A Scary Thought

Friday, I established some stat tracking for this blog and boy was I surprised. Since yesterday over 80 people have read what I had to say. That scares the freakin heck out of me (particularly after my don't have children out of wedlock rant). I considered adding a comment forum but now that I know people read this, I don't think I wanna know what they say about it (fragile male ego and all). It seems that most of my visitors come from LT Smash' site. I appreciate the link. I have been reading LT's (or I guess I should say LCDR, have you had your field grade lobotomy yet? It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Always said it wouldn't happen to me, JOPA forever, but now I catch myself doing stupid field grade tricks all the time) work for sometime (Never heard of the Instapundit though). The title of his site caught my attention as I am a Simpsons fanatic (One day Homer shall show us the way). He is a very talented and entertaining writer, if you have time you should check out his site. Unfortunately it does not have anything to do with The Simpsons. I appreciate the traffic. It is nice to be heard even if it is intimidating. Another blog I particularly enjoy is Trying To Grok. This blog is published by an Army wife. She seems to be an articulate and well read lady. Anyone who appreciates Heinlein has to be on the ball. My 7 year old loved Heinlein's Starship Troopers (The book. Yes, Virginia it was a great book before it was a cheesy movie. I recommend that everyone turn off their T.V., visit their local library and READ A GOOD BOOK!!!!) The only advice I have for her is PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR HUSBAND!!!!!. Particularly now, because one day you might have children and you won't have time for anything but keeping them from hurting themselves and destroying everything around them. We husbands need copious amounts of care and attention. If you have time I recommend you visiting her site as well. That's it for my shameless plugs.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

Happy Is The Day A Sailor Gets His Pay

WOOOHOOOO!!!!! All that back pay that accrued while PSD was trying to un-dick the mess they made of my pay accounts has finally hit. What ya know, we're solvent (for a day or two), who woulda thunk it? I could get used to getting that much in my pay check twice a month. After all, I do like money. If I had more of it I would role around in it naked. Can't wait to see my LES (Leave and Earning Statement) 'cause the amount owed and the amount paid probably don't agree. There is always another windmill to tilt. Now, if I can just get the system to poop out those two outstanding travel claims, I just might be able to make my two Boys tuition payment (I hope, I hope, I hope). In fact, keeping the kids in the school of our choice, as opposed to the government operated school of "their" choice is one of the major reasons I agreed to come out to this African resort paradise. When you rack and stack up all the special pays: area pay, hostile fire/imminent danger pay, combat zone tax exclusion, partial per diem, and the lack anything to spend my disposable cash on, the extra cash pretty much should cover their tuition till the end of the school year. All bets are off next year though. After all, there are only so many wars available to finance my little ones education.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

Christmas In The Field

Christmas in the Field at Endview Plantation should be in full swing today. My oldest son passed his last spelling test, with colors flying I might add, and he earned the right to go to the reenactment and see today's Battle of Fort Generic. It is usually more of a skirmish than a battle since there usually isn't more than a few hundred reenactors on the field for this event. I could do with a cup of that Apple Cider that I know is brewing on the fire but I find I am sweating enough today. My boys love going to the reenactments, my little princess seems kind of ambivalent towards the whole thing, but the boys are die hards. In a year or two my oldest may be old enough to serve as a drummer provided he keeps working on his drumming. I sure he will, he likes beating on things. For my Bride, reenactments are a different story. She dreads them. I go running off with my regiment disappearing into the past and leave her back in the 21st century minding Chaos, Mayhem, and Entropy. It is particularly challenging if she screws her courage to the sticking point and takes the Children to see the battles. God Bless her, I don't think I could handle the challenge of riding herd on me and my issue (life with me an mine would drive anyone to distraction) with the poise, grace, and understanding that my Bride has displayed everyday of our marriage and parenthood. Thank you my Darlin' I am sure the little ones will enjoy the show today. Since they probably won't remember to say "thank you", I will say it for them. Thank you! (They had better remember to thank her, we are raising them to be courteous)

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

A Shift In Values

Cultural values change with time. It would seem that I have been left behind and I certainly don't want to catch up. I was sitting down in the mess hall tonight devouring my Kellog, Brown and Root Halliburton provided chow (Thank you Mr. Vice President Cheney, excellent as always!) next to a couple young Devil Dogs. Both these kids couldn't have been over twenty. They were discussing home and family and that caught my attention. The conversation went something like this:

Devil Dog 1: "So you married?"
Devil Dog 2: "No Man, but I got kids. A boy and a Girl"
Devil Dog 1: "Same Woman?"

