PornoDoggy
11-10-2002, 05:32 PM
IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
11/11 - if you don't know what that day is, you should be ashamed of yourself. For a person of my age, I'm damned lucky ... I never even had to fight a 100-hour war, let alone a real one. One grandfather could have told a few younger soldiers what to expect if they ever, God forbid, encounter gas warfare. My father got a front-row seat on a Coast Guard Destroyer Escort off the coast of Normandy - close enough in to worry about the longer range German field artillery AND the short shots from the Battleships and Cruisers much further back in the line. My uncle got an all-expenses paid trip throughout the South Pacific, including Iwo Jima. My boss at my first part-time job fought through North Africa, Sicily, and Italy.
Two of the names on that Black Wall in D.C. are names that were very close to me when I was a kid; there's several more that should be, they just didn't physically die for a decade or two. I had to get help for a roommate during my first overseas deployment, when he came apart at the seams when they held a night helicopter exercise on our base. One of my Commanding Officers could no longer fly jets after flying Recon low enough over the Ho Chi Mihn trail to have small arms fire blow of a substantial portion of his left foot. Three of the aviators I served with over the years shared accommodations with LT J. McCain during the late 60s and early 70s.
And me? I was in from '73 to '83 (and yes, for those who wonder, I was just as liberal then as I am now). First four years I was in anti-submarine warfare. We were never at war ... but the difference between what we were doing and what we would have done is next to nothing - might have had to drop something nasty enough to take out a boat and piss GreenPeace off, and that's all. I spent four more trying to keep Recruiters on goal, out of jail, and off of "Sixty Minutes." The last year and a half I was with a unit that did Forward Air Control for amphibious assault groups - my old unit took my girlfriend's son and the platoon he commanded safely into and out of Afghanistan last fall. I was divorced, had kids to raise, and the ex couldn't do it ... otherwise right now I would probably be wondering if, in view of all that's going on, I could and should put in my papers for retirement ... I would have finished 30 next year.
So ... tomorrow is Veteran's Day. The right-wing warmongers and the limousine liberals will spend it trying to out-platitude one another. The furniture stores will mark up some merchandise to sell at a discount. The car dealers will try to dump some more lemons off on the public. Some folks will get the day off work, some kids will get the day off school, and most of them aren't likely have more than a passing knowledge of why.
Want to do something for Veterans Day? Grab last year's winter coat, some warm clothes or some business attire you don't wear any more and take it to a shelter - not just because there is too god damn big a chance that they could end up on the back of a vet - but because the Doughboy in Flanders Field fought for them, too. Clean out your cabinets of some canned goods and boxed foods you won't likely miss and take it to a food pantry - not because it could feed a hungry veteran, but because the airman never recovered over France or Guadacanal or Hue fought for them every bit as much as they did for anyone else. If you are a conservative, go buy a New York Times ... the boys on the still-bubbling Arizona died for it. If you are a liberal, buy a Wall Street Journal; there are American sailor's bones at the bottom of some godforsaken river in Vietnam for the right for them to publish it.
If you don't know what a Gold Star mother is, I hope you never find out. If you have never reacted with a sick feeling in your stomach to the sight of a Government car pulling up in front of a house on your street or in your subdivision, I hope you never do. Please, whatever you do, don't waste your time thanking a veteran ... when you get thanked in the service you generally tighten your sphincter over what's coming, the politicians NEVER mean it when they do, and it just ain't necessary. We did what we were supposed to do when we were supposed to do it.
But if you want to do something for all Veterans tomorrow - flip off a politician. Any party will do.
You may have your board back now.
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
11/11 - if you don't know what that day is, you should be ashamed of yourself. For a person of my age, I'm damned lucky ... I never even had to fight a 100-hour war, let alone a real one. One grandfather could have told a few younger soldiers what to expect if they ever, God forbid, encounter gas warfare. My father got a front-row seat on a Coast Guard Destroyer Escort off the coast of Normandy - close enough in to worry about the longer range German field artillery AND the short shots from the Battleships and Cruisers much further back in the line. My uncle got an all-expenses paid trip throughout the South Pacific, including Iwo Jima. My boss at my first part-time job fought through North Africa, Sicily, and Italy.
Two of the names on that Black Wall in D.C. are names that were very close to me when I was a kid; there's several more that should be, they just didn't physically die for a decade or two. I had to get help for a roommate during my first overseas deployment, when he came apart at the seams when they held a night helicopter exercise on our base. One of my Commanding Officers could no longer fly jets after flying Recon low enough over the Ho Chi Mihn trail to have small arms fire blow of a substantial portion of his left foot. Three of the aviators I served with over the years shared accommodations with LT J. McCain during the late 60s and early 70s.
And me? I was in from '73 to '83 (and yes, for those who wonder, I was just as liberal then as I am now). First four years I was in anti-submarine warfare. We were never at war ... but the difference between what we were doing and what we would have done is next to nothing - might have had to drop something nasty enough to take out a boat and piss GreenPeace off, and that's all. I spent four more trying to keep Recruiters on goal, out of jail, and off of "Sixty Minutes." The last year and a half I was with a unit that did Forward Air Control for amphibious assault groups - my old unit took my girlfriend's son and the platoon he commanded safely into and out of Afghanistan last fall. I was divorced, had kids to raise, and the ex couldn't do it ... otherwise right now I would probably be wondering if, in view of all that's going on, I could and should put in my papers for retirement ... I would have finished 30 next year.
So ... tomorrow is Veteran's Day. The right-wing warmongers and the limousine liberals will spend it trying to out-platitude one another. The furniture stores will mark up some merchandise to sell at a discount. The car dealers will try to dump some more lemons off on the public. Some folks will get the day off work, some kids will get the day off school, and most of them aren't likely have more than a passing knowledge of why.
Want to do something for Veterans Day? Grab last year's winter coat, some warm clothes or some business attire you don't wear any more and take it to a shelter - not just because there is too god damn big a chance that they could end up on the back of a vet - but because the Doughboy in Flanders Field fought for them, too. Clean out your cabinets of some canned goods and boxed foods you won't likely miss and take it to a food pantry - not because it could feed a hungry veteran, but because the airman never recovered over France or Guadacanal or Hue fought for them every bit as much as they did for anyone else. If you are a conservative, go buy a New York Times ... the boys on the still-bubbling Arizona died for it. If you are a liberal, buy a Wall Street Journal; there are American sailor's bones at the bottom of some godforsaken river in Vietnam for the right for them to publish it.
If you don't know what a Gold Star mother is, I hope you never find out. If you have never reacted with a sick feeling in your stomach to the sight of a Government car pulling up in front of a house on your street or in your subdivision, I hope you never do. Please, whatever you do, don't waste your time thanking a veteran ... when you get thanked in the service you generally tighten your sphincter over what's coming, the politicians NEVER mean it when they do, and it just ain't necessary. We did what we were supposed to do when we were supposed to do it.
But if you want to do something for all Veterans tomorrow - flip off a politician. Any party will do.
You may have your board back now.