The Class Room

Yesterday I sat in class and watched my hand start to shake… it has been almost a year since the last time I displayed any visible signs...

Had Dr. Hanle known that I might have issues with the class, he probably would have warned me of the content. Yet as strange as it was, I listened to the start of the class discussion and I could see where we were going, yet it was still the same as a surprise on my system when the nature of killing was being discussed in a room of people that had never done it.

“Men like to kill, violence is gratifying and empowering, murderers intoxicated by their deeds…”

Slides go by on the wall, a PowerPoint gallery of children and terrorists. The depiction of change that would bring a pee-wee soccer kid into the ranks of suicide bombers. Others in the class raise their hands and through out comments that I do not hear. The discussion is not wrong, it is merely academic, and the Doctors points are sound psychology. All I can do is hide my hand under my desk so that others wont notice, or more accurately so that I don’t have to notice. I do not have issues with what I have done. I have put to rest any of my concerns and regrets about situations that have occurred in my life. And the class moves on.

“As men draw… near it becomes extremely difficult to deny their humanity. Looking into a man’s face, seeing his eyes and his fear, eliminate denial. At this range the interpersonal nature of the killing has shifted. Instead of shooting at a uniform and killing a generalized enemy, now the killer must shoot at a person and kill a specific individual. Most simply cannot or will not do it.”

The visions and the memories come back to me. Oh the irony of the last sentence on this slide. The look of disgust on a Marine officers face when she hears the statistics of soldiers willing to fire their weapons at an enemy. Then the failure to understand the very nature of the training that has managed to raise those statistics from WWII levels of less than half to today at near 90%. The Air Force logisticians scoffing comments when he asks why wont they kill an enemy that they know is trying to kill you. I have never wanted to raise my voice more in my life and ask, had they ever looked into the eyes of a dying man… if the answer is no then sit down.

“With very few exceptions, everyone associated with killing in combat reaps a bitter harvest of guilt.”

Now this slide brings many more questions than I would have thought possible. My hand is shaking in the perfect understanding of what this slide means, and others are questioning the validity of the very statement. Anger rises to the surface and the only noticeable sign of my displeasure is that my hand has stopped shaking completely. Anger to calm the nerves, followed by some notes hastily scribbled on the handouts. Notes about my reaction to the statements on each slide, within minutes blacked out with marker, for fear that some other might read them and judge me.

I guess it is the judgment of others that keeps us quiet. Or is it the judgment that we have already passed on ourselves. You know that the actions that you have done in your life are wrong. And that their acceptability is based on circumstances alone. Years of second-guessing and reworking an incident until you can put it to rest. The real fear is that someone else might have a different assessment than the one you have chosen to live with.

Without measurement (January 2005)

I thought that I was tough. I knew that I was strong. There was nothing that could stop me, yet now I sit here in full kit with loaded weapon writing these words knowing that at any moment tears will come to my eyes, if only for a second, but I know that they are there. Every day passes I wait for the point in the day that someone will let me know that another friend, comrade in arms, brother will have died. I will see the death in my mind a thousand times before it becomes my death, then and only then do I become weak. So, the strength of the individual is a perpetual test of courage and resiliency that has no measurement. I do not know how this reaction is reflected to my peers and brothers. They say that I have changed the least. Well I can tell them that I have changed more than they will ever know, yet that can only mean that they too are experiencing the pain that floats through the air waiting for you to breath it in, hell some choke on it. We have sent people home now for suicide attempts, is that the loosing side, are those the weak ones. Where do I fall on this scale that cannot be measured. I read a story today about my hero, not Patton nor Eisenhower, rather Jimmy Buffet and his adventures. There is a man in pure paradise I would like to learn that it is not true and that it is only a myth because I have missed the boat. I am twenty-four and I have yet to taste the true love of another held in my arms, yet I have, only to watch him die from loss of blood. It is true, there are great tests for all men but being great is not something that is limited to a few. I have found now that plenty are great, plenty are strong, plenty are heroes, but it is the moment and the circumstances that will give them their greatness. I am a rich man, a hero, a leader, and great warrior, yet at the same time you must say that I am dead. For every time that I take myself outside the wire I am killing another part of myself. I am living on borrowed time. Roll the dice and find out today weather it is you or your friend. Well if the wheel was fixed I think I would still take the chance, if you are treading on thin ice I know that I have danced.

