Soldiers/Vets Archive

With the Israeli Defense Forces now engaged on the ground in Gaza, now might be a good time to consider helping out. There are two organizations I've supported in the past and will support in the future.

American Friends of Magen David Adom provides support to the MDA (the Israeli version of the Red Cross.)

PizzaIDF does something directly for the troops of the IDF: delivers pizza to troops on the ground. I remember times in Korea, after a month or two on the DMZ, when I'd have cheerfully killed (OK, OK, maybe just maimed) for a hot slice of pizza and a cold Coke.

You can also specify pizza delivery to a family in Sderot, which has been on the receiving end of the Hamas rocket attacks.

Now, follow those links and give until it hurts.

Poor career choice: IED Emplacement Team.

Very interesting item about US troops, as seen by one of the French troops serving alongside them in Afghanistan: A Nos Freres d’Armes Americains.

OK, OK, you might not actually read French. My apologies.*

An English translation is here: American troops in Afghanistan through the eyes of a French OMLT infantryman.

Here we discover America as it is often depicted: their values are taken to their paroxysm, often amplified by lack of privacy and the loneliness of this outpost in the middle of that Afghan valley. Honor, motherland — everything here reminds of that: the American flag floating in the wind above the outpost, just like the one on the post parcels. Even if recruits often originate from the hearth of American cities and gang territory, no one here has any goal other than to hold high and proud the star spangled banner.

Quite a nice tribute to our lads over there. Do read the whole thing.

* To be honest, my French is somewhat rusty, it having been close to 30 years since my four years of Mr. Piacentini's classes in high school... one of those intervening years spent at the Defense Language Institute Korean Basic Course, by the conclusion of which I had trouble writing English, much less remembering anything about French, other than that I had once been moderately fluent.

The Iraq War is over.

We won.

By every measure, The United States and coalition forces have conclusively defeated all enemies in Iraq, pacified the country, deposed the previous regime, successfully helped to establish a new functioning democratic government, and suppressed any lingering insurgencies. The war has come to an end. And we won.

What more indication do you need? An announcement from the outgoing Bush administration? It's not gonna happen. An announcement from the incoming Obama administration? That's really not gonna happen. A declaration of victory by the media? Please. Don't make me laugh. A concession of surrender by what few remaining insurgents remain in hiding? Forget about it.

The moment has come to acknowledge the obvious. To overtly declare a fact that has already been true for quite some time now. Let me repeat:

WE WON THE WAR IN IRAQ.

The Iraq War is over. We won.

I've owned and/or fired one version or another of every rifle that has been standard issue for the US Army since the 1870s. Of all this wide variety of rifles, without a doubt my favorite has been the M1A, the civilian version of the Army's venerable M14 which, as you may already know, was replaced in service by the M16.

In nearly every measure of performance, the M14 was the superior weapon; for accuracy and terminal ballistics, the raisons d'être of a combat rifle, the M14 far outstripped the M16. The only disadvantages commonly cited were that it was heavier and required a heavier ammunition load, chambered as it was in NATO-standard 7.62mm.

The M16, on the other hand, was lighter and allowed the soldier to carry more ammunition — a cynic might say that the higher number of rounds almost made up for their lack of effectiveness — and was favored by the "top-down" weapon procurement policies of the 1960s Department of Defense under McNamera.

"The M16 is to a rifle as the banjo is to a guitar" - Jeff Cooper

The M16 was adopted over the objections of US servicemen and our allies alike; when the Pentagon told our NATO allies that our forces would standardize on the M16's 5.56mm round rather than the 7.62mm, they were decidedly unhappy, having already invested a tidy sum in standardization.

The M16 with its 5.56mm round was sadly lacking in performance (earning it nicknames like "Mattel rifle" and "poodle shooter") and though it had sent a variety of our enemies to Hell over the years, it wasn't really until the introduction of the M16A2 (and a more powerful round, the M855) in the 1980s that the M16 became a reliably effective weapon under most circumstances.

The grand old M14, though, lives on. Though it's not new news, I'm nonetheless pleased to see this article (which prompted me to write today) at Military.com, New Lease on Life for the Beloved M-14.

