100th Anniversary of Armistice Day

Today marked the Centennial of the end of the Great War (aka WW1). It was also my 18th Veteran's Day as a reservist, and 8 years since I mobilized to go to Afghanistan during the "Surge". As has been my intermittent habit, I give you another poem about war (and the end of war).

And There Was a Great Calm

BY THOMAS HARDY

(On the Signing of the Armistice, 11 Nov. 1918)

                                       I

There had been years of Passion—scorching, cold,

And much Despair, and Anger heaving high,

Care whitely watching, Sorrows manifold,

Among the young, among the weak and old,

And the pensive Spirit of Pity whispered, “Why?”

                                       II

Men had not paused to answer. Foes distraught

Pierced the thinned peoples in a brute-like blindness,

Philosophies that sages long had taught,

And Selflessness, were as an unknown thought,

And “Hell!” and “Shell!” were yapped at Lovingkindness.

                                       III

The feeble folk at home had grown full-used

To 'dug-outs', 'snipers', 'Huns', from the war-adept

In the mornings heard, and at evetides perused;

To day-dreamt men in millions, when they mused—

To nightmare-men in millions when they slept.

                                       IV

Waking to wish existence timeless, null,

Sirius they watched above where armies fell;

He seemed to check his flapping when, in the lull

Of night a boom came thencewise, like the dull

Plunge of a stone dropped into some deep well.

                                       V

So, when old hopes that earth was bettering slowly

Were dead and damned, there sounded 'War is done!'

One morrow. Said the bereft, and meek, and lowly,

'Will men some day be given to grace? yea, wholly,

And in good sooth, as our dreams used to run?'

                                       VI

Breathless they paused. Out there men raised their glance

To where had stood those poplars lank and lopped,

As they had raised it through the four years’ dance

Of Death in the now familiar flats of France;

And murmured, 'Strange, this! How? All firing stopped?'

                                       VII

Aye; all was hushed. The about-to-fire fired not,

The aimed-at moved away in trance-lipped song.

One checkless regiment slung a clinching shot

And turned. The Spirit of Irony smirked out, 'What?

Spoil peradventures woven of Rage and Wrong?'

                                       VIII

Thenceforth no flying fires inflamed the gray,

No hurtlings shook the dewdrop from the thorn,

No moan perplexed the mute bird on the spray;

Worn horses mused: 'We are not whipped to-day;'

No weft-winged engines blurred the moon’s thin horn.

                                       IX

Calm fell. From Heaven distilled a clemency;

There was peace on earth, and silence in the sky;

Some could, some could not, shake off misery:

The Sinister Spirit sneered: 'It had to be!'

And again the Spirit of Pity whispered, 'Why?'

Source: Thomas Hardy: The Complete Poems (Palgrave, 2001)

Found it here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57336/and-there-was-a-great-calm

"Afghan Skies" by Robert Kiely

As is my habit, here is a war poem to celebrate Veteran's day. This year's poem was written by Robert Kiely, Irish Defense Forces, while attached to ISAF in 2007. It spoke to me because he is Irish (the country of my parents), he served with ISAF in Afghanistan (mere blocks from where I served), and it captures the feelings of a deployed soldier longing for their lover (which echoed my feelings back in 2011). 

Afghan Skies
by Robert Kiely, Irish Defense Forces
‘Neath Afghan skies I lay my head
and dream of soft brown dancing eyes.
Your sweet scent from my senses fled,
your gentle touch, a distant smile.

‘Neath Afghan skies I see you sleeping,
 yet when I awake you are gone.
We share the same constellations fleeting
but countless miles see us alone.

The ceiling stares – a ticking clock
and still no calm to wistful sighs.
The shadows in the corner mock
while pictures play before my eyes.

I see across Drumavish hills,
the waves break on Rosnowla beach.
As winter blows its icy chill
your splendour smile just out of reach.

The passion that we often know.
The pleasure as our spirits ‘twined.
Breast to breast, a knowing glow -
our heart beats beat as one defined.