Letter to the Legislature

To the Honorable Senators and Congressmen of the United States of America,

Our founding fathers struggle in the misbegotten event that has transform the world is now on the precipice that will either enter in the American slow decline and fall from preeminence; or the rise, not of the last super power, but, of the rightful leader of the free world. Any status quo will bind us to the first no different that standing on Hadrian’s Wall, we will have failed, the price of our power measured and filled.

Unfortunately for us, our forefathers in all of their wisdom never wished or dreamt of a world where the United States would be hailed as the “great savior,” nor as the “great Satan.” Let alone the title of the executive becoming “the leader of the free world.” Never would the possibility of competing with France or England as a hegemony, let alone dominating over Europe in the world community have crossed their minds.

Well for 50 years we have grasped these titles as they have been handed to us. The lessons of both Great Wars constantly echoing in our psyche, proving the fallacy of isolationism, have ensured our involvement in the world. So freely, and with such hope, we joined the world; in no small fashion we led it. We reshaped the world, rebuilt the European landscape and added one hundred more democracies to the stage. We altered the world with a healthy mix of altruistic interest based needs and a general benevolent good will. Our intentions grand, the desire to share our inalienable rights that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness were universal.

As our great enemy crumbled into mediocrity, plagued by every diseases of a crippled empire, transforming into a democracy. We have seemed to have a relapse in thought. The peace dividend has become the sale of our very soul. And we have shirked away from our worldly responsibilities under some false pretense that American interests can be affected only at home and that the world has a different set of unalienable rights, this is a fare cry from the Cold War slogan of democracy for everyone.

Why would I give this simplified narrative of American influence and responsibility? Well because I see the door we are crossing through, I see the interconnected globalized world, I see offshoring and energy issues, I see Africa sucking in its last breath, and the Middle East floundering and incapable of stability and market, I see the quiet rise of china buying real-estate from the Caribbean to the central African states. I see the painful struggle of Russia to regain a foothold of influence, I see the need for a great American leader to once again push the world forward.

Leadership is not pandering or committee it is the forceful will over the begrudging complaints of the led. It is both inspiring and insightful, but at the same time acts without hesitation and carries people forward with a stick if need be.

Ask any high school football coach what he does when the player don’t want to play because it is tough or wet and cold. America needs to stand up and tell congress what they want from their leadership. Then elect the man or woman best capable of carrying it out, then shut up. I am not talking strategy or operations, and definitely not tactics… but grand strategy. Decide how much influence we want to have in the world, and then allow the experts to execute. The American people should have no say in staying or leaving Iraq, they should have all the say in the world over whether they would like a president that will lead the international community or let it go, as long as they know the cost of both. Either lead the world forward into globalization and the future, forever securing our interests abroad and at home or let slip the control of destiny and enjoy the slow acquiescence of our preeminence and let go of whatever control we may have of our interests abroad and focus on the home front, dooming us to decline. Either way we must allow our leaders to lead. The first choice will force the future leaders of America to fundamentally change the way our legislative, executive and judicial branches interact with each other. Or we will just maintain the status quo.

Allow our leaders to do their job… now show me a leader. Show me a man willing to take the steps necessary to achieve a future that is better than today. Now is the time and opportunity for the next George C. Marshall, now is the time for the next Franklin Roosevelt. Now is the time for great leaders to immerge and create the future that they envision

I beg of you, our nations elected officials who have at least gained the vote of the people, do what is right. Either engage the world in a unified voice of commitment or leave the world alone, because we are doing more harm than good with what the rest of the world sees as complete incompetence. As I breath air right now, I am not concerned about anything more than 100 hears because I know that even if we choose not to lead the world into the future my grand children will still live a life that is relatively superior to anywhere else on the earth, however if I cared about the future of the world and humanity and if life everywhere is to improve then it will require a leader from the only country left on the earth capable of carrying out the works that we currently perform every day.

Where have all the leaders gone, all that I see on TV is the petty politics that have constituted only the notion of winning. Maybe they do get it and their problem is that they can’t sell it to the American people. The politics of the day is to do two things, making you afraid of it and telling you who's to blame for it. “That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win elections. You gather a group of middle-aged, middle-class, middle-income voters who remember with longing an easier time, and you talk to them about family and American values and character.” Or in the case of today you tell them that their children are dying for a cause that is someone else’s fault. Their share of the blame is prefaced with the quote “if… I knew then what I know now.” As an Infantry officer I would have been fired a dozen times, not for the mistakes of my past but for the excuses of the present.