There's a time and place to say "out with the old and in with the new," but I'm glad to see that our newest generation of warriors has a fondness for the classics.

It's Ammo Day today, by the way.

Happy 233rd birthday to the United States Marine Corps.

It only just occured to me: with my two years as a squad leader in the Army, I have more executive experience than Obama does.

Sarah Palin's years as a decisive mayor and governor — and as a reformer — far outweigh Obama's history of "present" votes (or absenteeism) during his career as part of the — undeniably corrupt — Chicago political machine.

Taliban suicide troops attack US forces in Afghanistan, with predictable results.

Perhaps they should have watched a training video or two:

You can keep your 12-gauge shotguns. (I'm certainly keeping mine.)

They don't rate with the Tank Cartridge, 120mm, Canister, XM1028.

In the past I had, from time to time, harbored the hope that I might someday return to the Army, despite the back problem that ended my career. Now, of course, I'm too old and thoroughly broken to get back in.

Here's an amazing story of a soldier who refuses to quit, despite horrific injury: Blind Special Forces soldier: determined to serve.

"I am going to push the limits," the 40-year-old said. "I don't want to go to Fort Bragg and show up and sit in an office. I want to work every day and have a mission."

I don't know, but I thank God that we do get them.

Any time in the future that I'm tempted to think, because of my disability, how hard it is to do whatever I'm doing, I hope I'll remember Captain Ivan Castro.

(via Hot Air headlines.)

. . . Mike at Cold Fury has used it well enough that I don't have to: "risible."

(Language alert is in effect.)

Korean linguists in the US Army are an extremely rare breed. It's hard just to qualify for the training; even harder to make it through. There were and are very few of us in the service at any given time, and when I was in, we all knew (or knew of) each other.

One of the things I've most regretted since I left the Army all those years ago is that I didn't keep in touch with the others in our small, select fraternity. Recently, however, thanks to the Internet, I've gotten back in contact with a number of my former colleagues.

It's been good, rebuilding those links, and catching up with the news of who is doing what these days, as well as hearing from those who came before and those who followed my time in the service.

Unfortunately, bad news comes along from time to time, too.

I recently learned that one of my fellow squad leaders from Fort Ord days, while serving another tour in Korea, had collapsed and died after a morning PT run. He was a month younger than me. He was a heck of a soldier, and highly regarded by all who served with him.

And this past weekend, one of my former platoon sergeants died suddenly of a heart attack. He'd just gotten married, and was getting ready to go on his honeymoon trip this week. He was only a few years older than I am. I remember him as a smart and steady leader, and a nice guy, as well. I've been thinking about him a lot this week.

Both these men dedicated their lives to our country, and though neither faced combat, both were dedicated and skilled, and served willingly and with good cheer. Both are missed.

A friend recently noted that though we in the Korean linguist community never had our careers "highlighted" by a shooting war, we stood there at the very threshold of war for all the time we spent in "The Land of the Morning Calm." Very few others can truly appreciate the full time "pucker factor" induced by incidents such as Kim Il Sung's death, the Tree Chopping Incident or the many other tension-raising events that shaped our service.

When the Taliban tried attacking a US base, they received the warm reception chronicled in the video below. It's soldiers... so there's some language....

Via Ace o' Spades HQ. From the comments:

"The length some guys will go to to work off their bitterness about economic insecurity and government neglect!"

Heh.

My brother's wife's brother's son is a Marine, newly stationed only an hour or so away from where I am. I'll be seeing him tomorrow as he comes up to relieve me of the burden of having one vehicle too many. He's getting the Blazer.

What does one call one's brother's wife's brother's son?

I'm opting for "nephew in law, once removed."

Either that, or "Lance Corporal."

You might want to keep your distance. Just in case, I mean.

While digging through 25 years worth of personal effects, looking to get rid of a lot of pointless junk that has accumulated over the course of my life (and without which I could really do), I found stacks of photos — hundreds of them — that I took while I was in the Army in Korea from 1988 to 1990.

