I know what I said. I would never do this again at this place. But I was asked to do this by the Proprietors and Staff of The Broadway Lounge. It also helps that the owner is a Veteran of the United States Army. (No, I don’t hold it against him-not everyone was born to be Marine). When I was approached with this my eyes rolled and I shook my head, no.
But an old Army Master Sergeant who was there last year and despite how I thought things went, reminded me that a few Vets who did show up were quite moved by the observances. We toasted the President, The Armed Forces Veterans, Those Serving in Active Duty Around the World, The Marine Corps and a special observance For the Fallen and Prisoners of War.
We have Veterans who come into the Lounge regularly a Veteran Soldier with the 1st Air Cavalry (part of 7th Army – Custers Division), Airborne soldiers from the 82nd Airborne, 101st Airborne and the 173rd Airborne. We have Airmen who come in from time to time and a good number of Sailors. The Marines who come into the Lounge are so few, he can be counted on one hand.
Why do this? Because we take for granted that the Veterans from all conflicts from all branches all during the 20th Century have served and sacrificed on every level imaginable to make this country the greatest place in the world to live life as a free being. Some of them are our Dad’s, Uncle’s, Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Auntie, Sister or Brother. Have you ever asked them about their service? What they went through?
On the Marine Corps Birthday we will share, observe and celebrate American Veterans and the Marine Corps. Most of you have no idea that we wouldn’t have a nation without the Corps. Before there was an America, there was a Marine Corps. I will post a lot about American History later. But now I want to give you something to think about.
Casualties in Iraq The Human Cost of Occupation Edited by Margaret Griffis :: Contact
American Military Casualties in Iraq
Date Total In Combat American Deaths
Since war began (3/19/03):
4177
Since "Mission Accomplished" (5/1/03) (the list)
4038
Since Capture of Saddam (12/13/03):
3716
Since Handover (6/29/04):
3311
Since Election (1/31/05):
2731
American Wounded
Official
Estimated
Total Wounded:
30680
Over 100000
Latest Fatality Oct. 1, 2008
Page last updated 10/3/08 11:55 am EDT
List of U.S. Servicemembers killed since 5/1/03
Put a Casualty Counter on Your Website
U.S. Wounded
Daily DoD Casualty Release
320,000 Vets Have Brain Injuries
War Veterans’ Concussions Are Often Overlooked
How Many Servicemembers Were Wounded?
18 Vet Suicides Per Day?
Iraqi Casualties
Others
Other Coalition Troops - Iraq
314
US Military Deaths - Afghanistan
609
Other Military Deaths - Afghanistan
376
Contractor Deaths - Iraq
444
Sources: DoD, MNF, and iCasualties.org
The Faces
The List
Sources
American Casualties
Iraqi Casualties
Contact
U.S. lacks mechanism to accurately track troops wounded in Iraq
Also see The Missing Wounded.
American Count
Dates and sources of Americans killed in Iraq since 5/1/03 are documented in this file. Admittedly the file is incomplete, for the Department of Defense does not maintain old records. All data was compiled from http://www.defenselink.mil/If something is amiss in the data collection, please contact Margaret Griffis.
From I-Casualties.com
"The dangerous patriot...drifts into chauvinism and exhibits blind enthusiasm for military actions."
Colonel James A. Donovan, Marine Corps
Even if you were never served in the U.S. Armed Forces, please have the decency to come down and have a drink with someone who has. All Veterans are honored when a Citizen observes their service. Do come out and enjoy with this with those who have served.
"For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the protected will never know"
Written on a C-ration box by an Unknown Marine at the Battle of Khe Sahn, 1968
Comments welcome.
RJ
10.07.2008
Marine Corps Birthday Toast
5.24.2008
Preparations and Observations
Its been over six weeks and he still has the neck brace and a feeding tube. Along with Alzheimer’s, a diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. When we talk he is as lucid as anyone, but sometimes he floats into a time warp and speaks to me as if its 1945, 1955, 1963, or 1968. He is quite cognizant, he knows where he is and what he is saying. But nurses, doctors and even some of his family just don’t understand….he is where his is, in his twilight, on the road.
I’ve served where he fought. I am so proud of that. I was assigned to Okinawa as a Patrol Supervisor of Military Police after serving with the Fleet Marine Force in Korea back in ‘83 and ‘84. I have walked the North End of Okinawa from Red Beach, Kin Kin Cho, from Camp Schwab to Tiger Beach, from Tiger Beach to Ona Ona Son, from White Beach to Naha. Unc (short for Uncle) fought in WWII, he was Duck Driver in the 10th Army. He fought under General Simon Bolivar Buckner, Jr., Marine General Roy Geiger and General Vinegar Joe Stillwell.
