Yesterday, December 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.
The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its Government and its Emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.
Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American Island of Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.
It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.
The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.
Yesterday the Japanese Government also launched an attack against Malaya. Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam. Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island. This morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island.
Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.
As Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense.
But always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us. No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.
I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.
Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.
With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God.
I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December seventh, 1941 a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire.
Monday, December 8, 2008
NCO's and Officers
A man is flying in a hot air balloon and realizes he is lost. He reduces height and spots a man down below. He lowers the balloon further and shouts: "Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?"
The man below says: "Yes, you're in a hot air balloon, hovering 30 feet above this field."
"You must be an NCO," says the balloonist. "I am" replies the man. "How did you know?"
"Well," says the balloonist, "Everything you have told me is technically correct, but it's no use to anyone."
The man below says "You must be an Officer". "I am" replies the balloonist, "But how did you know?"
"Well," says the NCO, "You don't know where you are, or where you're going, but you expect me to be able to help. You're in the same position you were before we met, but now it's my fault."
The man below says: "Yes, you're in a hot air balloon, hovering 30 feet above this field."
"You must be an NCO," says the balloonist. "I am" replies the man. "How did you know?"
"Well," says the balloonist, "Everything you have told me is technically correct, but it's no use to anyone."
The man below says "You must be an Officer". "I am" replies the balloonist, "But how did you know?"
"Well," says the NCO, "You don't know where you are, or where you're going, but you expect me to be able to help. You're in the same position you were before we met, but now it's my fault."
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Privates to Sergeants
Two good ol' boys, Bubba and Junior get promoted from Privates to Sergeants. Not long after, they're out for a walk and Bubba says, "Hey, Junior - there's the NCO Club. Let's you and me stop in and have us a drank."
"But we's privates," protests Junior.
"NO, we's sergeants now," says Bubba, pulling him inside.
"Now, Junior, I'm gonna sit down and have me a drank."
"But, we's privates," says Junior.
"You blind, boy!" says Bubba, pointing at his stripes. "We's Sergeants now!"
So they order their drinks and pretty soon a hooker comes up to Bubba.
"You're cute," she says, "and I'd like to take you someplace and make you feel good -- but I've got a bad case of gonorrhea."
Bubba pulls his friend to the side and whispers, "Junior, go look in the dictionary and see what that gonorrhea means. If it's good, give me the okay sign."
Junior goes to look it up, comes back, and gives Bubba the big okay sign.
Three weeks later Bubba is laid up in the infirmary with a terrible case of gonorrhea.
"Junior," he says, "What you give me the okay for?!"
"Well Bubba, in the dictionary, it says gonorrhea only affects the privates."
Then he pointed to his stripes and says, "But we's Sergeants now!"
.
"But we's privates," protests Junior.
"NO, we's sergeants now," says Bubba, pulling him inside.
"Now, Junior, I'm gonna sit down and have me a drank."
"But, we's privates," says Junior.
"You blind, boy!" says Bubba, pointing at his stripes. "We's Sergeants now!"
So they order their drinks and pretty soon a hooker comes up to Bubba.
"You're cute," she says, "and I'd like to take you someplace and make you feel good -- but I've got a bad case of gonorrhea."
Bubba pulls his friend to the side and whispers, "Junior, go look in the dictionary and see what that gonorrhea means. If it's good, give me the okay sign."
Junior goes to look it up, comes back, and gives Bubba the big okay sign.
Three weeks later Bubba is laid up in the infirmary with a terrible case of gonorrhea.
"Junior," he says, "What you give me the okay for?!"
"Well Bubba, in the dictionary, it says gonorrhea only affects the privates."
Then he pointed to his stripes and says, "But we's Sergeants now!"
.
Friday, November 28, 2008
If an anaconda attacks...
If an anaconda attacks
The following is from the US Government Peace Corps Manual for its volunteers who work in the Amazon Jungle. It tells what to do in case you are attacked by an anaconda. This is what the manual said:
1. If you are attacked by an anaconda, do not run. The snake is faster than you are.
2. Lie flat on the ground. Put your arms tight against your sides, your legs tight against one another .
3. Tuck your chin in.
4. The snake will come and begin to nudge and climb over your body.
5. Do not panic .
6. After the snake has examined you, it will begin to swallow you from the feet and - always from the end. Permit the snake to swallow your feet and ankles. Do not panic .
