By the time the Colonel was barely into his teens, he knew his calling was to serve his nation is uniform.
For much of his young adult life (the term "adult" used in the age-defined sense, not necessarily denoting any particular maturity in the Colonel's case), he self-identified with terms such as "patriot," "warrior," even "jingoist."
For the Bama bandwagon boors who have stumbled upon this post in search of a life beyond ponderous pachyderms, hound's tooth print toilet paper, and tree-killing herbicides, the term "jingoist" does not refer to one who sings jingles.
Nope, the Colonel's favorite song -- Mr. Key's poem, "The Defence of Fort McHenry," set to the tune of a popular, if difficult to sing, British social club anthem -- ain't a very catchy tune.
In fact, the Colonel has rarely sung the National Anthem.
Hard to sing with tears in your eyes and a large lump in your throat.
Suffice it to say that you'd be hard pressed to find anyone in the land of the free who loves the ideals for which our nation stands more than the Colonel.
As many of the two dozen of you who subject yourselves to the drivel posted hereon will recall, the Colonel spent a goodly portion of his career commanding a goodly portion of the Marine Corps' recruiting apparatus.
No one believed in the high calling of the cause of filling our ranks, nor took to heart the slogans and ideals with which we challenged the youth of our nation, more than the Colonel.
The Colonel considers membership in the American veterans' community in general, and in the fellowship of the Marine Corps in particular, to be the second greatest collection of men and women to which anyone can aspire -- a Christian Church being the first, of course.
So it was with a particular sense of bewilderment and personal loss that the Colonel recently answered a young man's question about joining the military with: "Don't."
The Colonel can no longer in clear conscience recommend uniformed military service to our nation.
The leaders of our military -- civilian and uniformed -- have lost any semblance of moral authority, let alone direction, having succumbed shamefully to the siren song of political correctness.
"Atheist" chaplains?
Women in the infantry?
Persecution of professing Christians?
Open acceptance of "anything goes" sexuality?
Mistreatment -- downright neglect -- of veterans' suffering?
Failure to address -- with strong caring leadership -- the plague of suicide symptomatic of a huge moral leadership vacuum?
The Colonel could go on and on...
The Colonel used to respond positively to those who -- often flippantly -- expressed gratitude for his service.
This is how the Colonel now answers those perfunctory platitudes -- particularly from politicians:
"Don't insult my intelligence. If you appreciated my service even the least little bit, you would not so willfully trample the rights and freedoms enshrined in the Constitution for which I pledged my life and for which so many of my brothers and sisters have given theirs."
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Friday, September 06, 2013
Thinking the Unthinkable
The Colonel is thinking the unthinkable these days.
Not hard to go there; not with all of the dithering, denial, and double-speak coming from the Obama Administration.
Referring to this administration's fecklessness as "amateur hour" offends all amateurs everywhere.
Let's look at a real possibility -- the Congress of the United States, the constitutionally empowered war-declaring branch of our federal government may very well tell the President, "No, we do not approve of military action against the Syrian regime."
What then?
Does the President disregard express congressional disapproval and direct the United States' military to prosecute an act of war, anyway?
The White House, as have nearly all administrations in American history, claims that the President has the authority to act without Congressional approval. Precedent says so.
The Constitution? Not so much.
While Article II, Section 2 names the federal executive as the "Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States," the clear intent of the Constitution's framers -- found in their writing in support of the Constitution's acceptance and ratification -- was that the role of Commander in Chief in war was to be as a result of Congressional authorization of that war in the first place.
There was NEVER intent to give the President latitude to attack other sovereign nations as he saw fit, no matter how "moral" the cause.
The Constitution DOES give the President latitude -- moreover, responsibility -- to act in defense of the United States pending Congressional declaration of, and funding for, war against the enemy attacking the United States, its property, its citizens, and its critical national interests.
The current situation in Syria does not meet that test.
Most commentators the Colonel has heard pontificating on the subject seem to assume that our military, given an order contrary to the express will of Congress, will obediently salute and execute.
And, that is what has the Colonel thinking the unthinkable.
To what authority does the military of the United States owe ultimate obedience?
The Constitution, of course!
The Colonel posits that a presidential order contrary to the express will of the Congress of the United States is an unconstitutional -- an illegal -- order.
Commanders should -- must -- refuse it.
Would that cause a Constitutional crisis?
You betcha!
One brought on by none other than the executive, himself.
He would, of course, fire the refusing commander(s).
What could happen then?
Lots of "unthinkables."
Not hard to go there; not with all of the dithering, denial, and double-speak coming from the Obama Administration.
Referring to this administration's fecklessness as "amateur hour" offends all amateurs everywhere.
Let's look at a real possibility -- the Congress of the United States, the constitutionally empowered war-declaring branch of our federal government may very well tell the President, "No, we do not approve of military action against the Syrian regime."
What then?
Does the President disregard express congressional disapproval and direct the United States' military to prosecute an act of war, anyway?
The White House, as have nearly all administrations in American history, claims that the President has the authority to act without Congressional approval. Precedent says so.
The Constitution? Not so much.
While Article II, Section 2 names the federal executive as the "Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States," the clear intent of the Constitution's framers -- found in their writing in support of the Constitution's acceptance and ratification -- was that the role of Commander in Chief in war was to be as a result of Congressional authorization of that war in the first place.
There was NEVER intent to give the President latitude to attack other sovereign nations as he saw fit, no matter how "moral" the cause.
The Constitution DOES give the President latitude -- moreover, responsibility -- to act in defense of the United States pending Congressional declaration of, and funding for, war against the enemy attacking the United States, its property, its citizens, and its critical national interests.
The current situation in Syria does not meet that test.
Most commentators the Colonel has heard pontificating on the subject seem to assume that our military, given an order contrary to the express will of Congress, will obediently salute and execute.
And, that is what has the Colonel thinking the unthinkable.
To what authority does the military of the United States owe ultimate obedience?
The Constitution, of course!
The Colonel posits that a presidential order contrary to the express will of the Congress of the United States is an unconstitutional -- an illegal -- order.
Commanders should -- must -- refuse it.
Would that cause a Constitutional crisis?
You betcha!
One brought on by none other than the executive, himself.
He would, of course, fire the refusing commander(s).
What could happen then?
Lots of "unthinkables."
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Damascus Falls Again
As the Colonel pens this missive, we are minutes away from an announcement from H regarding the next step in his administration's feckless plan (the Colonel apologizes for diminishing the terms "feckless" and "plan") for influencing the "Arab World."