“Go, go tell ‘em that its all right….” Unc kept reaching for an item that wasn’t there I didn’t know what it was at first. This Veteran of WWII is laying in a nursing home, but he is talking to me from his house on West End Avenue in Inwood, to him, its 1968. “Boy, tell ‘em to do right, take care of each other, finish doing the work.” Work, what work Unc? “Ba’ (pronounced ‘Bay’, his nickname for my Dad) needs the tools to finish fixin’ the truck and I gotta get more wood from that Ol’ Cracker to finish the potato houses…”.
“The trucks boy, we need to get ammo to the beach, Ba’s gonna’ move’em out, you brothers got work to do!” (Some of my relatives would have placated him about now and called the nurse…not me, I had to understand). ‘Make it plain Unc, I need to get it right.’ His emaciated frame got rigid as he looked me in the eyes, “bad times are coming boy, just like Rob said…its time you got the trucks running and start loading up.”
I held tightly to his bed rail as he continued, this wasn’t incoherent babbling, he knew exactly what he was saying, I needed to know why? ‘Why now Unc, why the ammo and the move now?’ “Boy, can’t you see? Its just like Pop said, when you can’t get gas for the cars you gotta grow your own food…you can’t eat cotton, so you better grow potatoes…rationing kept us from getting to market, so we gotta grow our own!”
‘But why move, why the trucks Unc?’ “Boy, you gotta get the ammo to the beach because that’s where there coming from! Get the bullets to the guns and get the wounded and the dead off the beach…you gotta move’em”. I realized that in the haze of his dementia was the sound of common sense. God showed him the future in the flashes of his yesterdays, I was being warned. Now what to do? ‘Unc I understand, I’ll do all I can, I’ll do what daddy taught me.’
Now an old man who works at the nursing home, same age as Unc, was listening in, his name is Howie. Unc now is bridging several time lines, now its 1970 as well as 1968. “Don’t do what Calvin did. You don’t have to be no Officer to be important or looked up to. I know you got the grades, your sister told me. You don’t have to be big to be bad, empty wagons make a lot of noise, Marines only make noise when they shoot somethin’."
Calvin was my hero, he was everything I wanted to be, a Marine Corps Officer, he didn’t know how to be afraid. I always felt fear and thought something was wrong with me. When I became a Sergeant in the Marine Corps I realized that fear was healthy, acting in fear was ignorant and foolish, challenging fear was the place of a leader. I fought to be up front, just like Calvin. He was killed in Vietnam. I overcame the obstacles and made a place in the ranks of the Marine Corps.
Unc said, “I remember when you were a little boy, I asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up you said ‘a Senator’ and I asked you why and you said, ‘I want to be serious and important.’ Boy make sure you get plenty of seed to plant because important people get hungry too. Bad times are coming and you better know how to do the first things first, you here!” Yes Sir, I here.
The nurse came and said that she had to take Unc back to his room, we were in a little corner of the Dining Room when she came for him, Howie asked me to stay for a minute. Howie asked, “he was in the WAR?” I said, ‘Yes Sir, he fought under Buckner with 10th Army in Okinawa, he drove a DUCK.” Howie said, “I was in the infantry in Okinawa, you know they called that battle the ‘Typhoon of Steel’ lots of good boys didn’t come back. We loved to see the Ducks.”
Howie slightly wobbled as he sat down in his chair he was in his late 80’s, just like Unc. Howie went on about the battle. “We were just kids, but at the end of that battle every one of us were men….we saw good friends die and had no problem killing Japs, that’s what we had to do.” Howie wiped his eyes when he told me about Ernie Pyle, a war correspondent who died on Ie Shima, (also IeJima a small island just a mile northwest of Okinawa).
“Why isn’t he at the VA?” Howie asked. “This facility is OK, but what’s out at Northport is the best and that’s what your Uncle deserves” I quickly retorted, “you all do…how much is to little to give for you men who saved the world.” “Thanks kid, but you being one of us knows that we won’t get nothing unless someone fights for it…you and me still have to fight.” ‘Yes Sir, we do.' Lets see if the nurses have your Uncle tucked in good…”
“Boy, where is that bag of bagels, I just put it down….”. Unc drove a bagel delivery truck for a man who owned bagel stores in Far Rockaway, Cedarhurst and Inwood back in the 60’s and 70’s. He got steady work from a group of lawyers in Cedarhurst and Far Rockaway back in the 70’s also, one of them became a Judge and hired Unc full time. He always had bagels to bring to work at the law office (he was the janitor) or take home. He wanted to give me some bagels to take with me when I left. The bag was in 1968…. his intent is for always.
