Posted on 05/17/2004 4:45:22 AM PDT by The Mayor
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THE WEEKEND THREAD
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 1) Click on the graphic to open the Calendar. |
FRiends, I'm almost afraid to announce that today is "Rubber Band Day." Some of y'all are sure to think up too many ways to use rubber bands that could be dangerous to small creatures or yourself and our FRiends! You know who I'm referring to!!! ;-)
Morning Free
This is a letter from Ray Reynolds, a medic in the Iowa Army National Guard, serving in Iraq:
As I head off to Baghdad for the final weeks of my stay in Iraq, I wanted to say thanks to all of you who did not believe the media. They have done a very poor job of covering everything that has happened. I am sorry that I have not been able to visit all of you during my two week leave back home. And just so you can rest at night knowing something is happening in Iraq that is noteworthy, I thought I would pass this on to you. This is the list of things that has happened in Iraq recently: (Please share it with your friends and compare it to the version that your paper is producing.)
* Over 400,000 kids have up-to-date immunizations.
* School attendance is up 80% from levels before the war.
* Over 1,500 schools have been renovated and rid of the weapons stored there so education can occur.
* The port of Uhm Qasar was renovated so grain can be off-loaded from ships faster.
* The country had its first 2 billion barrel export of oil in August.
* Over 4.5 million people have clean drinking water for the firsttime ever in Iraq.
* The country now receives 2 times the electrical power it did before the war.
* 100% of the hospitals are open and fully staffed, compared to 35% before the war.
* Elections are taking place in every major city, and city councils are in place.
* Sewer and water lines are installed in every major city.
* Over 60,000 police are patrolling the streets.
* Over 100,000 Iraqi civil defense police are securing the country.
* Over 80,000 Iraqi soldiers are patrolling the streets side by side with US soldiers.
* Over 400,000 people have telephones for the first time ever
* Students are taught field sanitation and hand washing techniques to prevent the spread of germs.
* An interim constitution has been signed.
* Girls are allowed to attend school.
* Textbooks that don't mention Saddam are in the schools for the first time in 30 years.
Don't believe for one second that these people do not want
us there. I have met many, many people from Iraq that want us there,and in a bad way. They say they will never see the freedoms we talk about but they hope their children will.
We are doing a good job in Iraq and I challenge anyone, anywhere to dispute me on these facts. So If you happen to run into John Kerry, be sure to give him my email
address and send him to Denison, Iowa. This soldier will set him straight. If you are like me and very disgusted with how this period of rebuilding has been portrayed, email this to a friend and let them
know there are good things happening.
Ray Reynolds, SFC
Iowa Army National Guard
234th Signal Battalion
The ones who don't come back
By Fred Afflerbach
Special to the Star-Telegram
To finance my college education, I drive a moving van.
Last winter, I made several trips from Austin to Fort Hood, 75 miles one way. My job was to pack and load for storage the household goods of 1st Cavalry soldiers soon to be deployed.
As a mover, I've witnessed strange lifestyles, overheard embarrassing conversations and fielded countless odd questions. I like to think I've cultivated a bartender's ear. But I was blindsided by the question of a young Fort Hood soldier: "What happens to the stuff of the ones who don't come back?"
I was stupefied at first. Then I panicked.
"You're coming back," I said nervously. "You're all coming back."
As if my saying so would make it true. What do you say to someone going to war?
Upon completion of each job, I would hand the soldier a copy of the paperwork, but I struggled with an appropriate sendoff. Gradually I grew more comfortable with this awkward situation and, with a strong handshake, expressed my respect for what they were doing along with my prayers for their safe return.
I even thought I was clever, throwing in a line about the homecoming parade they'd receive upon their return. But I was unprepared for this reality check.
Most of the work I performed for the 1st Cav at Fort Hood was in the barracks, which eerily resembles a college dormitory -- albeit with dissimilar curricula. And sometimes these soldiers, who ranged in age from their late teens to mid-20s, acted like college kids, too.
A soldier once answered his cellphone, immediately opened his window and tossed something out to a group of soldiers in the parking lot three floors below. Later I learned that his roommate was eating french fries from a local fast-food restaurant and needed ketchup.