His projected "shot across the bow" will do little more than give ammunition and excuse to those who live and accumulate power by the promotion of hatred of the West, in general, and the United States, in particular.
Even if the coming missile strikes were somehow to shift the battlefield balance in favor of the Syrian rebels -- an amorphous accumulation of anti-western and anti-secular forces -- the resulting fall of Damascus will do no more for regional stability and Western interests than when that critical capital fell to Lawrence and his Arab legion ninety-five years ago.
Young British army officer, T. E. Lawrence, assigned as liaison with the Arab forces loosely cooperating with the British against the Turks -- allied with Germany in the War [that didn't] End all Wars -- went "native", as they say, and filled a leadership vacuum among the disparate Arab clans and tribes seeking independence from Turkish rule. Lawrence united them with promises he couldn't, and his superiors wouldn't, keep, and led them in a series of improbable victories against the Turks which served to rally the Arabs in their drive to capture the most important capital in the Arab world at the time -- Damascus.
Ever the dreamer, Lawrence thought that particular and spectacular victory would be sufficient to cause the Arabs to cease their millenia-long internecine squabbling and unite in such a way that Britain would have no choice but to grant pan-Arab independence and autonomy.
Neither the Arabs, nor the British shared his dream. The Arabs failed to unite and the British acted as they had always acted in their Imperial history to that point.
Damascus and the Arab world went from Turkish domination to British domination. The current Arab political boundaries -- and the resultant incessant turmoil -- are, for the most part, the creation of British politicians possessing not the first clue of Arab culture and history.
The fall of Damascus this Fall will have the same result -- except Iran will dominate the region this time around.
His projected "shot across the bow" will do little more than give ammunition and excuse to those who live and accumulate power by the promotion of hatred of the West, in general, and the United States, in particular.
Even if the coming missile strikes were somehow to shift the battlefield balance in favor of the Syrian rebels -- an amorphous accumulation of anti-western and anti-secular forces -- the resulting fall of Damascus will do no more for regional stability and Western interests than when that critical capital fell to Lawrence and his Arab legion ninety-five years ago.
Young British army officer, T. E. Lawrence, assigned as liaison with the Arab forces loosely cooperating with the British against the Turks -- allied with Germany in the War [that didn't] End all Wars -- went "native", as they say, and filled a leadership vacuum among the disparate Arab clans and tribes seeking independence from Turkish rule. Lawrence united them with promises he couldn't, and his superiors wouldn't, keep, and led them in a series of improbable victories against the Turks which served to rally the Arabs in their drive to capture the most important capital in the Arab world at the time -- Damascus.
Ever the dreamer, Lawrence thought that particular and spectacular victory would be sufficient to cause the Arabs to cease their millenia-long internecine squabbling and unite in such a way that Britain would have no choice but to grant pan-Arab independence and autonomy.
Neither the Arabs, nor the British shared his dream. The Arabs failed to unite and the British acted as they had always acted in their Imperial history to that point.
Damascus and the Arab world went from Turkish domination to British domination. The current Arab political boundaries -- and the resultant incessant turmoil -- are, for the most part, the creation of British politicians possessing not the first clue of Arab culture and history.
The fall of Damascus this Fall will have the same result -- except Iran will dominate the region this time around.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Jim Crow Ain't Dead
The Colonel takes this opportunity to commend the Lafayette County Board of Supervisors
for jealously guarding the reputation of Mississippi politics for rampant cronyism, self-serving pandering, and blindness to the rule of law.
As a 1978 graduate of the Ole Miss Naval ROTC program, the Colonel
spent the better part of the next three decades as an infantry officer in the
United States Marine Corps. As such he remained ready to defend the United States against its enemies. As a proud Mississippian, he was also ever ready
to rise in the defense of the reputation of his state – occasions for which the
Colonel found ample opportunity throughout his travels across the nation and around the
globe.
Upon retirement from the Marine Corps and a full score of
household moves, the Colonel had the means to make anywhere in the world his permanent home. He had seen most of the world and the corner
that appealed to him most was in Lafayette County, Mississippi. The Colonel believed, as he had so vehemently maintained
in the face of its many detractors, that the new Mississippi was no longer crippled by
those who used the crutch of racial animus to amend for their poor leadership
ability, or employed the crooked device of cronyism to line their pockets.
Imagine the Colonel's chagrin to discover that his always ready defense
of the wisdom and righteousness of the leaders of the new Mississippi was
misplaced.
Case in point is a recent public meeting of the Lafayette
County Board of Supervisors, wherein a small businessman, operating completely
within the ordinances of the County, was denied permission to construct berms
on his private property to mitigate noise from his firearms range -- the obvious
intent being to prevent his expansion of his firearms sales business to include
a much needed, safe firing range. The
stated reasons for denial of the earthmoving permit have no basis in any
current county ordinance, but are instead based on misplaced passion and
pandering politics.
Jim Crow ain’t dead; it has just replaced equal protection under the law with
free market capitalism as its target.Instead of doing their duty, as employees of the people of the county, to enforce the ordinances of the county, the Board sought to impose their will and implement restrictions not found in the current law. Instead of considering facts, the Board was swayed by mistruths, innuendo, and misrepresentations.
Despite representations to the contrary, before the board
and in sensationalist media, the range is not in a “neighborhood.” In fact, the two homes adjacent (1/4 mile distant) to the proposed range are a small fraction of the number of homes adjacent to the
County Sherriff’s range.
Despite representations to the contrary, the current noise
level from the range is actually measurably lower than that of the traffic on
Highway 7 (on which 7500 vehicles pass daily) to which the two homes are also adjacent. Addition of the berms for which permission was asked of the Board, would, in fact, further reduce firearms noise significantly, as well as provide for more than adequate safety.
Never mind the fact that there is no county noise ordinance, to begin with. The Board certainly didn’t let that fact stand in their way of standing in the way of business expansion.
Unable to defend their denial on any legal basis, the Board employed a delaying tactic -- sending the small business owner's request back to the subordinate County Planning Commission (who had already recommended approval of the project) to consider whether a six-foot high, razor-wire topped fence should be constructed around the proposed range for "safety."
Never mind the fact that the steep walls of the project's planned 20+ foot earthen berms (with appropriate safety signage) would provide far more "safety" than the County Sherrif's range (which has no fence). The Board's intent was clearly to make the project "cost-prohibitive" to the young entreprenuer.
Could it be that the Board was protecting the interest of far richer local gun shop owners whose long-term plans for shooting ranges had yet to come to fruition?
No, that would be naked cronyism and that could never happen in the new Mississippi.