‘Don’t worry about it Unc, I understand, I’ll get by later in the week, I got your Legion Cover (American Legion Hat). I want you to have it for Memorial Day.’ “When you see my brothers, tell them I’m here, I know they get busy, let ‘em know I’m alright…you here boy. You Here?” ‘Yes Sir, I here, I’ll pass it on. (All his brothers have passed away…including my Daddy)’.
“Boy, make sure you pray, get right with God, get those you know right with Jesus. The time is on us and we need to be right! Do you here?” ‘Yes Sir, I here.’ Howie handed me a leaflet, I stuck it in my pocket and thanked him. When I left the nursing home I drove straight to my house. I sat down and opened both bottles of wine and started playing old time gospel music. I played a song that my Daddy liked by Sam Cooke called ‘The Last Mile of the Way.’
When I got home I thought about Memorial Day Weekend, then I read the leaflet Howie gave me. This is what it said:
“It is the VETERAN, not the preacher, who has given us freedom of religion. It is the VETERAN, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the VETERAN , not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the VETERAN, not the campus organizer, who has given us freedom to assemble.
It is the VETERAN, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the VETERAN who salutes the Flag,
It is the Veteran who serves under the Flag,
ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD, AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.
Between barbecue, parties, shopping and drinking remember what Memorial Day is for. If you know a fallen Veteran, find a way to honor him or her for the rest of this month.
When I left the nursing home, I couldn't help notice the stars and stripes flapping in the wind.
Real Heroes will be draped in it.
RJ
11.04.2007
Tour of the Champion: Resolution
We pick up this saga from Saturday Night going into Sunday Morning on a Memorial Day Weekend in 1985. RJ has arrived at the barracks after spending the night on Cece's couch. He is now getting some bad news from the Night Watch Commander, Sergeant Walton.
Morning came Cece dropped me off at MPD North, I checked in with Sergeant Walton who immediately called Gunny Townsend. “What’s the problem Walt, your looking at me like I’m some kind of victim” I said leaning against the wall.
“What’s going on now Walt, What? “A crime unit from Central was here last night in your room. I think things are now out of Gunny’s hands RJ, something weird is going on” said Walton with tremble in his voice.
I sprinted to my barracks. A crime scene cordon had been set up across my door. “Duty NCO, open my room,” I demanded. Duty NCO was on the phone, “standby Sergeant.” So I stood by waiting for the Gunny. Everybody in the barracks was going somewhere. When they saw me they gave their condolences as if I had died and ran out of the barracks like it had caught on fire. I could here a jeep pull up, I heard heels pop and then..”A’TTEN,HUUH.”
As he came into view I locked up at the position of attention, It was Captain Garrett accompanied by the Gunny. I greeted him, “Good morning Captain.” “At ease, unlock.” I greeted Gunny, then put the question, “Captain, may I ask why the crime scene tape is on my door?” “Sergeant, its not your door, its mine and we’re going to open it now” announced the Captain. I entered my room and knew it was the end for me. Almost everything had been packed up, except some uniforms and my civilian clothes.
The Captain sat at my desk, Gunny sat on my rack, I was left standing in the middle. “Why the fuck were you sharpening a ‘K-Bar’ on a Saturday evening Sergeant. “I didn’t have anything else to do at the time Captain.” “DON’T BLOW SMOKE UP MY ASS SERGEANT”, the Captain said raising his voice. “Blood oaths, dark rituals, self inflicted wounds, these are things that the Corps frowns on…I hope that’s not what happened here.” I fought back anger and tears.
“I most respectfully choose not to comment sir”, I said trying to keep from shaking apart. “RJ, relax, please-this isn’t quite what it looks like,” said the Captain. “I need you to stay wrapped as tight as you were the day you got here…we’re all under a microscope and believe me I won’t let you go down, you are not in trouble…your in crisis. All things will stay as the Gunny set up, you are still going to be here until we get word from Battalion on Wednesday” the Captain implored. We packed your gear because a mess was made.
“This morning your going on a picnic with the Navy at White Beach, we’ll drive you. Your gonna talk to a real sweet lady, a real good looker with auburn hair, blue eyes and long legs, her name is Rachel. Be there until just afternoon. Staff Sergeant McMichaels will come get you when its over, Understood Sergeant” snapped the Captain.
“With total clarity sir” I replied. “Good, …now shit, shower, shave, get in clean clothes and get out front asap. Gunny you got the ball” said the Captain as he departed. We all locked up at attention as he took off.