Sorting them and identifying the people in the pictures will be an overwhelming task... but I think I might scan a few and post them here from time to time.

For now, a picture from October 1988, somewhere near the DMZ in South Korea, a much younger me takes a break to listen to a cassette and write home.

Wow. I used to have hair.

My working nights and weekends means I'm not able to do a few things that most people might be able to do. My social life has, shall we say, been negatively impacted.

My social life was never that great to begin with. What I regret not being able to do, though, is something like this:

What: Gathering of Eagles

When: March 17th, 2007 0700-1600 (7 AM to 4 PM)

Where: The Vietnam Veteran's Memorial Wall, Washington D.C.

Why: To stand silent guard over our nation's memorials, in honor of our fallen, and in solidarity with our armed forces in harm's way today. Read our mission statement.

I wish I could go.

There’s a big difference between volunteers and mercenaries. Our fighters are where they are because, by and large, they believe in something bigger than themselves, they have learned that you can live in a community where virtue does not equal narcissism, and they know that they are far more than a nuisance. They’re in it for all of us, and if they lose it’s going to be bad for all of us.

Michael Ledeen, in Those Who Serve.

Powerline examines Washington Post reporter William Arkin's anti-troop sentiments, laid out bare for all to see.

Apropos of which, Instapundit has some linkage, and reader comments, including this steaming pile from one of Arkin's blog commenters:

"U.S. soldiers are by no means "volunteers," any more than I am a volunteer plumber. When a person accepts compensation in the form of respect, glory, and not least of all monetary benefits (not to mention a host of other privileges for serving one's country after service is completed) a transaction is made in which both sides receive some benefit. Fisherman in Alaska take on relatively larger risks in exchage [sic] for relatively larger reward. Why is the U.S. military of the 21st century so different in this regard?"

The problem with this sentiment is that soldiers voluntarily take on much, much larger risks for much smaller rewards. If one were to do a risk/reward calculation for various professions, from CEO to registered nurse to cop to garbageman to soldier, soldiering would come out pretty much at the bottom of the scale.

No one who can do math joins the Army for money; anyone joining for "glory" is in for a big disappointment.

And yet, the commenter is tangentially correct in one regard. If I were young enough (and could walk without falling over) I'd drop my career in a heartbeat and go back into the service, because I never respected myself as much as when I was a soldier.

Self respect doesn't exactly max out the 401K, does it?

There's much more here, courtesy of the indispensible Michelle Malkin.

On this Veterans Day, we have recent news that the nation's highest award for valor, the Medal of Honor, will be awarded posthumously to Corporal Jason Dunham, USMC. There is an entire category dedicated to CPL Dunham at America's North Shore Journal. Read it, and remember.

On April 14, 2004, Corporal Dunham heroically saved the lives of two of his fellow Marines by jumping on a grenade during an ambush in the town of Karabilah. When a nearby Marine convoy was ambushed, Corporal Dunham led his squad to the site of the attack, where he and his men stopped a convoy of cars trying to make an escape. As he moved to search one of the vehicles, an insurgent jumped out and grabbed the corporal by the throat. The corporal engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, he shouted to his fellow Marines, "No. No. No. Watch his hand." Moments later, an enemy grenade rolled out and Corporal Dunham jumped on the grenade to protect his fellow Marines, using his helmet and body to absorb the blast. Corporal Dunham succumbed to his wounds on April 22, 2004.

I have in the past had to do a few things that might require one to "suck it up" and carry on, but I cannot fathom the kind of courage exhibited by CPL Dunham. We as a nation are blessed to have such fine people serving.

Via Blackfive, a music video from Australian country singer Beccy Cole.

The song, Poster Girl (Wrong Side of The World), is her answer to those fair-weather fans who didn't like the fact that she supports the Diggers.

Outstanding.

Can we adopt her or something? And send the Dixie Twits to, I dunno, France?

Everything I am in my present career, everything I do, I am being and doing only because I can no longer be a soldier.

I like my career, but I love the Army. I'd give anything to be young enough to start my Army career over... and to be prescient enough to avoid the back injury that put an end to that career.

Hoo-rah.