In full disclosure, but in no way diminishing the point, the small
business owner in question is the Colonel's son. He
was raised to respect the property of others, to be a good neighbor, and to
deal honestly and fairly with all others. In particular, he was raised to trust and
abide by the law; that, by doing so, he could count on the law to protect his
freedom to live and earn a legal living.
The Colonel fears he may have misled him.
Doubtless many of these same Board members rant and rave about the Federal government's trampling of the Constitution and the erosion of the liberties upon which, and for which, the nation was founded.
They themselves are doing just as much.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Black Hawg Down
The Colonel refers, of course, to the pig.
Porker.
Hog.
Bacon on the hoof.
Ham hauler.
Americans have a serious love – hate relationship with
swine.
We love our barbecue, bacon, and ham. The mouth waters in want at the mention.
We hate the habits of a hog.
The nose winkles in disgust at the thought.
A hog will eat anything.
A hog will seek out the foulest mud hole in which to wallow.
A close-up whiff of a grown boar’s scent will put the
hungriest man off his feed.
Throughout the American South feral hogs (farm escapees)
crossed with Russian Boars (game fame escapees) are undergoing a frightening
population boom. Fed by large scale
agricultural practice, and blessed with an amazing fertility rate (a grown sow
can begat three litters of pigs a
year), wild hogs now rival whitetail deer in numbers in many areas.
Deer can put a serious dent in a farmer’s row crop.
Wild hogs will put him out of business.
Hogs aren’t content to graze on greenery. They root up the whole plant.
Like deer, wild hogs have become increasingly
nocturnal.
And, a hog is much smarter than a deer – attempts to control
porcine population through trapping is futile.
Enter the Colonel’s Number One Son – firearms enthusiast and
serial entrepreneur.
Number One owns a gun store (TGCOutdoors.com), specializing in what is
popularly known as “tacticool.”
He builds custom tactical rifles – equipped with cutting
edge optics (night vision and thermal imaging) and suppressors.
Ideal for night pig population control patrolling.
Serial entrepreneur that he is, once he figured out how to
ensure a relatively high success rate, he began taking paying customers on
guided hunts in fields of local farmers who were all too happy to give him free
rein to kill as many of the crop marauders as possible.
The Colonel and Number Two Son went along on one such
adventure last night.
Equipped with bike-helmet mounted PVS-14 night vision monoculars
and night vision-scoped rifles, we eased onto a half-mile wide soy bean field
and scanned the upwind far tree line.
The Colonel couldn't help but remember other nights peering intently through night vision equipment -- but this new stuff was light-years better than the gear he'd had back in his infantry days.
Soon enough, we spotted hogs emerging to forage on the foot-high bean plants. But, a deer down-wind of us blew a warning and the hogs retreated out of sight in the thick underbrush of the tree line.
The Colonel couldn't help but remember other nights peering intently through night vision equipment -- but this new stuff was light-years better than the gear he'd had back in his infantry days.
Soon enough, we spotted hogs emerging to forage on the foot-high bean plants. But, a deer down-wind of us blew a warning and the hogs retreated out of sight in the thick underbrush of the tree line.
A move further down the field put us in just the right
position to catch a small hog shuffling out to feed and the Colonel ended his
crop depredation days with a quick shot.
Number Two Son complained loudly that the Colonel hadn’t
given him a chance to shoot.
The Colonel was his usual understanding self: “Tough.”
We sat in the dark for another hour while every mosquito in
North Mississippi dined on our blood – ignoring the liberal coating of Deep
Woods Off.
We began to feel woozy from the blood loss and decided to
call it a night.
As we trooped across the field in the dark, Number Two, who
has a sense of direction rivaling a ten-year old Canada goose, made a beeline
for the corner of the field beyond which the truck was parked.
The rest of us drifted off to the right, looking at hog sign
and marveling at how much damage the hogs were doing to the beans.
Less than a hundred yards from the edge of the field, we
heard a rustle in the tree line and looked up to see in the light green light
gathered in our monoculars the unmistakable bulk of a very large hog hustling
straight at us on to the field to feed.
The Colonel dropped to one knee, flipped the night vision
monocular up and out of the way on its helmet mount, shouldered his rifle and
immediately acquired the target in the night vision scope.
Wasn’t hard. The hog
was in a hungry hurry and was quickly closing the distance between himself and
his favorite patch of bean sprouts.
The Colonel was kneeling in the hungry hurrying hog’s favorite patch of bean
sprouts.
The hungry hurrying humongous hog was rapidly filling the rifle scope’s field of view.
The Colonel squeezed the trigger and the rifle scope filled
with a thrashing hog and flashing tusks and for a second the Colonel wondered if he
were about to have a close encounter with said flashing tusks.
But the hog was down and Number One Son finished him off
with a quick follow-up.
Number Two Son complained loudly from a hundred yards to the
left, “Hey! You guys didn’t even give me
a ‘CaCaw’ to let me know there was a
hog to shoot.”
The Colonel was his usual understanding self...,
“Cacaw.”
“Cacaw.”
Thursday, June 06, 2013
D-Day Salute
June 6, 1944 was the day that the Allies entered the European continent on foot and began ground operations aimed at the destruction of Nazi Germany.
Air operations with that aim had been ongoing for at least two years, with tens of thousands of very young men engaged in an aerial war of attrition to terrorize the German people, destroy their war-making capacity, and achieve the air superiority necessary for the cross-channel invasion.
By the end of the war with the Axis powers -- Japan, Germany and Italy -- the United States lost nearly a half-million very young men. A million more returned home irreparably scarred in body or spirit.
But they were the Greatest Generation.
Men, and women, inculcated with a rare character trait -- virtue.
They went to war, not necessarily so willingly as tradition holds -- the best kept secret of the Vietnam War is that the percentage of true volunteers (not drafted) was higher than during the Second World War -- but, with a grand sense of collective duty and purpose.
And when they returned home, they went quickly and quietly back to work and built the strongest economy the world had ever seen, then or since.
Most of the men who left buddies in eternal rest on the battlefields of Europe and the Pacific, are they themselves now resting in hallowed ground across our nation. A few still stand, rising reverently to salute the flag of their nation under which they fought and under which their buddies were buried.
The Colonel has no words with enough adequacy to convey his appreciation and respect.
So, he'll just say:
Semper Fidelis
Friday, May 31, 2013
Livin' in the Country
Of course, in a couple of weeks, the Colonel will be complaining about the heat as spring gives way to full onset summer. But, for the time being, the Colonel's carcass is appreciating the winter-long-coveted caress of southern solar sympathy.