I’m at this picnic and I don’t know why, McMichaels introduces me to Rachel and leaves. “How are you, I’m RJ”. “RJ, I’m Rachel Friedan, I run the Psychological Services extension for the Navy and the Marines, sit down, eat…there’s plenty of food and no bugs to share it with.”
My appetite wasn’t quite the same after she introduced herself. We ate together and then she analyzed me, my medical record was in front of her.
“Ma’am if this gets on my record I’m finished” I said shaking visibly. “That’s why you’re here, we’re at a unit sanctioned picnic so its O.K. for an enlisted man to talk to an officer without suspicion” said Rachel. “I need to know that your injury was an accident, even though I know it wasn’t. Got it.”
“Yes Ma’am, I said softly.” She did her interrogation and/or analysis, she took a long look at my life, revealing a soul slowly going dark. “Until you forgive yourself you won’t really forgive your wife,” Rachel said. I told her I would let go of the vengeance. I walked to the beach alone to break my oath before God to kill Price. I hurt to my heart, it felt so bad, I crossed my arms and fell to my knees in tears.
It was a beautiful day to let it all out, to let it go. Rachel said she would see me later in the week, I didn’t ask why. A sailor ran in our direction, “Commander Friedan, we’re gonna wrap up soon.” “Carry on Doc, I’ll be there” she shouted. “Go and unwind yourself, get yourself together, your going to have a rough day Wednesday, be ready. Take Care Sergeant.” “Good Afternoon Commander” I said coming to attention. McMichaels showed up and whisked me back to the barracks.
I unpacked a seabag and found my camera. I prepared a small back pack with toiletries, a change of clothes and some water. I bought some trailmix and beef jerky at the PX. I checked out with the Duty NCO walked across the grass to MPD North and asked Sergeant Jackson to tell me the patrol routes so I could hitch rides to Camp Schwab, Tiger Beach and Onna Onna Son. Me and the Almighty needed to talk.
I walked and prayed all Sunday afternoon, taking pictures, watching combat maneuvers, strolling the Okinawa countryside. It was a unique privilege I had in this life to be where I was.
My Uncle’s fought the Battle of Okinawa in World War II, they were here getting shelled and shot at by the Japanese. The honor was not lost on me, my Uncle’s and their generation took this island with blood, I administer this same Island they fought, bled and died for. I swelled with pride.
Cece’s voice and her words echoed in my head, like the sound of the siren that tempted brave Ulysses. “..stay in the Corp with me… I have no trouble being loyal to you”. It was getting dark, I stopped by a local store, knowing little if any Japanese I tried to communicate. The locals stared at me astonished and surprised. I bought a Coke, an old man came out from the back of the store and shook my hand. We sat on the steps of his store drinking Cokes and talking with each other. I was genuinely moved. I felt forgiven and respected.
The M.P. vehicle pulled up, it was Cpl. Kierken. As I left, I bowed in the Japanese tradition at waist level first, the old Japanese man bowed not as low as me, which is what I expected. I wanted him to know I respected him and thanked him.
“Sayōnara, I said in departure, then jumped in back of the Chevy Luv Pickup. I got back to Hansen, checked in and picked up my messages. I had a hot message from Cece, another message from “T” and a message from Division at Camp Pendleton.
I called Cece who invited me out to dinner, I told her I didn’t feel like eating but would call her after she pulled duty on Monday. I contacted MP Co., 1st Marine Division and talked to SSgt. VanAlden who assured me that they would ‘take care’ of Corporal Price and that the Marines in my old unit felt dishonored and betrayed by his actions. I thanked him and said I couldn’t tell them just how much they all meant to me. Then I called “T”.
“T” said, “Good news and more good news, RJ. First, Cpl. Price was busted in LA, transported back to Pendleton after his people came up with $50,000 bail. He will be arraigned on charges as soon as he gets out of the Medical wing.” What, why is he in Medical? “Some Mexican bitch skewered his balls with a hatpin. He will serve twice for the same crimes, first with LA, then we will Court Martial him on the same charges plus some”, said “T” with glee.
“I might celebrate tonight, “T” you with me?” “No man gotta work. You go ahead, party…” I washed up, changed clothes, got some chow and got a ride to White Beach. McMichaels told me about a club mostly tourists went to because of the huge cover charge, Club Champion not far from the beach. I had some cash, so I went.
It was a very nice split level building, new construction, without any signs on it and no name. As I approached the door I was told their was a cover charge, I thought it would be about $50 bucks. $100 dollars U.S. the attendant said as he brushed his sleeve. I thanked him and was about to walk off when I saw her. Haruka was in a blue grey business suit and thin dark glasses. “He has been taken care of” said Haruka to the attendant who acknowledged her with a bow.
