The Gun Line MkIII

I’m a Christian.  I believe in that Jesus Christ died on the cross for my sins, and only through Him will my soul find salvation and a place in His Kingdom.  I believe that any faith group who bases its dogma on this premise is Christian as well.  I believe that the Roman Catholic Church was the original Christian church, and that the entire Protestant movement was caused not because there was anything wrong with a faith in Christ, but in the fact that there were too many human hands involved in the workings of the Church of Rome (because, as humans, we are imperfect, and our own agendas get in the way of our relationship with God and Christ.)  I believe that The Reformation was a wake-up call for all those who call themselves Christian, and that it actually opened more doors to the Faithful to enjoy their relationship with Our Savior.

I believe that God has a different plan for the Jewish faith, according to the Old Testament.  I don’t pretend to understand it, but I respect it – That’s between God and the Jews, and I have no place in it.

I also believe that when Jesus Christ said, “I am the Alpha and the Omega”, he meant that, after him, there would be no other prophets or emissaries from God.  He was the Last One – that’s it, period, end of story…

Any other faith professing anything otherwise is, well, suspect, as far as I’m concerned…

Yes, that includes the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, otherwise called the Mormons…  But, you know, the vast majority of Mormons I know don’t “rock the boat”, and pretty much every Mormon I know is polite, and they take care of each other.  I don’t know much about their faith, and, truth be told, that’s between them and God.  They don’t pose a threat, but they do involve themselves in good works, so I’m not going to either support or condemn them – They do their thing, and I’ll not say anything against them…

… And the Buddhists, but then, they seek deep inner peace, so they earn my respect.

… And the Native Americans, who were truly screwed, are trying to relearn their own historical spiritual path.  I do not subscribe to their beliefs, but I will respect them and wish them success.

… And even a certain Officer I know, who I dare to call friend, who is a student of the Art of Combat, and a man I would follow into the very gates of Hell in a heartbeat, who eschews any pretense of Religion…

These are examples of other faith groups that offer inspiration and a view “outside of the box”, but whose connection to the Divine I don’t contemplate.  (God doesn’t need me to concern myself with my neighbors – I’ve got enough work to do in my own House.)  Last I heard, they found a way to co-exist without running amok with AK-47s, blowing up everything in sight…

But in 632 AD, a man from the desert introduced the world to Islam.  From then on, this “religion” started on a path filled with blood, death, conquest, exploitation, and has become so muddied with human agendas that any spiritual purity or benefits has been lost.  Life is devalued; Peace is given lip service; Trust and faith vary according to the whims of the blowing winds; and fanatics have taken the bridge of the ship…

…All in a “religion” that sprouted some 600 years after The Son of God said: I am the Last.  Which tells me, according to my beliefs, that the whole idea of Islam is pretty much moot.  It cannot be quantified, and cannot be qualified as a religion, especially one that derives its source of power from the God of a promise (not a gift of Divinity) to Abraham, because the God of Abraham sent His Only Son to us, in the form of Jesus Christ, who said (as I wrote before) that he was the last.

(A reminder here, that God promised Abraham that he would be “the father of Nations”, true, but the only reason we are even concerned about Abraham is because one of his descendants was a young woman named Mary, who became a vessel into which the Holy Spirit – that would be God – placed His Only Son – that would be Jesus Christ – who, as I said, was the beginning and end of Divinity upon this Earth.  Any claims of divinity through any other source is dead wrong…)

I bring this topic to the fore in the light of the aftermath of the murders at Fort Hood, and the veil of political correctness that blinded so many people to the goals of a murdering sack of slime who stood upon the Faith of Islam and used it to apparently justify his actions and beliefs…

So Islam has no Divinity, came along after Christ issued the “end of mission” command as far as divine emissaries of God is concerned, and has proven itself to be a hotbed of bloodshed, violence, and has the unmitigated gall to demand that it be accepted…  Seems to me that it is a cult of lost souls who, like little spoiled children, scream and throw temper tantrums to get God’s attention.