As slumber breaks, alone again
but images of you endure.
I hold them as my thoughts remain,
I save them in my mind secure.

‘Neath Afghan skies I write a while
and as I wish this night to fade
(a soldier’s curse, a spouse’s trial)
I wait for our reunion made.

Memorial Day Poem 2016

This year's poem is the lyrics to a song I heard at an Irish fest many years ago. For all those who died, regardless of country or year, let us remember and honor their loss.

The Green Fields of France 

by Eric Bogel

How do you do young Willie McBride,

Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside,

And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun,

I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done

I see by your gravestone you were only 19

When you joined the great fall-in in 1916

I hope you died well and I hope you died clean

Or young Willie McBride was it slow and obscene.

Did they beat the drum slowly did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind

In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined

Although you died back in 1916

In that faithful heart are you forever 19

Or are you a stranger without even a name

Enclosed then forever behind a glass frame

In an old photograph torn, battered and stained

And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.

Did they beat the drum slowly did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

The sun now it shines on the green fields of france

There's a warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance

And look how the sun shines from under the clouds

There's no gas, no barbwire, there's no guns firing now

But here in this graveyard it's still no man's land

The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand

To man's blind indifference to his fellow man

To a whole generation that were butchered and damned.

Did they beat the drum slowly did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

Now young Willie McBride I can't help wonder why

Do those that lie here know why did they die

Did they believe when they answered the call

Did they really believe that this war would end wars

Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain

The killing and the dying were all done in vain

For young willie mcbride it all happened again,

And again and again and again and again

Did they beat the drum slowly did they play the fife lowly

Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down

Did the band play the last post and chorus

Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

Here is Liam Clancy singing it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cp-OlpffDWw

Here is another version by the Dropkick Murphys: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kqba0IUdiBk

9/11 after 14 years

Fourteen years. I can't believe this much time has passed. So much has changed, and yet, so little. I looked back on 9/11 seven years after the attacks and wrote a blog about where I was and what I did. When the SEALs killed Osama, I blogged about it (from Afghanistan no less). I wrote about it back 2013 on the twelfth anniversary. I guess I should say something about it on the 14th anniversary. I can tell you I still hate that day. I tried to watch a video about it and had to put my phone away because I just couldn't watch it without losing my shit. I discovered this Amazing Spider-man written by J. Michael Stravinsky today, but totally missed it when it came out. I kept losing my vision while trying to read it and it's just a bloody comic book. The best quote from it?

"You wanted to send a message and in so doing you awakened us from our self involvement. Message received. Look for your reply in the thunder."

Maybe there is something broken inside of me now. I don't remember crying about 9/11, but today, I nearly lost my shit several times. Too many losses over the last few years. I lost my Mom and a pet this year. I lost my Dad and multiple aunts and uncles between 2005 and today. I think it all added up into a tidal wave of shit.
So I often self medicate with music. Do you have a playlist related to this tragedy? Here is mine:

Don't Tread on Me by Metallica. I chose this because the local rock station in Hartford, CT was playing this song after the second tower collapsed.
Let's Roll by Neil Young. I am sure you can figure out why.
Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue by Toby Keith. Because it's all about 9/11 and kicking ass.
Letters Home from the Garden of Stone by Everlast. Because the line "we're going in with the day light" resonated with me.
If I Ever Leave This World Alive by Flogging Molly. Should be obvious why this feels right.

I found a few more here and there, but these are the big ones. What resonates with you?

Memorial Day Post 2015

It's late for the Memorial Day observance this year, but early for next year! :-)

I saw lots of stuff on Facebook and Twitter, some good, but far too many angry or guilt ridden. The best may have been from Terminal Lance (if you aren't reading this comic, start now), a repost of his 2012 comic and accompanying post. Following the guidance of his character Abe, every beer I drank this weekend was dedicated to the fallen. I drank many beers, because there are many who fell, but sadly, there are more fallen than there is room in my stomach, so the drinking will have to continue same time next year. If you are a civilian, and untouched by this or any previous war, I am not angry that you don't understand or lack awareness. If anything, I am a little jealous. Just understand that your three day weekend means something else to a segment of the population, and that they are hurting a little (or a lot) and are depressed a little (or a lot).