Phone the roomie, ketchup descends, problem solved. Somehow I liked this type of thinking, although I doubt it would impress their sergeant.
During my work for the 1st Cavalry, I found a diversity truly representative of America.
Two young ladies, yet to see their 21st birthdays, mirrored Jessica Lynch. A Hispanic woman's room was decorated with religious symbols. I carefully wrapped and packed statuettes, crucifixes and her bedspread -- a blanket imprinted with the image of the Virgin Mary. After Iraq, she was going back home to New Mexico to attend college. Secretly, I crossed myself.
While wielding my black felt marker, I found it sometimes difficult to correctly spell the soldiers' names on their cartons. Some names were confounding combinations of consonants, heavy with V's, Z's, S's and K's. Other names were an alphabet soup of vowels.
I packed a UT graduate's African dashikis alongside his high school football trophies. Another soldier, whose job is equivalent to that of the manager of an auto parts store, remained curled up on his bed as he watched us pack. He said he was sick, but when we finished, he dressed in a flash. It appeared that he was planning one last night out on the town.
Another trip found me 30 miles outside of Fort Hood in a coffee shop, interrupting an old-timers' dominoes game at 7:30 a.m. I needed directions.
With their help, I found the sergeant from rural Georgia at the end of a gravel road in a mobile home, perched on several acres of rock and cedar. He explained that he received a rent reduction by caring for the owner's horses. But I sensed that he wasn't interested only in saving money.
As I packed inside, I looked outside. He was rubbing his face against a pony's muzzle, saying goodbye. I asked who would take care of the horses when he had gone. He didn't know. He said he was waiting for the call, and when it came he had 12 hours to report, ready to go. As I drove away, the horses bolted into the cedars.
• • •
Of all the soldiers I worked for, the young man who asked the tough question stands out.
Packing his belongings was a peek into his past. I wrapped his ribbons and debate trophies from high school and found more books, papers and binders than I normally do.
"I love to write," he said. I smiled -- a kindred soul.
"What do you write?"
"Poetry."
A few months later, my dispatcher asked me to deliver a "bluebark" shipment from storage. In military parlance, a bluebark shipment consists of the household goods of a deceased service member.
I was about to find out what happens to the belongings of "the ones who don't come back."
Shortly after we began unloading, the young widow offered us coffee and doughnuts -- a demonstration of class and hospitality. Her two toddlers were constantly underfoot. Something that normally was irritating now seemed unimportant. And throughout the move there was no mention of her late husband, neither by her nor the several relatives who came to help.
I remained professional, but I couldn't escape the blunt question about the ones who don't come back. I told myself that it was just another move, and I almost succeeded in this delusion.
But then I began unpacking. Nestled in a carton, between two pictures, was a framed memorial to her husband.
I told myself not to look, but my eyes wouldn't obey. I noticed that I was alone in the room and remained transfixed on the plaque. I looked into the faces of the late soldier's comrades and read the epitaph. I leaned the frame against the wall and walked outside, numb. I felt like a trespasser, a peeping Tom, in the midst of her personal tragedy.
Upon signing the paperwork, I discovered that the woman and I attended the same college and that her brother was to occupy the empty extra bedroom -- a fatherly presence for the children, I thought. Clearly, she was coping and continuing with life.
• • •
I was too young to fight in Vietnam and too old for Iraq. I haven't marched a mile in Army boots. I don't know what it's like to have people shoot at me or to watch comrades beside me fall victim to enemy fire.
But I have seen the cost of war. I saw it in the young widow's eyes and in the two toddlers who'll never get another hug from their daddy.
By constantly reminding ourselves of the cost of war, and weighing it against other options, we can help keep our objectives in focus and make balanced decisions.
America lashes out when it feels that its freedom or safety are jeopardized. But we shouldn't act in a blind rage. That much we owe to the ones who don't come back.
