietnam and how bad the reception was when I got back."

An Air Force tech sergeant, he also recalled loading aircraft with ammunition and unloading bodies. "That bothered me more than anything else," Jellick said. "Some of the bags had only pieces and the blood was leaking out.

"So when I first started coming out here [to welcome the troops home], I was emotional. I cried. They got their welcome, and I didn't get mine. Some folks would get so emotional they'd have to walk around the corner. Now, we're pros at it. It's like having a treatment at the psychiatrist. I feel I'm doing something, and I'm feeling better."

Moments before the buses arrived yesterday, Engi asked his fellow Vietnam veterans "to raise your hands if you want to reenlist. They're looking for a few good men." Then buses began pulling up. "Here they come," he said.

Engi recruited veterans in Chapter 899 for arrival and departure ceremonies at Fort Dix and McGuire. The veterans also spend hours at the medical hold unit, where soldiers are treated for minor injuries as well as post-traumatic stress disorder. They bring chili and other food and talk and play pool or cards with the troops.

"I wanted them to know someone cares," said Engi, a former sergeant who served with an artillery unit in Vietnam in 1969 and 1970 and who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Engi said he and other veterans tell the troops what worked for them, especially those affected by trauma disorder. Each group that arrives is different, depending on the role they had, and the levels of combat they experienced.

"We get standing ovations from the troops all the time," he said. "We don't want them to be forgotten. Somebody has to speak up for them."

Army Sgt. Emmanuel Maxwell, 25, a member of the 24th Quartermaster unit from Fort Lewis, Wash., felt buoyed after the reception.

"It's always good to get a welcome home. I wasn't expecting it."

Army Maj. Marla Seeman, 48, of Harrington, Del., a member of the Delaware National Guard 198th Signal Battalion from New Castle, Del., said she was "honored that they [Vietnam veterans] would do this for us. It was wonderful."

One soldier probably had the best perspective of any. Sgt. Maj. Robert Wilson, 57, of Bear, Del., had fought in Vietnam in 1969 and 1970 and remembered "going over and coming back by myself.

"I turned 20 in Vietnam and 57 in Iraq," he said. "It couldn't be any better than to be welcomed by these guys. I hope they get what they want out of this. There is a different feeling today than there was during Vietnam."

H/t to Doc E. (for those of you who were wondering if he had a serious side)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
About a month ago, I aired out part of my brain, and had a brief exchange with Two-Niner in the comments about the Company "kids" -- the children of those guys we lost. Some "adopted" us after visiting our site, some just came once or twice to ask The Question and a few came because we were a link with a face on a fading photograph...

"It's giving something we never got. It helps make you whole."

Add our Company Kids to a million children who are also now grown to adulthood. We gave the Kids something to help heal their souls and they gave us something to help make us whole...

Thanks, Obie. And thank you, Kids.

POW/MIA Day.

NATIONAL POW/MIA RECOGNITION DAY, 2007

BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

A PROCLAMATION

America has been blessed by the brave men and women of our Armed Forces who have answered the call to defend our country and protect liberty around the world. On National POW/MIA Recognition Day, we honor a special group of patriots: those who have been prisoners of war and those who are still missing in action. We remain forever in their debt, and we renew our commitment to them and to their families never to rest until we have accounted for every missing service member.

To commemorate this day, the National League of Families POW/MIA flag is flown over the White House, the Capitol, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the Korean War Veterans Memorial, the World War II Memorial, and other locations across our country. This flag is an enduring symbol that reflects our solemn commitment to our courageous service members who have been imprisoned while serving in conflicts around the world and to those who remain missing. America will always remember these heroes, and we underscore our pledge to achieve the fullest possible accounting for every missing member of our Armed Forces.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, GEORGE W. BUSH, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim Friday, September 21, 2007, as National POW/MIA Recognition Day. I call upon the people of the United States to join me in honoring and remembering all former American prisoners of war and those missing in action who valiantly served our great country. I also call upon Federal, State, and local government officials and private organizations to observe this day with appropriate ceremonies and activities.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this twentieth day of September, in the year of our Lord two thousand seven, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-second.

GEORGE W. BUSH

Fort Riley Casualties.

I'm thinking this is an especially appropriate post for today, considering what's going on at the Mall today.

Make a hole there - two more inbounds to the 1st Division Stammtisch at Fiddler's Green:

Air Force Master Sergeant Patrick D. Magnani, 38, died in a non-combat related incident Sept. 4 near Bagram, Afghanistan.

Magnani was serving on a transition team assigned to 1st Brigade, 1st Infantry Division. His home of record is Martinez, Calif.

He arrived at Fort Riley in May 2007 and deployed on the transition team in July 2007.

Transition team training is a 60-day training cycle at Fort Riley to prepare small teams of American Soldiers, Airmen and Sailors to advise, teach, mentor and coach their Iraqi or Afghan counterparts.

