Return on Investment

The Colonel isn't a conspiracy theorist -- when it comes to this republic's national government, he just doesn't think it is competent enough to pull off the kinds of convoluted secretive plans with which it is often credited.

What the Colonel does believe our republic's national government is very capable of is taking the path of least resistance and punishing its citizens instead of the nation's enemies.

For the past two decades plus, the U.S. federal government has done just that -- justifying restrictions on constitutionally protected rights in the name of security, while conducting little more than what professional military thinkers and planners would regard as "limited objective" operations.

To be sure, that sort of governmental reaction to outside threats is not a new phenomenon.  One can find federal reactionary restrictions in every "emergency" since the founding of the Republic.  They all amount to accumulation and consolidation of power in the hands of the national governing elite at the expense of the individual and State rights explicitly "guaranteed" in the Constitution and justified as necessary for the safety and security of the individuals and States.

Here's the rub -- the citizens of the Republic already pay an exorbitant price in blood and treasure for their security. The American people fund and field the most effective security apparatus the world has ever seen -- the United States Armed Forces.  American taxpayers field an all-volunteer force, equip it with state-of-the-art weapons, supply it like no other force in the history of warfare, train it like no other force in the history of armies, and compensate its members on a scale way beyond any other on earth.   And yet, instead of seeing a return on their most costly investment, the American people watch the most effective bulk of their military sit idly in their barracks as threats to their security gather in plain sight.

Mark the Colonel's words, another major attack on U.S. soil is coming.  The Colonel harbors not one shred of doubt in his military mind that another attack is coming -- and you don't either.

When it does, (in the Colonel's version of a perfect world -- BEFORE it does), the citizens of this great republic deserve a rich return on their investment -- not a doubling down of restrictions on their rights.

Sawa, sawa! Maape!

 

The man behind the Immigrations and Customs counter at Chicago O'Hare asked the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda, "Who is this gentleman with you?"

"Who? Him? That's my husband, Knucklehead."

"I'm sorry ma'am," the 'Denied Entry' stamp grasped menacingly in his bureaucratic fist.  "What did you just call me?"

"Oh, no! Not you! That's my husband.  I call him 'Knucklehead' because, well..."  Miss Brenda rolled her eyes in the Colonel's direction.

A quick glance at the Colonel standing slack jawed and bleary eyed behind her in line explained the appellation.

"I see. And where did you take your husband?"

"We've been on safari in Kenya for two weeks."

"Okay. Anything to declare?"

The comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda channeled Scarlet O'Hare, "I do declare that we had the most wonderful time!"

The man behind the counter blinked twice and looked at the Colonel, who, stupefied by 16 hours of air travel in the cheap seats, could only muster a shoulder shrug. 

"Ma'am, I mean any goods purchased. Any trophies?"

"Oh. No, just lots of pictures."

Counter Man stamped the passports, "Welcome, home."

The Colonel and Miss Brenda weren't exactly "home" yet.  But before she could launch into an explanation of where home really was, the Colonel grasped Miss Brenda's elbow and guide her away with a "Thank you, sir." to Counter Man.

Home was still a three-hour flight and a one-hour drive away.  But it was good to be back in the good ole U.S. of A. 

The previous two weeks had been a whirlwind of bucket list checking for the Colonel, Miss Brenda, her twin sister Linda, and the Colonel's brother-in-law Bruce (not to be confused with his other brother, Bruce). After flights from Memphis to Dallas to London to Nairobi, the stay in Kenya began with an 18-hour jet-lag recovery in the Eka Hotel.  The next morning a guide picked up the Mississippi Four (as they later became known) and drove them to the regional airport that services domestic flights. They boarded a 12-passenger Cessna 208 and were quickly airborne over the wilds of Kenya, headed for Porini Maji, the first of four Porini Camps sited on Nature Conservancies. 

After an hour flight, the Cessna landed on a dirt strip in the absolute middle of nowhere and the pilot announced, "Welcome to Selenkay International Airport."

The Selenkay Conservancy was the first unfenced private property established in Kenya as a not-for-profit organization to both preserve wildlife and benefit local tribes.  In Kenya, the conservancy model provides land on the periphery for indigenous tribes.  The conservancy is managed by a board in cooperation with the local village elders, with the agreement that a portion of the conservancy is allocated for grazing of the village's cattle and goat herds, the remaining majority set aside and protected for wildlife.  Partnerships with private companies hosting limited tent camp non-hunting safaris provide employment for the local villagers -- a ten-tent camp hosting a maximum of 20 guests at any one time employs nearly three dozen staff (hospitality and game-drive guides).  Selenkay became the model for several more like conservancies with safari company partnerships.  The Mississippi Four stayed at four of them over the course of 12 days, with flights between adjacent dirt strips.

The company with which the Colonel's group stayed for ten total nights is Porini, which means "in the wild" in Swahili.  Accommodations can best be described as luxury camping.  Some might argue with the "luxury" tag, but the Colonel has slept in a lot of tent camps over the years that didn't have floored tents with flush toilets, showers (albeit by bucket), and electricity; not to mention turn down service including a hot water bottle that perfectly warmed the bed for the rather cool nights.  Game drives started early each morning, preceded by a wake-up call by an attendant with a tray of coffee, tea, and biscuits, as well as a pitcher of hot water for shaving.  Most breakfasts were picnics on the plains after a couple of hours of viewing wildlife from specially modified vehicles.

Each vehicle sat no more than six guests and included a driver and guide who expertly located the animals the guest particularly wanted to photograph, as well as pointing out all manner of flora and fauna along the way.  As the vehicle slowly traversed the terrain, mammal and bird life was often not much further than a stone's throw away, and sometimes even disconcertingly closer, as was the case with lion prides at fresh kills, bull cape buffalo fights, and long-tusked bull elephants in musth.  The guides taught guests the Swahili words for "okay; let's go" -- "sawa, sawa; maape," which indicated that the photographers in the group had their shots, and it was time to go find something else at which to marvel.

   

After a six-hour morning game drive guests were returned to camp to freshen up before lunch.  When not picnicking, meals were served in a luxury mess tent.  Again, one might argue with the term "luxury", but the Colonel has eaten many meals in camp over the years that didn't include tablecloths, three courses, and drinks of choice. Lunch was always followed by a three-hour afternoon rest.  

At around four each afternoon a short "time of tea" prepared guests for the evening game drive.  And, as the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the guides would find a spot to watch the sun set.  This "sundowner" was complete with a table set for snacks and drinks.  And nearly always the atmosphere provided the ingredients for spectacular animal-silhouetting sunsets.  At dark, guests were returned to camp to freshen up for dinner.

Chairs around a campfire provided perfect perches for performing after action reviews of the day, and then dinner was served sharply at eight. Meals included fare familiar to western palates, but also included samplings of local foods.  The Colonel found the goat preparations particularly interesting, the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda not so much.

Nights in camp were not quiet. Wildebeest males guarded their mating sites with incessant grunting, the occasional lion roared in much too close proximity, and, in one camp, hippos left a nearby river pool to snort complaints and munch grass surrounding the tents. Hippos kill more people in Africa than any other animal, so the Colonel will admit that having nothing but canvass separating bed and tusks was a bit disconcerting. The Colonel is happy to report that no tourists were eaten, trampled, or otherwise harmed in the making of this trip.

Following introductions with the other guest parties, the Colonel's party quickly became known to the other guests as the "Mississippi Four."  One lady originally from Switzerland would greet us accordingly and the Colonel would respond with "Swiss Family Robinson!"  High hilarity, that.

Escape from Nairobi 

Of course, no long-distance, long-endurance trip by the Colonel and the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda is complete without some drama entailing sickness, missed or delayed flights, or a combination of the two.  Miss Brenda's silent migraine (no pain, just dizziness) decided that the last two days of the trip would be a boffo time to present itself.  She was a trooper, though, and kept to the rigorous game drive schedule with the help of the Colonel's arm.