(Video found courtesy of Major John at Miserable Donuts.)

^{[This is a re-post, modified, from 9/11/2004]}

One morning while working from home I turned on the TV in time to see one of the World Trade Towers burning. As I watched, an airliner slammed into the second tower; in that second, the world changed.

No, that's not right. The world didn't change — we all woke up.

As events unfolded, I could only think of the people trapped by the fire, and I wondered how the authorities would evacuate so many people. Helicopters on the roof, I figured.

Then the towers fell. A plane had crashed into the Pentagon, and everyone expected there would be more attacks.

Our "vacation from history" was over, and we were at war. Against whom didn't quite matter at that moment.

Remember the preliminary casualty estimates? Numbers upwards of 30,000 were cited that morning. The shock I felt could only have been the merest shade of the horror and despair felt by the families of the victims watching on TV, wondering if their loved ones had escaped... or wondering if the body falling from the tower was their family member.

Five years later, we count ourselves fortunate that "only" 3,000 died on 9/11.

From that day and in the years since, we have learned of acts of incredible courage and steadfastness, starting with Todd Beemer and his fellow passengers on Flight 93, continued by the people who stopped Richard Reid's potentially deadly shoe-bomb plot, carried on by men leaping into the darkness over Afghanistan, with leaders like GEN Tommy Franks, and continuing today with all our armed forces.

We are also fortunate that the man in the White House is a man of moral courage and intestinal fortitude, who knows that doing the right thing should not be subject to an opinion poll.

Since 9/11, the war on terrorists and terrorist states has gone very well overall, with few mistakes and a blessedly low casualty rate for our soldiers. We have also been lucky enough — and good enough — not to have suffered another attack approaching the magnitude of 9/11.

The lesson I take from all this is that we can never again allow ourselves to nap through history; it has a way of catching up with us, and when it does, it will take all our skill, intelligence and courage to face it down. The bad guys, present and future, may get lucky again some day, but real Americans are made of stern stuff. No matter the setbacks we may face in the future, we will ultimately win.

Today, I got the letter.

Dear Veteran:

The Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) has recently learned that an employee took home electronic data from the VA, which he was not authorized to do and was in violation of established policies.

. . . .

As a result, information identifiable with you was potentially exposed to others.

Swell. Just &@#%^! superb.

It seems that nearly everyone in my blogrolls has something to say for Memorial Day.

Me, I'll just repeat part of what I said last year:

There is something fundamentally sacred that attaches to those who have given their lives for this great nation, and consequently I tend to think that Memorial Day is as close to a religious holiday as any secular holiday can possibly be. The appellation "holy day" rarely seems as appropriate. But mere gratitude doesn't seem to me to be enough - to honor those who have fallen, we must truly memorialize them, committing their sacrifices to memory and never ever forgetting them.

Beth at My Vast Right Wing Conspiracy posts a note from a Marine OIF veteran and her own message.
Chuck Simmons tells of two soldiers.
At Cold Fury, Al says thanks.
Confederate Yankee has not one, but two must-reads.
Acidman has a link you shouldn't miss.
A video tribute at Hot Air.
Major John tells of a Vietnam hero.
Vinnie has a special flag at the Jawa Report.
Nehring reviews ten top war films.
SGT Hook remembers an old friend.
For Love of Country, from Jim at Smoke on the Water.
Ian links to a Ben Stein piece.
Val at Babalu reminds us that Freedom Isn't Free.
Cox & Forkum need no words.
Smash. Go and read.
Greyhawk revisits some sacred words. In fact, you ought to just read his whole site today.
John Donovan... well, you can read this and this, but you'd be better off reading his whole site, too.
Emperor Misha I, on remembering the fallen.
James Joyner has the President's Proclamation.
Scott of Scrappleface gets serious.
Kelly has suggestions for observing the day, at The Patriette.

Link roundups:
Michelle Malkin.
Stop the ACLU.
Wizbang!
Blackfive.