Here is a cool photo that went viral this week. Just a lucky snapshot by a passing journalist at Fort Snelling National Cemetery. Haunting and poignant and not at all angry. Share it if you haven't already.

Finally, as has been my haphazard tradition, here is a poem for Memorial Day. Here is the complete Star Spangled Banner (it goes on much longer than we ever sing it). The opening lines of the last verse says it all for this holiday "O thus be it ever where freemen shall stand between their lov'd home and the war's desolation!"

The Star-Spangled Banner

O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,

What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming,

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight

O’er the ramparts we watch’d were so gallantly streaming?

And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air,

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,

O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep

Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,

What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,

As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?

Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,

In full glory reflected now shines in the stream,

’Tis the star-spangled banner - O long may it wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,

That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion

A home and a Country should leave us no more?

Their blood has wash’d out their foul footstep’s pollution.

No refuge could save the hireling and slave

From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!

Blest with vict’ry and peace may the heav’n rescued land

Praise the power that hath made and preserv’d us a nation!

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto - “In God is our trust,” 

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Smells Like Teen Spirit revisited

So I am driving down the road, windows open, Smells Like Teen Spirit comes on the radio, so of course I turn it up. But it got me thinking, because it's 2015 now, and the song is 25 years old. I wasn't even 25 when I first heard it, which was probably driving in my beat up '85 Impala, heading to Moraine Valley Community College or maybe just driving aimlessly with no particular place to go. So some things were the same, but I am driving a relatively new car, and I have 2 kids riding in the back seat who no doubt think this music is lame. I moved through 7 states, finished 3 degrees, learned to scuba dive, fly a plane, went to war, came home from war, lost both parents, along with many aunts and uncles, and changed jobs several times. So much has happened in those years, so much has changed, and yet here I am, rocking out to the same song, at around the same time of year, juggling school, work, family and friends. Not sure what that was all about, but felt like writing it down.

Memorial Day Thoughts 2014

I am thinking about the dead on this weekend.  Specifically, those who died in our country's military service in war and conflict.  I am not an uninterested observer, as these were my brothers and sisters in arms. But I am not directly affected either, as none of my shipmates, battle buddies and friends have died in combat, for which I am thankful.  But I have been thinking about some that slept in the same camp I did, walked the same broken paths, ate at the same DFAC, used the same gym.  During my tour in Kabul, eight USAF personnel and one contractor were killed by an ANA Air Corps Colonel on 27 April 2011.  This was one of the so-called Green on Blue attacks, which heightened tensions and eroded trust with our ANA allies.  It also led to actual tactical pistol training, as some of the after action reports stated that none of those killed drew their weapons.  It was a bit of a shock around Camp Eggers.  Although we had heard of these types of attacks, it was rarely something we briefed to our teams before leaving base.  We changed some of our policies after that, strictly enforcing a buddy system on ANA bases, and getting our sailors range time to maintain weapons skills.  It changed our perceptions of disagreements and arguments with the ANA.  It left me a little twitchy for a while.  What I remember most though is some guilt and sadness.  These people lived on the same relatively small base.  I am sure I walked past them at some point, but I did not recognize a single face from the photos.  The sad thing is that with almost 3000 people on that base, and regular traffic from the Embassy and ISAF HQ, most faces of people you didn't know faded into the crowd.  I am sorry I didn't get to know them before they fell.  I am sorry I wasn't there to fight beside them in their last moments.  Farewell shipmates.

