Return to Chernoybl – or why Beans has been missing except for comments.

And now for something Completely Different...

This summer was weird. Spring was dry and cooly summerish, while Summer was a wet, fetid hell. Mold and mildew everywhere, strange Lovecraftian sounds and vague glances of new horrors that… no, it’s a rooster, hello Mr. Rooster…

With the molds and mildews came the worse case of combined low-grade sinus infections and upper respiratory maladies that just made it miserable to try to breath indoors, let alone outside in the Mugginess…

So that, along with some other issues with the better half of my life, sucked all fun and energy out of the summer.

Then, came…

Day 1. (calendar date 08/23/19) Must keep journal. United Healthcare (it’s a lie, it’s not healthcare…) broke in and this tech looking vaguely Jeffish Goldbloomy tossed me into some strange portable reactor and said, “You’re costing us too much money, kid, so suck it!” A loud bang, much flashing of strange lights piercing my skin to my very core, the tech deposited my maligned body back into my bed. All seems normal except for the creepy crackling under my skin, as if small insects or cracks in my skull were occurring. 

What the UH Guy looked like before he tossed me into the portable reactor.
(no, actually from "The Fly")

Day 2. (calendar date 08/24/19) No more visits from UH goons, looking like Jeff Goldblum or not. Thankfully. Right forehead still crackly, like the feeling of a deep bruise breaking up and sending daggers of clots into the blood stream, or like the way the forehead felt when Dr. Zorro hacked out a cancer clump (benign, thankfully, and it wasn’t his brother Dr. Drunken Zorro, so the scars are minimal and nice looking.)

Day 3. (calendar date 08/25/19) Subtle concerns as to what may have happened to my right forehead. Warmer to touch, not swollen, but not painful, much. Definitely wondering if cancer has returned. Must watch for further signs. Getting an urge to eat liquid food. Curious.

Day 4. (calendar date 08/26/19) My hair on the top of my head hurts. Little needles spiking into my skin. Hmmm. (takes shower, hits area with hot water and soap) Sensation of pain has lessened. Scrubbed all oils off, felt like beginnings of poison ivy or other biological reaction. Increase Benadryl intake, monitor. Forehead still crackling in pain, reaction noted previously (years ago) either connected to cancer (please, no) or reaction to waxy green plants… Must continue to monitor.

Day 5 (calendar date 08/28/19) right side of face above eye swelling, red, definitely looks like poison ivy, as weepy lesions are appearing. Pain. Oh, the pain… Swelling bad. Right eye problems seeing. Pain. Right Eyebrow definitely growing all Cro-Magnon. Face looking bad, real bad. Not feeling good at all. Feel like I’m in a transitional state to something… PAIN!!!! ADVIL NOT GOOD ENOUGH!!!!! PAIN!!!!!!!! 

Artist's rendition of Bean's whole face if Bean's whole face was affected
(from the movie "The Fly")

Day 6 (calendar date 08/29/19) Bzzt, bzzzztttt! Bzt. Bzzzt, bzzzttttbzzztttt. BZZZZZTTTTT! BZTTTTTTTTT!!!! (Mrs. Andrew, “Let me look at you! Now!”) BBBZZZTTTTT!!! BZZTTTZTTZTTT!! (“Get over here and let me look at you or I’ll…) (Beans-brain, must reassert itself!)(Brundle-Beans – BRZTTT!!ZZT!BRRZZZTTTTT!) (Mrs. Andrew, “Calling Doctor B., NOW! (phone conversation) You’re going to the Doctor at 2:30pm today or ELSE) Beans-brain and Brundle-Beans – “Yes, ma’am.” (Have I ever said how much I really love my wife? Well, lots. Like supertanker much in a 5 gallon gas can world. Or even more…) 

Artist's rendition of what Beans would look like if his whole face looked like the right upper quadrant of his face...
(yes, from "The Fly", duh)