Others posting:
Ith at Absinthe and Cookies.
Laurence Asks the Cats about Memorial Day.
The Gettysburg Address, courtesy of the Llamabutchers.
Brian at gives a repeat performance. Nicely done.
Tanker at Mostly Cajun pulls no punches.
A few thoughts from Mr. Minority.
Banagor tells us what he really thinks.
Gettysburg remembered, at Power Line.
Remembering why, at Spatula City.
Scott says thanks at Speed of Thought.
Jeff at A Little More To The Right.
Captain Ed at Captain's Quarters.
Doggerel Pundit (and be sure to follow his link to Elements of Chance.)
Lori at Downtown Chick Chat.
Donnah, at Florida Cracker.
IMAO gets serious... twice.
Jim at Parkway Rest Stop.
John Hawkins, Right Wing News.
William Teach at Pirate's Cove.

If you're going to have a group called "Iraq Veterans Against the War" you might consider having actual veterans going public.

Everyone is entitled to an opinion; no one is entitled to lie.

Disgusting:

Hecklers harass families of US soldiers killed in Iraq

Five women sang and danced as they held up signs saying "thank God for dead soldiers" at the funeral of an army sergeant who was killed by an Iraqi bomb.

For them, it was the perfect way to spread God's word: America was being punished for tolerating homosexuality.

In my ever-so-humble opinion, the best dancing those women could do would be at the end of a rope.

For the hundreds of flag waving bikers who came to this small town in Michigan Saturday to shield the soldier's family, it was disgusting.

"That could be me in that church," said Jackie Sandler whose son Keith is currently serving his second tour of duty in Iraq.

. . .

But it was the callousness and cruelty of harassing the grieving families of soldiers at dozens of funerals across the country that has sparked a grassroots movement of bikers determined to drown out the jeers and taunts.

In Flushing, Michigan they turned their leather-clad backs to the five women and held flags and tarps up so that mourners walking past wouldn't see the signs saying "God hates fags," "fag vets" and "America is doomed."

It's enough to make me want to buy a Harley.

While Westboro's congregation remains stable at around 100 people - most of whom are the extended family of founder Fred Phelps . . .

"Stable" is the last adjective I'd use to describe those dirtbags.

. . . the ranks of the Patriot Guard Riders has swelled to more than 16,000 in just a few months.

The Patriot Guard Riders are to be commended for their actions — as well as for their restraint. I'm not sure I could keep myself from punching Fred Phelps or any of his followers in the face. Or beating them with a tire iron. Some people just need to be horsewhipped. Tar and feathers might be useful, as well.

This country needs an occasional display of righteous anger... and at the moment, I can't imagine a more worthwhile reason.

More analysis at Ace of Spades. **Naughty language warning is in effect.**

When I was a somewhat younger man — pretty much still a kid, really — I decided on a military career.

There was no single reason for that decision; rather, it was the product of the cumulative influences on my life up to that point.

That my grandfather had been a soldier played no small part in my decision, but other factors encouraged the idea.

I enrolled in JROTC in high school — a move guaranteed to make me unpopular in the years following Vietnam. I went off to college to continue with ROTC, but dropped out due to my extreme dislike of going to school.

After a couple of years of working hum-drum jobs and trying (unsuccessfully) to get re-enthused about the idea of college, I finally did what I ought to have done in the first place: I enlisted in the Army. I did so with the full intent to make a career of it, to stay in uniform as long as Uncle Sam would have me.

Naturally, after basic training I was sent off to school. This, however, was language school, for which I seem to have had some real talent. After a year of Basic Korean (graduating with honors, thankyouverymuch) and nine more months of Military Intelligence training, I finally ended up at my first permanent duty station, the 102nd MI Battalion, 2nd Infantry Division, at Camp Hovey in Korea.

Duty in the 2nd ID was considered a hardship tour; unlike duty in Germany, soldiers couldn't bring their families, or cars, or indeed much of anything. Consequently, assignments were for only one year. I found that I enjoyed the duty there, though, and extended my tour by a year, and then by an additional six months. While in Korea, I reenlisted for an additional six years. I knew my decision to be a "lifer" was the right one. I could imagine no other life. I earned my Sergeant's stripes in Korea, as well.