This is my concern, this is my fear, and this is my anger. This is the fallacy of a system that even when our leaders want to do what’s right they cannot. That even if they see a better answer, if it is not absolutely perfect it will not stand up to the fight for the status quo. Working with the notion that you must use the system to change it; so they grow good at getting what they want and never achieve the dominance required to fix anything. They are trapped in the pre war Europe balance of power struggle that ended in ultimate failure.

I want to look at a leader and be inspired. I want to hear the voice of reason, I want to hear the voice of someone who can sell me a future worth fighting for and then execute it. I want governance that does not pander to the mob but dictates to the mob from some position of educated wisdom and enlightenment. Show me a warrior statesman, show me a philosopher businessman, and give me someone with experience and capability and a mind. Some one that is not afraid to go against the grain and not get elected, and I would make him king.

Thank you for your time

In the service of the United States of America.

Cold Morning

Again I find myself alone, watching the falling snow from my window. With out even the capability to reach and touch it, hold hit, and feel it melt against my skin. I open the window, and stand bare before the cool sharp breeze that breaks through the stale air of the room. I am alone. John Dunn wrote clearly what he thought but his logic was fowled by the irresistible flaw of some divine connection. Oh, I believe, the connection ever so much as he does, yet mine is dramatically less personal. You can be separate from the whole, look at my shining example. Everything that I have touched has slipped past my grasp and has moved on. There are no consolation letters written for those who just cannot seem to grasp what is out in front of them. This feeble and flawed desire to see what is next, what is greener, and constant need to push harder and harder against life. I have pushed and pushed, and I see myself in others that have pushed their youth into old age. They survived a self-imposed harshness leaving either a bitter broken man hunched under the weight of his own failings, or the wise, experienced character that everyone looks too with interest and intrigue. Yet, I see it, beneath the surface, that the very man that all others marvel at goes home and is alone. He has earned his place by pushing hard against life to come out the other side with the most incredible stories. The most wondrous adventures. How many stories will I collect until I realize that the answers I have found are to the wrong questions. How many lives must I lead before I find the one that can fulfill me as a person. I see what I will become, and yet part of me respects who they are. Part of me desires to be that person. Is this an enjoyment of self punishment or just the enjoyment of the idea, and the rest is just self fulfillment. The clock rolls to four A.M. and I am up in front of a computer in contemplation. Do not be confused, I am not saying that life is easier for everyone else, in fact most days others would look to me and say that I moved more gracefully through the day than others. That I have experienced less friction. What they don’t recognize is the direction of the grain that they are moving with. That the friction that kills lays on another level. Oh, if I could just name the rub. So this morning I press my hands against the chill glass and give my heart to those who have lived.

Arlington

Oh how fate plays tricks on even the most reverent of us all. Without warning, a day that should have had the sharp crisp feel of winter to it suddenly warmed up, yet graying the sky in such a way as to leave you with the impression that neither day nor night was fast approaching. I have driven fifteen minutes to visit my friend. I have not seen him in some time and felt the need today. I stopped by the convenient mart and grabbed a small gift for him. In this overcast warming day snow tried to flee as fast as possible, laying bare rows and rows of white stones. It is a short walk from where I parked over a single rise and part way down a slope. The first time I came here, I memorized how many stones past a certain tree laid my friend. But now, it is almost on instinct that I look for a small Government Issue stone. Short and white I kneel before it. For the most part I am alone today and those others moving through the thin layer of snow and ice are being quiet. They do not seem to have the purpose that I have in my walk. Pulling from my bag a small flower that I hastily bought from the store and pull a bottle of Canadian Club that I brought from home. Laying the flower down I sipped my whiskey and as the sharp painful taste bit me the memories came flooding back. Images etched in time forever engraved on me. Trying as hard as I could to control my emotions with the waves of images; I close my eyes and clench my fist around the neck of the bottle. Another drink. This time the emotions surged through my body though no tears would come. None had come for years. Something much worse than tears, the reworking of the days events, looking for changes that could have been made, differences that should have happened. Each critical moment that could have changed the outcome of that days tragic events rolls through my mind. Painful and sharp the bitter taste in my mouth as I recognize all of the things that could have been done differently. What was I supposed to do, I was helpless. How was I supposed to change it, how was I supposed to make It different? Would it be better to have it been someone else or would it have been better if it was me? Another helping of whisky, and another; distant whisperings float down to where I am, others are starting to stair. They know why I am here and give me room. I push aside the memories, I am being too hard on myself or not hard enough. Either way it does not mater. The events took place so long ago that the world has moved on as I have. Except on those frost bitten days that I think back to the smiles and laughter that my friend and I shared for some lonely months in a desolate land.