7. The snake will now begin to suck your legs into its body. You must lie perfectly still. This will take a long time.
8. When the snake has reached your knees slowly and with as little movement as possible, reach down, take your knife and very gently slide it into the side of the snake's mouth between the edge of its mouth and your leg, then suddenly rip upwards, severing the snake's head.
9. Be sure you have your knife.
10. Be sure your knife is sharp.
The following is from the US Government Peace Corps Manual for its volunteers who work in the Amazon Jungle. It tells what to do in case you are attacked by an anaconda. This is what the manual said:
1. If you are attacked by an anaconda, do not run. The snake is faster than you are.
2. Lie flat on the ground. Put your arms tight against your sides, your legs tight against one another .
3. Tuck your chin in.
4. The snake will come and begin to nudge and climb over your body.
5. Do not panic .
6. After the snake has examined you, it will begin to swallow you from the feet and - always from the end. Permit the snake to swallow your feet and ankles. Do not panic .
7. The snake will now begin to suck your legs into its body. You must lie perfectly still. This will take a long time.
8. When the snake has reached your knees slowly and with as little movement as possible, reach down, take your knife and very gently slide it into the side of the snake's mouth between the edge of its mouth and your leg, then suddenly rip upwards, severing the snake's head.
9. Be sure you have your knife.
10. Be sure your knife is sharp.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Words of Thomas Jefferson
The history, writings and teachings of our founding fathers seem to be lost in this era. It seems, there is a disturbing number who are willing to claim the principles of our founding principals are archaic and must be swept away in favor of our newly defined mantra of political correctness. The guarantees of freedom are centered on self betterment through opportunity not simply the right to something for nothing.
We face no new challenges today. The idea we face anything our nation has not come face to face with before is wrought upon us by failed students of history. The confrontation that we truly face is will we repeat the same mistakes that have resulted in the eventual self destruction of every form of self government since we were put upon the earth.
When we get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe, we shall become as corrupt as Europe. Thomas Jefferson
The democracy will cease to exist when you take away from those who are willing to work and give to those who would not. Thomas Jefferson
It is incumbent on every generation to pay its own debts as it goes. A principle which if acted on would save one-half the wars of the world. Thomas Jefferson
I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of taking care of them. Thomas Jefferson
My reading of history convinces me that most bad government results from too much government. Thomas Jefferson
No free man shall ever be debarred the use of arms. Thomas Jefferson
The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government. Thomas Jefferson
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. Thomas Jefferson
To compel a man to subsidize with his taxes the propagation of ideas which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical. Thomas Jefferson
In light of the present financial crisis, it's interesting to read what Thomas Jefferson said in 1802:"I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around the banks will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered."
We face no new challenges today. The idea we face anything our nation has not come face to face with before is wrought upon us by failed students of history. The confrontation that we truly face is will we repeat the same mistakes that have resulted in the eventual self destruction of every form of self government since we were put upon the earth.
When we get piled upon one another in large cities, as in Europe, we shall become as corrupt as Europe. Thomas Jefferson
The democracy will cease to exist when you take away from those who are willing to work and give to those who would not. Thomas Jefferson
It is incumbent on every generation to pay its own debts as it goes. A principle which if acted on would save one-half the wars of the world. Thomas Jefferson
I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of taking care of them. Thomas Jefferson
My reading of history convinces me that most bad government results from too much government. Thomas Jefferson
No free man shall ever be debarred the use of arms. Thomas Jefferson
The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government. Thomas Jefferson
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. Thomas Jefferson
To compel a man to subsidize with his taxes the propagation of ideas which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical. Thomas Jefferson
In light of the present financial crisis, it's interesting to read what Thomas Jefferson said in 1802:"I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around the banks will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered."