Here are links to some articles with the casualty list:
http://www.airforcetimes.com/article/20110429/NEWS/104290302/DoD-identifies-8-killed-Kabul-shooting
http://www.airforcemag.com/features/personnel/pages/box050911airmen.aspx

Here are some other links to the incident:  http://www.longwarjournal.org/archives/2011/04/afghan_pilot_kills_8.php#
http://abcnews.go.com/International/afghan-pilot-disarmed-killed-americans-argument/story?id=13468438
http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/asia_pacific/air-force-advisers-remember-deadly-insider-attack-of-2011/2013/04/28/ec2fa5d4-b02a-11e2-9a98-4be1688d7d84_story.html (this one is a retrospective from last year)

Only 5 days later, President Obama announced the capture and death of Osama Bin Laden.  I remember watching the scenes on TV and internet news reports.  Other than a few high fives and probably a few America, Fuck Yeahs, we just kept doing our jobs.  An important milestone was reached, but we knew that America was committed to staying in Afghanistan through 2014.  That raid was amazing, and although there were a few near misses, we lost no one.

Just three months after Osama's death,  we lost over 30 people in one helicopter shoot down, including members of Naval Special Warfare Development Group.  One of my battle buddies read the casualty list and realized he personally knew almost every SEAL on that helicopter.  It was terrible to watch him deal with that, knowing there was nothing I could say or do to help.  He had also lost one of his brothers to a terrible accident in June.

Extortion 17 shoot down:
http://www.foxnews.com/world/2011/08/06/afghan-president-31-americans-killed-in-helicopter-crash/
http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/world/afghanistan/2011-08-06-nato-helicopter-crash_n.htm

It seems Death stalked us all that year.  It seemed I was always somewhere else when it struck out at our forces, but it finally found a member of my family.  A week after the helicopter shoot down, I received a Red Cross message indicating my father-in-law voluntarily ceased dialysis and cancer treatments and was expected to die in 1-2 weeks.  I was granted emergency leave and had priority travel out of Afghanistan (only wounded service members got out faster than me).  I was in Flint, Michigan in less than 48 hours, after passing through Al-Udeid, London, and Chicago.  I lost my luggage and had to buy clothes on the way to my in-laws house.  I actually beat my wife and kids there.  About a week after I arrived, this old warrior fought his final battle with cancer, laid down his arms and breathed his last.

In Memoriam, James Washington Crichton:  http://obits.mlive.com/obituaries/flint/obituary.aspx?pid=153282117

Somewhat grim after good weather, good food and time with friends and family.  Hope you have no tragedies to ponder in your own lives this Memorial Day.

Memorial Day Poem 2014

For this year's Memorial Day poem, here are the lyrics for Sgt. Mckenzie, from the We Were Soldiers soundtrack.  My favorite song from one of my favorite war movies.

Sgt. Mckenzie
by Joseph Kilna Mckenzi
In memory of Sgt. Charles Stuart MacKenzie, Seaforth Highlanders

Original Scottish Version

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

When they come a wull staun ma groon

Staun ma groon al nae be afraid

Thoughts awe hame tak awa ma fear

Sweat an bluid hide ma veil awe tears

Ains a year say a prayer faur me

Close yir een an remember me

Nair mair shall a see the sun

For a fell tae a Germans gun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun


English Translation

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

When they come I will stand my ground

Stand my ground I’ll not be afraid

Thoughts of home take away my fear

Sweat and blood hide my veil of tears

Once a year say a prayer for me

Close your eyes and remember me

Never more shall I see the sun

For I fell to a Germans gun

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

Lay me down in the cold cold ground

Where before many more have gone

Where before many more have gone


12 Years Later

It's hard to believe that twelve years has gone by since 9/11/01.  We invaded Afghanistan, Iraq, bombed Pakistan, Yemen, and Libya, engaged in multiple raids, including one that killed Osama Bin Laden.  Fears of terrorism seem to have faded to background noise.  War seems to be the normal state of affairs.  The TSA has sometimes mindbogglingly foolish rules, which only seem to reduce our dignity without truly increasing our security.  I got married, had kids, buried my father and my father-in-law, moved three times, and changed jobs twice.  I have been to war and came back with minimal scars despite some close calls and foolish risks.  I guess I don't have much to say these days, since this blog has been so dormant.  I just felt the need to say something on this anniversary.  I guess the emotional shock has faded and the trivial, tedious parts of life have once again taken up most of my attention on a daily basis.

