Tonight I met several military bloggers I follow and have heard about and follow:
David Marron of Thunder Run
Commander Salamander
Greyhawk and Mrs. Greyhawk
Troy Bouhammer
Major Chuck Zeigenfuss
Mary Ripley who is putting Navy History on line at the US Naval Institute
Veteran of four wars, four enlistments, four branches: Air Force, Army, Army Reserve, Army National Guard. I am both an AF (Air Force) veteran and as Veteran AF (As Fuck)
Friday, April 9, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Friendship and the Army
Tonight I was at an awards dinner at work. I sat with three investment managers who sponsored a table at the event. We talked about Iraq and the good and bad of serving in the Army. When I mentioned friendship, they knew right away at least one reason why men join and stay in the military.
Most modern men, unless they have a dangerous hobby or join the Army, have no friends. At least no friends in any sense that does not beggar the definition of friendship. One of the men said right away, "In my business I have to know my clients well to advise them." He said he meets many of his clients when they are middle-aged and have enough wealth to need management advice. "I ask how many friends they have made in the last year then tell them not to bother answering. I know already. The number is zero."
Because soldiers share hardship they get to know each other in a way that mechanics, cooks and office managers will never know each other. Cops and firefighters have friends. Soldiers have friends.
None of these men had served in the military, but they understood why soldiers volunteer for multiple deployments. Usually the conversations at awards dinners are light and funny. People who see each other only occasionally or who never met sit together for a couple of hours. They exchange stories and jokes--the jokes improve with each glass of wine.
Tonight's conversation was the most intense dinner conversation I can remember in a very long time. It reminded me yet again how much fun it can be to meet and talk with curious, bright people who can ask thoughtful questions.
Most modern men, unless they have a dangerous hobby or join the Army, have no friends. At least no friends in any sense that does not beggar the definition of friendship. One of the men said right away, "In my business I have to know my clients well to advise them." He said he meets many of his clients when they are middle-aged and have enough wealth to need management advice. "I ask how many friends they have made in the last year then tell them not to bother answering. I know already. The number is zero."
Because soldiers share hardship they get to know each other in a way that mechanics, cooks and office managers will never know each other. Cops and firefighters have friends. Soldiers have friends.
None of these men had served in the military, but they understood why soldiers volunteer for multiple deployments. Usually the conversations at awards dinners are light and funny. People who see each other only occasionally or who never met sit together for a couple of hours. They exchange stories and jokes--the jokes improve with each glass of wine.
Tonight's conversation was the most intense dinner conversation I can remember in a very long time. It reminded me yet again how much fun it can be to meet and talk with curious, bright people who can ask thoughtful questions.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Voting Over--4th Place
Thanks to everyone who voted for me. I had nearly 100 votes and am very happy to finish fourth--happy just to be in the final five. I will be at the Milblogging conference on Friday evening and Saturday. I will be blogging from the conference. It should be interesting.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Voting Underway--I am Fourth of Five. . .
. . .Which I am very happy about. The other Army finalists are two majors and two E-8s, a master sergeant and a first sergeant. While I am definitely the oldest member of the group, the other bloggers are much my senior in rank and (current) military experience (Although I was a sergeant before they were housebroken.) If you have not voted and would like to, go to www.milblogging.com and register. If you have any trouble, email JP at milblogging@gmail.com and he will get you registered. Voting ends in 40 hours!!!
In other news I was just interviewed for a Florida-based show called Growing Bolder. I talked with the very enthusiastic hosts about the Army, breaking my neck, adoption and racing.
In other news I was just interviewed for a Florida-based show called Growing Bolder. I talked with the very enthusiastic hosts about the Army, breaking my neck, adoption and racing.
Monday, April 5, 2010
My Dad on Political Violence
My Dad's stories about World War 2 were a big part of my childhood. They were not the stories I saw on Combat! on TV or read in comics like Sgt. Rock or Sgt. Nick fury and His Howling Commandos. My Dad enlisted two years before World War 2 actually started and would have gotten out in December of 1941, but no one was discharged from the Army after December 7, 1941. My father barely made the enlistment cut-off age of 35 at the time he enlisted. Since he was so old (35 when the war started) and had experience working in a warehouse, the Army sent him to Officer's Candidate School. My Dad was 15 years older than the average 2nd lieutenant, so he never went overseas. His first assignment was as a platoon leader in a Black maintenance company in the segregated Army of World War.
Shortly after he was assigned to Camp Shenango in PA, he was the officer on duty on a weekend. That weekend there was a race riot. My Dad went out of the headquarters and found himself in front of an armed mob. He said the young soldier in front had "a 30 Ought 6 aimed right at my belly button." My father told the soldier with the rifle to "take it easy." Then he heard someone in the back say "shoot the white . . . " The words in the rest of the description got coarser as I got older. I'll assume Motherf##cker was the used at some point.