Rules of friendship
Rules of friendship
1. When you are sad -- I will jump on the person who made you sad like a spider monkey jacked up on Mountain Dew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you
3. When you smile -- I will know you are plotting something that I must be involved in.
4. When you're scared -- we will high tail it out of here.
5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining, ya big baby!!!!
6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.
7. When you are sick -- Stay away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.
8. When you fall -- I'll pick you up and dust you off-- After I laugh my butt off!!
9. This is my oath...I pledge it to the end. 'Why?' you may ask -- because you are my FRIEND!
1. When you are sad -- I will jump on the person who made you sad like a spider monkey jacked up on Mountain Dew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you
3. When you smile -- I will know you are plotting something that I must be involved in.
4. When you're scared -- we will high tail it out of here.
5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining, ya big baby!!!!
6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.
7. When you are sick -- Stay away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.
8. When you fall -- I'll pick you up and dust you off-- After I laugh my butt off!!
9. This is my oath...I pledge it to the end. 'Why?' you may ask -- because you are my FRIEND!
Friday, November 21, 2008
What is a Vietnam Veteran?
What is a Vietnam Veteran?
Vietnam veterans are men and women. We are dead or alive, whole or maimed, sane or haunted. We grew from our experiences or we were destroyed by them or we struggle to find some place in between. We lived through hell or we had a pleasant, if scary, adventure. We were Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, Red Cross, and civilians of all sorts. Some of us enlisted to fight for God and Country, and some were drafted. Some were gung-ho, and some went kicking and screaming.
Like veterans of all wars, we lived a tad bit--or a great bit--closer to death than most people like to think about. If Vietnam vets differ from others, perhaps it is primarily in the fact that many of us never saw the enemy or recognized him or her. We heard gunfire and mortar fire but rarely looked into enemy eyes. Those who did, like folks who encounter close combat anywhere and anytime, are often haunted for life by those eyes, those sounds, those electric fears that ran between our enemies, and the likelihood of death for one of us. Or we get hard, calloused, and tough. It’s all in a day's work. Life's a bitch; then you die. But most of us remember and get twitchy, worried, and sad. We are crazies dressed in cammo, wide-eyed, wary, homeless, and drunk. We are Brooks Brothers suit wearers, doing deals downtown. We are housewives, grandmothers, and church deacons. We are college professors engaged in the rational pursuit of the truth about the history or politics or culture of the Vietnam experience. And we are sleepless, often sleepless.
We pushed paper; we pushed shovels. We drove jeeps, operated bulldozers, built bridges; we toted machine guns through dense brush, deep paddy, and thorn scrub. We lived on buffalo milk, fish heads and rice, C-rations, or steaks and Budweiser. We did our time in high mountains drenched by endless monsoon rains or on the dry plains or on muddy rivers or at the most beautiful beaches in the world. We wore berets, bandanas, flop hats, and steel pots. Flak jackets, canvas, rash, and rot. We ate cloroquine and got malaria anyway. We got shots constantly but have diseases nobody can diagnose. We spent our nights on cots or shivering in foxholes filled with waist-high water or lying still on cold wet ground, our eyes imagining Charlie behind every bamboo blade. Or we slept in hotel beds in Saigon or barracks in Thailand or in cramped ships' berths at sea.
We feared we would die or we feared we would kill. We simply feared, and often we still do. We hate the war or believe it was the best thing that ever happened to us. We blame Uncle Sam or Uncle Ho and their minions and secretaries and apologists for every wart or cough or tic of an eye. We wonder if Agent Orange got us.
Mostly--and this I believe with all my heart--mostly, we wish we had not been so alone. Some of us went with units; but many, probably most of us, were civilians one day, jerked up out of "the world," shaved, barked at, insulted, humiliated, de-ego-tized and taught to kill, to fix radios, to drive trucks. We went, put in our time, and were equally ungraciously plucked out of the morass and placed back in the real world. But now we smoked dope, shot skag, or drank heavily. Our wives or husbands seemed distant and strange. Our friends wanted to know if we shot anybody.
And life went on, had been going on, as if we hadn't been there, as if Vietnam was a topic of political conversation or college protest or news copy, not a matter of life and death for tens of thousands.