Semper Fi, Corporal

I missed the announcement of the death of Cpl. Conner T. Lowry on 01 March 2012.  I found out after a friend posted to Facebook that she had just driven by his house.  I then saw a number of comments indicating people were lining up on streets in my old neighborhood in Chicago, waiting for the hearse to drive by.  Intrigued, I searched for more on the internet, starting with the official DoD announcement (linked in the title of this blog post).  I found quite a few people tweeting about him (https://twitter.com/#!/search/realtime/conner%20lowry).  As I read some of the linked articles, it really struck home.  I have been thinking about this all day.

They took him from Midway Airport (I almost always fly into Chicago via Midway).

They took him to Brother Rice High School, his alma mater and mine (class of '89 for me).  They played Taps for him there.

They took him to Saint John Fisher Parish on 102nd and Washtenaw, which is only a mile from the first house I lived in (behind Steuber's florist shop).

He was South Side Irish (to know us is to love/hate us).

He died in Helmand, Afghanistan.  I was there twice working with Marines and the ANA in 2011.  The husband of a good friend was in one of the most violent corners of Helmand last year, as was the brother of one of my comrades from the war.

There are so many shared experiences here, yet we never met.

His obituary: http://legacy.suntimes.com/obituaries/chicagosuntimes/obituary.aspx?n=conner-t-lowry&pid=156337797&fhid=2596

Some pictures from the motorcade: http://katieryanphotography.blogspot.com/2012/03/honoring-marine-corporal-conner-lowry.html

The Tribune article: http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/breaking/chi-solemn-procession-for-fallen-marine-20120309,0,2653411.story

A hero left us.  I am sorry I will never get to meet him.  Stand relieved, Marine.  We have the watch now.

Military Service, War and Death

In case you have been isolated from all communications, you have probably heard about the helicopter crash in Afghanistan that took 38 lives on 06 August 2011 (ISAF press release).  There were 8 Afghan nationals onboard, while the remainder were US special operations forces, mostly from the US Navy SEALs.  This was one of the largest single day losses for the US military and the largest single day loss of special operations forces.  More SOF operators were killed last Saturday than were killed during Operation Redwing (see my blog post on Marcus Luttrell's book Lone Survivor).  This is a painful event.  So far, it has not directly affected me.  I am a huge fan of the SOF community, but I only know a few that have worked in it.  I did not know these warriors personally.  Still, it is becoming indirectly painful, as I am seeing what happens to friends and comrades when 20-30 people they knew suddenly die.  I won't even begin to speculate what this event or the continuing press coverage is doing to the families of the deceased. I only hope what I am writing does not add to their misery.

At times like this, I reflect on my choice to serve, and the choices made by others who have made the ultimate sacrifice.  I still have no regrets.  I joined the military precisely because I felt called to serve my country in war.  Others are called to serve in other, less violent and more constructive ways, but I have always heard the siren call of Mars (Ares), Valkyries, and the Morrigan.  I don't think anyone joins seeking violent death (I didn't).  Most would probably choose to die at a ridiculous old age due to sexual exertion (or killed by a jealous lover).  Yet, few join without some understanding that those who go to war due so at some risk to themselves.

The politicians that want us to keep fighting and those that want us to quit fighting will find ways to use this event to support their views.  Boeing will try to explain why these ancient Chinooks are safe, while their competitors will argue for new airframes.  Others will say that the helos will be safe once some expensive piece of technology is added to the aircraft.  The Air Assault guys and helicopter pilots will argue that the birds and their associated tactics are the only way to fight this war.  Others will demand ground assaults, or an even faster withdrawal.