Short trips out of doors are more often sans footwear, and while the the bottoms of the Colonel's dogs are beginning to toughen up, they still haven't regained the shoe-leather insensitivity required for care-free shoeless operation.
Yesterday afternoon, as the Colonel corralled his two oldest grandsons and the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda for a leap off the dock and a soak in the pond, the Colonel was padding about on the parking pad between the big house and the Man Toy Storage and Sawdust Production Facility and stepped squarely and not-so gingerly upon a rock which, in size and shape, felt like a not-so-miniature replica of the Great Pyramid.
The Colonel leapt skyward and howled so loudly that neighbors throughout this part of the county mistook the wail for that of a tornado siren and took to their storm shelters.
You'd think they would have gotten used to the Colonel's wailing by now...
Grandson #1, the Hope of 21st Century Civilization, Dash 1 (H21CC - 1), stood to the side with head cocked and eyebrow raised watching the Colonel's pyramid-stomp hop and wail give way to a post-traumatic limp and whimper.
"What happened, Pop? Did you get bit by a snake?"
Snakebite is the current concern 'round these parts -- a neighbor suffered a copperhead bite on a bare foot recently. The neighbor is fine. The snake, not so much.
"No, it wasn't a snake! I stomped on that big sharp rock right there!"
H21CC - 1 knelt down to examine the size and weapons-grade dimensions of the rock in question. The boy is at the age where such rocks are collected for future offensive operations.
"What rock, Pop? All I see is this little pebble." The rock was clearly not pocket armory-appropriate ammo in his estimation.
"Little!?!," the Colonel exclaimed. "That boulder nearly crippled me!"
H21CC - 1 straightened and appraised his grand-progenitor with the sort of look that the Colonel has heretofore only seen on the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda's face.
"Pop, you need to toughen up. I step on rocks all the time in my bare feet."
And then, the sagacity of youth:
"That's livin' in the country."
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Faded and Tarnished
The Colonel has had eagles pinned on his uniform twice in his life.The last time toward the end of his career in the Marine Corps; the first thirty years earlier, toward the end of his time in the Boy Scouts of America.
The walls in the Colonel's office are covered in memorabilia, plaques, flags, certificates, and photos from his time in the Corps -- but none is more dear to him than the smallest and least significant looking.
On the wall behind him as he types this missive, in a tiny frame, is the certificate attesting to his achievement of Eagle rank in the Scouts.
The certificate bears the signature of the President at the time, Richard M. Nixon.
In a cutout in the matting next to the certificate is the Eagle ribbon and pendant that was pinned to the Colonel's scout uniform over forty years ago. The ribbon is a bit faded and the eagle pendant somewhat tarnished with time -- a shadow of the glorious award for which the Colonel was, and still is, as proud of accepting as any promotion or medal he received in the Corps.
And so it is with the Boy Scouts of America, today. By the Colonel's estimation, Scouting is a far cry from the organization to which he belonged in his youth.
Mind you, this is no screed on the recent decision by the Boy Scouts of America to allow boys who profess to be homosexual.
Frankly, that decision was a forgone conclusion, given the Scouts' decades-long slide in standards, and reorientation from a rustic training ground for gentlemen to an urban survival laboratory.
In the process of "modernizing," Scouting lost its bearings.
The Colonel can still proudly recite the twelve points of the Scout Law:
"A scout is:
Trustworthy,
Loyal,
Helpful,
Friendly,
Courteous,
Kind,
Obedient,
Cheerful,
Thrifty,
Brave,
Clean,
and
Reverent"
He has tried to continue to live his life by the Scout Oath:
"On my honor, I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight."
To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight."
A homosexual lifestyle is incompatible with the Scout Law and Oath. And so is a lifestyle full of heterosexual sin and other forms of dissipation.
The Colonel is no homophobe. If he is any kind of "phobe" it's a sin - a - phobe.
The Colonel fears sin, because it so easily entangles him and diverts his eyes from Jesus' teaching. The Colonel takes no pride in admitting that he has violated every single one of God's Commandments -- either in thought or deed. The Colonel ain't no saint -- except by the marvelous grace of God through Jesus.
But, the Colonel keeps trying to maintain the standards.
When the Colonel was active in Scouting, he was fortunate to have adult leaders who held him, and his peers, strictly accountable to every point of the Law and each of the standards in the Oath recited at every assembly of two or more.
Every point of the Law and every standard of the Oath meant something.
Being a Boy Scout meant something.
Unfortunately, the Colonel believes it no longer does.
But, the Colonel's opinion of the current status of Scouting didn't change with the recent decision.
The Colonel's opinion changed a long time ago, when Scouting's internal compass fell captive to the magnetic allure of the false religions of pacifism, feminism, progressivism, and political correctness.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
More Than Life, Their Country Loved
Teaching His disciples, Jesus told them this, “Greater love hath no man than this, that he
lay down his life for another.”
Monday, America observes Memorial Day – a day specifically
set aside for the sole purpose of remembering those who marched off to war
under the flag of our nation,
... and returned covered by that flag.
Memorial Day is not the day to say thank you to living veterans. Veterans Day is for that.
Memorial Day is the day we honor the memories of men and women,
who, in the uniform of our nation, laid down their lives for others.
Federal law declares that on Memorial Day, all U.S. flags are
to be flown at half mast until noon, and that at 3 P.M. all Americans should
pause for a moment of solemn remembrance.
Monday, most will be too busy celebrating a
day off to stop and remember our fallen.
So, let’s do that now.
Almighty
Father, we worship Your holy name. We
thank You for Jesus, the commander of the armies of heaven, who laid down His life
for us. We thank You for blessing our
nation with selfless men and women, who more than life their country
loved. Grant that we, who enjoy the
liberty and freedom for which they died, may live our lives in such a way as to
be worthy of their sacrifice.
In Jesus'
name we pray.
Amen.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Discipline's Harvest
Thirty-six years ago, as the Colonel (then an NROTC Midshipman) was in final physical and mental preparation for a summer of fun and sun at Marine Corps Officer Candidate School in Quantico, Virginia, a member of the little country church to which he and his new bride -- the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda -- belonged, approached the Colonel...
"You're headed for OCS in a few weeks, aren't you?" T. K. Moffett was a graduate of the United States Military Academy who had served his post-graduation obligation in the Army and was now back in his native Mississippi attending Law School at Ole Miss.
"Yes, sir!" The Colonel was raring to go.
"Got any scripture to meditate on each day?"
