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...

For Veteran's Day and Memorial Day too

Bloody hell. I missed my annual posting for Memorial Day and now Veteran's day has passed as well.

First, to honor Veteran's Day in the Geek Way, Wired's Geek Dad has a list of Geek heros who were real heros as well. http://www.wired.com/geekdad/2009/11/geekdad-salutes-our-veterans/

Well, to maintain my haphazard tradition of posting military poems, I found this one by General George S. Patton, Jr., called "Through A Glass, Darkly". It is a bit long, but I post it here anyway.

THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY

Through the travail of the ages,

Midst the pomp and toil of war,

Have I fought and strove and perished

Countless times upon this star.

In the form of many people

In all panoplies of time

Have I seen the luring vision

Of the Victory Maid, sublime.

I have battled for fresh mammoth,

I have warred for pastures new,

I have listed to the whispers

When the race trek instinct grew.

I have known the call to battle

In each changeless changing shape

From the high souled voice of conscience

To the beastly lust for rape.

I have sinned and I have suffered,

Played the hero and the knave;

Fought for belly, shame, or country,

And for each have found a grave.

I cannot name my battles

For the visions are not clear,

Yet, I see the twisted faces

And I feel the rending spear.

Perhaps I stabbed our Savior

In His sacred helpless side.

Yet, I've called His name in blessing

When after times I died.

In the dimness of the shadows

Where we hairy heathens warred,

I can taste in thought the lifeblood;

We used teeth before the sword.

While in later clearer vision

I can sense the coppery sweat,

Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery

When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.

Hear the rattle of the harness

Where the Persian darts bounced clear,

See their chariots wheel in panic

From the Hoplite's leveled spear.

See the goal grow monthly longer,

Reaching for the walls of Tyre.

Hear the crash of tons of granite,

Smell the quenchless eastern fire.

Still more clearly as a Roman,

Can I see the Legion close,

As our third rank moved in forward

And the short sword found our foes.

Once again I feel the anguish

Of that blistering treeless plain

When the Parthian showered death bolts,

And our discipline was in vain.

I remember all the suffering

Of those arrows in my neck.

Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage

As I died upon my back.

Once again I smell the heat sparks

When my flemish plate gave way

And the lance ripped through my entrails

As on Crecy's field I lay.

In the windless, blinding stillness

Of the glittering tropic sea

I can see the bubbles rising

Where we set the captives free.

Midst the spume of half a tempest

I have heard the bulwarks go

When the crashing, point blank round shot

Sent destruction to our foe.

I have fought with gun and cutlass

On the red and slippery deck

With all Hell aflame within me

And a rope around my neck.

And still later as a General

Have I galloped with Murat

When we laughed at death and numbers

Trusting in the Emperor's Star.

Till at last our star faded,

And we shouted to our doom

Where the sunken road of Ohein

Closed us in it's quivering gloom.

So but now with Tanks a'clatter

Have I waddled on the foe

Belching death at twenty paces,

By the star shell's ghastly glow.

So as through a glass, and darkly

The age long strife I see

Where I fought in many guises,

Many names, -- but always me.

And I see not in my blindness

What the objects were I wrought,

But as God rules o'er our bickerings

It was through His will I fought.

So forever in the future,

Shall I battle as of yore,

Dying to be born a fighter,

But to die again, once more.

Is Halloween dead? It seems to be in Maryland...

No offense to native Marylander's, but are you from a different America? I have only been in this state about 2 months, but I find it hard to believe I will last a full year.

Halloween came and went this year, but it was very disappointing. We were ready to rock. The kids had matching Power Ranger costumes (their choice). We had candy. We had pumpkins-I even carved three into Jack O'Lantern's (Named for an Irishman, I am sure). Not a single trick or treater was sighted in the neighborhood. We took the kids out shortly after dark, but not very late (around 1900 local time). Out of about six doorbells, only two people answered their doors. They had treats to hand out, but still seemed genuinely surprised to see anyone out and about. We took our now thoroughly dejected kids home in the slight drizzle that just seemed timed for the sad music part of our day. We turned on the TV and couldn't even find the Great Pumpkin on TV. It was like we were in the old Soviet Union. In Russia, you don't scare people, Russia scares you! Bah, I can't even do humor, I am so depressed.

Maryland, you are on notice. We have a few more holidays in the near future. You better get ready to celebrate like you're in America or we kick you out of the union. My family will relocate if we have to. Virginia is starting to sound nice.

So much for Goth Christmas 2009.

Farewell to JSF Flight Test

28 August 2009 marks a personal milestone. It was my last day working on the Pratt & Whitney Joint Strike Fighter engine (aka the F135). It is hard to believe that I worked almost ten years on that program (and slightly more than 10 years as a UTC employee). Unfortunately, I had to leave the company for personal reasons.

