The End, and a Beginning

A section of the Bourbaki-Panorama in Lucerne, Switzerland
Edouard Castres

Soldat Pierre Junot shuffled along the track, the snow had been compacted by the hundreds of men, horses, and wagons which had passed this way. It was slippery in spots and a number of men had fallen already. At first it had been amusing, then one old soldier had lost his mind.

"This is funny to you?" he had screamed at a young lieutenant.

"Now see here old fellow ..." the lieutenant had tried to pass it off, but the old soldier wasn't having any of it.

"The honor of France has been compromised. Our banners once swept Europe from the plains of Spain to the spires of Moscow. We crushed all who stood in our way, now we are letting ourselves be disarmed by the bloody Swiss! This day I am ashamed to be French!"

A senior sergeant had stepped forward from the shuffling column. "That's enough grand-père, everyone is on edge. Besides which, you wouldn't remember the time of the great Napoléon. What are you, fifty-something? The Emperor died before you were born."

Turning from the lieutenant he had been berating, the old soldier got in the sergeant's face.

"My father marched with the Emperor, he was old when I was born. But I remember his stories, once upon a time all of Europe trembled at the approach of French soldiers. AND NOW THIS!"

The old man turned quickly and pulled the lieutenant's pistol from its holster. Unfortunately for him, the lanyard which secured the weapon to its owner got entangled and the old fellow was unable to do anything with the weapon. As he turned to again scream at someone over his fate, the sergeant used the butt of his rifle to knock the old soldier down.

After the man fell, his blood bright on the snow, the lieutenant managed to compose himself. "Sergent, get the men back in order. Give me two men to bind this man," he gestured at the old man lying at his feet, "then we must move on. We are causing a pile up here on the track."

Indeed, the column had halted when the altercation had begun, an officer on horseback was shouting at the men to get moving and a lot of pushing and shoving was going on. Discipline was rapidly deteriorating.

"ENOUGH!"

Sergent Leduc had fired his rifle at the same time he had bellowed at the men.

"Fall in and march you bastards. The Prussians embarrassed us, we outnumbered them by two to one at the Lisaine, now you wish to show the damned Swiss what a laughingstock the French Army has become? Fall in and march or I will shoot you all, one by one."

As Junot's battalion shuffled on, Pierre looked back once, he saw the sergeant who had struck down the old man kneeling next to the still form lying in the snow, he was looking at his lieutenant, shaking his head. No doubt the old man was dead.

They had piled their weapons in great heaps, the Swiss soldiers had simply pointed where to drop their rifles and where to move to. Junot and his comrades were sitting near a barn on the outskirts of the town they had marched to, Pierre had no idea what the name of the place was, nor did he particularly care.

Captivity was strange, he supposed that this was better than being taken captive by the Prussians, word had spread through the army that the Prussians were not exactly "correct" when dealing with surrendered soldiers. One man claimed that near the village of Dornach, the Prussians had murdered over two hundred prisoners of war.

"What happened?"

Pierre looked up, a civilian was standing in front of him, the man was well-dressed and his French was very good, though the accent was odd.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Kossakowski, I'm a journalist."

"You're not French." Caporal Thionville, sitting next to Junot, noted.

"No, I'm Polish, well more Lithuanian than Polish, but that doesn't matter. I work for a newspaper in America. I was sent here to cover this war."

"Why should we tell you anything?" Pierre sneered.

"Oh I have a story, 'French armies destroyed by Prussian military might, grandsons of the great Napoléon's soldiers run like children when faced with Krupp steel,' or, I could listen to your experiences and write the truth."

"Ah, the truth, what is that?" Thionville shook his head. "Very few people want to hear the truth."

Kossakowski shook his head, "Believe me, the people who read my newspaper hunger for the truth. Americans have become very curious of the world since their own great Civil War."

"So you say." Pierre said, still not believing what was happening to them.

"Yes, so I say. What else do you men have to do? Tell your story, tell me how this tragedy came to pass. For I fear it is a tragedy, as a Pole, I have hated the Prussians my entire life. This defeat of your country is a tragedy for all of Europe, not just France. Soon you too will learn how difficult life can be under the Prussian boot heel."

Caporal Thionville looked up, their lieutenant was approaching.

"If my Lieutenant will give us permission, we'll tell you our story. If you're ready to listen."

"And what story is that, Caporal?" Lieutenant Jean de Caumont asked as he strolled up. "And who is this fellow?" He asked, nodding at the Polish civilian.

"He's a newspaper man, he hates Prussians and he's looking for a story." Thionville said, nodding at the Pole.

"Well, I don't see the harm in that. We will be here a few days."

Turning to the Pole, de Caumont said, "I hope you brought something to take notes with."

"Of course, Lieutenant ..."

"And perhaps some money for a bottle or two of the local wine, story-telling can be a thirsty business."

Kossakowski smiled, "I think we can arrange something. Where do we begin?"

"First the wine, my dear fellow. Then we'll tell you our story, from the beginning of this war up to the events of the last few days. Did you know our general committed suicide?"

Kossakowski shook his head, "Ah, he tried to commit suicide, but he failed."

De Caumont shook his head, "Can the poor fellow do anything right?"

Pierre Junot felt something on his cheek, he looked up and noted that snow was falling once more. So he stood up and said, "Perhaps we should find someplace more comfortable, out of this weather."

"A very good idea, Junot. Do you know of any place, Mr. Journalist?"

Kossakowski nodded, "Yes, I believe I do. Then we can start."

"At the beginning?" de Caumont asked.

"Yes, of course."

England then homeward bound

Ok, campers, by the time you read this, Mrs J and I will be somewhere over the North Atlantic en-route to Houston. (Which means replying to comments will be spotty if even possible and  even then delayed.) We’ll change planes then a hop, skip and a jump to Austin. Pick up the car and RTB College Station.

Our betting on reception at the house is the dogs will be excited to see us and a “Where have you been, my servants?” from the cat!

C’est la Vie!

A good trip, we made quite a few new friends on the  river cruise, drank some excellent Texas wine from Untamed Wine Estate winery on board, and also spent a couple of days getting reacquainted with Little J, LJW and Miss B in England. More info on the cruise can be found Here.

That latter person has made leaps and bounds of progress. Still a bit small, but smart as a whip. Not quite 4, she speaks in complete sentences and is able to participate and contribute in conversations. A well deserved “Well done” to her and her parents.

Did a bit of touring in France.

 

This was a bullfighting arena built in the Roman times in Arles France.  No bulls in it now, just a cat!

We also visited RAF Crouton, a WWII Fighter base.

 

Gave me a bit of the willies.  Lots of brave men took off from here, some didn't make it back.

 

Visited Blenhiem Castle, home of Winston Churchill.  Very cool, very British, very Large!

 

I don't remember exactly where this was, but Miss B seemed to like it. ;-)

 

Final visit was to Bletchley Park , home to the Code Crackers.This was one of the machines they developed.  Very, very interesting.

All in all, a very fun and interesting trip.  Mrs. J did a great job setting it up and handling "things".  Thanks, Dear!

See y'all next week! 

The Outpost

In the Trenches
Alphonse de Neuville
Source

Pierre Junot finished the letter he had been working on for over a week. He wondered if he'd ever have the chance to post it to his fiancée, Jeanne, in far off Paris. The Army of the Loire had been shattered by the Prussians and he, along with other survivors of his regiment, had moved eastwards to join up with the Army of the East.

Their commander, Bourbaki, was a Greek according to the sergeant. He'd commanded the Imperial Guard at the beginning of the war, but with his refusal to commit the Guard at Gravelotte he was in semi-disgrace. With the capture of the Emperor at Sedan, there was no  longer any need for the Guard. Bourbaki had thrown his lot in with the politician Gambetta, who had proclaimed the foundation of the Third Republic back in September.

Now they were somewhere near the Swiss border, rumors were rife that the army would march into Switzerland and lay down their arms. All Junot knew was that he was freezing and the shallow trench he and his comrades occupied barely sheltered them from the wind, let alone Prussian bullets.

Thing was, the Prussians were nowhere to be found. Scouts had gone out and made contact with the Swiss, they had reported back that the Prussians were absent.

"Probably living it up in Paris, everyone knows that the war is over." Junot muttered, half out loud, half to himself.

"What's that, Junot? You have something to offer?" Sergent Maurice Leduc snarled in his direction.

"No, Sergent, just complaining about the cold."

"Keep it to yourself, Soldat."

"Oui, mon Sergent."

Junot shook his head as he gazed out into the mist. The night was frigid and the fog had rolled in shortly after sundown. You could barely see ten meters from the trench. He remembered back to the early days of this war. Bright sunshine, warm weather, they had swept forth, intending to drive the hated Prussians back across the Rhine.

Instead they had been badly cut up, the Prussians were far more motivated and seemingly better equipped. They were certainly better led. No doubt Napoléon III's uncle the Napoléon was spinning in his grave at Les Invalides. France had seen better days, now the Prussians were getting their revenge for Jena and Auerstädt, the twin battles which had destroyed Prussia in 1806.

"Anything out there, Pierre?" Caporal Ernest Thionville asked as he handed Junot a piece of ration bread.

"Nothing that I can see. But it's quiet out there."

"Too quiet?"

Both men chuckled at the old joke. Junot chewed his bread, it was stale and was probably made partly of sawdust. They were reduced to the most basic necessities these days.

"Think we'll surrender to the Swiss, Caporal?"

"Yes, I do. We're not much of an army now, better to be interned in Switzerland than to become Prussian prisoners." Thionville, as was his habit, spat into the snow when he mentioned the Prussians. They had sacked his village and had murdered members of his family. He hated the Prussians with his entire soul.

Lieutenant Jean de Caumont cleared his throat as he approached the two soldiers chatting and eating bread. He was a polite man, he didn't want the men to be either startled by his appearance or to have them think that he was eavesdropping on them. But he had heard the mention of the surrender.

"Sir!" Both men came to attention when they saw their lieutenant.

"I think we will be going into Switzerland tomorrow. The battalion chief wants us mustered at dawn, ready to march. Apparently the Swiss have agreed to take us in until the government in Paris can decide what is to be done regarding the war."

Thionville scoffed, "What is to be done, Sir? Well, you either fight, or you surrender. Are there other options I'm not aware of? Begging your pardon, Sir, but this living in the open is getting tiresome."

De Caumont grinned, "Tell me how you really feel, Caporal. But you're right, we're accomplishing nothing here and Paris has sent no new orders."

"I've heard Swiss chocolate is good." Junot offered.

"No doubt we shall see. You two go ahead and rest, I'll take the watch for now. I can't sleep anyway."

As the two soldiers shuffled off down the trench, De Caumont sighed. What would his grandfather think of all this? His father's father had fallen in the 1815 campaign. Though he'd seen the enemy occupy Paris in 1814, he had died thinking that the Emperor would set things right. After all, his grandfather had died at Ligny, near the end of that victory, he had seen the Prussians retreating before a last cannon shot had taken his legs.

The old man had died the night before the defeat at Mont St. Jean¹, he didn't live to see the Prussians occupy Paris once more. No doubt he would be ashamed of his youngest grandson, De Caumont brushed a tear from his cheek. Of course, his grandfather would be ashamed of him, he was ashamed of himself.

Oh well, at least he had survived this debacle.

¹ Mont St Jean is what the French call the Battle of Waterloo.

The World and Other Thoughts

Source

Flying over the western United States, between the Rockies and the Sierra Nevada, makes me feel as if I was flying over the surface of Mars. I can't believe how sere and barren it looks from 30,000 feet.

The mountains look like bones protruding from a withered husk. Here and there you can see what have to be water courses, whether ancient or recent you can't tell.

There are few roads out there as there appear to be few settlements. Every now and then there will be a town, it stands out as there are green fields (often in the shape of a circle) no doubt irrigated by water pumped up from far below the surface.

It's an alien world out there, from the air at least.

The Sierra Nevada are still snow covered, as you lift off from Fresno (where I saw the Air National Guard's F-15 fighters under their overhead shelters near the end of runway 29R) you are over green fields. Soon you pass the foothills and then you're over the Sierra Nevada. Pretty rough country, but magnificent.

I've traveled all over the world, seen many a magnificent sight, from the Rockies to the Alps. Flown over both the Atlantic and the Pacific (truly miles and miles of nothing, though I did see the wake of a ship far below while flying to Japan once upon a time) and there are a lot of sights out there to marvel the eye. Some made by man, most of the better ones made by God.

The Mississippi Valley is very interesting, the many twists and turns of that river are amazing from the air. It marks the boundary between the very green eastern U.S. and the rather pale and stark (from the air) Great Plains. It's green, but paler than what is east of the river.

Once across the Rockies (I've flown over those mountains at twilight during the winter, saw a lone dwelling with a single light showing, surrounded by miles and miles of snow, pretty impressive really, in a haunting sort of way) you're in the desert. Not many towns, not many people, there is life down there, but you have to be on the ground to see it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that the good old U.S. of A. is a pretty magnificent patch of ground. It annoys me that there are those who want to destroy it, unwittingly or intentionally, on both sides of the political spectrum. Why is it that politics attracts so many assholes?

Indeed, why can't we all just get along? I tire of Facebook, too many idiots pontificating on things they're not qualified to pontificate about. I keep a low profile, I have friends, good ones, across the political spectrum, not on the boundaries mind you, closer to the middle, but still of differing opinions.

It's a beautiful world, let's try not to eff it up.

Sarge, out.

I'm Excited Again ...

The Foo Fighters, l to r: Dave Grohl, Ilan Rubin, Rami Jaffee, Nate Mendel, Pat Smear, Chris Shiflet
Source

Okay, so a couple of weeks ago I was feeling somewhat out of sorts, I posted about that here. That was the 29th of March, the very next day blog sister Zendo Deb posted this. I guess you might call that "exactly what I needed."

Now the trip to California helped boost my morale quite a bit (always good to see the kids) but musically the Foo Fighters new album has me pumped up about music again, specifically their music. While out in California I made a couple of new friends who are also big Foo fans. We talked a lot about their music.

I went ahead and preordered the new album from Amazon pre-California. Based on two songs, just two. Both of which are outstanding. The band has released two more songs off that album, both are superb.

Note that in the video Pat Smear is not present, he broke his leg and will be out of the game for a bit. Dave Grohl says he'll be back with the band when they start touring. Hope so. When I first saw the video I saw Pat's face on the kick drum and panicked, then I noticed he wasn't with the band. Prayers up for a quick recovery, Pat!

Anyhoo.

I'm loving the new drummer, Ilan Rubin. While listening to what there is of the new album I caught myself thinking that Taylor Hawkins was still alive. While Josh Freese is a superb drummer, there was something "off" about the band's energy when I saw them live a couple of summers ago. One of the reasons, as I understand it, as to why Dave let Josh go was that his energy didn't match the band's. You can watch a podcast about that here.

Listening to Ilan on the kit in this new album all I can say is, the guy is incredible. It feels to me that the band has their energy back.

Can't wait to see them in concert again.

Yeah, I'm excited.

A Blur ...

Landing at BWI in the wee hours of the 15th of April
OAFS Photo

As we were coming in for a landing, I was impressed by the lights, the feeling of speed as those lights rushed by the window. I had the thought, "Take the shot!" So I did.

Yeah, the image is a bit blurry, wasn't like that looking through the lens, but all in all, I like this outcome. The past week and a half went by so fast I hardly know where to begin to tell the tale. It's all a blur.

So, I'll start at the beginning. Monday, the 6th of April in the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand Twenty Six.

LUSH's youngest was going to celebrate her First Communion on the Saturday after Easter. As we attended her older sister's First Communion a couple (or more) years ago, we felt that our presence was required. Not a problem, I haven't been to Hanford (where they live) in quite some time. So a trip was overdue.

Big Time's parents, his brother and his wife and their son, would also be there. Unfortunately, Big Time couldn't be there, he's over there, fighting a war. Not his first rodeo but damn, I hope this is it for him. I mean he's close enough to retirement that he can smell it.

Anyhoo, here's what the outbound leg looked like:

Est. Travel Time: 13h 15m

Flight  #4306 Departs  PVD 12:40PM Providence Arrives  MDW 02:25PM Chicago (Midway)

Stop:   Change planes

Flight  #3996 Departs  MDW 04:05PM Chicago (Midway) Arrives  SAN 06:35PM San Diego

Stop:   Change planes

Flight  #2216 Departs  SAN 09:30PM San Diego Arrives  FAT 10:55PM Fresno, CA

Made for a rather long day, especially that layover in Sandy Eggo. As I mentioned in an earlier post, we were in the new terminal, so I didn't get a chance to see where I've been before. But as Sandy Eggo was only a stop on a long trip, no time for reminiscing anyway.

But still.

Now LUSH and her tribe are non-stop, both girls are heavily into cheer competitions, which has to be one of the most intense sports I've ever seen. Non-stop movement, tumbling, aerial stuff, and all coordinated to a level that the Blue Angels and Thunderbirds might recognize.

L to R: The Missus Herself, L'il Sweetie, LUSH, Little Bit, The Nuke, and Your Humble Scribe
Everyone, except moi, looking rather Asian I might add.

That photo was taken at what they call a showcase, the two teams at their gym put on a short program for the parents, grandparents, and friends. The two teams consist of the more experienced athletes on one team (both of my granddaughters are on that team) and the other team being athletes who aren't as experienced. These teams travel around the country competing. The senior team has won a number of championships. Having seen them in action, I'm not surprised.

I was out of breath and aching all over just watching them tumble and twirl.

So during the time we were out there the girls were going to cheer practice, going to school, and trying to spend time with their two sets of grandparents. Of course, there's also the time difference. I'd wake up at 0830, wondering why, then realizing it was actually 1130 back home. I was just about getting used to it when BAM - it was time to head home. As the team was heading to Orlando for a competition at the end of the week, we had to return home. Primarily because The Missus Herself's garden ain't gonna get itself ready for summer!

The return trip:

Tuesday, 04/14/2026

Est. Travel Time: 11h 35m

Flight  #2575 Departs  FAT 05:30PM Fresno, CA Arrives  LAS 06:50PM Las Vegas

Stop:   Change planes

Flight  #1673 Departs  LAS 10:15PM Las Vegas Arrives  BWI 05:45AM Baltimore

Stop:   Change planes

Flight  #1263 Departs  BWI 06:45AM Baltimore Arrives  PVD 08:05AM Providence

I much prefer flying from Vegas to Baltimore for the long leg as opposed to Chicago to Sandy Eggo. Felt a lot shorter, and that makes a BIG difference.

It was sad having to leave though, made three new friends ...

This is Elsa, LUSH's cat. We got along famously.

This is Aurora, Lush's oldest dog and a big old sweetie pie.

And this lovely lady is Brownie, the youngest of the household. She got very attached to me. And I to her. A wonderful dog.

It was fun, but it all ended far too soon. We'll need to get back out there when Big Time gets home. Not sure when that will be. Sooner rather than later I hope.

Now it's back to normal and ...

Oh wait, it's time to clean the koi pond, lay the mulch, and cut the grass. Not my idea of normal but hey, it is what it is.

I can but obey my master's call.

It Was Fun ...

OAFS Photo

Saturday morning ...

A great trip to California comes to an end. Short, busy, and filled with family and friends. Now it's back to Little Rhody and the "normal" life.

More to follow.

Red eye back to Little Rhody, I so love those, but hey, a ticket is a ticket. It's a long flight no matter what. I'll just suck it up and carry on.

I'll write more of this trip when I get back on solid ground.

Until then, stay frosty.

Ciao!