By the time we arrived at the airport in Nairobi to catch the first of three flight legs home to the Sip, the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda was flat wore out.  Seeing the very long lines at check in and security, and seeing Miss Brenda eyeing the situation warily, a wheelchair was requested.

What ensued was the makings of a potential travel nightmare.

The supervisor at the check-in counter wanted to know why Miss Brenda was in a wheelchair.  When told she was experiencing migraine symptoms, he determined that she was not well enough to make the nine-hour flight to London.  A call in to the medical bureaucracy resulted in the recommendation that Miss Brenda spend a few more days in Nairobi, rest and hydrate, and get a doctor's clearance to fly.

As much as we had enjoyed the previous two weeks in Kenya, spending a few more days at the whim of faceless bureaucrats was, in the Colonel's not-so-humble opinion, unacceptable, and he made that forcefully (but just under the threshold requiring the intervention of security) known.  We were given the option of appealing the bureaucrat's decision to the captain of the flight when he arrived to board. Turns out British Airways captains -- at least this particular one -- are possessed with extraordinary common sense as well as command skill, and the Mississippi Four were soon aboard the flight.

Most every trip the Colonel has ever been on has provided a lasting lesson learned on which to reflect and rely on future trips.  

This one?

If someone in an airport asked you if you need a wheelchair..., SAY: NO!

For those of you wondering about the health and welfare of the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda, fear not.  She was home executing her farm chore responsibilities within 36 hours. 

Height Supremacy

It always surprises the Colonel when he hears complaints about white "supremacy" and the actions of supposed white "supremacists."

He for dang sure ain't never known or seen one in action.  Not during his career in the Marines, nor during his retirement here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere. 

But, the Colonel can testify for hours on end about the egregious endeavors of countless height supremacists.   

That's right.  You know who you are.  You and your not-so clever jabs and nicknames thinly disguising your bias toward someone of lesser physical stature.

You didn't think you were height supremacists, but your words spoke volumes.  Consider the following not all-inclusive sampling of nicknames the Colonel lived with -- and he's not making one of them up.   

"Short round."

"Inky-dink."

"Half-pint."

"The Fly."  Well, that one may have been hung on him by the members of his first rifle platoon because (and the Colonel quotes),  "The Lieutenant eats (barnyard excrement) and bothers people."

"Guilder."  You know, because the Colonel could have been a member of the munchkin lollipop guild. 

"Mini-me." 

"Small-fry."

"SU."  Pronounced "sue" -- acronym for "short and unimpressive."  Actually hung on the Colonel by a boss.  That boss was projecting a bit -- he towered over the Colonel by no more than an eighth of an inch.  The Colonel supposes height supremacy knows no altitude limits. 

"Edapolian."  Hung on the Colonel by his seminar group at the Air Command and Staff College, supposedly for his views on imperialism and territorial expansion.  Not so bad, you say.  They could have picked a taller imperialist...; say, Genghis or Attila.  Frankly, if you're gonna hang a height supremacist moniker on the Colonel for his unabashed imperialism, he would much prefer a nod to the great (and quite diminutive) James K. Polk whose nickname, "Little Hickory," would be far more preferable.  (Then again, Polk's other nickname -- from his campaigning -- was "Napoleon of the Stump," so...)  

"Little Doug."   The Colonel shares Douglas MacArthur's birthday -- January 26--  and the latter's penchant for dramatics.

"Pup."

"Knee-high."

The Colonel could go on -- his list of growth-impaired grievances is long -- but, you get the picture.

Or, maybe you don't.  Maybe you secretly harbor your height supremacists views.  Maybe you think there ought to be a separate world for those of us whose existence below your sight plane pose a dangerous trip hazard.

Or, maybe..., you aren't a mere height supremacist at all.  Maybe you're just an out and out heightist -- someone who views all of us below your sight plane as (no pun intended) beneath you.

Someone just not as capable as you.

Someone whose outward genetic appearance prompts your disdain.

Whatever, dude.

That's your problem.

It was never the Colonel's.  In the long-run, it didn't stop him.

The Marines don't grant honorary colonelcys. 


Now, if you will excuse His not-so Highness, the Colonel has some trouser legs to hem up...      



   

Punctatus Park

The other day, the Colonel and his bride -- the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda -- took their evening stroll down to the dock on Lake Brenda to feed the fish.  As the Colonel watched his best friend ladle handfuls of fish food pellets into lazy catfish mouths, he was struck by a enormous inspiration...

"Owww!"

"What are you whining about now, knucklehead?" The comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda is always closely and carefully attuned to the Colonel's health and welfare.

"The Colonel was just struck by an enormous inspiration!"

"Greeaat.  Another project.  You haven't finished the last forty-six projects you've started over the last ten years."

"What are you talking about?  The Colonel has mostly finished most of his projects.  Besides, if he completely finishes a project, you'll just start adding your projects to his list, and..."

"Watchit, there, Marine.  The things I ask you to do are not 'projects.'  They are requirements to keep the house from falling down around our ears."

"The Colonel would hardly call setting up your quilting frame a requirement related to the structural integrity of the Big House."

"Careful there, knucklehead...  And, why must you always refer to our modest abode as the 'Big House'."

"To differentiate it from there other dwellings on the property, dear."

"What other dwellings?"

"Well, the cabin, for one."

"Cabin? What cabin?"

"The cabin the Colonel is gonna build down here next to the dock on Lake Brenda."

"Forty-seven."

"Huh?"

"That makes forty-seven projects." 

The Colonel paused for a minute, allowed his lower jaw to relax in the slack position favorable to mental calculations, and began counting his projects.

"Are you having a seizure, knucklehead?!?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Your pie hole was hanging open, your tongue was hanging out, and your eyes were rolled back in your head!  That's why!"  The comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda was clearly concerned.  "You looked goofier than a Mississippi State fan with a traumatic brain injury from too much cowbell."

"The Colonel was counting..."

"Well stop!  It's getting dark and I don't want to be out here all night.  Besides, what was this great inspiration you were babbling about."

"Huh? Great insp...?  Oh! You mean the Colonel's enormous inspiration.  Well, it occurs to the Colonel that one of the things missing the most here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere is a family oriented animal attraction theme park.  You know, with the price of gas and restaurant groceries climbing through the roof, folks hereabout just can't afford to drive all the way to Orlando to watch Shamu and his siblings and cousins leaping and splashing."

"Wrap up the preamble ramble, Marine.  The mosquitos are starting to bite."

"Well it occurs to the Colonel that we have the makings of a first class family oriented animal attraction theme park right here on the shores of Lake Brenda."

"Why must you persist in using my name in reference to this scummy mud puddle?"

The Colonel ignored the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda's shade thrown on what will soon become the central aquatic feature in the region's newest family oriented animal attraction theme park and held forth with his vision for economic development of his vast holdings at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere.   

"So, the Colonel is thinking it is about time these catfish start earning their keep around here.  We've been shoveling tons of fish food pellets down their lazy gullets, and..."

"Yeah, about that, knucklehead.  How much does this stuff cost?"

"You don't wanna know.  Anyway, the Colonel is thinking we've already got these fish trained to achieve vertical orientation in the water column, with mouths protruding above ALL..."

"A L L?"

"Above Lake Level.  We got 'em trained to do that to have food poured into their mouths.  Seems to the Colonel that we ought to next be able to train them to leap out of the water to get their food. Then we can train them to do flips and spins and tail walks..."

"They're catfish, knucklehead!  Nobody's ever trained a catfish to do that!  

"Exactly!  We're gonna be rich!"

"Not if the fish food bill gets out of hand, we won't.  Besides, isn't a catfish brain kinda small?  We aren't talking about dolphin or killer whale level intelligence here."

"Seems to the Colonel that's an advantage for us -- they won't know they are being exploited.  And, conditioned response is a much stronger stimulus than reasoned intelligence."

"You just made that last part up!  Your degree was in political science -- not psychology.  Besides, you didn't even go to college.  You went to Ole Miss, instead."