"Uh..., no, sir."
"Try Hebrews 12:11."
"Yes, sir."
The Colonel was (is) a scatter-brained knucklehead and he promptly forgot the advice.
He did carry the pocket New Testament that had belonged to his Methodist preacher great-grandfather (and namesake) Thomas Edwin Gregory along with him to OCS and during a rare free minute one evening during the first week or so of the ordeal he thumbed it open looking for some comfort and inspiration.
The Word fell open to the 12th chapter of Paul's letter to the Hebrews and the Colonel's eye caught the word "discipline." He began to read...
"1. Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
2. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
3. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
4. In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.
5. And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons: 'My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
6. because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.'
7. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?
8. If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons.
9. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live!
10. Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in His holiness."
And then, there it was, the verse that had been recommended:
"11. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. "
The Colonel quickly committed the verse to memory, making room for it in a wrinkle of brain-matter not yet crowded with the Marine Corps "knowledge" his drill instructors were requiring him to memorize.
Throughout the remainder of his career in the Corps, the Colonel referred often to Hebrews 12:11. Early on, the Colonel leaned on the promise of "righteousness and peace" as he endured hardship and the discipline of others. Later in his career, he sagely passed on the verse to subordinates.
That was good, as far as it went. But, the Colonel was misappropriating God's Word for a secular purpose.
Recently, the Colonel has been participating in a study of Hebrews, chapters 11 and 12, with several other men in his church. Chapter 11, with Paul's recounting of the Heroes of Faith, provides examples of men and women of God who exercised faith in God's promises and provision in times of hardship and want.
Interesting and inspiring, and all, but the Colonel was really looking forward to Chapter 12 -- the "discipline" chapter.
The Colonel had a lot of experience with "discipline."
But then, as he read Hebrews 12:11 in context with the rest of the chapter, and Chapter 12 in context with Chapter 11, a dim light of a new understanding began to glimmer in the gloom of the Colonel's cavernous cranium.
The Colonel's attention was drawn to Paul's exhortation in verses 3 through 7. In particular, verses 3 and 7.
"3. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart... 7. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?"
The example of Jesus' suffering is what must be considered as one "endures hardship."
And, our hardships here on earth are God's way of disciplining us.
Just as the Greek language, from which our English language versions of New Testament scripture are translated, has different meanings (agape, eros, philios) of the English word "love," so it has several different meanings that are all translated "discipline."
It's not just God's "punishment" for sin.
It's also God's "training" for greater and harder tasks.
And, it's "correction" aimed at bringing us into closer fellowship with Him. (Verse 10: "...God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in His holiness." )
So, when we are in the midst of a particular trial, suffering some hardship, perhaps we should not ask, "Why me, Lord?"
Perhaps we should ask God, "Where have I failed to measure up to your expectations?"
Or, "Show me my sin."
When, early in his time in the Corps, the Colonel learned to apply the discipline of "immediate and willing obedience to commands and orders," he displayed a form "righteousness" in the eyes of his trainers and seniors and harvested the "peace" of their approval.
To paraphrase the Apostle Paul in Hebrews 12: 9, how much more should the Colonel submit to the Father of his spirit and live!
"You're headed for OCS in a few weeks, aren't you?" T. K. Moffett was a graduate of the United States Military Academy who had served his post-graduation obligation in the Army and was now back in his native Mississippi attending Law School at Ole Miss.
"Yes, sir!" The Colonel was raring to go.
"Got any scripture to meditate on each day?"
"Uh..., no, sir."
"Try Hebrews 12:11."
"Yes, sir."
The Colonel was (is) a scatter-brained knucklehead and he promptly forgot the advice.
He did carry the pocket New Testament that had belonged to his Methodist preacher great-grandfather (and namesake) Thomas Edwin Gregory along with him to OCS and during a rare free minute one evening during the first week or so of the ordeal he thumbed it open looking for some comfort and inspiration.
The Word fell open to the 12th chapter of Paul's letter to the Hebrews and the Colonel's eye caught the word "discipline." He began to read...
"1. Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
2. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
3. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
4. In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.
5. And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons: 'My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
6. because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.'
7. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?
8. If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons.
9. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live!
10. Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in His holiness."
And then, there it was, the verse that had been recommended:
"11. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. "
The Colonel quickly committed the verse to memory, making room for it in a wrinkle of brain-matter not yet crowded with the Marine Corps "knowledge" his drill instructors were requiring him to memorize.
Throughout the remainder of his career in the Corps, the Colonel referred often to Hebrews 12:11. Early on, the Colonel leaned on the promise of "righteousness and peace" as he endured hardship and the discipline of others. Later in his career, he sagely passed on the verse to subordinates.
That was good, as far as it went. But, the Colonel was misappropriating God's Word for a secular purpose.
Recently, the Colonel has been participating in a study of Hebrews, chapters 11 and 12, with several other men in his church. Chapter 11, with Paul's recounting of the Heroes of Faith, provides examples of men and women of God who exercised faith in God's promises and provision in times of hardship and want.
Interesting and inspiring, and all, but the Colonel was really looking forward to Chapter 12 -- the "discipline" chapter.
The Colonel had a lot of experience with "discipline."
But then, as he read Hebrews 12:11 in context with the rest of the chapter, and Chapter 12 in context with Chapter 11, a dim light of a new understanding began to glimmer in the gloom of the Colonel's cavernous cranium.
The Colonel's attention was drawn to Paul's exhortation in verses 3 through 7. In particular, verses 3 and 7.
"3. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart... 7. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?"
The example of Jesus' suffering is what must be considered as one "endures hardship."
And, our hardships here on earth are God's way of disciplining us.
Just as the Greek language, from which our English language versions of New Testament scripture are translated, has different meanings (agape, eros, philios) of the English word "love," so it has several different meanings that are all translated "discipline."
It's not just God's "punishment" for sin.
It's also God's "training" for greater and harder tasks.
And, it's "correction" aimed at bringing us into closer fellowship with Him. (Verse 10: "...God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in His holiness." )
So, when we are in the midst of a particular trial, suffering some hardship, perhaps we should not ask, "Why me, Lord?"
Perhaps we should ask God, "Where have I failed to measure up to your expectations?"
Or, "Show me my sin."
When, early in his time in the Corps, the Colonel learned to apply the discipline of "immediate and willing obedience to commands and orders," he displayed a form "righteousness" in the eyes of his trainers and seniors and harvested the "peace" of their approval.
To paraphrase the Apostle Paul in Hebrews 12: 9, how much more should the Colonel submit to the Father of his spirit and live!