Hearing the cowards in the back egging the man in front on, my Dad spoke to the shaking young man in front with the rifle. "If you pull that trigger the MPs are going to shoot you. If they don't shoot you they'll hang you. Nothing will happen to the son of a bitch in the back telling you what to do." The soldier put down his rifle. My Dad ordered the men back to their barracks and as far as I know never said anything further about the incident. He commanded a black company before being reassigned to Fort Indiantown Gap and a German Prisoner of War Camp in Reading. He kept in touch with some of his sergeants after the war.
Lately I have heard several people say that the Liberty Tree is watered with the blood of Patriots. When someone on the radio says this to his audience, you can bet he means their blood, not his. My Dad was a Massachusetts Republican as long as I can remember and would still be one if he were alive now (He would be 104). But he was a man who never backed down from a fight and had no use for "rabble rousers" the kind of people who start trouble and let others take the risks.
I must have heard that story 50 times growing up. I don't know why, but I did not think of that particular story until a few days ago, but it does help me understand why I dislike the current Patriot movement. Talk Radio hosts by definition "lead" from the back, not from the front. I just returned from serving in Iraq with an aviation task force in which all of the seniors officers including the commander flew missions--they led from the cockpit, not just from their desks.
Shortly after he was assigned to Camp Shenango in PA, he was the officer on duty on a weekend. That weekend there was a race riot. My Dad went out of the headquarters and found himself in front of an armed mob. He said the young soldier in front had "a 30 Ought 6 aimed right at my belly button." My father told the soldier with the rifle to "take it easy." Then he heard someone in the back say "shoot the white . . . " The words in the rest of the description got coarser as I got older. I'll assume Motherf##cker was the used at some point.
Hearing the cowards in the back egging the man in front on, my Dad spoke to the shaking young man in front with the rifle. "If you pull that trigger the MPs are going to shoot you. If they don't shoot you they'll hang you. Nothing will happen to the son of a bitch in the back telling you what to do." The soldier put down his rifle. My Dad ordered the men back to their barracks and as far as I know never said anything further about the incident. He commanded a black company before being reassigned to Fort Indiantown Gap and a German Prisoner of War Camp in Reading. He kept in touch with some of his sergeants after the war.
Lately I have heard several people say that the Liberty Tree is watered with the blood of Patriots. When someone on the radio says this to his audience, you can bet he means their blood, not his. My Dad was a Massachusetts Republican as long as I can remember and would still be one if he were alive now (He would be 104). But he was a man who never backed down from a fight and had no use for "rabble rousers" the kind of people who start trouble and let others take the risks.
I must have heard that story 50 times growing up. I don't know why, but I did not think of that particular story until a few days ago, but it does help me understand why I dislike the current Patriot movement. Talk Radio hosts by definition "lead" from the back, not from the front. I just returned from serving in Iraq with an aviation task force in which all of the seniors officers including the commander flew missions--they led from the cockpit, not just from their desks.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
I'm In the Final Five--Thanks to Friends and Kappa Alpha Theta
My daughter Lisa (far right, first standing row) is a freshman at the University of Richmond--Go Spiders!--and a member of Kappa Alpha Theta, Epsilon Psi Chapter. This afternoon, I had ten nominations in the Milbloggie Award contest and was barely in third place. At the close of voting tonight I had 30 nominations putting me solidly in 2nd place with voting beginning now. Part of the reason I jumped so fast in the standings was Lisa asked her sisters in Theta to vote for her Dad's blog. A dozen responded.
Thank You to Kappa Alpha Theta, Epsilon Psi Chapter, University of Richmond.
My daughter Lauren (middle of middle row, black shirt) sent text messages to her soccer teammates at Juniata College and I got more votes.
Thanks to Juniata Women's Soccer.
Thanks also to Jack, Meredith, Akinoluna, Kristine, Brigitte, Sarah, David and everyone else who nominated me.
Now I need you to go back vote! Winners announced Wednesday, prizes awarded at the Milblogging conference on Saturday of this week.
Thank You to Kappa Alpha Theta, Epsilon Psi Chapter, University of Richmond.
My daughter Lauren (middle of middle row, black shirt) sent text messages to her soccer teammates at Juniata College and I got more votes.
Thanks to Juniata Women's Soccer.
Thanks also to Jack, Meredith, Akinoluna, Kristine, Brigitte, Sarah, David and everyone else who nominated me.
Now I need you to go back vote! Winners announced Wednesday, prizes awarded at the Milblogging conference on Saturday of this week.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Milbloggie Update
Currently I am in third place in the nominations with 10. The top two blogs have 39 and 22 nominations. Fourth place is right behind me with 9 nominations, fifth place has six. Only the top five move to the final voting round. If you have not nominated my blog, please help me out in a very close race.
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