Mohammad, however, was a sneaky bastard, and he put enough controls into play to ensure that all of the trappings of this cult were protected by pain of death.  (You can’t even smudge the leaves of a Koran, lest the whole Islamic world go up in flames, whereas the Bible is only a book – it is the message within that is the main focus, not the physical construct of pages…  Reeks of insecurity in the part of Mohammad, doesn’t it?)

Would somebody please tell me why we should even listen to these folks?

Has political correctness trumped God?

SGT B piping in front of B Company's T-Wall.

I’m going through my deployment pictures.  I guess it’s time to show what we did on this journey.

It’s a somber day, a day for deep thoughts…

For me,  it’s a day to gather with fellow vets, and accept the accolades of those whom we have defended, but also to remember those who cannot be here to stand with us.  I remember Tony Molino, and PFC Woodfork, and a score of others who passed through my life and have beat me to Saint Peter’s Golden Gates…

The day is gray, and I find myself not in the mood for celebration, but, instead, for reflection…

Yesterday, I attended the Veterans Day Program at Nine Mile Elementary School, and found my eyes “sweating” at the sweetly soft voices of a legion of youngsters singing songs iconic for the various times when our Armed Forces found themselves in harm’s way.  Today, I attended the Veterans Day program at the Spokane Veterans Arena, to be followed this evening by a dinner with the men and women of Point Man Ministries, a non-denominational veterans’ outreach ministry (sort of like the Forward Air Controllers for “Sky Six”)…

It’s a day for emotions, and I am a fellow whose emotions tend to run shallow at times – I expect that there will be some “eyeball leaking” going on as memories bubble up to the surface and break, allowing the healing to continue…

Part of me wants to hide…  To hide from my circumstances, to dig in and warn the whole world to back off.  Part of me wants to hide with a select few, and let them man the perimeter bunkers for a little while.  The responsible part of me, however, knows that to hide from the world is to admit defeat, and, worse, to allow life to continue on, with all of my responsibilities untended.  So I “ruck up” and move out, into the light, and meet the world, interact with it…

To my Brothers in the Corps, I wish you a Happy Birthday!

To my fellow vets, I say, “It is an honor to have stood the line with you.”

To those who were denied their due, I offer a sincere “Welcome Home!”

To those who have expressed gratitude for my service, I say “You are most welcome, and it has been my honor to serve.”

Finally, to those who still cling to the counter-culture of yesteryear, or live their lives in apathy or hostility towards veterans and their support teams, I say “Sod off, the lot of you – you’re welcome anyway…”

God bless…

(Oh, and regarding the tragic turn of events at Fort Hood:  I find that what I wish to say has been said by others, and I would only be echoing the sentiments of some of the more dynamic of the Milblog community’s operators- yes, THOSE “operators” – like Unca Jim…  And any original thoughts I have on the subject are illegal in most states, and they don’t allow me to own the weapons of sufficient caliber to best express myself, so I’m not even going to try… I have been guarding against allowing bad feelings to fester in my soul, but this one get put in the locker that contains the Beirut Bombing, 9/11, and a few others that I don’t want to let go…  Prayers for brothers and sisters, though.)

Joshua Ball performs incognito in a Washington D.C. subway.

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007…

The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:
The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat sitting on the floor in front of the violinist and, without stopping, continued to walk..

6 minutes:
A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously.  Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace.  The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the Metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities.

The questions raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:  If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…

How many other things are we missing?