Friday, April 19, 2013
Joshua Bradley Gregory, H21CC - 3
The Colonel is proud to announce the birth of his third grandson -- Joshua Bradley Gregory -- aka: the Hope of 21st Century Civilization, Dash 3 (H21CC - 3).
The latest manchild in the Gregory lineage began his air-breathing ride 'round Ol' Sol shortly after noon yesterday, 1815Z 04182013.
H21CC - 3 weighed in at 8 pounds, 3 ounces; 20 and 1/2 inches.
The Colonel's daughter-in-law, she of the high and exalted position of Provider of Grandsons, executed her duties in an exemplary manner with which the Colonel takes great pride and relief.
Dozens of family and friends are now taking turns cradling and cooing at the young man.
They had better get their fill in quickly.
The Colonel has announced loudly and repeatedly, lately -- to any one who would listen and to many who would prefer not to listen -- that all such cradling and cooing will soon come only at the Colonel's pleasure.
For the Bama and LSU fans, who have felt a tremor of dread foretelling the birth of yet another future Ole Miss Rebel who will one day carry the Gregory name into gridiron battle, and who have come fearfully and reverently searching for him, the Colonel would have you understand that what he means by the above is that NO ONE except the Colonel gets to hold H21CC - 3 if the Colonel is in the room -- unless the Colonel decides otherwise.
The Colonel further decrees and announces that the Tallahatchie Free State will hold welcoming ceremonies this weekend, replete with manifold gunfire from select semi-automatic, high-capacity magazine-fed firearms from the Colonel's vast Constitutionally-protected collection.
The latest manchild in the Gregory lineage began his air-breathing ride 'round Ol' Sol shortly after noon yesterday, 1815Z 04182013.
H21CC - 3 weighed in at 8 pounds, 3 ounces; 20 and 1/2 inches.
The Colonel's daughter-in-law, she of the high and exalted position of Provider of Grandsons, executed her duties in an exemplary manner with which the Colonel takes great pride and relief.
Dozens of family and friends are now taking turns cradling and cooing at the young man.
They had better get their fill in quickly.
The Colonel has announced loudly and repeatedly, lately -- to any one who would listen and to many who would prefer not to listen -- that all such cradling and cooing will soon come only at the Colonel's pleasure.
For the Bama and LSU fans, who have felt a tremor of dread foretelling the birth of yet another future Ole Miss Rebel who will one day carry the Gregory name into gridiron battle, and who have come fearfully and reverently searching for him, the Colonel would have you understand that what he means by the above is that NO ONE except the Colonel gets to hold H21CC - 3 if the Colonel is in the room -- unless the Colonel decides otherwise.
The Colonel further decrees and announces that the Tallahatchie Free State will hold welcoming ceremonies this weekend, replete with manifold gunfire from select semi-automatic, high-capacity magazine-fed firearms from the Colonel's vast Constitutionally-protected collection.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Greatest Warrior
The Colonel has embarked on myriad journeys over the course of his ride 'round ol' Sol.
Many took him by routes carefully planned to destinations fully expected.
Some took him physically to new climes and places.
Other journeys required the Colonel to climb new mental heights.
The latter were always the most challenging journeys, given the Colonel's dearth of usable grey matter.
The Colonel's latest journey -- one of the heart -- may be the most difficult yet.
When one takes a spiritual road trip, the heart is where the rubber meets the road; and the Colonel's heart is dry-rotted, deflated, and inelastic.
It's going to take some supernatural strength to stretch the Colonel's heart back into large enough shape to provide room for more than just the Colonel's concerns.
It's also going to take a fierce warrior to drive out the demons of destructive desire filling every nook and cranny.
Luckily for him, the Colonel serves a Savior God who has authority over EVERYTHING, with the infinite power of creation at His command.
For over a year, now, the Colonel has been praying intentionally and specifically for spiritual revival in his church and nation. As his prayers have become more and more fervent, the Colonel's own sins and shortcomings have become more and more manifest.
It has become painfully clear, and please don't take this as a lack of humility, that any revival must begin in the Colonel's heart first. The Colonel is now convinced beyond a reverse-slope defense of doubt in his military mind that the spiritual revival of his church and nation is entirely dependent on the condition of the Colonel's heart.
Not the condition of your heart.
Not the condition of any political leader's heart.
Not the condition of any one's heart, but the Colonel's.
Further, the Colonel has been convicted of late that his spiritual revival (and, subsequently, yours) will not happen until he sees God for who He really is.
The Colonel has always had a healthy respect for Jehovah God, and a personal relationship with Jehovah God through Jesus God (Jesus is the Christ -- the Messiah -- but Christ is not Jesus' last name). But lately, the Colonel is beginning to see Jesus God in a whole new light.
And, this newly understood Jesus ain't your Grandmother's Jesus.
Jesus is first and foremost, a warrior.
Jesus is the "man" who appears to Joshua prior to the Battle of Jericho (Joshua, Chapter 5).
13 Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, “Are you for us or for our enemies?”
14 “Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come.” Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, “What message does my Lord have for his servant?”
15 The commander of the Lord’s army replied, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did so.
How do we know this is Jesus?
Well, He identifies himself as "commander of the army of the Lord." That's Jesus. John tells us it's so in Revelations 19: 14.
11 I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice He judges and wages war.
12 His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on Him that no one knows but He Himself.
13 He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and His name is the Word of God.
14 The armies of heaven were following Him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean.
15 Coming out of His mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. [The Psalmist prophecies (Psalms 2:9)] “He will rule them with an iron scepter.” He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty.
16 On His robe and on His thigh He has this name written: King of kings and Lord of lords.
How else can we know that this is Jesus and not just some angel appearing to Joshua?
Look back at Joshua 5: 14. Joshua falls on his face in reverence. Any other time an angel has appeared to men, the angel has refused to accept worship.
Not this time.
In fact, the "man" appearing before Joshua uses language with which Jehovah God addressed Moses from the burning bush:
"Remove your sandals. You are standing on holy ground."
Commander of the army of the Lord.
Accepting worship.
That's Jesus.
Jesus, God's only Son, the commander of the army of the Lord, humbled himself to be the once and for all sacrificial lamb, whose blood covers the sin of the world.
Now get this. Jesus was, and is, no pacifist. He was, and is, the greatest Warrior. He humbled himself -- from commander of the army of the Lord...
... to crucified Christ.
No one took His life.
He gave it.
Then, he whipped death in mortal combat.
Don't know about you, but the Colonel is looking forward to his ringside seat at Armageddon. Hope to see you there.