Eventually, though, I wanted to come back stateside for a bit of a "civilization break" — not that Korea was uncivilized, but it just wasn't America. As I was making my plans to return, Iraq invaded Kuwait. Transfers were frozen... but my timing was good — the freeze began two weeks after I left the 102nd.

Being a Korean linguist in a unit (107th MI Bn, 7th ID) tasked for rapid deployment to Korea meant there was no chance I'd be sent to the Gulf. Indeed, when there was a call for volunteers with security clearances, we "Koreans" were expressly ordered not to volunteer. It's an odd thing, wanting to go to a war, but I think the motivation was the desire to put years of training to use in a real live mission. As it happened, though, only non-linguists (analysts and the like) were allowed to volunteer for Gulf War duty, and perhaps half a dozen of my friends went and returned.

Shortly after the ceasefire in Iraq, in the Spring of '91, our unit had what we referred to as a "Mandatory Fun" day — no motor pool duty, no training, just a day for troops to bring their families onto the post, to have a cookout, and to play a little softball.

I was pitching. I don't remember for sure, but I couldn't have been doing too well in the position. One batter got a big piece of one of my pitches, sending a line drive low and to my right. As I twisted and lunged to try to spear the ball with my gloved left hand, there was a small *-pop-*... and my Army career was over.

I had torn some ligaments and herniated a disk in my lower back, an injury which still plagues me with an occasional week in bed and with more frequent sciatic pain. It took a year and a half to figure it out, but from that day on I was no longer capable of fully functioning as a soldier. In a profession that demands physical fitness, I could no longer keep up. In September of '92, I was a civilian again.

Maybe if something had gone differently, maybe if I'd been held over in Korea for a few more months, maybe if I hadn't volunteered to pitch that day, maybe if I'd been a better pitcher, I'd have remained in the Army for the full 20 years.

Today would have been my retirement day.

I miss being in the Army; I think about it every day. I often wonder where I would be and what I'd be doing if I was still in the service. Some of the finest people I've ever been privileged to know were those with whom I served, and if I have one regret it's that I've kept in touch with so few of them.

Congressman John Murtha (D-PA) made rather a big splash this past week by very publicly "changing" his mind about the course of the war in Iraq — changing it to the same position he's held since last year, if not earlier. We already know this, of course, from a number of reports.

Murtha served honorably in the Marines, initially on active duty, and retiring from the Reserves in 1990, and is often described as a hawkish Democrat.

From the congressman's biography, I note that he has been in the House since 1974. Hmmm.

Murtha had a total of 37 years in the Marines, active and reserve. He had some number of years on active duty — his bio doesn't make it clear, but let's call it 12 years. I have no doubt that his years in uniform were spent completely honorably, and we know he was awarded the Bronze Star for valor during his tour in Vietnam. His service to the country cannot and should not be denigrated.

On the other hand, he has been a full-time Democrat congressman for more than 30 years.

Murtha has spent perhaps twice as much time in a suit as in a uniform. Which wardrobe, do you then suppose, has had more influence on his public pronouncements about the war?

I never met my grandfather.

He served as an artilleryman in France in the First World War. He brought mementos home with him — some french coins, his rifle sharpshooter badge, a set of Captain's bars, his gas mask, his helmet, and others. Most of these items hang on the wall in my home, reminders of a man I never knew.

He served, came home, married, had three kids, died young, and was buried among fellow soldiers on the Presidio of San Francisco.

He never knew that decades later there would be another SGT Russell Emerson.

Thanks, granddad. I wish I could have known you.

At the office where I work, there are large TVs situated around the open bays and tuned to CNN (but muted, fortunately) so that most us us can see what's going on in the world. This is actually useful, professionally, since when a natural disaster occurs anywhere in the world, our customer networks are likely to be affected. Having hundreds of network nodes disappear over the course of a weekend is more easily explainable if you realize that there is, say, a hurricane coming onshore in Louisiana.

So the other night, we noted the news story of pirates thwarted off the coast of Somalia, and were talking about that part of the world. The subject of Black Hawk Down came up, and the conversation ultimately migrated to other books and films before we got on the topic of Hal Moore's and Joe Galloway's We were Soldiers Once...And Young. I and the Marine veteran in the office educated our coworkers a bit, and then the conversation moved along, but not before we touched on the story of Rick Rescorla on 9/11.

Almost serendipitously, then, Greyhawk of the Mudville Gazette today tells us that the 40th anniversary of the Battle of Ia Drang is coming up next week, with veterans of the battle gathering to remember their brothers in arms and the events that have earned them a place in the history books.

Boston Herald writer and editor Jules Crittenden wrote a remarkable article about a couple of the men who came through the battle, particularly about SGT John Eade. The entirety of said piece not fitting the space constraints of a newspaper, Mr. Crittenden has graciously allowed Greyhawk to publish the whole thing: I Am Going To Die Well.

Our troops then and now are not nameless automatons whose deaths and injuries are to be tallied as on a scoreboard. Each has a name, and each has a story. Thanks, Mr. Crittenden, for telling us more of those stories, lest we forget.

In the aftermath of Katrina, one man decided to do something to help. He didn't just write a check. He loaded up a deuce-and-a-half truck and drove to Louisiana.

Read his incredible story.

(via Kim du Toit)

Beth of Yeah, Right, Whatever took a little road trip Monday...

... to Crawford, TX.

Someone recently asked me why more pro-WoT Gold Star Families don't speak up (against the group at Camp Casey, and against the anti-war protesters in general). I've been thinking about it, and (though R hasn't confirmed it) I think I have an idea. Most Gold Star Families, the ones who believe in what their children/spouses were doing with their lives, just want to be left in peace to mourn. They have faith in our country, and in the mission their family member was on. They don't want to be part of a movement.

Read about her trip here.

There's one particular thing that strikes me about the entire Cindy Sheehan to-do: the invasion of Iraq began over two years ago, and it's taken this long for the hardcore moonbat Left to find a Gold Star mother who would front for them in a very public way.

There are approximately 1,800 mothers who have lost a son or daughter* in Iraq, and Michael Moore's Marching Moonbat Mob has been able to find one mother willing to seek such notoriety.†

I'll be generous and allow that the Left might have 100 or more such parents to trot out on demand. The numbers nevertheless speak for themselves.

More (and more ably done) commentary here, here, here, here, and here. Particularly noteworthy is the post at Iraq the Model.

* They are sons and daughters, but most assuredly not children. The loaded question "would you send your child to die?" is disingenuous on every level. They are neither children nor chattel, and they are not sent in order to die. Every person serving in the military is a volunteer, and though we know some will inevitably die in service to their country — in combat, in accidents — "we purpose not their deaths when we purpose their services."

If I had a son of military age, I would be proud beyond my ability to describe, if he were to choose to serve his country in the military.

† At last count there were approximately 60 families involved with Gold Star Families for Peace, but none who have allowed themselves to be used by the anti-American Left to quite the extent Cindy Sheehan has.

I don't go in much for Hollywood "fan-dom." Entertainers are (or should be) just that: people hired to entertain us, not people over whom to swoon. [I'd consider making an exception for Emily Procter.]

There have, however, been a few entertainers – actors, athletes, and so on – I've admired for one reason or another. For as long as I can remember, Jimmy Stewart was one of those.

Was it because I enjoyed every single film of his I ever saw? Maybe that played into it... but I've enjoyed every Errol Flynn movie I've seen, and I am not an Erroll Flynn fan, as such. More likely, it was because I learned early on that Stewart had set aside his Hollywood career during World War 2 to be a B-17 pilot – a decidedly hazardous occupation. Other things I learned about his off-screen life only reinforced my conception of the man.

[By purest coincidence, Stewart and my father died on the same day: July 2, 1997. Because of that, I feel what would be considered an irrational connection to the man. I have this mental picture of Dad and Jimmy meeting up at the Pearly Gates....]

Now, new revelations that Stewart was doing a bit of work for the FBI – in an era when there really were communists trying to take over Hollywood – only adds to the high regard in which I hold him (despite the article's obvious negative slant.)