“Sergeant James will be seated up front, near the stage…Welcome to Club Champion” said Haruka. As I was being seated I noticed a more mature, cultured and cosmopolitan clientele than in the military bars in Kin Kin Cho. It was spacious with rooms off to the side and in the back with a huge bar and real nice grill.
The seats were very comfortable around large glass tables. As I sat drinking I nearly did a spit take as Kayo dressed in a tight pink and yellow satin mini skirt took to the stage.
After she introduced some preliminary strip acts, she explained about the “Championship dance series”. Essentially it was a contest to see how many women a man could ‘dance’ with before he lost his load.
Bets were taken by the house, the winner would get a prize after the house took a nice cut. Many men made bets, and after being sufficiently liquored up, took to the stage. As the second guy took to the stage Haruka tapped me on the shoulder and I followed her to the cashier.
Haruka then pointed discreetly to a room, her eyes demanded I go, so I went. Kayo was seated while an older Japanese woman prepared something on the counter, this was essentially a clean room, like a doctors office. “We are going into a business proposition, you will dance after you bid to take more women than the rest, you must last at least 10 minuets after the last woman gets started on you. Understand” said Kayo. I asked if that was cheating. “Dance or pay”, she snapped.
“O.K., I’ll dance, but I can’t guarantee I won’t blow like ‘Old Faithful’, I see what those dancers are doing up there” I said skeptically. “Leave that to me, remember what we did at my place, your going to be prepared in sort of the same way, undress and lay down” commanded Kayo. I got real nervous real fast as the old woman approached me with those long thin acupuncture needles. “Relax, your going to have the time of your life…I promise” said Kayo. I was terrified.
There were seven men on stage before me and I came back on the seventh act. So far this last guy handled four dancers before he shot his wad. Kayo got on stage, “Who can do better, none, so it looks like this gentleman…” I stood up and said I could do ‘5’ women. Kayo looked and sneered, “Oh, can you…get on stage.”
The show was on and I was being pimped. “Place your bets, place your bets now” barked Kayo as the floor girls collected the wagers.
As I got on stage, one of the dancers looked at me and gave me brief instructions , “let us touch you, bend you and do what we want – go with it.”
70’s soul music was being jammed loudly, the first two dancers both in skin tight, sleeveless, sheer lavender open leotards, the neckline plunged to the waist, revealing nearly all the cleavage of firm heaving breasts, they were bare legged with heels on. I went with the music as they stripped me in rhythm, I was now naked.
Naked, onstage with two erotic dancers, following their instructions, they got my manhood erect and gloved it discreetly. From the audience it looked like I was penetrating them as they moaned and gasped as I moved in motion faking a hard backdoor screwing. Then the third and fourth dancers came in, I did other “faked” sex with them that looked real, the audience was loosing their minds to this choreographed sex show. Then the fifth dancer came out and did her thing.
She used the other dancers to sit on as I was directed to put my erect member between her hefty tightly pressed breasts. The song was ‘Fire’ by the Ohio Players we did other acts that were out of the Kama Sutra. The crowd was now screaming, ranting and rowdy when the last dancer came out, now I was really nervous, it was Kayo. The other dancers stayed on stage doing exactly what Kayo commanded with mere gestures and eye movement.
The tempo changed as they played “Nikki” by Prince. I didn’t think it could get any raunchier, but it did. Kayo and I feigned analingus, cunnilingus, fellatio and we did other acts where she was inverted in a "69. Then it got real.
She put her hands behind her and arched her back, two dancers crawled under her to give support as she pulled me into her. The real intercourse lasted awhile, about 20 minuets. The crowd had grown to capacity and was so loud the music was barely audible.
Before Kayo stopped to bend over with her backside to me and her face to the crowd, the dancers discreetly changed the raincoat on my manhood and Kayo said “go all the way.”
I don’t remember getting off the stage, dressed or back to the barracks. I do remember waking up with a slight headache that Memorial Day morning. I heard a knock on my door, “Yo’ man its me open up.” I let “T” in. “Man like you don’t have enough trouble, now you’re a male stripper. Here’s the money you won last night.” It was over $600 dollars. ‘Was I that good “T”?’ “Man, Kayo and Haruka are still talking about last night. The whole base knows.”
Tuesday came and I prepared for Wednesday, I was on the last day of the pass. Cece picked me up and we went to lunch at the NCO club at Kadena, after that we went to the beach. We talked quite a bit, then she put the question. Cece looked at me with cool stern eyes and said, “You just might realize you made a big mistake, if you do, call me Rod. Call my home in North Carolina, I’ll get the message.” I was kind of angry, Cece knew that but she didn’t back off and she looked straight into me.