Ignore them all.  Here is what matters.  Thirty eight individuals got on that helicopter to do their job.  They chose to serve their countries in a time of death and danger, rather than settle for a safe place with their families.  Their reasons for joining, for staying, for getting on the helo that night, were no doubt somewhat different for each.  Unless they shared their thoughts with family and friends, we will never know their reasons.  They served faithfully until the day they fell in battle.  Remember them.  Honor their memories.  Help their families.  Support those who would follow in their footsteps.  If you have it in you, step forward and serve your nation for a time.

Memorial Day 2011

Most of you out there back in the world are probably still thinking of Memorial Day as a 3 day weekend with barbecues and fun. A small percentage of you know what it really means, because you have lost family, friends, lovers or comrades who lost their lives while placing themselves "Between their loved home and the war's desolation". Few know that pain today, when viewed by either absolute numbers or as a percentage of the population. For the most part, I suppose that is all to the good, but it is one more factor that is causing the military and the general population to drift apart. This photo isn't from the front lines, but more from the rear echelon (as in REMF). Still, I think it stands as a vivid reminder of what Memorial Day means. Four flags fly at half mast this week, including our own. We lost eight USAF personnel from our command on one bad day. In honor of them, this year's Memorial Day poem will be "High Flight", by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.:

"High Flight"

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.

Where never lark, or even eagle flew —

And, while with silent lifting mind I have trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Usama Bin Laden Is Dead!

... and the first question that popped into my head, will it hurt any less on the tenth anniversary, knowing UBL was turned into shark shit? I hope so. I hope those who lost someone on that day or in the wars that followed feel something other than the hole where they once family or friends.

A little over three years ago, in response to an picture on Wired's Danger Room titled "Don't you f'ing forget", I wrote about what I was doing on 9/11/01 for the seventh anniversary. Today, I will write about what I was doing on the ninth anniversary. After years of wondering if I would ever be mobilized, I received orders putting me on active duty with the U.S. Navy in Afghanistan. I spent September making final preparations for my 400 days away from home. On the ninth anniversary, I had a reasonably happy day, watching my son and his team (Go Marlins!) play t-ball, knowing I would miss the last several weeks of the season. I tried to learn some Dari (with an iPhone app) and some COIN (from the infamous field manual). I was in the middle of reading Ghost Wars by Steve Coll (the fifth book on Afghanistan I had read since receiving my orders). I worked on our will with my wife. I transitioned what I could to my coworkers. I spent what extra time I could with my kids and my wife and my friends. It was not a bad time, but it was hectic and it went by too fast.

Even though I had nothing to do with the operation against UBL, even though I realize that his death probably means nothing, strategically or tactically, to winning this Overseas Contingency Operation (our new name for "the war"), I find it hard to express in words how proud I am to be serving in the military at this time and how proud I am to be an officer in the United States Navy (can I get a hoo-yah?). Perhaps a quote from another to reflect on my feelings at this time:

"I can imagine no more rewarding a career. And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction: 'I served in the United States Navy.'"

President John F. Kennedy, 1 August 1963, in Bancroft Hall at the U. S. Naval Academy.

[Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: John F. Kennedy, Containing the Public Messages, Speeches, and Statements of the President, January 1 to November 22, 1963 (Washington: US Government Printing Office, 1964), 620]

To the operators and analysts and support staff that made the raid into Pakistan possible, I salute you (and envy you a bit). You serve in silence in a world rarely seen by the citizens of your country, but on 01 May 2011, you became rock stars. I have full confidence that one day, you will sail home with a broomstick tied to the yardarm. A clean sweep.

To our enemies still at large, rough men, willing to do violence on our behalf, are coming for you. May you die filled with the terror you sought to inflict on others.

I will observe the tenth anniversary of September 11th attacks from Afghanistan. Perhaps I will be able to answer my question then.

Strange memories of music

I was checking out some music on iTunes, when I had something of a flashback. If you are old enough, you remember the Walkman (and the Walkman copycats). This device made the audio cassette tape the king of formats in the 1980s. The availability of dual cassette decks on boom boxes and home stereos enabled people to make mix tapes. But what I suddenly remembered while checking out some new music was the smell. The smell of a brand new cassette tape from a band, maybe a new band, maybe an old favorite. After taking off the stupid plastic wrapper, you would open the plastic jewel case and take out the cassette. I remember that smell and then I remember dropping the cassette into my Walkman and listening to the album for the first time, while reading the album insert with all of the lyrics and other nonsense from front to back.