On the Colonel's side of the ring, of course.
Many took him by routes carefully planned to destinations fully expected.
Some took him physically to new climes and places.
Other journeys required the Colonel to climb new mental heights.
The latter were always the most challenging journeys, given the Colonel's dearth of usable grey matter.
The Colonel's latest journey -- one of the heart -- may be the most difficult yet.
When one takes a spiritual road trip, the heart is where the rubber meets the road; and the Colonel's heart is dry-rotted, deflated, and inelastic.
It's going to take some supernatural strength to stretch the Colonel's heart back into large enough shape to provide room for more than just the Colonel's concerns.
It's also going to take a fierce warrior to drive out the demons of destructive desire filling every nook and cranny.
Luckily for him, the Colonel serves a Savior God who has authority over EVERYTHING, with the infinite power of creation at His command.
For over a year, now, the Colonel has been praying intentionally and specifically for spiritual revival in his church and nation. As his prayers have become more and more fervent, the Colonel's own sins and shortcomings have become more and more manifest.
It has become painfully clear, and please don't take this as a lack of humility, that any revival must begin in the Colonel's heart first. The Colonel is now convinced beyond a reverse-slope defense of doubt in his military mind that the spiritual revival of his church and nation is entirely dependent on the condition of the Colonel's heart.
Not the condition of your heart.
Not the condition of any political leader's heart.
Not the condition of any one's heart, but the Colonel's.
Further, the Colonel has been convicted of late that his spiritual revival (and, subsequently, yours) will not happen until he sees God for who He really is.
The Colonel has always had a healthy respect for Jehovah God, and a personal relationship with Jehovah God through Jesus God (Jesus is the Christ -- the Messiah -- but Christ is not Jesus' last name). But lately, the Colonel is beginning to see Jesus God in a whole new light.
And, this newly understood Jesus ain't your Grandmother's Jesus.
Jesus is first and foremost, a warrior.
Jesus is the "man" who appears to Joshua prior to the Battle of Jericho (Joshua, Chapter 5).
13 Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, “Are you for us or for our enemies?”
14 “Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come.” Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, “What message does my Lord have for his servant?”
15 The commander of the Lord’s army replied, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did so.
How do we know this is Jesus?
Well, He identifies himself as "commander of the army of the Lord." That's Jesus. John tells us it's so in Revelations 19: 14.
11 I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice He judges and wages war.
12 His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on Him that no one knows but He Himself.
13 He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and His name is the Word of God.
14 The armies of heaven were following Him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean.
15 Coming out of His mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. [The Psalmist prophecies (Psalms 2:9)] “He will rule them with an iron scepter.” He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty.
16 On His robe and on His thigh He has this name written: King of kings and Lord of lords.
How else can we know that this is Jesus and not just some angel appearing to Joshua?
Look back at Joshua 5: 14. Joshua falls on his face in reverence. Any other time an angel has appeared to men, the angel has refused to accept worship.
Not this time.
In fact, the "man" appearing before Joshua uses language with which Jehovah God addressed Moses from the burning bush:
"Remove your sandals. You are standing on holy ground."
Commander of the army of the Lord.
Accepting worship.
That's Jesus.
Jesus, God's only Son, the commander of the army of the Lord, humbled himself to be the once and for all sacrificial lamb, whose blood covers the sin of the world.
Now get this. Jesus was, and is, no pacifist. He was, and is, the greatest Warrior. He humbled himself -- from commander of the army of the Lord...
... to crucified Christ.
No one took His life.
He gave it.
Then, he whipped death in mortal combat.
Don't know about you, but the Colonel is looking forward to his ringside seat at Armageddon. Hope to see you there.
On the Colonel's side of the ring, of course.
Wednesday, April 03, 2013
Raising the Next Greatest Generation
Here in a couple of weeks the Colonel will welcome another air-breathing resident to the Tallahatchie Free State.
The Hope of 21st Century Civilization, Dash 3 (H21CC - 3) -- the Colonel's third grandson -- has been present and accounted for in a gestative state for nearly three quarters of a trip 'round Ol' Sol and all the legal residents and citizens (one not to be confused with the other, owing to strict citizenship requirements) of the representation-restricted republic here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere (established with tongue firmly planted in cheek and hands tightly gripping any one of a large assortment of firearms) are anxiously awaiting his birth.
No one more than the Colonel.
Grandchildren, grandsons in particular, represent many things to many people.
To some, a grandchild represents an opportunity to exact revenge through spoilage on the intervening generation.
To others, a grandchild represents an opportunity to correct mistakes made in the parenting of the fore-mentioned intervening generation.
Yet to others, a grandchild represents an opportunity for proud comparison with the grandchildren of peers and siblings.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to do all of the above... and more.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to build another in the long line of family patriots.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to educate and produce one of the most rare humans on the planet -- one who knows, appreciates, and understands history.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to train and produce another increasingly rare human -- a gentleman who places the life and security of women and children above even his own dignity; knowing that no manly dignity is attainable otherwise.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to pass on the increasingly rare belief that there are indeed things worth fighting for; and that following Jesus does not mean forsaking the responsibility to fight -- with weapons as well as words.
Find that last clause troubling?
You may find it so because you have been mistakenly led to believe that Jesus preached and practiced "non-violence."
News flash -- Jesus was Almighty God in the flesh; not a pre-incarnate of Gandhi. Today, Jesus is Almighty God. Tomorrow, Jesus will be Almighty God's war-bringing judgement for the nations.
The Colonel invites any self-professing Christian who believes otherwise to read Revelations 19: 11 -- 16.
Raise your grandsons to be politically correct, "tolerant" followers, if you wish.
The Colonel's grandsons will be prepared to fight in the company of a principled few for the protection of the many whose upbringing without virtue hamstrings their ability to even defend themselves, let alone others.
The Hope of 21st Century Civilization, Dash 3 (H21CC - 3) -- the Colonel's third grandson -- has been present and accounted for in a gestative state for nearly three quarters of a trip 'round Ol' Sol and all the legal residents and citizens (one not to be confused with the other, owing to strict citizenship requirements) of the representation-restricted republic here at the shallow northern end of deep southern nowhere (established with tongue firmly planted in cheek and hands tightly gripping any one of a large assortment of firearms) are anxiously awaiting his birth.
No one more than the Colonel.
Grandchildren, grandsons in particular, represent many things to many people.
To some, a grandchild represents an opportunity to exact revenge through spoilage on the intervening generation.