Staff Sergeant Courtney Hollinsworth, 26, died of wounds suffered when insurgents attacked his unit using an improvised explosive device and grenades Sept. 9 in Baghdad.

Hollinsworth was a cavalry scout assigned to 1st Squadron, 4th Cavalry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Division. His home of record is Yonkers, N.Y.

He entered the Army in September 1998 and began serving with the 1st Infantry Division in June 2006. This was his second deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

To date, 133 Fort Riley Soldiers and Airmen have been killed while serving in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

News from our Man in the 'Stan.

This will remain up top all day. A note from our landlocked sailor, Joe.

Six years to the minute after the south tower fell; I was in the middle of Kabul , surrounded by scores of men and women from 38 different countries. We came bringing justice, and have stayed to bring freedom.

Hopefully an acceptable memorial.

Yeah, Joe - I think so.

Alive Day Memories (updated)

Denizenne FbL here...

"Alive Day" is a label many wounded apply to the day they were hit--the day they could've died but lived instead. HBO has taken that label for a new documentary by James Gandolfini of Sopranos fame that seems to be worth checking out.

As many of you may know, the well-being and treatment of the wounded is a subject that is very close to my heart. So, when I hear of a documentary being done about the experiences of some of them, I start to get nervous. I worry that it will be exploitative or condescending, or in some way pitying--anyone who works with the wounded knows that in most cases, offers of pity are generally not well-received.

Somehow I ended up on the publicity list for HBO's Alive Day Memories: Home from Iraq (being broadcast today) awhile ago, but I knew I had to take the time to explore it before I could endorse it. Upon getting around to reading what people who had already seen it had to say, I found most of them seemed to be viewing it through an anti-war cognitive lens that made it hard to identify the film's actual message. But simply on the basis of the following, this sounds promising. It seems Gandolfini lets interviewees speak for themselves [click on the video and see the sidebar for more excerpts and media coverage]:

There is one concern, however: the documentary includes insurgent video of successful attacks, including those that injured the veterans featured in the film. From the tone of the preview, it seems those videos are treated as archival footage relevant to the story being told, and not as something to gasp and gawk over. Still, I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea...

Alive Day Memories is being broadcast today, and will be repeated a number of times in the coming month [click and search for "alive day"]. I don't have Cable, so I would appreciate the report of anyone who is willing and able to watch. I hope Alive Day Memories is as worthwhile as the trailer seems to promise.

Update: Wounded veteran JR Salzman gives it his full endorsement. And if you miss it today, you can also stream it on on HBO.com from 11:30PM EST Sunday September 9th until Sunday September 16th.

[cross-posted at Fuzzilicious Thinking; h/t to Blackfive for the Salzman link and streaming info]

Another tough week for the 1st Infantry Division at Fort Riley.

Fort Riley Soldiers Killed in Iraq:

Staff Sergeant Jason M. Butkus, 34, died of wounds suffered when insurgents attacked his vehicle Aug. 30 in Baghdad, Iraq.

Butkus was an infantryman assigned to 1st Battalion, 28th Infantry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Division. His home of record is West Milford, N.J.

He entered the Army in February 1995 and began serving with the 1st Infantry Division in October 2006. This was his first deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

Specialist Rodney J. Johnson, 20, died of wounds suffered when insurgents attacked his unit Sept. 4 in Baghdad, Iraq.

Johnson was a cavalry scout assigned to 1st Squadron, 4th Cavalry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Division. His home of record is Houston.

He entered the Army in September 2005 and began serving with the 1st Infantry Division in March 2006. This was his first deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

Three Fort Riley Soldiers died Sept. 4 in Baghdad, Iraq, of wounds suffered from an improvised explosive device. This is a double-whammy for Kansas, as two soldiers are from Kansas.

Killed were:
Sergeant Joel L. Murray, 26.
Specialist David J. Lane, 20.
Private Randol S. Shelton, 22.

Murray was an infantryman assigned to 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Divsion. His home of record is Kansas City, Kan. He entered the Army in January 2003, and he began serving with the in April 2006. This was his second deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

Lane was an infantryman also assigned to 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Divsion. His home of record is Emporia, Kan. He entered the Army in February 2006, and he began serving with the 1st Infantry Division in July 2006. This was his first deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

Shelton was an infantryman also assigned to 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Divsion His home of record is Schiller Park, Ill. He entered the Army in October 2005, and he began serving with the 1st Infantry Divsion in March 2006. This was his first deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

To date, 130 Fort Riley Soldiers have died while serving in support of Operations Iraqi and Enduring Freedom.

Pull up some more chairs at the Big Red One's Stammtisch - 5 more, inbound.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

It's been a tough week for the Transition Teams in Afghanistan.

Some people wonder why I do the memorial posts. They posit that doing so actually undermines support for the war. I suspect it might, in people who's support for the war is already slipping. I don't intend it to fan support for the war, either, however. "Redeeming their sacrifice" is not a good reason to continue a war. If your only reason to continue fighting is to avenge the dead... well, then you're starting to sound a lot like... oh, gosh, all those people who's only good reason to kill people is because someone killed their great-grandfather 100 years ago, and so the feud must continue. Ya gotta have better reasons than that to continue the fight, and we do.