Weird the way memory works somedays.

Veteran's Day Poem

In keeping with my grim tradition, I give you another poem about war, this one courtesy of Carl Sandburg. Oh, and Happy Birthday to all you Marines out there. Semper Fi.

Grass by Carl Sandburg (1918)

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.

Shovel them under and let me work—

I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg

And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.

Shovel them under and let me work.

Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:

What place is this?

Where are we now?

I am the grass.

Let me work.

An Early Memorial Day Post

Annual Memorial Day poem posted a little early.

For The Fallen by Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,

There is music in the midst of desolation

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,

To the end, to the end, they remain.

She's got the big guns...

On my recent trip to an undisclosed location, I managed to visit the USS Missouri Memorial. It was a nice tour, especially if you like warships with 16" guns (that's 406.4 mm to you SI types). I took some photographs with the phone. Check them out.

This is what you see as you approach the ship from the port side. You can never fly too many US flags.

This photo is from the bow, near the anchor chains, looking aft toward 6 of the biggest mobile guns in the world.

This next shot is looking forward over the guns from the bridge wings. The white structure is the Arizona Memorial.

Here is a photo of the plaque embedded in the deck marking the location where the representatives of the Empire of Japan signed the instrument of surrender before the representatives of the Allied Powers, marking the end of World War II.

The Moon is a harsh mistress...

A friend of mine, @tragedyman, asked me to respond to the New Scientist article "NASA moon plan was an illusion, wrapped in a denial" by Henry Spencer. I have read the article a couple of times, and I think I am ready to start my rant.

First, in the interest of full disclosure, if you don't know me, think a spacer is a piece of mechanical hardware similar to a washer, and have no idea who Robert Heinlein was (see quote at top of this page), then let me give a representation of my general outlook on life: I am a bit of a recovering space fan(atic), a misplaced almost rocket scientist, a thrice rejected astronaut applicant, someone whose ideal career pinnacle would be leaving boot prints in the dust of an alien planet, even if it was a one way trip.

'nuff said? Ben Grimm said that first and he was an astronaut (okay, comic/cartoon astronaut) too and the Thing, which is cool.

I think Spencer's take on the last space exploration plan/program (Constellation/Orion/Ares I/V) is largely correct. It was never properly funded. If you compare the funding levels of the Apollo program to the funding levels of the recently cancelled program, you could easily predict that it was never going to happen. Check out this wikipedia page on NASA's budget history in 2007 year dollars. You can see on that page that near it's peak, NASA was getting the equivalent of $33 billion and about 5% of the Federal budget. The 2009 budget was something like $17 billion and only 0.5% of the Federal budget. Less than half the total NASA budget during the Apollo years, while building a space station, operating the Shuttle and trying to design a "new" launch system. Meanwhile, as a percentage of the Federal budget, it is down to only 10% of what it was in the peak Apollo years. It is not an absolute indicator, but it would seem that NASA is less important to the Federal government today, than back then (genius insight, I know). From a technical perspective, they were half-assing it, mixing pieces of the Shuttle program with new components into unwieldy systems that needed a full development program to make them work. They have proposed, studied, and abandoned more versions of the Moon program than I can recall in the last twenty years (and they have been doing it for forty, all told). Mr. Spencer may not be mourning it much, but I do. It is one more major program abandoned. We were explorers, once, but no more, it seems.

The author then rips on NASA's robots several times. I am not sure why. Sure, I always want to see humans out there exploring, but given our inability to commit to a human exploration program and then execute it, the robots may be the only game in town for a while. They seem to be doing good, given the difficulties of the environment and the fact that they in many cases far exceed their design lives. They also make great pathfinders (NASA did this prior to the Apollo landings as well). They are also force multipliers (send them to one place while the astronauts go somewhere else).