The past two months have been frustrating for me.  I have been trying to land a job, but I don’t seem to have found the right “groove”.  I can write well, but that skill doesn’t seem to carry over to resumes or cover letters, apparently.  I am taking advantage of the programs offered by both the VA and the Employment Security Agency, but there was a question of how my schooling fitted into the mix, and so I haven’t received any unemployment benefits for three weeks, and the GI Bill money is beginning to run out.  It’s frustrating, but I’m not destitute, just unused to the uneven tempo.  There are many out there far worse off that I am, and I am thankful for the roof over my head, the food in my belly, the fact I paid off my truck when I could, and the love and support of friends and family.  To vent too very much would be selfish, but not to vent would be to bottle it up and make it fester, so just consider this a bit of house cleaning.

Of a more serious note, I have noticed that I get anxious in crowds.  The crowds in a local store triggered some anxiety, not so much “fight” than “flight”, and Phoenix saw it, and suggested that I get out of the store for a breath of fresh air.  It’s a little disconcerting – I have no idea where that came from, as there doesn’t seem to be a reason for it…  If it continues, I’m going to double-time to the various programs offered by the VA, and “get it looked at”.

The good news is that my overall stress is manageable; I’m not “self-medicating”, and I’m not depressed.  The path is just a little rocky right now, but it will all work out…

Halloween, my second most favorite time of the year…

I spent last Halloween in Kuwait, and all I have to show for it is one picture, of Specialist C., who wasn’t going to let the day go by unnoticed, regardless of being out in the middle of the desert…

Halloween in Kuwait.

THIS year, however, I had to have a little fun!

Enlisted the help of Jake and neighbor Sean, pulled the fur on and let ‘er rip!

I'm baaack...

The Zombies, going out for dinner…

Jake and Sean in character...

The Kat showed up, and it was a Kodak moment…

The wolf and the Kat... "Rules To Date My Daughter" just took a turn for the surreal...

We wrapped things up at about 2000:  Mission Accomplished!

Celebrating a successful "Haunt". Jake, Billy, Sean, and Levi...

Next year, I’m thinking a little bigger…  “Rockford’s Army of the Undead…”  It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Well, been home for almost two months now…

Since I got home, I really haven’t noticed any psychological after-effects of the deployment – but I didn’t experience anything “traumatic”, just a few rocket attacks that were too far away to really get my attention (exciting, yes, but not frightening)…  I don’t dive under mailboxes any deeper now than I did before we left (that behavior is a result of previous military experiences), so I think I got off lucky on that score.  My thoughts and prayers go out to the guys and gals who got a lot closer to the action than I did – THEY are the ones who need your powers of prayer, not me, I’m good, thanks…

Physically, I’ve got some VA Claims going on, two for conditions I believe were caused by the deployment, and a few where an existing condition was aggravated by the deployment, mostly falling under the category of “this is what happens when you try to keep up with folks half your age…”  Of all of them, the most worrisome is the tinnitus, which is to be expected when you live so close to the flight line that when the F-16s lift off – a pair of them, twice a day, for 10 months- the air around you crackles, and you can’t hold a shouted conversation with a fellow less than two feet away…

Emotionally, I’m doing okay…  I used a vast amount of the money from the deployment to buy the tools I will need for my education and a business project I plan on initiating about this time next year.  New desktop computer, because my old laptop needs a break…  Got the truck fixed, bought clothes, paid off bill and some expenses, stuff like that.  Maintaining overwatch on Jake, as he navigates the perils of adolescence, and keeping an eye on Katie Kat as she enters the rough waters of teenager-hood.  Trying to keep things cordial between KM6 and myself, and I think that we are being mostly successful, we’ve had more conversations filled with laughter than we have venom, which gives me hope.

I have enrolled in an Associates Degree Program for Business Administration, which I will most likely extend out to a Bachelor’s Degree, as my Montgomery GI Bill has been re-activated and will cover completely…

My support structure is very powerful, and I’m not really wanting for very much.  I’ve got a good roof over my head, food in my belly, a church to attend, friends who interact with me day by day – “normal” things that tell me that life goes on, well, “normally”, and that calms any demon in my soul.

And then there’s “Ice”..

Ice is a rescued dog.  She was left behind when a neighbor’s “guests” left in the middle of the night, leaving the dog tied under a bush.  The neighbor wasn’t prepared to deal with her, and asked if I could find a good home for her.  (I want to say, right now, that I am a sucker for a pretty face…)  A few days (and some extensive grooming later) and Ice has been welcomed into my home, and my heart.

But all is not beer and skittles at the Firebase…  The economy has taken its toll.  I had expected to find work long before now, but I just finished filing for unemployment, a step I never expected to take, but the coffers are beginning to look quite lean.  I’ve got to admit to a little exasperation…  I mean, here I am, fit, healthy, ready to work, with an impressive resume and strong work ethics, and I can’t attract the attention of an employer for love nor money, not if I want anything over and above a job that contains the phrase “Would you like fries with that?”

I realize that I could move, relocate to where the jobs are, but I don’t want to leave this place.  I certainly don’t want to leave my kids, my loved ones, or my hometown – if my reticence is my undoing, so be it, but there’s got to be something out there, I just haven’t tapped into it yet.  Hopefully, in a year, my project will kick off, and I will be fully solvent – to the point where not only cvan I walk to work, but I can employ a few of the folks in Rockford, which is something we – the town- really needs:  Local employers…

In the meantime, I’ve got to keep the lights on and the bills paid, so the search continues…

Keep me in your prayers, but know that everything is okay…  Not perfect, but much better than they could be, all things considered…

This was passed to me this morning…

I’m not the United Air Force’s biggest fan, but neither do I disparage the bravery and honorable service rendered by our youngest service.  So when this was passed along to me, I had to post it, because it speaks volumes in a few paragraphs, and really does make a body think.  Good on you, Colonel, and the United States Air Force!  Read on:

Luke AFB is west of Phoenix and is rapidly being surrounded by civilization that complains about the noise from the base and its planes, forgetting that it was there long before they were. A certain lieutenant colonel at Luke AFB deserves a big pat on the back. Apparently, an individual who lives somewhere near Luke AFB wrote the local paper complaining about a group of F-16s that disturbed his/her day at the mall.

When that individual read the response from a Luke AFB officer, it must Have stung quite a bit.

The complaint:

‘Question of the day for Luke Air Force Base:

Whom do we thank for the morning air show? Last Wednesday, at precisely 9:11 A.M, a tight formation of four F-16 jets made a low pass over Arrowhead Mall, continuing west over Bell Road at approximately 500 feet. Imagine our good fortune! Do the Tom Cruise-wannabes feel we need this wake-up call, or were they trying to impress the cashiers at Mervyns early bird special?

Any response would be appreciated.

The response:

Regarding ‘A wake-up call from Luke’s jets’ On June 15, at precisely 9:12 a.m., a perfectly timed four- ship fly by of F-1 6s from the 63rd Fighter Squadron at Luke Air Force Base flew over the grave of Capt. Jeremy Fresques. Capt Fresques was an Air Force officer who was previously stationed at Luke Air Force Base and was killed in Iraq on May 30, Memorial Day.

At 9 a. m. on June 15, his family and friends gathered at Sunland Memorial Park in Sun City to mourn the loss of a husband, son and friend. Based on the letter writer’s recount of the fly by, and because of the jet noise, I’m sure you didn’t hear the 21-gun salute, the playing of taps, or my words to the widow and parents of Capt. Fresques as I gave them their son’s flag on behalf of the President of the United States and all those veterans and servicemen and women who understand the sacrifices they have endured..

A four-ship fly by is a display of respect the Air Force gives to those who give their lives in defense of freedom. We are professional aviators and take our jobs seriously, and on June 15 what the letter writer witnessed was four officers lining up to pay their ultimate respects.

The letter writer asks, ‘Who m do we thank for the morning air show? The 56th Fighter Wing will make the call for you, and forward your thanks to the widow and parents of Capt Fresques, and thank them for you, for it was in their honor that my pilots flew the most honorable formation of their lives.

Only 2 defining forces have ever offered to die for you….Jesus Christ and the American Soldier.

One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.

Lt. Col. Grant L. Rosensteel, Jr.

Amen, Colonel Rosensteel, amen…

Yep, took the plunge and enrolled in school to go after an AA in Business Administration (which I may extend out to a Bachelor’s.  It’s an online university, a Veteran-friendly one.

I’m in partnership with another entrepreneur, generating a business plan that we want to start up here in Rockford in about a year or so that will hopefully provide local employment not just for us, but for a few of the folks around here who could desperately use it.

So here’s the question:  Are there any pearls of advise you could offer?  I’m hoping got work full time, knock out the schooling, and use what I am learning to grow this local business.  We’re researching all of the business options, grants, loans, etc., for a rural, agricultural veteran-owned business, so I’m really looking for “lessons learned” from folks who have done this before.

While I’m not looking for handouts, if anyone knows of any grant programs I could apply for to ease the financial burden, I’d appreciate a heads up!

So, here we go, getting edumacated!

Another one passes…

Patrick Swazye succumbed to pancreatic cancer at the age of 57.  He was surrounded by family when the time came…

Patrick Swazye made his debute at about the same time I did, only he was on the silver screen, and I was stepping onto the stage of Life.

The first film I remember him in was “Red Dawn”, and I remember (being a young man with my fire on fire) wondering how I would do were I to be dropped into the same situation of having to defend my homeland as a member of some homespun resistance group…  I think everyone in my age group wondered thew same thing…

Later, however, I saw “Dirty Dancing”, and saw that a man could carry himself with grace, style, even beauty, while still being ultimately masculine.  That epiphany carries through to this day.

It was in “Ghost”, however, that he melded his alpha-male image with a romantic performance with Demi Moore, and immersed the audience in romance of the sweetest order, re-energizing the wondrous genre of romance, which catalyzed millions of lovers to re-ignite the spark of passion in classic style.  Again, the message was clear:  Falling in love, reveling the romance was a perfectly acceptable thing to do, even for the most manly of men.

“Roadhouse” on the other hand, had the most profound impact on me. however.  Swayze, playing Dillon, a traveling “cooler”, performed the role flawlessly, combining the down and dirty aspects of the quintessential tough guy, with the contemplative persona of a philosopher.  “Be nice, until it’s time NOT to be nice…” stands out, and it was a phrase I took to heart.  Again, it was acceptable to contemplate an alternate path to violence even while in a job that promised violence a-plenty.  This, and the relationship that Swayze’s character had with Sam Elliot’s (admit it, doesn’t everyone want to have a friend like Sam Elliot – rumbling up on his Harley, laid back and full of life’s lessons, but more than able to take care of himself?) showed that you could be a tough guy, but still have those fraternal bonds.  This introduced the idea, and shaped the idea of “the Brotherhood” that was polished by my time in the Corps.

Of all of the actors I have seen over the years, Patrick Swayze seemed to be one of the few who retained his sense of self while still navigating the rocks and shoals of Hollywood.  He was in the same company as Robert Urich and Michael Landon in that respect; men who passed along the deeper lessons of life to their audience, and in doing so, validated thought over brute strength in the style of David Carradine’s Kwai Chang Caine.

So, in retrospect, I give you Patrick Swayze, who had a greater impact on society that some may realize, and I mourn the passing of a cinematic “gentle giant”.

God speed, Patrick, and may you take the angels for a spin on the dance floor of Heaven, and while you’re at it, see if you can teach the Marines who look on Heaven’s Scenes the difference between their left feet and their right!

"Remember..."

11 September 2001, 1003 EST

United Airlines Flight 93

40 souls aboard…

Shanksville, PA…

They fought back, and the terrorists failed to accomplish their mission.

"They fought, and gave the last, great measure of devotion..."

“In resquat pace…”