All this is inspired by the comments to Bill's Clearing Out A Cobweb post of yesterday. If you skipped it - you should read them, but one in particular inspired these words, along with the group of casualties I'm going to honor in this post.

Denizen Just This Guy said:

On thinking about this for a while, I think it's better to remember how dead comrades died, than not to remember them. Minimise the worst of the suck that way. Can't eliminate the suck, of course.

I remember people, and things, which are just gone, and which I miss horribly. Some of their going I may have been somewhat involved with. Trying not to think about it sorta works, but not very well. Thinking about it can drive one nuts. Try not to drink too much (Hah! such advice from *me*!)

Which cascaded a train of thought that ended with the lyrics of one of my favorite songs (I tend to favor dark, true enough), The Green Fields of France, by Eric Bogle:

Most especially the second verse.

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind?
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
And though you died back in 1916,
In some faithful heart are you forever 19?

Or are you a stranger without even a name,
imprisoned forever behind a glass frame
In and old photograph, torn, tattered, and stained,
And fading to yellow in a bound leather frame?

I guess I just don't want them to be nameless faces imprisoned forever in an old photograph.

TWO TRANSITION TEAM SOLDIERS KILLED IN AFGHANISTAN

Two Soldiers were killed Aug. 24 in Herat, Afghanistan, when the vehicle they were traveling in rolled over.

Killed were:
Master Sergeant Scott M. Carney, 37.
Sergeant First Class Daniel E. Miller, 43.

Carney was a mobilized Iowa National Guard Soldier assigned to the same transition team. He entered the National Guard in June 1991. He began serving with the 1st Inf. Div. in February 2007.

Miller was an infantryman serving on a transition team assigned to 1st Brigade, 1st Infantry Division. His home of record is Rossford, Ohio. He entered the Army in June 1986. He began serving with the 1st Infantry Division in November 2006. This was his first deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

This one is an unusual one. We don't often lose Finance Corps officers, especially field grade and above. It's a very small branch, so they're comparatively rare, especially in the wild where the bullets fly. The Finance Corps is feeling this one.

THREE TRANSITION TEAM SOLDIERS KILLED IN AFGHANISTAN

Three transition team Soldiers died Aug. 27 at Forward Operating Base Naray, Afghanistan, from wounds suffered when insurgents attacked their unit during combat operations in Jalalabad, Afghanistan.

Killed were:
Major Henry San N. Ofeciar, 37
Sergeant First Class Scott R. Ball, 38.
Sergeant Jan. M. Argonish, 26.

Ofeciar was a finance officer serving on a transition team assigned to 1st Brigade, 1st Infantry Division. His home of record is Agana, Guam. He entered the Army in February 1994 and deployed to Afghanistan in January 2007. This was his first deployment in support of the Global War on Terrorism.

Ball was a mobilized Pennsylvania National Guard combat engineer serving on the same transition team. His home of record is Mount Holly Springs, Pa. He entered the Army in July 1987. This was his second deployment in support of the Global War of Terrorism.

Argonish was a mobilized Pennsylvania National Guard infantryman serving on the same transition team. His home of record is Peckville, Pa. He entered the Army in February 1998. This was his second deployment in support of the Global War of Terrorism.

To date, 125 Fort Riley Soldiers and 1 Airman have been killed while serving in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

Bill left out one thing in his post below.

Now is the time at Castle Argghhh! when we dance: In Memoriam.

I think we just found out who's been saving those seats in Fiddler's Green when Bill makes the call.

Clearing Out A Cobweb

Your horoscope for today: There’s wisdom to be gained from combing through the recesses of your soul and clearing out the cobwebs.

Helicopter pilots don’t have recesses, we have compartments. Whether we’re born compartmentalizers or we learn the trick in Flight School doesn’t matter, we’re fully-functional compartmentalizers before they shake us out of the bag with Junior Wings on our chests.

When you’re in the air and nothing is going wrong, you have the luxury of browsing the compartments. When things turn sour, the lids to the compartments slam shut except the one labeled “Fly The Aircraft!” -- that mental trick allows us to survive in the air.

Memories (as distinct from experience and knowledge) may have relevance to the “Fly The Aircraft!” bin and are usually in close proximity -- emotions occupy entirely separate compartments on the periphery. Makes us really lousy at relationships, but it helps keep us alive when the cockpit turns into the last place in the world you want to be.

Sometimes, the compartments leak. Details in the memory bins furthest from “Fly the Aircraft!” fade, unless something hammers them into place -- but when that happens, nothing will budge them…

I’m putting the rest of this in flash traffic/extended entry. It’s not one of my War Stories, it’s a story about one incident that happened during my war.

It’s not a TINS. It’s also a bit long and decidedly dark…