I think his most important observations are stated nicely in the last paragraph. Essentially, there are no clear plans, short term or long term. As they said in Battlestar Galactica, this has all happened before and it will all happen again. It is time to break this cycle. Goals should be stated in a clear measurable way that answer three important questions:

-What are we going to do?

-When are we going to get it done?

-How are we going to do it?

To be effective, especially in our political environment, you have to have a short term, clear measurable goal. Hopefully, that short term goal and the means used to achieve can be utilized for the next step (whatever that might be).

Example, to kick off Apollo, Kennedy proposed this plan in 1961:

"First, I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth. No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important for the long-range exploration of space; and none will be so difficult or expensive to accomplish. We propose to accelerate the development of the appropriate lunar space craft. We propose to develop alternate liquid and solid fuel boosters, much larger than any now being developed, until certain which is superior. We propose additional funds for other engine development and for unmanned explorations--explorations which are particularly important for one purpose which this nation will never overlook: the survival of the man who first makes this daring flight. But in a very real sense, it will not be one man going to the moon--if we make this judgment affirmatively, it will be an entire nation. For all of us must work to put him there."

This is reasonably specific for a presidential speech. It talks about when (less than 9 years), it talks about what (send a man to the moon and bring him back alive and well), and it talks about how (rockets, either solid or liquid, lunar space craft, unmanned exploration, funding for additional R&D). The key politically is providing a short time frame and a measurable goal. If the time frame is too long, it will never happen (the last two moon programs had lead times of 15 years before anything would happen-plenty of time to be underfunded and cancelled). It should be tied to the idea of a national goal or effort (this was hammered home repeatedly during Apollo-this is not an astronauts program or NASAs program, this is America's program).

Well, it is getting late and I am not sure what else to ramble on about.

Book Review: Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell

I recently finished reading Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell (with Patrick Robinson). This is the story of the last surviving member of the SEAL team dispatched on Operation Redwing in July of 2005. Marcus was dispatched with team mates LT (SEAL) Michael P. Murphy, Sonar Technician Surface Second Class (SEAL) Matthew G. Axelson, and Gunners Mate Second Class (SEAL) Daniel Dietz. Their mission to capture or kill a Taliban leader with ties to Al Qaeda. The mission starts out okay, but eventually, they are discovered and must fight for their lives. In the course of the ensuing Battle of Murphy's Ridge, three of the four members of the team are killed. One of the last acts of LT Murphy is to place himself in direct fire of the enemy so he can radio for help. He is mortally wounded while doing this but successfully makes the call. A rescue mission is dispatched, but Al Qaeda or Taliban insurgents manage to shoot it down, resulting in the largest single day loss of SEALs in their history.

This is the story of that mission told from the point of view of the only survivor, Marcus Luttrell. It is a powerful story of men in combat. The part of the book where he describes the death of his comrades, the fall of powerful warriors in battle, was shocking. I almost had to quit reading this book. I made the mistake of reading it on an airplane and I was almost in tears after reading that passage. I decided if Luttrell was brave enough to endure the actual experience, then the least I could do was to be brave enough to finish reading his story.

I strongly recommend this book (just don't read it in public if you might be embarrassed by public tears). This is the tale of some of our bravest warriors fighting in our current wars. Something that neither our media or our government seem comfortable discussing, either then (2005) or now (2010). Do these men the honor of learning their tale, remember their names. I wish I had the opportunity to meet those SEALs before they died.

Light dusting my @$$

I was told that this is a light dusting compared to Chicago, but this is starting to look like mountain weather at this point-it has been snowing for close to 18 hours now. I think there is a good 12-18 inches on top of this truck.

The snow drift next to the truck is a Mazda 3 (for scale):

A view down the driveway-shoveled clear before noon, completely covered again by 5pm:

Stairs, also cleared at noon, completely covered again by 5pm

Still snowing and no sign of plows, I wonder if the Mayor's last name is Bilandic...