So me and Brundle-me go to the doc. I’m still thinking it is a bad poison something (oak, ivy, some other waxy green thingy (I am allergic to waxy green thingies)) or to the flea goop I gooped the dog with. Get to the docs, with hat on and sunglasses as my face is even more atrocious looking than ever, get checked in, get taken back by the Doc’s Nurse, who asks me why I’m there, so I take off my hat and glasses and say to her “I am not an animal, I am a human being.” And she says, “That’s the worse case of…. I’ve ever seen…”

So she calls another nurse over, who immediately says, “That’s the worse case of…. I’ve ever seen…”

Trundled off to Exam Room #7, the Beans Suite, which seems small without Mrs. Andrew, Lurch (her power chair, which lurches at high speed, thus “Lurch”) or Dog Kegan also there, like in normal times. And I wait, and I can actually feel my teeth moving from the swelling (a normal occurrence with me, due to lots of sinus swelling, which cause the upper teeth to shift around, weird, painful, but totally ‘normal’ to me.) And pain. Lots of pain.

Doc B. finally walks in, and I say, “I think I overdid my makeup for my part in ‘Return to Chernobyl,” at the same time he shouts, “That’s the worse case of Shingles I’ve ever seen!” Followed up by the wonderful question of, “Does it hurt a lot?”

My answer was, “It hurts so much I’d rather have a camera shoved up Mr. Happy (which I have had, very painful, pretty much the most painful thing that’s ever happened to me, until…) so what do you think?”

Dr. B. laughs (we have that kind of doctor-patient relationship, and, yes, on seeing a bad bruise from fighting, he has stuck his finger in it and said “Does that Hurt?” Yeah, he’d fit in here on the Chant quite well, would Dr. B.) and says, (yes, he actually said this) “My friend, this is going to suck. But you’ll be okay, for values of okay, as long as you don’t get any direct involvement in your right eye or right ear.”

By this time, the eyelids have swollen until the eye isn’t seeing anything, so he does a visual acuity check with me forcing the eyelids open. Whew, I can still see. And he gives me a hearing check, which matches the last crappy hearing test I had (yeah, my hearing sucks, not from blowing stuff up but more due to bad genetics and really powerful meds as a kid. Tinnitus has been my life-long friend. Yay, me.)

Prognosis, as long as it doesn’t actually affect the eye, go home, take serious drugs. If eye gets funky (actual words) go to the University Emergency Room as they have an on-staff eye doc. Take Valacyclovir and Gabapentin, keep taking Advil and Benadryl, sucks you can’t take opiates (yeah, I’m one of those, can’t do opiates, most anesthetics are very bad for me.) Call if you get significantly worse…

On the way out, get informed by counter people that my medical insurance has been cancelled. WTFudge?

Drive home, in pain, in dark mood, totally pissed at the world.

Get home, inform Mrs. Andrew and Kegan what’s up, call the insurance company that’s recommended by AARP (previously named at top of post, so make your assumptions) and begin conversation with the phone people who only can operate off scripts and show no independent thought and find out that my insurance was cancelled. Not why it was cancelled, but that it was cancelled. So, after a very Anglo-Saxonish tirade on my part, the dweeb on the line realized he was out of his depth, and switched me to someone who could actually maybe answer my question as to why, if they are taking out money for my insurance, why my insurance is cancelled.

Nice lady finally says… “Well, you never answered our letters as to your current residence, so we cancelled you.”

“What residence did you send the letters to?”

“We sent the letters to X address (the address I had for 1 month before moving to current address, of which I informed insurance company at time of move that I had moved.)”

“What? You (tirade full of Anglo-Saxon expressions, few which were very nice) have been sending me mail to my current address since February 2016 so what is your problem? (followed by more not nice stuff…) You !!Y!Y(%(%**R))” (Mrs. Andrew snatches phone out of my hand)

Well, yeah, seems some computer glitch went ‘Glitch’ and said, Hey, Beans, you live at Y address even though we’re sending you mail at Z address and you haven’t responded to our messages sent to Y address so you’re cut off. But we can restart you on September 1st! So things are good, right?