To others, a grandchild represents an opportunity to correct mistakes made in the parenting of the fore-mentioned intervening generation.
Yet to others, a grandchild represents an opportunity for proud comparison with the grandchildren of peers and siblings.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to do all of the above... and more.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to build another in the long line of family patriots.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to educate and produce one of the most rare humans on the planet -- one who knows, appreciates, and understands history.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to train and produce another increasingly rare human -- a gentleman who places the life and security of women and children above even his own dignity; knowing that no manly dignity is attainable otherwise.
To the Colonel, a grandson is an opportunity to pass on the increasingly rare belief that there are indeed things worth fighting for; and that following Jesus does not mean forsaking the responsibility to fight -- with weapons as well as words.
Find that last clause troubling?
You may find it so because you have been mistakenly led to believe that Jesus preached and practiced "non-violence."
News flash -- Jesus was Almighty God in the flesh; not a pre-incarnate of Gandhi. Today, Jesus is Almighty God. Tomorrow, Jesus will be Almighty God's war-bringing judgement for the nations.
The Colonel invites any self-professing Christian who believes otherwise to read Revelations 19: 11 -- 16.
Raise your grandsons to be politically correct, "tolerant" followers, if you wish.
The Colonel's grandsons will be prepared to fight in the company of a principled few for the protection of the many whose upbringing without virtue hamstrings their ability to even defend themselves, let alone others.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Lt. Col. Kevin M. Clifford, Marine
The 31st MAU Lieutants' Protective Association; November 10, 1982; Aboard USS Bellau Wood, somewhere in the Western Pacific. From left: 1stLt Powers, 1stLt Clifford, 1stLt Gregory, WO-2 Marzean, 1stLt Bartow, 1stLt Sullivan.
The Colonel has a heavy heart and a smile on his face as he writes this.
Earlier this week, an old Marine buddy from his first few years in the Corps was brought to the Colonel's mind by the loose collection of cognitive cells in his brain-housing group dedicated to nostalgia.
Kevin Clifford had, at one point, been as close to the Colonel as any brother. To the Colonel's discredit, he had allowed the miles and years of separation since to result in a break in contact.
There had been sporadic reconnections over the years but no contact in at least ten.
The Colonel tried an internet search for his old friend a couple of days ago and found his obituary.
The terse announcement indicated that Kevin had died of natural causes late last month.
The news shamed the Colonel.
A friend like Kevin -- a Marine Brother like Kevin -- deserved the Colonel's presence at his funeral.
Kevin and the Colonel had been in a company of 250 brand new second lieutenants who had been prepared for service as leaders of Marines at The Basic School in Quantico, Virginia, during the sweltering spring and summer of 1978. The Colonel doesn't think they even spoke during those six months -- different 50-man platoons, and different career choices. The Colonel was headed for the infantry; Kevin became a ground supply officer.
In January of 1982, the Colonel (then a first lieutenant) was assigned as the Training Officer on the staff of the 31st Marine Amphibious Unit (MAU), after three years of leading Marines in an infantry battalion at Camp Lejeune. A couple of months later, then First Lieutenant, Kevin Clifford, joined the staff.
At first handshake, Kevin and the Colonel seemed to have very little in common. Kevin was from Chicago, educated by Jesuits at Quincy College, and, in the discriminating world of Marine infantrymen, NOT infantry -- worse a supply officer.
Supply officers are a subset of the larger collection of a group known as logisticians -- the bane of infantry officers' existence.
Logisticians tell infantry officers "no." Logisticians poke gaping holes in the best laid plans of infantry operators. Logisticians consider themselves professionals in the practice of the art and science of war -- infantry tacticians are amateurs.
Infantry officers consider logisticians to be out-of-touch, rear echelon softies, who spend their days kicking boxes and counting beans.
It didn't take long, however, for Kevin's quick wit, professionalism, competence, and Colonel-rivaling initiative, to break down the Colonel's stone walls of bias and disdain for all things not infantry.
As they were the two most junior officers on the staff, Kevin and the Colonel shared a tiny stateroom in the behemoth amphibious ship on which the MAU was embarked. As the amphibious squadron sailed hither and yon across the Western Pacific and Indian Ocean carrying two thousand Marines from exercise to exercise, Kevin and Colonel made it each of their missions to educate the other on the error of his ways.
One of the best educations the Colonel ever got in his career.
In February of 1983, the Colonel was reassigned to the staff of The Basic School. A scant four years after graduating, but with two "fleet tours" under his belt, the Colonel (selected for, but not yet promoted to captain) was now teaching lieutenants. A couple of months later, Kevin Clifford walked into the office space the Colonel shared with several other instructors.
The Colonel will never forget Kevin's greeting,
"Hey, remember me? We used to be friends."
Mind you, only a few months had elapsed since the last time they had seen each other. The "We used to be friends" line was reprised many times over the next ten or fifteen years.
In the prodigious amounts of spare time available to Marines embarked on amphibious shipping sailing hither and yon on the high seas, Kevin and the Colonel learned much about each other's upbringing, hobbies, faith, and plans for the future. The Colonel introduced Kevin to the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda via the cassette tapes sent back and forth in those days before near-instantaneous e-mail and inter-continental cell phones. The Colonel thinks even now that Kevin looked forward to mail call and the next tape from Miss Brenda as much as the Colonel did.
The Colonel opined frequently that Kevin's never having wet a hook or forayed afield for furred and feathered game was a serious deficiency in his claim to manhood. Kevin opined frequently that the Colonel's never having learned to play golf left much to be desired in the Colonel's manhood department.
At Quantico, Kevin and the Colonel went in together on the purchase of a small jon boat suitable for navigating the local lakes and estuaries off the Potomac.
Kevin took to bass fishing and duck hunting like a natural.
The Colonel and golf -- not so much.
Kevin and the Colonel often talked about a business plan for their retirement -- buying a bunch of land and opening a hunting/fishing lodge catering to high-dollar clients wanting to "get away" as much as wanting to hunt and fish. The Colonel would do the guiding and Kevin's quick wit and world-class sense of humor would provide the after-field entertainment.
The Colonel still thinks it would have been successful. Kevin would have made it so.
The last contact the Colonel had with Kevin was nearly ten years ago -- a couple of one-line e-mails over the Marine Corps' intra-net. Shortly thereafter, they both retired from active duty.
Kevin's obituary mentioned he was an avid golfer.
The Colonel wonders if Kevin, living in St. Petersburg, Florida, ever went fishing, again.
The Colonel isn't looking forward to the next twenty years -- there are going to be way too many weeks like this one.
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