Vietnam vets are people just like you. We served our country, proudly or reluctantly or ambivalently. What makes us different--what makes us Vietnam vets--is something we understand, but we are afraid nobody else will. But we appreciate your asking.
Vietnam veterans are white, black, beige, and shades of gray. Our ancestors came from Africa, from Europe, and China. Or they crossed the Bering Sea Land Bridge in the last Ice Age and formed the nations of American Indians, built pyramids in Mexico, or farmed acres of corn on the banks of Chesapeake Bay. We had names like Rodriguez and Stein and Smith and Kowalski. We were Americans, Australians, Canadians, and Koreans.
We were farmers, students, mechanics, steelworkers, nurses, and priests when the call came that changed us all forever. We had dreams and plans, and they all had to change...or wait. We were daughters and sons, lovers and poets, beatniks and philosophers, convicts and lawyers. We were rich and poor. We were educated or not. We grew up in slums, in shacks, in duplexes, and bungalows and houseboats and hooches. We were cowards and heroes. Sometimes we were cowards one moment and heroes the next.
Many of us have never seen Vietnam. Some were stationed on both sides of the “conflict.” Others waited at home for those we loved. And for some of us, our worst fears were realized. For others, our loved ones came back but never would be the same. We came home and marched in protest marches, sucked in tear gas, and shrieked our anger and horror for all to hear. Or we sat alone in small rooms, in VA hospital wards, in places where only the crazy ever go.
We are Republicans, Democrats, Socialists, Confucians, Buddhists and Atheists--though as usually is the case, even the atheists among us sometimes prayed to get out of there alive. We are hungry, and we are sated, full of life or clinging to death. We are injured, and we are curers, despairing and hopeful, loved or lost. We got too old too quickly, but some of us have never grown up. We want, desperately, to go back, to heal wounds, and revisit the sites of our horror.
Or we want never to see that place again, to bury it, its memories, its meaning. We want to forget, and we wish we could remember. Despite our differences, we have so much in common. There are few of us who don't know how to cry, though we often do it alone when nobody will ask, "what's wrong?" We're afraid we might have to answer. If you want to know what a Vietnam veteran is, get in your car next weekend or cage a friend with a car to drive you. Go to Washington. Go to the Wall. It's going to be Veterans Day weekend. There will be hundreds there...no, thousands. Watch them. Listen to them. Go touch the Wall with them. Rejoice a bit. Cry a bit. No, cry a lot. Some of them will. They’re Vietnam Veterans; and, after 33 years or more, some are just beginning to understand what that means.
Vietnam veterans are men and women. We are dead or alive, whole or maimed, sane or haunted. We grew from our experiences or we were destroyed by them or we struggle to find some place in between. We lived through hell or we had a pleasant, if scary, adventure. We were Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, Red Cross, and civilians of all sorts. Some of us enlisted to fight for God and Country, and some were drafted. Some were gung-ho, and some went kicking and screaming.
Like veterans of all wars, we lived a tad bit--or a great bit--closer to death than most people like to think about. If Vietnam vets differ from others, perhaps it is primarily in the fact that many of us never saw the enemy or recognized him or her. We heard gunfire and mortar fire but rarely looked into enemy eyes. Those who did, like folks who encounter close combat anywhere and anytime, are often haunted for life by those eyes, those sounds, those electric fears that ran between our enemies, and the likelihood of death for one of us. Or we get hard, calloused, and tough. It’s all in a day's work. Life's a bitch; then you die. But most of us remember and get twitchy, worried, and sad. We are crazies dressed in cammo, wide-eyed, wary, homeless, and drunk. We are Brooks Brothers suit wearers, doing deals downtown. We are housewives, grandmothers, and church deacons. We are college professors engaged in the rational pursuit of the truth about the history or politics or culture of the Vietnam experience. And we are sleepless, often sleepless.