The thing about this conversation that really resonated was just how lightly the last question, "Same Woman?", was asked. I didn't hear the answer and I'm glad I didn't. When I was their age, or any age for that matter, I would not even consider fathering children with a woman unless she was my wife. I certainly wouldn't consider fathering many children by different women out of wedlock. A man just does not behave that way. That is the behavior of animal not a man. I don't know either of these young Devil Dogs, they may be the most locked on Marines ever to be hatched, but from the snippet of conversation that I overheard over the dinner table, I judge these kids to be failures as Men, Fathers, and Servicemen. All three of these things that I have mentioned, Manhood, Fatherhood, and being a Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine have some common requirements. These are HONOR, COURAGE, COMMITMENT, CHARACTER, INTEGRITY. Any man who goes about creating children but failing to be their father and in the process making mothers but failing to be a husband, certainly, IN MY OPINION, has no honor, courage or commitment and that behavior calls into question his strength of character and integrity. That is not the kind of person I want to bet my life on. Any society that legitimizes bearing children out of wedlock by multiple partners needs to do a round turn and get back on track. I believe in monogamy, marriage first, yard apes second. I believe that being a husband is a commitment that must be supported by honor, courage, character, and integrity. Marriage is a life long commitment as is fatherhood. If you are not prepared to commit your life to it then don't do it. I believe fatherhood is a commitment that must be supported with honor, courage (any one who has ever turned their back on a toddler knows courage), character and integrity. Finally, I believe service in the cloth of the nation is a commitment that must be supported with honor, courage, character and integrity. Any fool can plant the seed and make a child but only a man can be a father that is committed and has character, integrity honor and courage to raise his child and install the moral compass that will guide that child through the development of his own honor, courage, commitment, character and personal integrity. I also believe that in order to be a good father, you must first learn to be a husband. My values have apparently been abandoned by our society. So be it, they suit me just fine.

I want to add this disclaimer: I don't know those two Devil Dogs who were talking over their chow. One woman may have indeed been the mother of his children and he may intend to marry her. They may have been outstanding Marines. My entire post is based upon MY reaction to the casual way one very young Devil Dog asked another if his children were issued from one woman.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

I Like Fridays

Fridays are pretty good day round here. Most sections in the command take Friday off: logisticians never take a day off but we do take a slow start on Friday. It is more like a "casual Friday at the office" rather than a day off for us. I get to sleep in, go to work in civilian cloths (at first that wasn't a big deal to me but now it seems to be pretty important to me to wear something other than a uniform once a week. I don't know why, just is. Go figure?) maybe even watch a movie after dinner. It is a good day. The only draw back to Friday is that it Malaria pill day. That means I will toss and turn all night tonight and have dreams that the Farley Brothers would find strange. One of the Yahoos in the Four shop was commenting on how they are trying to link Meflequin (sp?) with brain deterioration. That got my attention. I knew they suspected it of causing psychotic episodes, but actual brain deterioration, that might be serious. I can handle a little psychotic behavior (My Bride would tell you that psychotic behavior would not be to far from my status quo). After all, I have always been perfectly willing to do whatever my Ham and Cheese Sandwich tells me to do. However, I can't afford to loose anymore brain cells, they are in short supply. I like to think that our Docs would not let us use anything that would turn us into raving lunatics, but their is always that nagging doubt in the back of my head (Maybe that's not doubt, maybe it is Meflequin eating my brain cells). Who knows, can't worry about that today cause its Friday!