NOOOOOOOO!!!!! MY FACE IS ON FIRE AND IS SO UGLY I WILL SCARE A LEPER! WANT MEDS NOW!!! YOU PEOPLE ARE COSTING ME PAIN NOW!!!! ARRRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

So, get signed up. For to start the following Sunday. Because they screwed up.

F’ing hate the world, I do. Far too often this CARP happens to me. Far, far too often.

Get passed by someone, I get pulled over for going 3 miles over the speed limit (happened twice! By cars that match standard parameters of DRUG COURIER VEHICLES) FML!

Working on killer project, mouse catches on fire and have no backup mouse (I have set 10 of the old-school ball-type computer mouses on fire. Mostly just releasing the magic smoke out of them, but one actually spouted flames and melted! Why? And Why ME?)

Things like that.

Day 7 (calendar day 08/30/19) Pain, fever, the shakes, feel like warmed over dog poo, or any Hormel food product. Grump, must hold out till Sunday, Sept. 1st. Because I’m a cheap bastige, yes I am. Day goes horribly. Dog Kegan headbutts me on the right side of face, I don’t hit him, or punch a hole in the wall, or turn into a giant green dude from anger or pain or both, but… must… control… fists… of… DOOM!!! I go hide in bathroom and cry from pain. I take more Advil, bum a Gabapentin from wife and cut it to roughly right amounts of prescribed material, take G. Hide from world. World SUCKS!!!!

Day 8 (calendar day 08/31/19) Wake up. Right eye has disappeared, replaced by huge swelling. Clean goop out of eye, eye still works… barely. Pain is PAIN. PAIN HURTS. PAIN SO BAD SCREW BEING CHEAP BASTIGE, DRIVE TO PUBLIX, GET DRUGS YOU CHEAP BASTIGE. So I get drugs, get some food down, get drugs down, pass out as sleeping is only way to ignore pain, pain keeps me from sleeping, hate the world, good thing I already had chili frozen, fix chili, can’t eat much, go to bed.

Day 9 (calendar day 9-1-19) Who-the-friggin-hooo, first day back on insurance YOU BASTIGES!!!! (no, I don’t hold grudges (he says while wiring the building with explosives and gasoline.)) Pain really bad, forehead on right side of face, well, actually, head on right side from just below eye over top to back of head even with just below eye level, is swollen and has lumpy pussy bloody lesions appearing all over. Did I mention PAIN? Well. PAIN!

Day 10-current time. Every day, less overall pain. Red is slowly disappearing, as is swelling. Right eye functions better each day as huge amounts of goop come out of eyehole, every day, swab out huge amounts of just goop. Yay. Goop. Lesions drying up, skin on fire. Deep nerve pain appearing. Weeeee.

So now I have a mostly normal looking face, though you can still see a dividing line center of forehead going up from nose, left side perfectly normal, right side still somewhat swollen, barely, and still somewhat red, barely.

But. Pain in eye socket as nerves in skin around eye fire off. Think nail under skin (yes, I’ve nailed myself, it hurts.) Random feelings of hot bacon grease splashing skin (yes, been splashed with hot bacon grease, thanks older brothers…) Random feeling of being hit in unprotected head by hickory stick (Yes…)

Wait? Whut? Hickory stick to Head? Oh, we’ve got to hear this…

Okay, so when doing sword practice, you don’t actually use a real sword, for the most part. And you don’t actually hit real people, until you know how to use a sword. So, in the SCA, we use pell sticks instead of real swords (which we don’t use, we use rattan) and they’re usually hickory axe and hammer handles (because you don’t want to pulp your good rattan, do you?) And we use, instead of a wooden pell (a pell is a sword target thingy. Think Bayonet Practice. That hanging dummy? That’s a pell, sort of.) Being SCAdian, we tend to make pells out of tires, no, seriously, old tires, either nailed to a post in the yard (or on a moveable base made out of a tire filled with cement with which the post is inserted into) or a hanging pell (somewhat bodyish shape made by tires tied together hanging from a tree.)