Legion Lost

I am just another of the Legion Lost, my future sealed in the stones of the Fates, cast in their indifference to my pleasure. I smile at the thought of such haphazardness in which I feel my life has taken, knowing that the choices have all been mine. Knowing that if I did not tire of the things that are, and stopped the wanting of the strange and new. Then the world would be exactly as I design. Yet I do not fit in, and I cannot stay still. The ocean calls, the mountains beckon, and the skies scream their welcome. I must go, I must continue on. With a more and more frantic pace I reach forward as youth leaves me behind. Oh, how life has been a good joke on me. Oh; I am, one of the Legion Lost.

I am just another of the Legion Lost, my course is set and the fates have cast their stones. The glory of battle will be the last of my dreams as i dream no more. At war with more than my nations enemies i have killed in the name of countries and faiths. I have been the profits own sword from which he has wielded me forth in a fiery vengeance; not seen since the days of David. Well let it be known that the uncrowned king is still at large. His ego and dominance still in shrined in the ideals of Charlemagne and Caesar. Come hear my tales of camp, and i will fill your cup with blood and rage. The great tribes of the past chant out their eerie beats accompanied by their ghostly wails. Only the dead have seen the end of war and strife and only the living desire to see it.

Welcome to DC

A life of disordered thoughts in backlash from that of a disordered mind. Oh, how the Buddhist priests in New York are screaming, their lessons slowly erased from my mind as i struggle to move against the rising surf. Fear, frustration, anger, the natural progression from passive to aggressive in response. Each stage taking a clear measure of my capabilities and thoughts. The worlds own disorder has finally permeated through what i had unfortunately assumed was an impenetrable wall of self justification and purpose.

The DC area has taken its toll on my intellectual faculties. Knowing as a fact, of both education and experience, that the decisions made within the belt-way have direct impact on the rest of the world; unfortunately left me blind to the decision making process itself. Now living with in the confines of the center of world politics in both study and application; i find myself more afraid now than i did when pursuing military aims in foreign lands. 'Leader of the Free World' is my most favorite title placed on the Executive Branch's head. The implications of what this mean are so astounding that the world should have thought long and hard before this became vernacular, and before we unassumingly accepted. Titles and definitions, phrases and statements, legal and political, professional language is a necessity in the world at large to ensure the quality of goods. We should have known that a title explicitly implies compliance and acceptance of the role. So here is the rub, a nation based on laws, formed and executed by the dictates of the Constitution, has no strict or loose interpretation, implied or enumerated dictates of how to fulfill this new found roll. In fact the basic framework of a state for, of, and by the people was designed to never allow the fulfillment of this roll. Checks and balances and the idea that we just wanted to be left alone to trade with whom ever choose, laid the groundwork for an executive branch with almost no capabilities to lead the whole of the country let alone a host of nations.

This rant of governmental capabilities is my lesson learned as i now get a front row seat in watching the fall from grace of the American Statesmen, the politicization of the military, the end game justification in political maneuvering. At first i became afraid finding that this was the process that has sacrificed numerous lives on the alter of national interests, an alter that i stepped up to more than once and rested my hands upon. From fear, to frustration that there was no way that i could impact this process in a manner that would change anything more different than a butterfly landing on a tank. Frustration turning to anger in the realization that the best course is to maintain my position as an executer of policy, that our wrongs are the lesser of wrongs; even though i will loose my soul when i am no longer able to explain to others why i have laid another body upon our self built alter. Anger that the argument of the bureaucrats, will become mine, that the game must be played until you can make a difference. That to leave may do more harm than good, that my obligations have trapped me to this irreverent course. Anger of having to chew on pride, under the name 'good faith;' anger at the disappointment i feel to those whom the people of America have elected to lead them, not just to pander to them. Anger, that the voices that are heard are in no position to comment, and the voices that are hidden from the masses are the ones that should be discussed and listened to attentively.