The Colonel ignored the rapidly darkening shade thrown and finished with a flourish, "We shall call it...  'Punctatus Park!"

"Punky what!?"

"Punctatus.  Ictalurus Punctatus -- the scientific name for the channel catfish." 

"You just made that up, too, didnya knucklehead?"

"Nope.  Look it up.

"Welp, knucklehead, if you don't get me back up to the big house before dark, you can look up the legal name for spousal abuse."

"Why, my dear, the Colonel would never lay a hand on you!"

"Yep. I know that, knucklehead.  But I am not so constrained."


The Colonel has an appointment Monday morning with a patent attorney -- this is gonna be huge!  

Big Critters

The Colonel's vast holdings at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere -- known to him and the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda as Egeebeegee -- ain't an easy place to find.  As the Colonel told a sub-contractor working on renovations to the big house who remarked about the location, "You've got to be wanting to come here.  You aren't going to just drive by this place."

Everyone who pulls off of the road through the middle of nowhere and up the long drive that curls around Lake Brenda, climbs out of their vehicle with nearly the same comment:

"Beautiful place you got here."

And then, "Any deer in these woods?"

The Colonel has taken to replying to that query with, "Nope.  The elk keep 'em run off."

The response is always a variation on the same theme,  "Elk?  Did you say you got elk out here?  Didn't know we had any elk in Mississippi.  Least wise I ain't never seen one."

 The Colonel twitches the lure enticingly, "Been watching a herd down by Lake Brenda all morning.  You musta drove right by 'em."

"Lake Brenda? Oh, you mean that there little pond between here and the road."  

"It's not a pond!  It's a lake!  Lake Brenda! 

"Uh, okay.  Whatever, mister.

"Colonel."

"Whut?"

"Not a mister.  Colonel.  Call me Colonel."

"Huh?  Oh.., heh, heh.  You mean like Colonel Reb.  I'm a State fan muhself.  Hayul State!"

"Figured as much, with your diesel pickup all painted up maroon and white..."

"Purdy ain't it.  Hayul State!"

"Musta been the diesel smoke that spooked the elk"

"Seriously?  Didn't see 'em."

The Colonel reels up the slack in the line and sets the hook, "My elk are really hard to spot.  Imported a special breed from Colorado a few years back.  Game ranch out there does gene splicing and crossed an especially elusive elk with a hyperactive chameleon..."

"They crossed a eyulk with one of them little fellas from the insurance commercial?

"Gecko."

"Tha's whut ah sayed.  Gecko insurance."

  

Or..., "Any fish in yore pond?"

"Lake.  It's a lake.  Ponds don't have names.  That's Lake Brenda."

"Uh..., okay, mister..."

"It's Colonel..."

"You mean like Colonel Reb?  I'm a 'Bama fan, muhself.  Roll tide!"

"Never would have guessed, what with the great big A on the hood of your pick-up..."

"Purdy ain't it?  Roll Tide!  Hunnert and fifty-two Nachnul Champ'ships!"

"You ever even been to Tuscaloosa?"

"Nope, but it's on muh buckit list!  Hey, you got enny fish in that there pond?  I'd like to bring the younguns out and let 'em fish..."

"No fish in Lake Brenda -- the gator ate 'em all."

"Gator!  You got a gator in yore pond?!?"

"Yep.  Big one.  Seen it pull an elk down..."

"A eyulk!  You got elk out here!"


Don't even get the Colonel started on the black panthers and sasquatches... 








        

Columbus Dei

The Colonel doesn't understand the big deal about Columbus.

Seriously, he got lucky.

Timing is everything and the Genoese (Italy didn't exist at the time) map-maker hit the court of Ferdinand and Isabella at just the right time.  The rulers of the united kingdoms of Castile and Aragon (Spain didn't exist at the time) were feeling froggy after finally running the last of the Moors out of the Iberian peninsula and they jumped at the chance to enrich themselves with the opening of a new trade route to the Orient.

But, if Columbus hadn't gotten backing from the court of Castile, the Colonel feels quite comfortable in positing that another intrepid explorer from any one of a number of European countries would have very soon found his way across the Atlantic and washed up on a beach in the Caribbean or found shelter in a bay along the North American eastern seaboard.  It was just a matter of time.

Heck, French fishermen were already sailing pretty darn close.  And, we don't need to even begin a discussion about Norse longboat landings several centuries prior to that of Columbus's leaky second-hand caravels.  

It's a bit ironic, since Columbus was in search of a westward sailing route to China, that there's fairly good circumstantial evidence that a Chinese mariner hit the west coast of North America seventy years before Columbus bumped into the Bahamas.

The Colonel's point, blunt as it may be, is that we make far too much of a big deal out of Columbus (Cristobal Colon).  His "discovery" of the "new world" was a happy accident (happy, unless you happened to be an Arawak) that would have been accomplished by somebody else within a very few years.

(For the Bama and LSU fans who may have stumbled upon this blog whilst searching for pachyderm print toilet paper or a corn dog recipe, the Arawaks mentioned above were the inhabitants of the Caribbean islands when Columbus arrived.  They no longer exist.) 

And, while we're on the subject (if tangentially) of European exploitation of the Western Hemisphere, can we please dispense with the tired, and quite specious, argument that the "native" inhabitants of the Americas would have continued to live peaceful, noble lives in complete harmony with their environment if not for European interference.   

First of all, even the most cursory examination of Amerindian history reveals rampant inter-tribal warfare (replete with massacres, displacement, and -- gasp! -- cultural appropriation), large-scale terra-forming and nature-displacing city-building, and wholesale destruction of local environments.   

Second, even if Europeans had not attempted to colonize in the Americas and only contented themselves with establishing trade with the Amerindians, there would still have been no way to prevent the introduction of diseases for which the Amerindians had no natural resistance and from which perished upwards of 90% of the native populations extant in the Western Hemisphere at the end of the 15th Century, C.E.

Granted, the next three centuries of European exploitation of the Americas were replete with actions judged heinous by our "modern" sensibilities -- slavery and forced labor chief among them.  But, to assume that those practices began with the exploitation of the Americas, and were the exclusive province of European cultures, plumbs the depths of historical ignorance.

So, let's cool the Columbus jets, shall we?  Let's put his accomplishment in the proper perspective -- recognition, without lionization or stigma.

      

De Soto's Gold

The third book completed in the Colonel's summer professional reading program is Charles Hudson's "Knights of Spain, Warriors of the Sun; Hernando de Soto and the South's Ancient Chiefdoms."

The Colonel has long been fascinated by the notion of the exploration of the Southeastern interior by the Spanish two centuries before English-speaking colonies were established on the Eastern seaboard.  But, until now, that fascination had not carried much beyond the facts in the preceding sentence.  Hudson's book provides a narrative (complied from contemporary chronicles and supported by archeological evidence) of the de Soto expedition that not only puts flesh on the bones of the Colonel's skeletal knowledge, but provides detailed fatty tissue as well.

In the late Spring of 1541, an army of (mainly) Spanish explorers led by veteran conquistador Hernando de Soto crossed the Little Tallahatchie River somewhere within 20 or 30 miles of the Colonel's vast holdings here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere.  The exact site of the crossing is impossible to verify -- the Colonel would like to think that de Soto's army (or at least exploratory patrols therefrom) actually traversed ground now a part of the Colonel's vast holdings.  The lands through which they marched (between the Chicaza chiefdom near present day Columbus, Mississippi -- 100 miles to the southeast -- and the Quizquiz chiefdom on the Mississippi River south of present day Memphis) was an empty wilderness, devoid of human inhabitants.  

The Colonel is old, but even he wasn't around at the time to be able to verify.   

The de Soto expedition had begun nearly two years earlier.  Launched from Cuba in May of 1539, de Soto's army landed in Tampa Bay and from there literally fought (both against geography and inhabitants) their way around to present day Tallahassee, thence north through Georgia, South Carolina, and well into North Carolina before turning westward through the Appalachian mountains into Tennessee, and from there, into Alabama and then across Northern Mississippi.   

By the time they crossed the Little Tallahatchie, the original strength (approximately 600) of de Soto's army had been reduced by more than a third.  But, they had killed far, far more than that number of the inhabitants of the lands through which they marched, searching for "La Florida's" equivalent to the exceedingly rich culture of the Inca, participation in the subjugation of which had already made de Soto a rich and influential man.  The aim of de Soto's exploration of the Southeast was purely conquest and colonization of a wealth-producing culture for which he would be the principal and not just a participant.  

De Soto's army was an amalgam of seasoned soldiers and treasure-seeking adventurers.  They were armed with weapons and clad in armor that was at the pinnacle of warfare tactics and technology at the time.  A third of the army were horsemen, employing tactics honed in centuries of conflict against the Moorish invaders of the Iberian peninsula.  It was the warrior culture that had developed from the Iberian Christians' response to and eventual reversal of the Islamic invasion of the Iberian peninsula that made conquest of the New World's richest and most powerful civilizations possible, even when Spanish armies were vastly outnumbered by the armies of those civilizations.  

The men of de Soto's army, according to Hudson, did not identify as Spanish.  Spain, as we know it today, did not exist in the 16th Century.  The power on the Iberian peninsula belonged to the regions of Castile and Aragon (united by the marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella late in the 15th Century); those regions themselves being recent amalgamations of several smaller and distinct regions (some of which even today agitate for independence from Spain).  Hudson says that, rather than as Spaniards, the men of de Soto's army considered themselves Castilian, or natives of the smaller regions or towns of Iberia.  But, primarily, they identified as Christians.  This primary identification by religion, born of centuries in opposition to Islam, was so ingrained that it caused them to view all others as infidels.  The inhabitants of the Caribbean islands, the Inca, the Aztec, and the inhabitants of La Florida (as they referred to the land to the north and east of Mexico) were infidels, as well.  Infidels were to be subdued by the sword, conversion to Christianity was to be a consequence of conquest.   

That they viewed the native inhabitants of the New World as subservient infidels, explains (but doesn't excuse) the cruel and rapacious nature of their actions against them.  At every encounter with a new village or chiefdom, de Soto assumed the position of a superior, demanding tribute of corn (the staple of the late Mississippian culture of the Southeast and the primary victual on which the army subsisted) slaves, and riches. If the natives were accommodating, de Soto accepted and rewarded their subservience and tribute with little more than trinkets.  More often than not, the larger chiefdoms, upon which de Soto descended, reacted violently. By the time the army was in the Colonel's neck of the woods they had fought pitched, set-piece battles with a half dozen different large chiefdoms and running skirmishes throughout their trek with dozens of smaller chiefdoms.  The army suffered heavy losses of men and material, and by the second year of the expedition were clothed no better than the natives.

But still, de Soto pressed on.  At each new village and chiefdom, de Soto had but one overriding question: "Where is the largest city, and is there gold?"  The Inca or Aztec analog in La Florida did not exist, and de Soto literally wore himself and his army out in the fruitless search for it.   

Two years after landing in Tampa Bay, de Soto reached the Mississippi River near present day Memphis.  As they did at each major river on their march, the army built large boats and crossed the Mississippi, bringing scores of horses, several hundred hogs, and a couple hundred native slaves with them.  The next several months were spent searching for cities of gold throughout present-day Arkansas and Southeastern Missouri.  They found only scattered chiefdoms eager to repel the invaders from their territories.   Nearly a year after crossing the great river, his hopes of finding a rich civilization to subdue dashed, de Soto fell sick and died on the west bank of the Mississippi.

Before he died, de Soto conferred command of the army to Luis de Moscoso.  The army now wanted no more searching for gold and physical sacrifice.  They wanted to go southwest to Mexico, where their countrymen had established "civilized" colonies.  Moscoso first scouted for an overland route, but discovered increasingly difficult geography and fewer native villages from which to procure corn as they traveled into what is now East Texas.  They turned back to their starting point on the Mississippi River, built and provisioned boats, and sailed down the river to the Gulf and then west to Mexico.  Less than half the number that began the expedition in Cuba three years earlier made it to Mexico.

As Hudson narrates each leg of the de Soto expedition, he takes great pains to describe what is now known about the native cultures at each contact point.  The picture he paints is of a myriad small subcultures almost all influenced in one way or another by the late Mississippian, "mound-building," culture.

Mississippian culture began in the Mississippi River valley around 800 A.D.   Archeologists, who coined the term "Mississippian" to denote it, have determined that the culture grew out of a shift from hunting and gathering to an increasing dependency on the cultivation of corn; a grain that grew easily and robustly in the alluvial soils of the large river deltas of the Southeast, returned high yields, and endured long storage.  The cultivation of corn, as opposed to the nomadic nature of a hunter/gatherer lifestyle, rooted people in place.  A collection of family farms became a village.  A collection of villages became a chiefdom.  And, as the natural conflict of man continued, stronger chiefs conquered and annexed lesser chiefdoms, or at least demanded tribute from them.  

The enduring, dominant, and perhaps most characteristic trait of mankind is warfare.  Conflict between neighboring hominids is as old as one wants to peer back into the geological record.  Warfare between small collections of people tends to be limited -- characterized by raiding resulting in relatively low casualties.  In the case of the Mississippian cultures there was no clear economic or political incentive in completely wiping out one's neighboring enemy.  In many cases enmity between neighboring chiefdoms actually drove the development of larger and larger political associations, with political centers of power growing hand in hand with religious ritualism and necessitating the building of larger and larger civilization centers. 

By the time the army of de Soto arrived in the Southeast, the great Mississippian cultures had reached their zenith and were in decline.  In many local cases the decline had been cataclysmic, with little left but native remnants who knew nothing about the builders of the great earthen mounds around which they lived.  In some cases, great swaths of territory were completely devoid of inhabitants where once great numbers were extant.  The cause of the Mississippian culture's collapse is unknown, but was certainly either warfare, climate change, epidemic disease, or habitat destruction and crop failure; or a combination of all or parts of the above.   

Even the mighty chiefdoms -- Apalachee, Cofitachequi, Coosa, Chicaza, Quizquiz, Utiangue, Anilco, Quigualtam, and others -- thriving when de Soto arrived, were themselves gone a century later, the remnants of which coalesced into new tribal collectives, namely the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creeks, and Seminoles.  Contrary to uneducated popular belief, even these tribes were not 100% native American blood -- European and African interbreeding began with, and exponentially expanded from, first contact.   At the time of their removal from the Southeast in the 19th Century, each of the "five civilized" tribes were amalgams of many disparate native ancestors, European descendents, and former African slaves, each bound only by a shared language and relatively recently adopted cultural practices. 

The great irony of the de Soto story is that in the Spaniards' frantic search for instant wealth in the lands of La Florida, they catastrophically failed to see the forest for the trees.  The wealth of what became the Southeastern United States was not what gold or silver the ground did or did not produce, but the ground itself.  Had de Soto chosen a strategic position on the Mississippi River or any of the other major tributaries that either fed into the Mississippi or the Gulf of Mexico and established a colony, he could have eventually ruled an agricultural kingdom larger and richer than any on earth at the time.

Strategic myopia has always been, and will likely always be, the great limiting condition of man.                                                            

Making Generals

The Colonel has witnessed considerable hand-wringing from the enuresis-prone journalistic masses concerning the "over-militarization" of the current American administration.  Such concern, in the Colonel's not-so humble opinion, betrays a complete and inexcusable lack of subject matter knowledge.

For the Bama and LSU grads: They don't know what they are talking about.

It may come across as a bit parochial of the Colonel to say so, given that they are his contemporaries, but as far as his experience and historical study tells him, this generation's crop of flag officers (generals and admirals) are the best this nation has ever produced, and among the best the world has ever seen.  

Allow the Colonel to explain why.

First of all, since the inception of the All-Volunteer Force, competition for commission as an officer in our Republic's military has been increasingly stiff.  To qualify for a commissioning program, a candidate must score in the top tenth percentile of college entrance exams, effectively meaning that the officer corps is drawn from the top ten percent of young Americans.  In addition to high aptitude, an officer candidate must possess a near spotless moral background -- no arrests, no drug use, no documented anti-social behavior.  Completion of undergraduate studies and possession of a bachelor's degree is required for commissioning. 

Secondly, today's American military officer receives the most intensive initial training of any military in the world.  And, then, that officer receives yet another round of intensive training to qualify him or her for a specific specialty.  New officers spend anywhere from one quarter to one half of their obligated service (four to six years depending on commissioning source and occupational specialty) in initial and specialty training.  By the time new officers join their first operational unit, they have all they need to be successful, except experience.  

That leads us to the third point.  Experience as a military officer is one of the most valuable, yet underrated qualifications of any man or woman in their twenties attempting to enter the civilian job market.  By the time they are 26, American military officers have led, in highly strenuous training, if not battle, groups of men and women numbering 40 to 100, on continuous missions replete with life and death decisions.  By the time officers reach high flag rank, they have led thousands of men and women in the most challenging environments, operating the most technologically complex systems, and conducting the most dangerous tasks on the planet.    

Fourthly, the American military is today one of the world's most finely tuned meritocracies.  It isn't perfect.  But, advancement in our Republic's military is truly "what you know and did" and only marginally influenced by "who you know and what you did for them."  It is possible to hitch one's wagon to a rising star, but that will carry you only so far.  The military's assignment apparatus stirs the officer corps to a heady froth.  It is rare to serve more than a couple of 2 or 3 year tours with the same folks over a twenty-year career.  Promotion and command screening boards are fairly adept at spotting and negating favoritism.   

Fifth, our Republic's military has the foremost continuing education program in the world, military or civilian.  By the time an officer has surpassed twenty years service and been advanced to the rank of colonel (Navy captain), he has typically attended two or three professional military education (PME) schools and possesses one or more advanced degrees.  This Colonel's PME is typical of a Marine officer -- at the 8 year mark, a year at a school to prepare him for operations at the battalion level; at the 15 year mark, a year at a school to prepare him to think strategically and act operationally as part of a high-level staff in a joint (with other services) and combined (with other nations) environment; at the 21 year mark, a year at a school to prepare him to employ not just the military components of power to further national strategy, but the political and economic, as well.  At the 17 year mark, this Colonel, on his off-duty time, completed study for a Masters of Science in Human Resource Management.  Oh, and graduation from the Navy War College at the 21 year mark came with a Masters of Arts in National Defense and Strategic Studies.  Again, this Colonel was nothing more than a typical Marine Colonel.    

Sixth, before colonels (Navy captains) in our Republic's military can, by law (Goldwater-Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act of 1986), be considered for advancement to brigadier general or rear admiral, they must have served in a joint assignment.  Each service is a little different, but generally a colonel will also not be advanced to general without command time (combat command time, preferably) at every rank at which that particular service bestows command.  In the Marine Corps, if a ground officer (aviators are a little different) hasn't commanded at the company (180 Marines), battalion (800 Marines), and regimental level (3000 Marines), he ain't getting a look at a star.

Advancing through the officer ranks is an "up or out" proposition for the most part.  If a captain fails selection to major twice, he is out -- without opportunity to stay for the coveted twenty-year "retirement."  A major must typically make lieutenant colonel to stay beyond the twenty year mark.  Promotion opportunity to major and lieutenant colonel (Navy lieutenant commander and commander) varies by service, and from year to year as personnel requirements change to meet congressional force structure authorizations, but, generally, 70 percent of captains make major and 60 percent of majors make lieutenant colonel.  This Colonel, a member of an unusually over-strength cohort, survived promotion opportunities of only 60 percent to major, 47 percent to lieutenant colonel, and roughly 35 percent to colonel.  

From a crop of hundreds of highly qualified Marine colonels at the, roughly, 26 year mark, a small handful (a dozen or so, on average) are selected for advancement to brigadier general -- low single digit promotion opportunity.  

Once an officer is advanced to the flag ranks, his responsibilities, and the expectations of his decision-making prowess grow exponentially.  

And, it is still "up or out." 

Advancement from one to more stars is a whole 'nuther ballgame.  Fail selection to major general (two stars) or rear admiral, upper half (don't get the Colonel started on the strange rear admiral ranks), and you retire.  Advancement to three and four star ranks are actually billet appointments, with no time in grade or service requirements.  For example, the current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Joe Dunford, was nominated for the rank of major general and two months later appointed to a three star billet.  The Colonel is not completely sure, but he doesn't think General Dunford ever actually wore two stars. 

By the time officers reach the three and four star ranks, as well as during those assignments, they have operated at the very highest levels of government, participating in the formulation, and execution, of plans and policies to support national strategy in all three overlapping spheres of national power -- economic, diplomatic, and military.  The Colonel dares to say that almost any three or four star officer in our Republic's military has as much education and experience in diplomacy as all but the most senior foreign service officers, and certainly far, far more than the typical political hacks who follow a candidate from state or local government to the White House.    

In conclusion, the senior officers of our Republic's military have reached the pinnacle of leadership in the most complex, mission-oriented, and internationally-engaged meritocracy in the world.  Their "discipline," a term often used more disparagingly by civilians than not, is not to be confused with the notion of blind obedience or unthinking robotic execution.  The discipline instilled in today's American military, and exemplified by its senior generals (with radically few exceptions), is the unerring compulsion to selflessly do the right thing for the right reasons.  Modern American military discipline suborns self to the organization, nation, and, ultimately, the Constitution, the sole entity in support of which American military officers pledge their honor and lives.

Wring your hands over "militarization" of our government if you wish to show your ignorance.  As for the Colonel, he'll take an American general over a Chicago community organizer, Texas oil man, or New York millionaire any day of the week and twice on Sunday!                                    

Pro Reading, Vol I, Ed 2: Pax Romana

With lots of air conditioned time on his hands this hatefully hot summer, the Colonel has reinvigorated his heretofore moribund professional reading program.  This post recaps his impressions from his latest grey-matter wrinkle-forming endeavor -- Adrian Goldsworthy's "PAX ROMANA."

The founding of Rome is shrouded in myth.  So, too, is the conduct of Roman expansion and imperialism.

What we "modern" humans believe about Rome -- republic and empire, expansion and fall -- often borders on the inane;  consisting of oversimplified classifications based on little more than a comic book depth of study.  Goldsworthy attempts the impossible -- explanation of the myriad political, economic, cultural, and military aspects of the Roman system and civilization that evolved over nearly a millennium, from a hilltop settlement on Italy's Tiber River to an Empire that stretched from Britain to Arabia, from the Caucuses to the Atlas Mountains and held sway over upwards of 70 million people (nearly a fifth of the population of the entire globe) at its zenith, in an easily read single book.  The author does this with a segmented examination of each of these factors and sub-factors, replete with well-documented deep dives into specific examples to illustrate his points.  While not an exhaustive look at the Roman Empire, Goldsworthy provides a foundational view of the era known as the "Roman Peace;" a good starting place for any serious study of the Roman Republic and Empire. 

Peace, like "love," is an abstract and oversimplified term.  Pax Romana was not particularly peaceful in its application, the definition of peace depending on at which end of the pilum and gladius one found oneself.   At the height of its power, Rome maintained a leveling presence across a score of annexed provinces formerly beset by such a high level of internecine warfare that advances in "civilization" were all but impossible.  Prior to Rome, incessant warring tribalism prevailed.  Under Roman rule, tribalism still existed, but its violence was suborned and tamped by fear of Roman application of much greater, more organized, and often indiscriminate, force.  Age-old inter-tribal grievances and hatreds still simmered, and occasionally boiled over, but the inevitable application of Roman power kept major warfare under enough control that energy normally devoted to fighting with neighbors was channeled into commerce, city-building, and scientific progress.

Goldsworthy attempts, with noteworthy results, to reconcile the disparate views of historians and commentators on the reasons for Roman expansionism and, later in the life of the Empire, reluctance to continue to expand.   

Ultimately, Roman expansionism can be traced back to the evolution of early Roman governance. Early in the Sixth Century B.C., as Rome transitioned from monarchy to republic, the rich ruling class formed the governing body for which Rome is famous -- the Senate.  Machinations for power and influence in Rome centered on the Senate.  The Senate ran Rome, and its provinces as it grew, through political appointment.  The currying of favor with the members of the Senate (from within and without) for political appointment became the fuel that fired the Senate.  Serving in the Senate, and one of the executive offices appointed by the Senate, was a path to social and financial aggrandizement.  

At the pinnacle of appointed power in the Republic was the office of consul, two of which were appointed each year and alternated as the principle consul each month.  At the conclusion of their year in office (which could not be held again for ten years) consuls were assigned duties as the Senate's representatives outside of Rome.  Those duties included defense of Rome's frontiers at the head of one or more legions (apportioned by the Senate).  Victory in battle was richly rewarded and great social status was garnered thereby.  This incentivized aggressive military adventurism as successive generations of consuls sought greater glory than the previous.  Defensive military operations to maintain limited borders and protect inter-city trade routes gave way to offensive operations to conquer territory that was exploited for the benefit and enrichment of the citizens of Rome.

Goldsworthy's conclusion, then, is that expansion was a logical extension of the political system and its underlying social drivers, family honor chief among them.  And, as the borders of Rome expanded, the included territory subdued and eventually annexed as a province (with the attendant all-important Roman citizenship that brought with it), the requirement for defense of expanded borders (as well as maintenance of provincial "peace" and order) spurred growth of the army.  A large army made more expansion possible.  

But, a large army, at the head of a portion of which a power hungry politician might challenge the constitutional order, ultimately resulted in the transition from a Senate-controlled Republic to an imperial order at the head of which one man reigned supreme.      

By the Second Century, A.D., Roman emperors began to employ an expansion-limiting calculus.  One part of the equation was fear of an internal challenge to one man's imperial power.  Another part of the equation was the economy of legionary occupation -- some conquered territories, while expansive, produced far less wealth than was required to maintain legions in the territory.  Goldsworthy notes the occupation of Britain as an example of this deficit cost of empire.  

In "Pax Romana" Goldsworthy spends considerable time examining the relationship between Roman central government and the provincial governments and local governments of "occupied" territories, and makes a great case that Roman genius for infrastructure was matched by genius for governance.  In particular, there was little Roman attempt to govern and administer at the local level of occupied territories beyond adjudication of major disputes deemed a challenge to peace and order.  Indeed, the view of heavy-handed Roman rule backed by the overwhelming might of ever-present Roman legions is largely myth.  Even at its largest, the army of Rome (both legions and provincial auxiliaries) was nowhere near large enough to provide constant presence throughout the empire, and was instead positioned primarily along the frontiers.  The vast bulk of the legions, by the Second Century A.D., were garrisoned along the Limes Germanicus (German frontier), leaving many provinces completely without the presence of a legion.  However, the belief (based on experience) among local leaders in the provinces and occupied territories was that misbehavior (open rebellion, or even unrest threatening Roman interests) could be met, eventually, by deployed force sufficient to regain control.   Thus, the threat of force, and not its actual application on a regular basis, was the backbone of the Pax Romana.  

The military might and global political dominance of the United States, particularly since the middle of the 20th Century, has drawn comparisons with Pax Romana, many going so far as to call the period Pax Americana.  As with any comparisons between different historical eras, generalities often cloud the discussion and prevent examination of details most pertinent to lessons-learned.  Arguably, the United States has maintained an empire of sorts since 1945.  The United States' navy has ensured freedom of navigation necessary for the vast majority of world commerce upon which American society has thrived and grown rich.  Treaty allies around the globe have enjoyed peace and prosperity guaranteed by the deterrence of the United States' overwhelming multi-dimensional military superiority.  American borders and territories have remained inviolable for almost three quarters of a century, for much the same reason.

The last territories occupied by the United States to be admitted into the union as states (analog to Roman provinces) were Hawaii and Alaska at the beginning of Pax Americana.  Indeed, Pax Americana has been marked by a lull in American territorial expansion that saw the size of the American empire double every 50 years from 1783 to 1945.  What accounts for this?  Arguably a similar calculus to that made by Roman emperors in the later half of the Roman Empire's run -- the feared deficit cost of expanding and maintaining an empire, and the feared dilution of personal political clout -- slowed and then halted American expansion.  

Arguing against expansion on the basis of short-term cost is the tactic of the politically small-minded and strategically short-sighted.  
The Colonel has long held the rock solid belief in his doubt-free military mind that when Rome ceased its expansion -- particularly its Second Century A.D. failure to devote the energy and resources to the conquest of the lands and peoples beyond the Limes Germanicus -- and settled into a strategic defensive posture behind fortified borders, the inevitable loss of strategic initiative to the enemy began.  Not only does occupying strategic defensive positions and adopting a strategic defensive posture surrender the strategic initiative to the enemy, but it is destructive to the strategic morale and strategic physical fitness of the nation.  Once the initiative is lost, responding to threats becomes an exercise in withdrawal and accommodation, the end result of which is national irrelevancy.  

This is not to say that "pauses" in strategic expansion, in order to consolidate gains, assimilate populations, and recapitalize the sources of strategic strength (economic infrastructure, political policy, and military forces), are not in order at carefully considered inflection points.  But, strategic pause must always have the chief aim to prepare for resumption of the strategic offensive.   

The causes of the Roman Empire's fall have employed more academicians and sold more books than nearly any other question in the history of man.  There is no one single factor that explains the collapse of the greatest empire in history, although many have advanced their own anti-expansion agendas by positing that imperial overreach was responsible.  While the administration and defense (internally, as well as externally) of Rome's empire certainly strained the limits of the transportation and communication technology of the time, Rome's genius for infrastructure (cities, roads, aqueducts, etc...) made administration of a far-flung empire possible.  

"Strategic overreach" is a concept adopted by the intellectually lazy and morally weak, to explain political failure to consolidate gains, and, more importantly, political failure to capitalize on the initiative of the strategic offense.  In the case of the United States, strategic expansion of the Republic has always been opposed by local, tactical, political machinations.  Politicians fear dilution of their power and oppose any redrawing of the map that will, in their view, change the balance of power or diminish their influence.  The question of annexation and eventual admission of territory into the Republic as states has always been argued along political lines.  Few have been the statesmen who have looked beyond the pettiness of personal political gain or loss and focused on the benefits of expansion under our Constitution for both current citizens and those who will become citizens.  

Pax Romana raised the overall standard of living and lowered the threat of violence and war for a quarter of the world's population.  Rome's collapse (precipitated in great part by its defensive response to external threats) plunged that portion of humanity into such a terrible time that we now refer to the "middle ages" (the era between Pax Romana and the Renaissance) as the dark ages.  The American republic's collapse would arguably plunge a far greater proportion of the globe into another dark age.  Pax Americana will last only so long as our Republic's leadership suborns petty personal political position to the expansion of American greatness.

It ain't looking so good at the moment...                           

                              

Professional Reading, Volume I, Edition 1

The season of heat has begun here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere.

Doesn't do any good but to accept it and adapt to it.

The Colonel's adaptation amounts to avoidance.  He still has plenty of chores and projects to knock out across his vast holdings.  He just has had to prioritize and temporize while the temps and attendant Mississippi humidity push the heat index well into the triple digits.

There was a time...,  back in the day...,  when the Colonel was a bit younger, and a lot less wise, that he relished the heat and humidity.  He waited until the sun, and its warmth, was at its zenith to go for his daily run.  The heat energized him.

Not so much, anymore.

Heat exhaustion is now the Colonel's shadow.  And, so, because the Colonel is shooting to live to be 120, he adapts and temporizes.

Early mornings are for outside chores and projects.  The rest of the day is for indoor activities.  And, as there are only so many inside chores and projects on the CRIPPLE (Colonel's Really Important Planned Projects List, Enumerated), the Colonel has decided to reinvigorate his professional reading program.  

Until a decade ago, when there was still the possibility of the Colonel participating in the Third World War, and the participatory requirement to draw on history's lessons learned, he maintained a rather robust reading program.  Over the past decade, his normal 20 to 25 books per year has dwindled to, shamefully, 2 to 3.

So, beginning this season of heat, the Colonel will draw on his albeit dwindled reservoir of self-discipline and push the page count.

He will, as the two dozen of you who regularly waste precious rod and cone time perusing posts hereon may have frighteningly  concluded, post hereon a review of each book, to include applicable lessons learned for the future of our Republic (or, in case the American Republic decides to belly up, the future Tallahatchie Republic -- to be initially headquartered here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere).

The Colonel recently concluded Peter Cozzens' relatively even-handed and noteworthily nuanced "THE EARTH IS WEEPING, The Epic Story of the Indian Wars for the American West."  The author's treatment, in a captivating and descriptive narrative, of the thirty-year war of concentration and attrition against the Native American tribes west of the Mississippi, is replete with examples of governmental inter- (and intra-) agency disconnect, strategic policy -- military operations mismatch, civilian and military leadership ineptitude, and failure to understand and appreciate enemy desires, will, and capability.  

Throughout the period in question, both sides continued to fail to grasp the enormity of the task presented them as the inexorable tide of treasure-seekers and homesteaders flooded westward.  In particular, the Plains tribes failed to cease their fierce internecine warfare (nearly until they were extirpated in all but a fraction of their former territory by the US Army, the Lakota Sioux considered the Crow and Pawnee far greater enemies than the whites) and unite to strike concentrated blows against the Americans until it was too late.  And, even when they did concentrate -- to the everlasting infamy of George Armstrong Custer -- they did so only temporarily and without a united follow-up campaign that may well have resulted in a negotiated peace that could have given the Indians a multi-generational peace on terms favorable to them.  

While there were many on both sides of the conflict who sought, and attained, deep understanding of the opposing side, they were far too often in the minority and rarely significant enough in the decision-making process.  Without understanding of the enemy, insufficient military resources (most of the small post-Civil War US Army was detailed to occupation and Reconstruction of the South), and with completely ineffective control of the American civilian population along the borders with and through (railroad and California-bound wagon trains) Indian territory, the Federal government was perpetually playing catch-up with regard to the situation in the West.   

In the end, however, this clash of cultures was won by the culture with the preponderance of four things -- manpower, technology, economic resiliency, and political unity.   The Plains tribes demonstrated, on more than one occasion, the ability to concentrate appropriate force coupled with technological adaptation (many tribes often fought with modern repeating rifles against US Army formations whose soldiers were equipped with older single-shot, albeit breech loading, weapons), but their loosely confederated and semi-nomadic culture was solely dependent on what turned out to be, considering their numbering in the tens of millions, a surprisingly fragile resource -- the buffalo.  Interestingly, the Plains Indian "horse culture" (which existed for little more than a century and not millennia, as is the popular misconception) and warrior reliance on their mounts for tactical advantage was actually an operational weakness  --  experienced Army officers learned to time their campaigns against hostile tribes for late winter when Indian pony herds were weak from lack of forage.   

The only true strategic set-back inflicted by the Plains tribes on the Americans was done so serendipitously.  Incessant attacks on the Northern Pacific rail line (and defeat of an Army detail sent to defend its construction) caused shareholder panic.  The company bankrolling the construction went bankrupt and the ensuing panic resulted in the economic depression of 1873.  The rail line construction stopped and the Lakota wrongly assumed their tactical victory had accomplished their campaign aim to stop white encroachment via the "iron horse" once and for all.  They failed to follow up and once the depression ended, track laying recommenced.    

Perhaps the greatest lesson to be drawn from the Indian wars for the West is the warfighting necessity for political unity and unity of effort.  Rare is the national leadership that goes to war without at least calculating that the initial force ratios (manpower and technology) are in their favor.  Not so rare are those that fail to ensure political unity, and fail to protect, as well as marshal for war support the preponderance of, their economies in order to ensure the most rapid victory and thereby preserve the will of the people.                

Preposterous Future

The Colonel thinks a lot about the future these days.  Anyone who is a serious student of history can't help but.  It's been said that history doesn't repeat itself..., but it rhymes really well.  The Colonel believes that one of history's greatest lessons is the inevitability of certain themes repeating themselves.

There was a time, early in his life, that the Colonel bought into the naive school of thought that mankind was "progressing" beyond the base natures by which the actions of competing civilizations had been ordered.      

But now, with the advantage of age and experience, the Colonel sees the future as certain as the past.  His crystal ball is murkier than a stock tank in a West Texas drought, but it really doesn't take any particular clarity to predict more of the same.

In an interesting, if a bit hyperbolic and stilted, book, "The Coming War with Japan," published in 1991, the authors' preface began with the following:

            "Imagine being alive in the summer of 1900. Europe was powerful, peaceful, and rich. Could you have imagined the devastation of 1920, the fall of the Kaiser, the Russian Revolution? Could anyone, then, have imagined the summer of 1940? Germany resurgent, France crushed, Britain fighting for its life. Or, in the summer of 1940, could anyone have imagined 1960? Europe divided and occupied by Americans and Soviets, the British and French empires gone, a nation called Israel arisen. In 1960, could anyone have imagined the summer of 1980? America in retreat, defeated by Vietnam, reeling before the Iranians, allied with Communist China. One would ask about the man in the summer of 1980 trying to imagine the summer of 2000, but he would already be so flabbergasted by the summer of 1990 that there would be no need to force him to strain his already stricken imagination. In 1980 anyone who predicted the collapse of the communism would have been ridiculed. Yet if there is one thing that the twentieth century ought to have taught us, it is that the commonsense approach to history is almost invariably doomed to be wrong, and that the most preposterous expectations are usually closer to the mark."
 
The Colonel would add to this train of thought that the man in 2000 could scarcely imagine the events of September 11th, 2001, and the subsequent Global War on Terror.  Nor could that man imagine, given the horrific attack on America, that war fought in a fecklessly limited and incremental fashion, and stretched over nearly an entire generation.

War is the natural condition of man.  A major war has convulsed the globe in nearly every generation dating back as far as one wishes to study.  Minor wars simmer constantly.  The Clausewitzian view of war is that it is an extension of politics.  If so, then politics is defined by conflict between competing worldviews and the desire for power and control of resources.   The causes for war have not been eliminated nor even diminished with the progress of "civilized" nations.  Even attempts to prevent war or to punish aggressors and "make right" (restore borders and sovereignty) requires the application of force with the tools of war, notwithstanding limited efficacy of diplomatic and economic sanctions.   

So, any futurist forecast for the remainder of the 21st Century must include war, and lots of it.

Thankfully, just as there is a symbiotic link between tactics and technology -- each spurring change and advancement in the other -- there is always a globally beneficial technological byproduct of war, even if some cultures or societies are destroyed by that war.  As horrific as were the costs of the two world wars in the first half of the 20th Century, the survivors (both victors and vanquished) were the beneficiaries of technological advances spurred by the tactical exigencies and casualty responses of those wars.

Now, before those of you with hands over mouths in abject horror click to more palatable reading fare, please know that the Colonel is not making a case for the morality of war.  Far from it.  War, in and of itself, is amoral.  The Colonel is merely making a case for the acceptance of war as an inescapable consequence of the nature of humanity, and positing that societies that prepare for war's inevitability are more likely to survive and thrive in the aftermath.

The Colonel's foundational premise is this:  War happens, and will continue to happen.  