I spent most of the last five years supporting ground testing of engines and flight testing of the F-35 Lightning II (the official name for the Joint Strike Fighter). I was able to see and do many cool things.

I attended the last bolt ceremony for the first engine to test.

I went to Indy to help install some equipment that Rolls Royce used to test their LiftFan.

I helped install and test the first STOVL ground test engine at our facility in Florida. I was hanging upside down at one point behind the LiftFan (the upward pointing cone in the picture below) trying to hook up cables I could barely touch but could not see. Obviously, before we started running the engine and there was a safety platform under me. Good times.

I was able to get some trips to Tennessee to learn how to test engines at simulated altitude conditions at Arnold Engineering Development Center (AEDC).

I spent some time helping out on Accelerated Mission Testing of a STOVL engine. Third shift was so much fun.

I then moved to Texas in 2005 to support engine/airframe integration testing in the labs (required for flight clearance). While there, I got to see and do more cool things.

I watched the first takeoff and landing of the first Joint Strike Fighter (AA-1) before they started calling it the F-35 Lightning II. The landing gear was extended, so it had to climb at a steep angle to keep within speed limits. The chase planes were on full afterburner trying to catch up. A very rewarding sight to an engine guy. First flight was followed up by a party at the Flying Saucer (where I scored free beer from an anonymous P&W executive).

http://www.lockheedmartin.com/products/f35/f35-video.html

I had the opportunity to test many engines in a Navy hush house. It was great to sit in a trailer, outside of a thick walled building and feel the ground shake when the engine was at maximum augmentation (aka full afterburner for you GE fans).

I watched the first takeoff and landing of the first F-35B, BF-1 (first STOVL variant flight).

I learned how to cover flight tests from the control room and was able to support a number of AA-1 flights.

I was able to attend the F-35C carrier variant rollout.

Finally, I got to cover the ground tests and first flight of BF-2, the second F-35B to fly. This took a lot of late nights, 3rd shift work, and weekends, but it was worth it. I even got a very cool challenge coin from the test pilot (he gave one to each of the control room folks). I covered all but the last two flights, including the first aerial refueling of an F-35B (click for a link to LM press release along with a great photo). These were some of the most difficult but also most rewarding work experiences of my life.

But while it was great to see and do cool things, the part of my job in Texas I will miss the most is working with some of the best people on the planet-the P&W/HS Flight Test Team. May our paths cross again one day.

If you are interested in this program, you can find out more at www.jsf.mil (lots of pictures there) or at www.twitter.com/f135engine.

Where did the last two months go?

Huh. It has been more than two months since I wrote something here. Where did the time go?

Helped family move to temporary housing, found daycare, then left family went back to work.

Worked a few extra hours.

Helped family find a house to live in long term, then left family and went back to work.

Worked too many hours trying to get an airplane ready to fly.

Went back to see family for Independence Day, helped with unpacking and moving of heavy objects. Saw some fireworks, hung out with kids, then left family and went back to work.

Worked a stupid amount of hours but finally got airplane in the air.

Keep having to work weekends, so have not seen family in a month. Major suck factor.

Occasionally babbled on twitter. Waiting for work to slow down so I can get back out for a visit.

The Great Move of 2009

Well, we did it again. We moved from one side of the Mississippi to the other. This time east bound to the DC area from Hell's Half Acre in Texas. It took us 3 days. We passed through big portions of four states. The cats shed a lot of fur. The kids (two this time instead of one) took some years off our lives.

Some highlights:
-Cats seemed to find tiny places with good claw holds in which to hide. Fortunately, nature has provided a convenient hand hold on the scruff of the neck. Otherwise, we would have left them somewhere (under a hotel bed or under the back seat of the truck).
-Saw Memphis, TN and was seriously underwhelmed. Place needs an enhanced blast weapon (instead of an enhanced radiation weapon). Kim Jong-Il, this one is a freebie.
-Stopped at Graceland, but the price and the wait (more than the price) made it unattractive, so we did not see the Jungle Room or the cars or the Gold Records. We did briefly see the airplanes (not bad for the time, but pretty unimpressive today).
-Did not see the ghost of Elvis on Union Avenue, very disappointed.
-Stopped near Roanoke to check out the Smoky Mountain Brewery and Restaurant. Good stout, so-so food (okay for a pub).
-Spent the night in Kingsport, TN (never heard of it before). We stayed at the Jameson Inn, which was pet friendly, people friendly, and NOT selected due to whiskey preferences.
-Stopped at the Natural Bridge-one big hunk of rock. Got completely soaked in the rain, but the kids seemed to have fun.
-Have become fully ensconced in corporate apartment (Cats have registered grudging approval due to high cabinets that they can climb).

We plan to check out museums (okay, just the Udvar-Hazy center at Dulles) in between house hunting and daycare/school hunting (no licenses required and no bag limit-yeehaw).