At my review I was found fit for duty, I now had 35 days left. Major McKinley offered me a commission in the Marine Corps and orders to Quantico if I stayed. I declined. Upon returning to my unit I was sent to Captain Garrett. “Are you sure you want to go Sergeant, If you decide to stay you will be immediately Commissioned”, said the Captain. Before I could answer he said, “You also have 90 days to change your mind…take your time with this either way, O.K”.
‘I understand Sir, I will finish out my time here without any further distraction.’ “No Sergeant, you won’t, this is from HQMC” Captain read me my new orders. “…Proceed immediately to MCB Camp Pendleton, SU3, for immediate honorable discharge from the United States Marine Corps.” I couldn’t believe HQMC was discharging me over 30 days early.
I flew to L.A. unannounced, my key still worked to our apartment. I heard June and Jana come in and talk about how her doctor said she was lucky to be clean and healthy. I was in uniform standing out of sight in the living room. June walked in the living room without noticing me and almost walked out. June turned around and screamed, Jana ran in, June grabbed me and held me so tight I couldn’t breath. “I’m home for good June, I won’t leave you until death do us part.”
“How do I…I mean, can we …” I interrupted June, “No guilt, no shame, no fear…Just hold me love” I said looking in her tear stained face. “You must be kidding!” She then proceeded to rip my uniform off, Jana laughed and cried saying, “see you guys later” as she ran out the back door.
Deployment is a real hardship on everyone sent overseas in combat or combat support capacities. The sufferings and anguish of the separation is endured as much at home as it is abroad by the serviceperson in uniform. There are many stories like this with unhappy endings. If you know of a service person overseas, write them, If you know of one going overseas find a way to let them know they are appreciated.
Love.
11.01.2007
Another Look at Veteran’s Affairs
Here is some information regarding Veterans that everybody should know. If “assumption is the mother of all fuck ups” (quote from Under Seige 2) don’t assume Veterans are cared for.
Even now Veterans of every American conflict, I speak of those Veterans who are still living, are being denied benefits, denied treatment and are actively humiliated and maligned by the Government and the people they fought and bled for.
As we approach Veterans Day keep in mind that freedom isn’t free and some broken old man pushing a shopping cart full of what he might have left in this world, paid the price for all of us who live in this ‘ungrateful nation’.
Not all Veterans are homeless or hopeless, but none should be. The next time you have a meal or use the toilet consider this:
(photo from namguardianangel.org)
UNINSURED VETS: Coverage found limited
About one out of every eight veterans younger than 65 is uninsured, a finding that contradicts the assumption many have that all vets qualify for free health care through the Department of Veterans Affairs, a new study shows.
Researchers at Harvard Medical School projected that about 1.8 million veterans overall lack health coverage. That is an increase of 290,000 since 2000.
The researchers said most uninsured veterans are in the middle class and are ineligible for VA care because of their incomes. Still others cannot afford their co-payments or lack VA facilities in their community. The study is based on an analysis of government surveys released between 1988 and 2005. (UNINSURED VETS Compiled from the Associated Press)
If that doesn't give you a warm fuzzy feeling about our country and how it treats its Citizen Servicemember try this: Returning Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines are being denied the jobs they left to fight for Military Industrialists profits and President Bush's Iraqi Oil.
Here is a Halloween Story that should scare the shit out of you:
There are two groups: Department of Labor's Veterans Employment and Training Service (VETS)
These two groups are supposed to report to Congress about what is happening regarding Veterans employment and their resolution of the problem. While they attempt to pass the problem like a hot potato from one agency to another, Veterans loose their jobs, their homes, their wives (or husbands), their kids and their self worth.
In a hearing on Halloween Day the deceivers assembled in Washington to test a lie or testify before an oversight hearing of the Senate Veterans Affairs Committee chaired by Senator Daniel K. Akaka of Hawaii. Here are some excerpts from the minuets of that meeting:
WASHINGTON, D.C. - U.S. Senator Daniel K. Akaka (D-HI), Chairman of the Veterans' Affairs Committee, held an oversight hearing today on the Uniformed Services Employment and Reemployment Rights Act, known as USERRA. The Committee questioned panelists on a variety of topics, including jurisdiction over USERRA claims. Chairman Akaka expressed particular concern about the number of USERRA claims being brought by returning servicemembers in connection with their employment in the federal workforce.