Thanks for the devotion
DoD photo by Staff Sgt. Klaus Baesu, U.S. Army. (Released)
Photo by: STAFF SGT. KLAUS BAESU, 55TH SIGNAL COMPANY (COMCAM)
I’m not sure exactly how many attended because there was no official count but I’m guessing anywhere 3,000 to 5,000 people participated. We had the old, the very young, middle aged and elementary aged, professionals, students, bikers, Black, White, Hispanic, Veterans from every war back to World War II, enlisted men, brothers, sisters, moms, dads and even puppy dogs—patriotic Americans showing their appreciation to the men and women who keep us safe every day.
I cannot properly honor the occasion with a short post so I am putting together a detailed after action report that will have its own thread. I have photos but must find a hosting site before those can be shared. Anyone who wants to hear more about the rally can log ontoKLIF 570 AM and listen online to Greg Knapp’s show from 4pm-7pm (central time) . Darrell Ankarlo has pictures posted on his site at Operation Enduring Freedom Photos linked here
GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS!
GOD BLESS PRESIDENT BUSH!
GOD BLESS DONALD RUMSFELD!
GOD BLESS AMERICA!
It brought back memories of the year (Oct '67 - Oct '68) my husband was in Southeast Asia, when he was the forerunner of Air Force Special Operations.
He had trained the last year spent in Fairbanks, Alaska for this, graduation accorded only after taking on five men simultaneously, and winning.
Not only did he weed out infiltrators around the air base in SE Asia intent upon bringing down our aircraft, but he and the teams he led were routinely choppered into the heaviest fighting in Vietnam - the Tet Offensive and Da Nang battles among them.
Able to stay in base housing seven months of the year at Myrtle Beach AFB, where I taught school, many a time I looked out the living room picture window at the corner, steeled for a staff car to come around it and stop at my door, psychologically preparing should it happen.
God bless those who wait.....
I will come back and read all of these great posts.
Got to go do some work..
Say - do you ever see President Bush's dog, Spot?
Does she have a yellow ball there, too?
- - Gertie - -
That's beautiful. Was it difficult to make?
Ahem, for what occasions do you wear this?
(I have heard of people making a big ball out of rubber bands, but I have never heard of making clothing...)
The Rubberband Man
by Spinners
Hand me down my walkin' cane
Hand me down my hat
Hurry now and don't be late
'Cause we ain't got time to chat
You and me we're goin' out
To catch the latest sound
Guaranteed to blow your mind
So high you won't come down
Chorus:
Hey ya'll prepare yourself for the rubberband man
You've never heard a sound
Like the rubberband man
You're bound to lose control
When the rubberband starts to jam
Oh, this dude is outta sight!
Everything he does seems to come out right
Once I went to hear them play
At a club outside of town
I was so suprised
I was hypnotized
By the sound this cat put down
When I saw this short fat guy
Stretch a band between his toes
Hey I laughed so hard
Cause the man got down
When he finally reached his goal
Repeat Chorus
Got that rubber band
Up on his toes
And then he wriggled it up
All around his nose
Guaranteed to blow your mind
???
???
Repeat Chorus
Rubberband man
Rubberband man
How much of this stuff do he think we can stand?
So much rhythym, grace, and debonair for one man
???
???
Repeat Chorus
Rubberband man starts to jam
Moving up and down cross the land
Got the people all in his wake
Everything probably seems outta place
Just move it, just move it
Just move move move it
Rubberband Man
Just move it, just move it
Just move move move it
Rubberband man
Get down, get down low
Polish and U.S. soldiers are combining forces during
an operation to capture high value targets in Karbala.
DoD photo by Sgt. Jose M. Hernandez, U.S. Army. (Released)
Photo by: SGT JOSE M. HERNANDEZ, 55TH SIGNAL COMPANY (COMCAM)
Record ID No. (VIRIN): 040504-A-1581H-005
(U.S. Air Force photo by Staff Sgt. Ricky A. Bloom) (Released)
Photo by: SSGT. RICKY A. BLOOM, 1ST COMBAT CAMERA SQUADRON Record ID No. (VIRIN): 040428-F-2902B-008.JPG
What an awesome Pledge graphic! Good afternoon, Finest Family, and a big thank you to our troops. We owe them our deepest gratitude and our continued prayers.
That is WONDERFUL news, Donnie! So happy to hear what a huge turnout you all had! Congratulations to all for the hard work getting it together!
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