We pushed paper; we pushed shovels. We drove jeeps, operated bulldozers, built bridges; we toted machine guns through dense brush, deep paddy, and thorn scrub. We lived on buffalo milk, fish heads and rice, C-rations, or steaks and Budweiser. We did our time in high mountains drenched by endless monsoon rains or on the dry plains or on muddy rivers or at the most beautiful beaches in the world. We wore berets, bandanas, flop hats, and steel pots. Flak jackets, canvas, rash, and rot. We ate cloroquine and got malaria anyway. We got shots constantly but have diseases nobody can diagnose. We spent our nights on cots or shivering in foxholes filled with waist-high water or lying still on cold wet ground, our eyes imagining Charlie behind every bamboo blade. Or we slept in hotel beds in Saigon or barracks in Thailand or in cramped ships' berths at sea.
We feared we would die or we feared we would kill. We simply feared, and often we still do. We hate the war or believe it was the best thing that ever happened to us. We blame Uncle Sam or Uncle Ho and their minions and secretaries and apologists for every wart or cough or tic of an eye. We wonder if Agent Orange got us.
Mostly--and this I believe with all my heart--mostly, we wish we had not been so alone. Some of us went with units; but many, probably most of us, were civilians one day, jerked up out of "the world," shaved, barked at, insulted, humiliated, de-ego-tized and taught to kill, to fix radios, to drive trucks. We went, put in our time, and were equally ungraciously plucked out of the morass and placed back in the real world. But now we smoked dope, shot skag, or drank heavily. Our wives or husbands seemed distant and strange. Our friends wanted to know if we shot anybody.
And life went on, had been going on, as if we hadn't been there, as if Vietnam was a topic of political conversation or college protest or news copy, not a matter of life and death for tens of thousands.
Vietnam vets are people just like you. We served our country, proudly or reluctantly or ambivalently. What makes us different--what makes us Vietnam vets--is something we understand, but we are afraid nobody else will. But we appreciate your asking.
Vietnam veterans are white, black, beige, and shades of gray. Our ancestors came from Africa, from Europe, and China. Or they crossed the Bering Sea Land Bridge in the last Ice Age and formed the nations of American Indians, built pyramids in Mexico, or farmed acres of corn on the banks of Chesapeake Bay. We had names like Rodriguez and Stein and Smith and Kowalski. We were Americans, Australians, Canadians, and Koreans.
We were farmers, students, mechanics, steelworkers, nurses, and priests when the call came that changed us all forever. We had dreams and plans, and they all had to change...or wait. We were daughters and sons, lovers and poets, beatniks and philosophers, convicts and lawyers. We were rich and poor. We were educated or not. We grew up in slums, in shacks, in duplexes, and bungalows and houseboats and hooches. We were cowards and heroes. Sometimes we were cowards one moment and heroes the next.
Many of us have never seen Vietnam. Some were stationed on both sides of the “conflict.” Others waited at home for those we loved. And for some of us, our worst fears were realized. For others, our loved ones came back but never would be the same. We came home and marched in protest marches, sucked in tear gas, and shrieked our anger and horror for all to hear. Or we sat alone in small rooms, in VA hospital wards, in places where only the crazy ever go.
We are Republicans, Democrats, Socialists, Confucians, Buddhists and Atheists--though as usually is the case, even the atheists among us sometimes prayed to get out of there alive. We are hungry, and we are sated, full of life or clinging to death. We are injured, and we are curers, despairing and hopeful, loved or lost. We got too old too quickly, but some of us have never grown up. We want, desperately, to go back, to heal wounds, and revisit the sites of our horror.
Or we want never to see that place again, to bury it, its memories, its meaning. We want to forget, and we wish we could remember. Despite our differences, we have so much in common. There are few of us who don't know how to cry, though we often do it alone when nobody will ask, "what's wrong?" We're afraid we might have to answer. If you want to know what a Vietnam veteran is, get in your car next weekend or cage a friend with a car to drive you. Go to Washington. Go to the Wall. It's going to be Veterans Day weekend. There will be hundreds there...no, thousands. Watch them. Listen to them. Go touch the Wall with them. Rejoice a bit. Cry a bit. No, cry a lot. Some of them will. They’re Vietnam Veterans; and, after 33 years or more, some are just beginning to understand what that means.
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