One witness, Mathew Tully, shared the struggles he faced to return to his old job after serving a tour of duty, describing in detail the issues he faced in regaining his job with the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Mr. Tully, a member of the New York National Guard who was accompanied by his wife and one-year-old son, will deploy shortly to the Middle East for his second tour.
Other witnesses at today's hearing included George H. Stalcup, Director, Strategic Issues, U.S. Government Accountability Office; Honorable Charles S. Ciccolella, Assistant Secretary for Veterans' Employment and Training, U.S. Department of Labor; and Honorable Jim Byrne, Deputy Special Counsel, U.S. Office of Special Counsel, accompanied by Patrick Boulay, Chief, USERRA Unit.
Senator Akaka said in his opening statement:
“As our troops are returning home from battle, many of them seek to return to the jobs that they held prior to their military service, particularly those serving in Guard and Reserve units. USERRA, which is set forth in chapter 43 of title 38, United States Code, provides these servicemembers with certain protections. USERRA also sets out certain responsibilities for employers, including to reemploy returning veterans in their previous jobs.
If you know of a Veteran, any Veteran, this current War, Gulf 1, Lebannon/Grenada, Vietnam or earlier, going through difficulty or hardship contact the VA on their behalf and get all the information you can to help them. As Veterans Day approaches in this a Veterans Month, I ask that you locate all the Veterans you know of good, bad, rich, poor whether in good health or not and let them know you give a damn about their sacrifice and their existence.
Be a blessing
Love.
RJ
10.01.2007
Not for Glory but for Life
“A veteran (from Latin vetus, meaning "old") is a person who is experienced in a particular area, and is particularly used in Russia and the United States to refer to people in the armed forces. It often refers to retired armed services personnel. A veteran is one who has served in the armed forces and has an honorable discharge; a common misconception is that one had to have either been in combat and/or has retired from active duty to be called a veteran. Because of this widely held misconception, women have often been excluded from this equation.”
I stopped by the ancient dive late Saturday night (after 10:00) to just sit quietly and have a beer. It was a real rough Saturday for me. I had to get two cord of wood stacked for the winter and I just couldn’t do it (bad injuries). So I got promised some help that didn’t show up and my Gardener and one of his helpers stacked half of it.
I, like an idiot, between low crawling and waddling stacked the other half, one cord of wood (4’X4’X8’) one piece of wood at a time (It took about three hours). I found myself in the bar and it was pretty noisy. ERL, Evie, Dino, P.T. and a lot of the younger crowd who flow in an out semi regularly were there also.
BeyBey was behind the Bar and she seemed to have everything in hand. Low light, cigarette smoke wafting through the bar and most in attendance were riding out a good buzz. A dart thrower, Irish guy from Sheepshead Bay, in his early thirties, started rattling off stuff about the military and this current “war”. “What’s your name” I got in edgewise, (his mouth didn’t stop running) he said ‘Redd’.
Redd started to tell me all about the Army and the Marine Corps and this thing the Marines call ‘Semper Fi’. He went on to explain brainwashing and how unfit some military people are to come back to the U.S. Redd went on to babble about how good we’re doing militarily even though some Veterans come back “fucked up”.
(Why me, why now, Why am I here?) “You look like an intelligent guy” said Redd as he continued his diatribe (I wonder what made him come to that realization). By then P.T. (Doc’s Sister) came by and gave me a hug. I excused myself from this one way conversation for a moment and P.T. let Redd know I was a Marine. Then, thank God, Chucky showed up and exclaimed, “RJ, Why are you always instigating that religious stuff, good grief”, Chucky exclaimed.
Redd got distracted for a minuet and Chucky quickly figured out this guy may not know what the hell he’s talking about. (Really?) Chucky got me a beer and I listened to his acute observations about life and getting along with people. Chucky related a lesson about love and forgiveness he learned from his 11 year old daughter. He told me some people just try to hard ‘fit in’. (I see where he was going).
Redd came back, to resume where he left off, I broke in and made three quick points: I am a veteran of the Marine Corps, a Combat M.P. The Marines answer directly to the President of the United States and can be committed to conflict without consent of Congress. I quoted the National Security Act of 1947 and explained that all armed service members defend the constitution but do not live under its protection.
I finally explained Semper Fi is short for Semper Fidelis – which means “Always Faithful”. I told Redd that I am an American Legionnaire and talk regularly to Iraq War Veterans. (Redd knew that he just embarrassed himself) Redd went to shoot darts. Chucky shook his head and smiled. We talked a while longer he had another beer and went home.
Sunday, I was in as 'almost' usual. I watched a news show before I left explaining why America is going to be in Iraq another 4 to 6 years. I turned it off, had dinner with Mom and came here, to this ancient dive to shoot pool, drink and forget. The regulars floated in and out. Yaega Lee was behind the Bar.
Biker Bob was in early also, Dusty, Wouff and Devilynn were there. The Met Fan showed up only to be consoled by everyone at the Bar. There were some new faces and all was pretty good so far. Limpin Pimp showed up and decided to sit with me for a few. (Why not!) He was attempting to use religious justification for dumping his woman. I explained that God has nothing to do with it. (Limpins Girl’s new junk habit might have something to do with being dumped).
I walked outside to get some fresh air and saw an old bumper sticker on a beat up car. “Support the War, …Support the Troops”. I was angry. Another reminder of what I choose to forget. Inside at the bar someone talked about social resources, can’t get Medicaid, but the Military gets billions. I tried to ignore this as I watched the Mets loose…again.
Shelly arrived to relieve Y.L., I spoke to her about the absence of the Menhaters from a Jets game. Shelly said, they were at the Baby Shower for Pregnant Lily, they tired themselves out. “You know how women get at Baby Showers”, Shelly said. Yeah, very excited about a new life coming into this old world. I thought this to myself.
I then sat down, stared into my beer and almost cried. What kind of world is that kid coming into? Even with this stupid ass conflict we call a war, we glorify the conflict. We do it very unintentionally. We show incredible aircraft, ships, missiles, and weapons that can ‘take out the enemy’. We don’t show the flag draped caskets, the weeping wife, the orphaned child or the broken mother and father.“Are you alright”, Yaega Lee said as she looked into my face. I said I was fine, I lied.
I thought about this country and what some administrations have done in the name of ‘democracy’. When I think of all the Great Wars, I think of all the great villains of those wars. Who and what were we fighting?
When any country doesn’t account for itself and what it does under the pretense of honor or self defense, the final accounting is effected when a new group of ‘kids’ have to go to war to cover past fuck-ups.
America sometimes help to create its enemies, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto who orchestrated the attack on Pearl Harbor by creating at the time, what arguably was the worlds most effective Carrier Task Force, is an alumnus of both Harvard University and the U.S. Naval War College. Yamamoto learned Carrier strategy and tactics from the U.S. Navy.
Nguyn Sinh Cung a former galley cook from French Indo-China, who briefly lived in Harlem, worked for the OSS in WWII, the OSS financed, armed and trained Nguyn in clandestine tactics. Nguyn Sinh Cung was renamed by the Indo-Chinese, The Great Soul, he is known to the world as Ho Chi Mihn.
The CIA in Afghanistan in the 1980’s armed, financed and trained the Taliban and the mujahideen (Iran-Contra). The Chinese and Egyptians were in on the Arms deal for the Afghan rebels and other groups fighting the soviets. A group of Saudi Nationals joined with the mujahideen. Also trained by Egyptians, Chinese and CIA, one of these Saudis became quite a popular mujahideen fighter and leader. He is Osama Bin Laden.
I thought about Redd on Saturday night along with Pregnant Lily’s coming child. Redd is intoxicated by the power of warfare, the so called ‘glory of war’. Lily’s kid is coming into a world where he or she may be deprived of health care, education and opportunity because of war. Even worse, her child may have to fight the next war.
I think of every burned out, depressed and wounded Veteran who served and what we fought for. We fought so another kid on another day wouldn’t have to. Everyone thinks that the only ones who actually fought are to be called ‘Veteran’. So many soldiers, sailors and airmen didn’t go overseas and get shot at. But they did do their part to keep America safe and they also deal with the side effects of war.
Redd is a ‘good boy’ who pines for the glory of war, dress blue uniforms decorated with medals, Combat equipment on parade and Airshows displaying every new combat aircraft. I think of the child coming into the world, grieving families, broken men with broken lives, widowed men and women who have to find a way to move on.
To quote a bitterly depressed soldier who was labeled as ‘crazy’, “There's many a boy here today who looks on war as all glory but it is all hell. – General William Tecumseh Sherman”. My feeling is summed up in this quote from a song, “Heaven help the roses if the bombs begin to fall, Heaven help us all. –Stevie Wonder
Veterans Day and the Marine Corps Birthday are coming in November (10th for the Marine Corps, 11th is Veterans Day.) Do something for a Veteran in November, if its just a handshake or a hug, do it. No matter what your political affiliation or beliefs pro or con, write your congressperson. Pregnant Lily’s baby should have a choice not to be another soldier.
As General Sherman said, “War is too serious a matter to leave to soldiers.”
Love!
RJ