So, i sit again at night in front of a computer, reading the emails from friends around the globe. They talk in clear, black and white statements of successes and failures according to measurements. Then they discuss in theory reasons and options, capabilities and intentions, reaching out to those who might posses an insight that will help them take another step forward. Theirs is a life that is content with the execution of policy, with out the entangling process of making the policy. For them and me, it is not the policy or justification, but how we get to the justification, the process. And here in this city of marble monuments dedicated to those whom have lead the unleadable through every hardship imaginable, i have found a body of politic incapable of leading.

Chasm

Sitting, waiting, unengaged, hoping for that moment that pure attentiveness will awaken with in me, setting free those lost souls that are stretched out behind me in a sea of misery that defines the mediocrity of life in choice. Defining what is the nature of life, and why does it always seem to echo across a chasm that has stretched too far out of my reach. The bridges are all gone and a man in size and shape only sits on the far side, contemplating the voices that shout resoundingly through his mind to stand, walk, run, blindly towards the undefined here and now. To only press towards today, and leave the past with the future. It is not so much that the answers are not there, carved into mountains of granite and clay to marvel at in completion. The true and real challenge being that the questions are not there waiting for you, placed down by some cosmic divinity; rather you are left to hear the echo’s of his laughter as you struggle to comprehend this true mistake of human nature.

The chasm widens the future catches back up to you bringing the past in tow. You cannot escape any of the moments that come crashing down on you. Silent screams fill your lungs as you buckle under the weight of choice. Free will forever rationalized behind obligation and place. Again your mind screams back against the flood. Stand! It yells, quoting Whitman, demanding from you the manuscript of your epitaph. Stand! Tall and blind. Stand, arms stretched out trying to bridge the very chasm that you have stared out across. Stand! And rage against the natural laws of earth.

What more can be asked of you, turn this small insignificant form of human quality into a man. Into a person, of perception and depth, of understanding. There are no more spaces unexplored as those precious few move away from the masses of ghosts waiting to suckle off of your own intentions. Walk with the confidence awarded to the few who have finally found today and allowed for the past and future to wait patiently for you to visit them. Finding all the answers right in front of you only because you choose to ask the right questions. There are no contradictions in life, you must always reevaluate your premise…

Sunset (July 2005)

What the hell is a BLOG, and who the hell am I writing it for. I have no one that actually reads this crap and in all honesty that is what this is going to be, crap. I am writing for my own amusement, on to a computer web page done out of complete boredom. Hey who knows, as my friend commented, it might get me laid. Hahah, anyways so, this is my first BLOG and I want to talk about the ocean because it is the farthest thing from life here in Iraq. I would give anything to see the ocean rise and fall with the crash of the tide. Feel the rhythmic power of the surf and feel the wind sweep across the waves, leaving behind the tell tail sparkles of a gust gone by. Feel the surge of the boat under you as the wind fills the sails with a sharp crack, lifting the hull from the water, and plaining across the bright blue liquid glass. The sharp taste of sea spray slapping you in the face, as you hike out on the rail trying to maintain control of the wind and the boat, steering toward some predetermined point in front of you. Feeling the sudden shift in the winds, making the corrections to the sails with the skill and efficiency of a professional, almost feeling the whims of the water and the wind driving your boat faster and faster along the line. Oh what I would give to be there now! Barefoot walking the beach, with a drink in hand, with friends, waiting for the steel drums to start playing for the nightly Sunset Festival, the party that is special every night. Oh to see the stars dance above the ocean again, putting your self to bed with the warmth of Rum. Waking in the arms of a beautiful girl, with the brightest smile that will wake you with warmth that no amount of coffee could compete with. So maybe it is a fantasy, well its my fantasy and when I get back from this desolate place that has taken friends from me with out reason, I will forget an entire year, in a bottle of rum on the beach starring out at the moon and stars.

Girls (November 2005)

To say I have no clue would be an absolute lie, after 20 some odd years I know exactly what I look for in a woman, the hard part is to put it to pen. Fun and excited, free and stable, a strong sense of independence, a brain to match the look, a self-made concept of virtue and honor, classy with a wild side, and the strength to smile against all odds. Not asking for much, eh. Well there is an easier list to make, the one of issues that has turned me away from a person. Whether it was because they were too clingy or needy, or to bitter and angry, or tried to turn me into a personal project of salvation, they taught me to recognize the small things that would be for sure a deal breaker. haha. Am I supposed to include physical features like our profile collects, well I am athletic I would like an athletic person; well there is the statement of the day.