There really were communists in Hollywood. They really were trying to take over. They really were enemies of America.

Too many people have forgetten that.

Now we have Oliver Stone, Michael Moore and Sean Penn.

What we could really use is another Jimmy Stewart.

(via Ace.)

(More at PoliPundit.)

^{[This post was originally published 21Jun05. Due to the topicality today, I thought I'd bump it up.]
[There are updates - see below.]}

Neat-o. An actual lefty koolaid drinker, right here on my very own site.

Now, I wouldn't be surprised if someone from the anti-American anti-war camp had found this site accidentally — it happens all the time, and some occasionally drop a turd or two in the comments — but this fellow actually came here from my mini-bio page at BlogsForBush. He came here looking for a fight to pick.

As is so often the case with the anti-American anti-war crowd, he rolled out what he thought would be a rhetorical nuke: the tired and discredited "chickenhawk" argument — questioning my "credentials," my qualification to offer opinions about the war. I guess the obvious military theme here escaped his notice, and I called him on it.

Not content to leave well enough alone, however, he decided to leave another steaming pile in the comments. I figured it deserved an up-front response. I know it will fail utterly to convince him, as he apparently arrived at his current opinions shortly before turning off his brain, but a response is nonetheless warranted.

Read on and, as always, feel free to comment.

If you've never read Scott Ott's Scrappleface for the funny stuff, you don't know what you're missing.

But if you've never read it when he's making a serious point, shame on you.

I think it's an affront to their memory that we have a tax on the books in this country today that says if you work and earn some money and you pay your income tax on it, and you try to give it to your kids or your family — the natural object of your bounty — you're going to get taxed again.

— Lieutenant Lynn "Buck" Compton, one of the Band of Brothers

In honor of the 61st anniversary of D-Day and the beginning of the end of the Third Reich, Lieutenant Compton made an appearance on Fox and Friends this morning. As well as telling some of his own story, he has an issue he stands for. He laid his life on the line for this country. He deserves the courtesy of a respectful hearing.

I've tried, thanks to the DVR, to make a decent transcript of the entirety of LT Compton's appearance on the program. A generation is passing away; things like this should not disappear down the memory hole.

Via Sir George at Emperor Misha's place:

Lawmaker Wants Lower Soldier Drinking Age

One Wisconsin lawmaker figures if the U.S. military trusts 19-year-olds with a $10 million tank, then the state should trust them with a beer.

State Rep. Mark Pettis, a Republican who served in the Navy, is pushing a bill that would drop the drinking age to 19 for Wisconsin soldiers — but only if the federal government agrees it will not yank an estimated $50 million a year in highway aid.

A federal law ties federal highway dollars to compliance by the states with the required drinking age of 21.

"We're treating these young men and women as adults when they're at war. But we treat them like teenagers when they're here in the states," he said.

Now, I'm not exactly a proponent of the idea that teens, in general, are just as smart or wise as those of us who have been around the block so many times we know the only parking spot that's free.* Indeed, I've always had an extremely poor opinion of teenagers, even when I was one myself.

But I think it is not altogether unreasonable to extend all the privileges of full majority to anyone who has [honorably] completed a certain amount of time or reached a level of training in the military services. By volunteering to serve, and then by completing basic training (or maybe six months or a year of service), one has demonstrated a level of maturity that will not be attained by many people who are several years older.

Go on — just try to tell me that a college junior or senior is necessarily more mature than a Marine on his first duty assignment, merely because of a date on a birth certificate. That Marine, or airman, sailor, coastie or soldier has accepted the adult responsibilities attendant with service to his country, and deserves to be treated like an adult. He has earned it.

And by "privileges of full majority," I don't mean just the drinking age. I also refer to the rights protected by the 2nd Amendment. Why should a soldier — trained in the use and safe handling of very deadly weapons — be denied the right to purchase a handgun before his 21st birthday?

To deny those rights due merely to age is a dangerous precedent. Why the arbitrary cut-off at 21? Why not 25 or 30? Or, heck, why allow anyone to buy a handgun at all? When an arbitrary standard such as age (beyond the attainment of legal majority) is used as a determining