Given that, what would be the best strategic course of action for our Republic over the next 50 to 100 years?  Allow the Colonel to, in the words of the above quoted book's authors, dispense with "the commonsense approach... [which is] almost invariably doomed to be wrong," and propose his own set of "most preposterous expectations [that] are usually closer to the mark."


Possible Major Wars of the 21st Century

Europe.  The fault lines over which future major wars will rupture the crust of extant societies and their allies are as numerous and germane as they ever were.  Today, Europe seems historically serene and cooperative, notwithstanding current tensions over immigration and economic bloc bureaucracies.  But age-old animosities, and desire for relative power position and resource control, simmer like volcanic hot spots over which the thin veneer of continental cooperation floats.  There were three major and several minor wars in Europe in the 80 years before the middle of the last century (and that prevalence of war in nearly every generation was not unusual in Europe's history).  Post-WWII U.S. occupation of Europe and the subsequent nuclear annihilation consequence of the NATO - Soviet Cold War (not to mention wide-scale destruction requiring multiple generations' work from which to recover) has prevented a major war in Europe.  But, the tamping lid of U.S. occupation has all but been completely removed.  Soviet expansionism has been replaced by resurgent Russian Imperialism, the most effective tactic of which at present seems to be active meddling (if not outright interference) in the electoral affairs of nations with which it sees itself in competition or wishes to draw within its orbit.

Russia, whose influence, in a perfect world, could be a force for stability and cooperation in Europe, will instead continue to foment instability to its own advantage.  This instability will manifest itself in conflict between European nations, notwithstanding the supposed stabilizing effect of the NATO alliance and the European Economic Community.  Major war in Europe within the next two generations is all but guaranteed; and, while it may not necessarily involve Russia directly, it will be as a result of Russia's actions to undermine European cooperation.

Asia - Pacific Rim.  Europe is not unique in the possession of casus belli fault lines.  China's relentless long march from colonial backwater to nascent global economic and military superpower has finally begun to suck all the oxygen out of the room, and the rest of the region is on notice.  China has many of the same ethnic and religious undercurrents that gave us the term "balkanized" with the removal of the Tito lid in Yugoslavia.  To keep 1.4 billion citizens' focus off of ethnic tension, China uses economic growth and nationalism.  Economic growth cannot be maintained in perpetuity. So, the Chinese leadership has inexorably built a world class military with which to leverage nationalism through -- you guessed it -- war.  

Within Asia exists the same sorts of ancient animosities and resource control tensions as seen in Europe.  While America's Pacific strategy has waffled and swung widely over the last half-century, the direction of China's strategic activities has not altered significantly.  The nations of the Pacific Rim have begun calculating with whom to rely in their best interests -- the U.S. or China.  American military tripwires are laid throughout the region and the possibility of an increasingly active projection of Chinese force (not to mention China's erratic client -- North Korea) coming in contact with the forces of the United States or its allies is higher than it has been since 1975.  Even the slightest miscalculation by the Chinese could lead to open conflict, from which Chinese nationalistic pride (and political leadership survival) will not allow it to pull back.  A major war in the Western Pacific Rim within the next two generations is as great a possibility as that of war in Europe.  

Africa and the Middle East.  The fault lines in North Africa and the Middle East need little explanation.  Interestingly, the region's future will be heavily influenced by the two major players mentioned above -- Russia and China.  Russia seeks renewed influence and resource control in the Middle East, and China sees sub-Saharan Africa as a critical source of rare metals and materials vital to its military modernization and nationalistically motivated space endeavors.  Both nations have been at least as active in the region as has been the United States.  The nations of the region are making the same calculations about the long-term reliability of the United States as are the nations of the Pacific Rim.

The United States' "Global War on Terror," largely centered on this region, has been tactically successful, but strategically ineffective.  First of all, the limited war has been fought against a tactic -- terror.  War against a tactic is ludicrous.  Had the war against Japan in the early 1940's been fought the same way, the United States would still be locked in a low-level tactical struggle with Japan.   Successful war is waged not against an adversary nation's tactics, but against that adversary's will to continue to employ that tactic or materially support organizations that do.  

While the Global War on Terror has served to assuage the United States' anger over 9/11, and kept terror organizations on their back feet, it has largely been a generation of lost blood and treasure without a significant decrease in the material support by nations in the region to those terror organizations.  If anything, material support from adversary nations has increased.

Until Western nations, led by the United States, carry the fight to the nations materially supporting organizations employing terror tactics, there will continue to be terror attacks throughout the West. A critical component of this fight must also include ramping up the nascent attempts at discrediting the underlying jihadist ideology.  But, the fight will not be won with the current "Long War" philosophy.  Western societies in general and American society in particular have no stomach for long limited wars.  Nor should they. 

At any rate, notwithstanding multiple American administrations' attempts to broker a substantive and comprehensive peace based on the errant goal of solving the actually narrow "Palestinian issue" (read "Arab excuse"), multiple sectarian fault lines, tribal animosities, and squabbles over borders imposed at the end of the colonial era will continue to act as casus belli for minor wars for generations to come; with potential development into major regional conflicts with Russian and/or American involvement.  

The Americas.  The Colonel intentionally left the Western Hemisphere for last, because he fervently believes that the future of the aforementioned regions has great bearing on the strategy that he believes our Republic must adopt with regard to the "American Hemisphere."  In comparison with engagement and encirclement strategies in Europe, Asia-Pacific, Africa, and the Middle East, a Western Hemisphere-centric approach to the strategic imperatives of commerce, resource control, and defensible frontiers is a far easier strategic endeavor.  

The Colonel does not propose a complete withdrawal from the other regions of the globe.  Engagement with long-time allies does not have to cease or even diminish, even if our Republic's focus shifts dramatically from the regions in which those allies exist to a truly "America First" strategy.  The Colonel's "America First" strategy is not the narrow, populist, isolationist view of the majority of the current administration's political base.  Far from it.  The Colonel's "America First" could be called  the "American Hemisphere First" strategy.

But, let's keep it simple, shall we?  

An "America First" grand national strategy would seek to strengthen the entire Western Hemisphere, drawing all the nations of the hemisphere into a tight, mutually beneficial relationship.

Look, the people of our hemisphere -- North, Central, and South America -- have far more in common with each other than with the peoples and cultures of most of the rest of the world.  Even the language barrier is far less of an issue than exists among the nations of Europe or Asia, or even among the nations in the current Russian Federation.

The Colonel's vision of a perfect world is a pan-hemispheric Republic stretching from the Hudson Bay to Tierra del Fuego with a maritime-centric military strategy designed to, a) ensure world-wide freedom of navigation for commerce, and b) hemispheric oceanic control for defense.  Land forces would be maintained and structured primarily for continental defense, recognizing the near impossibility and unnecessary expense of maintaining land forces large enough for decisive major action on the African or Eurasian continents.  Strategic strike long-range bombers, land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles, and submarine-launched ballistic missiles -- the strategic nuclear triad -- would be maintained (modernized and structured for continued efficiency) for nuclear deterrence.   

There will be major wars in the Eastern Hemisphere within the next two generations.  The United States need not be involved, unless the American Republic is willing to spend blood and treasure that will make the expenses of the wars of the 20th Century pale in comparison.  If our Republic is to make that expense to make decisive impact in those major Eastern Hemisphere wars, then we should be rewarded with world-wide empire.  If our Republic is not willing to take on world-wide empire, then we should at least ensure the security and prosperity of the Western Hemisphere.  A pan-hemispheric republic is the logical answer.     

Preposterous, you say?

Was it preposterous for Americans to cross the Alleghenies and push to the Mississippi River, doubling American territory?  Was it preposterous to purchase the Louisiana Territory, again doubling  American territory?  Was it preposterous to annex the Northwest territory and the territory north of the Rio Grande, again doubling American territory?  Was it preposterous to purchase Alaska?  Was it preposterous to add Hawaii to the Republic?

The entire American Experience is preposterous!  Greatness comes to those who seize on the preposterous idea, and act on that preposterous idea. 

Expand the Republic!