Whoops, I digressed again. What was I talking about. Oh, yes, the joys of Friday. I managed to sleep in till about 8 this morning before the incessant beeping of construction equipment in reverse drove me from my rack. We got chow in last night (the provisions resupply flight seems to arrive at night most of the time) so the forklifts were running, rattling and banging all night last night taking the chow to the reefers (which for some reason are right in front of my hooch. Note to self: Fire my realestate agent). No big deal, it is a small price to pay to have actual cheese in the Ham and Cheese sandwiches. Have I mentioned just how much I like cheese? When you couple it with Ham and bread, it is just magic. I think I have mentioned it before, oh well. What actually drove me out of the hooch this morning was the public works crews trying to run prime power to the reefers. On the surface that is a good thing because maybe the incessant roar of the generators that power the reefers right in front of my hooch will be permanently silenced. WHOOHOOO! Peace at last, Peace at last. (It will be poetic irony if I find I can't sleep with out the 75 decibel roar to lull me to sleepy land). However, fear for my own hide that convinced me I needed to get up and relocate from the rack to the gym. They (they being local skinny contractors) were trying to maneuver a backhoe and a 20K all terrain fork truck in the confined space between my hooch and the reefers. I was convinced that if I didn't get up and get out immediately, then something large and industrial would come through the side or roof of my hooch.

I have to close this post now. My Ham and Cheese sandwich is demanding that I get back to work.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

Joyous Holiday News

On or about this day (not really sure with timezones and etc.) a daughter has been born to dear friends of mine. To Dave and Carla my most heartfelt congratulations. There is nothing more delightful than you own children!! To young Abigail welcome and congratulations, you could not have chosen two better parents! I'm sure that, in time, you will actually be able to forgive them for letting you be born outside of Texas, remember, it was not their fault. Grow healthy and strong young Abigail and once again WELCOME!

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

A Plague Of Biblical Proportions

After I finished my work out today I exited the gym and found myself beset with one of the Plagues God set upon pharaoh: FROGS!!!! The freakin' french were everywhere. Just who let those yahoos in here. Obviously, the Force Protection Officer is in serious need of a "pink belly" and we need a more secure perimeter.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

The Holiday Season

Christmas season is the hardest time to be deployed. I love to decorate the house and the tree with my little ones and my
Bride. I enjoy staying up late, sitting in front of the fireplace and just enjoying my Brides company. Out here December is just another month, a hot, humid, muddy month at that. I know after I make it through the holiday season it is all down hill. It is just hard to be gone during this time of year.

Back home I would be getting ready for Christmas in the Field at Endview Plantation. This is one of my favorite reenactments. The goal is to represent troops in winter garrison during the peninsular Campaign of 1862. We do reenact skirmishes but they are essentially "the battle of fort generic". The best part of the event is sitting around the camp chatting with my messmates. Sgt Rick usually sets a big kettle of mulled apple cider on fire and somebody always has the fixin's for a cobbler. It is a very relaxing time and the last event of the reenactment season for the Lone Star Rifles. The one drawback is that it is usually pretty darn cold. (Note to self: Shoot Yankee, take his overcoat)

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD

The Rain In Africa

It rained last night and it was an incredibly violent thunderstorm. I became aware of it at about 0300 this morning when a thunderclap just about bounced me out of my rack. Imagine, if you will, eight drowsy, disoriented, field grade officers dressed only in underwear, in the pitch black scrambling to find our K-pots and body armor. First thought was incoming and we were heading to the bunkers, then we realized it was just a thunderstorm (if it had been incoming I am confident none of us would have made out of the tent. As I think back on it I can hear the background circus music in my head. The professional expression for the situation is: Cluster Fuck). While the thunder boomers were going off I could not believe the volume of rain coming down. Looking out the door of our hooch, it was like a waterfall. It tapered off to a light rain in about 20 minutes and that died out about mid-day. The camp is a giant mud bog right now. Walked to the shop through ankle deep mud. When the sun finally did come out, the humidity jumped to about a bazillion percent. It is like it was at 140th Gettysburg magnified by about a factor of a hundred. Almost need gills to breath the air it is so wet. I think hot and dry was better, it probably won't rain again while I am here. Let's hope not. My hooch leaks.

P.S. Remember Pearl Harbor!

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD