The Friday Flyby - 19 April

AH-64 Apache

Thought I'd try a little something different this Friday.

We've done jets, we've done the Battle of Britain, we've done aces, I thought, "Today, let's do helicopters!" More specifically military helicopters.

Blog buddy Pogue is a helicopter kinda guy. I'm sure there are others out there who visit and are associated with the rotary-winged work horse which is the helicopter. The WSO used to date a helicopter pilot, Lex's SNO is a helicopter pilot. So, it's time to give the rotor-heads some love!

First: the United States Army...

Now That's Flying!

Next up: the United States Navy...

SH-60 Seahawk

Things That Go "BOOM"

My guys: the United States Air Force...

MH-53 Pave Low

HH-3 Jolly Green Giant (Vietnam)

Last (certainly never least): the United States Marine Corps...

AH-1W Super Cobra

A USMC CH-46E  of HMM-162 Lifting Off from USS Kearsarge

Let's see some mini-gun action...

Helicopters don't move all that fast, but they kick butt!

Now I know this next beast isn't exactly a helicopter, but t'ain't 'zactly an airplane neither!

But it rocks!

V-22 Osprey

UPDATE:

A wee bird ('twas a Robin methinks) reminded me that I FORGOT SOMEBODY!

Yes, the United States Coast Guard! How could I forget these valiant men and women.

"You have to go out...

you don't have to come back."

MH-60 Jayhawk

HH-65 Dolphin

Semper Paratus!

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

Joe, better known round these here InnerToobs as The Cranky Old Man has decided, for reasons known only to God and himself, to bestow upon me this:

Before I get into the particulars of this award (which I will hereinafter refer to as the EAAoEA, for obvious reasons) I want to thank Joe for this award. He has bestowed this (I assume) prestigious award upon these folks as well:

1. Suldog
2. (not necessarily your) Uncle Skip
3. Katrina

Now I've been following Suldog and Skip for a while now. I've briefly checked out Katrina's blog, first glance is interesting, need to spend a bit more time there, obviously.

Now when I was first notified of this award, I approached it as a cat approaches something new in their environment. That is, tentatively, with a lot of sniffing, and a certain amount of trepidation. After all, it was Joe giving out the award. Don't get me wrong, I love Joe, I respect Joe, but hey, it's Joe. They don't call him the Cranky Old Man for nothing right?

I suppose it's the same amount of suspicion we all had in our youth when the baseball went into that guy's yard. You know, the couple down the street who appeared to be a billion years old and had no kids? And the guy always wore his pants like this - 

You know, that whole "does this guy even have a waist somewhere in there"?

But as you get older, you realize that that old couple is not a billion years old, they're in their 60's or 70's and they do have kids, it's just that they're all grown up and moved away. Still when you're a kid, they seem really really old and having no kids makes them, suspicious. So when the ball goes into their yard, it feels like you're not going to get it back, ever.

Again though, when you grow up, you find out that the old couple are really, really nice and that he had a really cool job before he retired. Oh, he usually turned out to be a veteran too.

So getting this award from Joe is kind of like finding out that that ancient geezer down the street is actually pretty cool. And I just realized that I've spent a few moments insulting the Hell out of Joe. And why? Dude just gave me an award. And I'm trashing him. And he's probably of a similar age as myself. Maybe a couple of years older. Maybe.

And I'm going to be 60 next month. Holy Crap! When did that happen? Who the Hell signed the paperwork making me eligible for geezerhood? Damn, do I have to go out and buy pants that fit like, "that"?

Do I have to go out and buy a hat like this?

Do I need to start wearing suspenders? OMG! I am on the threshold of "Old Fartness". How can this be. Arrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

Okay, calm down. It's just an award. From a fellow blogger. A blogger I like, a lot! It's no big thing, it's kind of touching and cool really (in a manly, non-creepy way, mind you).

Apparently there are a number of stipulations that come with this award. All of which I am going to ignore. I enjoy defying the rules and flaunting my independence. From what I understand, I'm supposed to "nominate" ten other bloggers for this award and make up and answer ten "personal" questions about myself. Okay, I'll do the question thing. Here are the answers, I'll let you imagine the questions:

1. Yes
2. Blue
3. Mauve is a color? Oh, uh, no.
4. Oregon
5. Tanganyika
6. 27.5 kilometers
7. Space Shuttle
8. F-4 Phantom
9. Hogan's Heroes
10. Peanut M&Ms

Gee, wasn't that fun?

Oh, the title of the post? "All earthly glory is fleeting."

It's kind of how one should feel about awards in my book. I am going to do a follow-up post regarding this award. Did you think that was it?

Hell no! I'm betting I can get a lot of mileage out of this, after all I've won the EAAoEA. I'm special. Right?

Bueller?

Sullivan Ballou

Oddly enough, I had never watched this series before now. I see by the OAFSSRFTOTN that the series originally debuted in September of 1990 airing on five consecutive nights from the 23rd to the 27th. I was stationed at Offutt AFB in Nebraska (SAC Headquarters) and had a television. My work schedule was not burdensome, I just missed it.

Now, through the magic of Netflix, I am watching this, saw Part 1 last night. I regret not seeing it the first time.

Now I know there are a lot of Southerners who object to calling that conflict "The Civil War". Believe me, I understand. But get over it. We're all Americans now. That was a different time with huge differences between the way we were then and the way we are now. You weren't alive then, neither was I. Americans shed each others' blood back then. Since then we've shed blood together, in other fights. Whatever you want to call that earlier conflict, knock yourself out. Doesn't rattle my cage either way. Mr. Burns went with "The Civil War". His series, his choice.

All that aside, it's an interesting series. There are parts I have problems with (objectively and subjectively), but for the most part it's well done and well presented. FWIW, Ken Burns hails from the same small town in New Hampshire as my Dad. Different generations though. (Correction: Mr. Burns lives in my Dad's home town now, he's not from there. He was born in Brooklyn, NY.)

Now there was one story near the end of the first episode that really resonated with me and not just because it deals with a soldier from Rhode Island, which I currently call home. It's the story of Major Sullivan Ballou of the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry. Or rather the story of the letter from the Major to his wife back home.

As is usual though, that's only part of the story.

Major Ballou died of wounds received at First Bull Run (First Manassas) and was buried in the vicinity of the battlefield. That part of the story is not nearly as romantic as that portrayed in the Ken Burns series. Both though are part and parcel of what war can be like.

It seems that Major Ballou's grave was desecrated. You can read that story here. Like I said, not as romantic. But war is Hell. It's also nasty and brutish and every kind of terrible that you can imagine.

What started as simply my wanting to share this sad and touching story of a dead soldier's last letter home in a time gone by, turned into something a little more than that.

Interesting stories can often turn out to be a little more complex than you realize. You can't always take someone's version of a story at face value. What is that person's motive for telling you the story? To entertain? To convince? To simply convey information? To sell you something?

So whether you're watching or reading the news, whether it be on television, the radio or on the internet, take it with a grain of salt. There's always more to the story.

Sometimes you need to do some research. Dig a little deeper, as it were.

It's too bad that most modern journalists can't be bothered to do that.

Still and all, Major Ballou's story touched me. RIP Sir.

The Attack

Why?

I've been feeling rather melancholy since Monday.

It started out as a normal week, just another Monday. As I was leaving work, I got in my car, turned on the radio and learned that one or more minions of Satan had, again, decided that killing innocent men, women and children was a great idea.

The celebration of Patriot's Day in Boston, the Boston Marathon, shattered by explosions. Marred by blood and pain. But again, a ray of light as ordinary people again stepped up to help their fellows.

I spent most of Tuesday in a sort of detached and pondering mood. Trying very hard to stay away from the media with their pontificating and theorizing. Their ghoulish celebration of victimhood. Apparently filling the 24/7 news cycle requires more drooling idiocy than I would've thought possible.

And just now, this very minute, I've heard that someone I know (and respect), who works where I work, was injured in the attack in Boston. She's a lovely young woman, very bright and personable who now lies injured in a Boston hospital, wondering if she will lose a foot. It sickens me, it angers me.

Folks who wanted nothing more than to enjoy their day at the Boston Marathon, who had probably never harmed anyone, anywhere, ever, now lie dead. Or lie in hospital beds missing limbs, or waiting to find out if their limbs can be saved.

And there are the loved ones of those injured and lost. Confused and angry. "Why us, how could this happen?"

There is great evil in this world, make no mistake. It stalks the innocent, it cares not for mercy, for love nor for anything else which normal folk call "decency".

This post started as one thing, wound up going down a different road due to the news of a co-worker's injuries. It's no longer an abstract thing. It's become a bit more personal.

And to tell you the truth, I'm just a little bit ashamed that I didn't take it this personally before.

My apologies to all of those affected by the events in Boston. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

It is written, "Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

Evil touches all of us if it touches one of us. Never forget that.

Get well soon, Heather.

Update:

Just heard from the WSO. She gave me news of a family we were stationed with in Germany, lovely folks, their daughters are of an age with my daughters. The girls played softball together. Their youngest daughter, Susie, ran the Boston Marathon on Monday. She had finished the race about an hour before the attack.

They were in the vicinity but not the immediate danger area. They are unharmed but certainly had the you-know-what scared out of them.

Mighty glad to hear you and your lovely ladies came away unscathed Cap'n!

Ripples.

What touches one of us, touches all of us.

Get Some!

U.S. Air Force Airman 1st Class Travis Bowen unleashes a barrage of bullets from an M249, April 18, 2012, during a joint exercise at Travis Air Force Base, Calif. Airman Bowen is  assigned to the 571st Global Mobility Readiness Squadron at Travis AFB. (U.S. Air Force photo by Master Sgt. Dwayne Johnson)

Yeah, sometimes even the Air Force gets to play with fun stuff.

What do I do when the mood to blog has all but fled? Why, post pictures, of course.

Yeah, I feel all better now.

I Am Sad, I Am Angry

So, who still thinks we're not at war?

An Old Story (But Worth Repeating)

F-4 Phantoms of the North Dakota Air National Guard

A reader sent me this link. It's a great story. Hint: The F-4 plays a big role, but it's not the hero of the story. And yes, those folks in the picture were involved.

With a Tip O' the Hat to Don McC...
Thanks Again Don!