One takes the pell stick, approaches the pell, and practices one’s shots. Forehand shots, backhand shots, this shot, that shot, hammer shot. Ah, the Hammer Shot. Imagine you have a hammer in your hand. And there’s a nail sticking out of the center of the enemy’s helm (in this case, since it’s a pell, it’s a rubber tire masquerading as a helm. So you swing your hammer-shot from in front of your face into the center of Mr. Pell. Which is a rubber car tire. Which rebounds your pell stick back at you. Into your face, if you’re not careful. Which everyone I know has whacked themselves with a pell stick from such a rebound from a hammer shot. Weeeee! Who knew medieval fighting could be so much fun. And, so, yessssss, I do know what it feels like to get whacked in the face by a wooden stick, hard. (I may throw a not-fast shot, but no-one has ever accused me of throwing a light shot. Usually quite the opposite, if I may say so myself (well, as my Knight has told me many times, “If you don’t win, but three days later they’re still rubbing their bruises and complaining about you, you’ve actually made an impression on them… (Bdum-ching….))

Prognosis: Pain will eventually go away, but may take up to a year or more… Shingles doesn’t come back, usually, but chance of reoccurrence of shingles is increased if one has had multiple cases of Chicken Pox. Well… Damn. Had Chicken Pox, Twice! Beans can’t be normal, can he? Swelling will slowly go away, up to 5-6 weeks. Eye should return to 100% pre-Shingles, once all the lesions inside the eyelids heal, and the eye quits snotting and gooping huge amounts of stuff.

Recommendations: If you have had Chicken Pox, and you haven’t had Shingles yet, and you can afford it, GET THE VACCINE!

Don’t be Beans. Don’t think, “Nahhhh, I’ll never get shingles, I can save the money…”

And that’s what I’ve been doing this summer. Any reason why I’ve been in a fouler mood than normal? Nahhhh....

WTF*

(Source)

"Dumpster fire" - a metaphor for a chaotically bad situation. (Source)

I'm sure that most of you have a certain mental image when you hear the term "dumpster fire," whether it involves your favorite sports team, some institute of higher learning, your place of employment, or perhaps even government at some level. (All levels?)

To my way of thinking, most of the world right now is a dumpster fire. One could argue that it always has been, at least since Adam and Eve.

A: Wow, this place is nice and she's really cute. 

God: Yes, I made her just for you, this whole garden is just for you guys. Enjoy it, just don't eat from that tree in the middle of the garden. 'Kay? 

A: Sure Lord, we'll give that one a pass.

So of course, Satan, in the guise of a snake, convinces Eve that the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was just super good and hey, why don't you try a piece, no one will know?

We know how that worked out...

Then the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil. Now, lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever—” therefore the Lord God sent him out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man, and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life. Genesis 3:22-24 (ESV)

Then you get brother slaying brother, and pretty much everything becomes a raging dumpster fire. God tries to halt this with Sodom and Gomorrah, just wiping those places off the face of the Earth. But no dice, that dumpster fire just won't go out, so yeah...

God: Noah, I need you to build an ark. 

Noah: What's an ark?

Forty days and nights of rain, all life wiped out, except what's on the ark. (Hey, wait a minute, where did that olive leaf come from?) A massive do-over, a Mulligan on a global scale man...

Sorry, I got carried away.

Anyhoo, dumpster fires and the state of the world.

There are parts of the world where things have always kinda sucked. Big chunks of Asia, Africa, parts of Europe, parts of the Americas, and parts of Europe as well. (What about the ANZACs Sarge? I dunno, ask the aboriginals and the Maori how they feel about the Euros grabbing up all the good stuff.)

As civilization advanced, things got better, unless you were a slave/serf/peasant. So yeah, maybe not. How about Western Civilization Sarge? You know, the Age of Reason, universal suffrage, Emancipation Proclamations and all that. Well, things still sucked for a lot of folks for a lot of years, like try being black in some regions of this country 50 or 60 years ago. Try being Native American at lots of points in history, even today.

But things got better, steadily better, especially after we'd wiped out the Nazis (the real ones, not the shallow punks that parade as Nazis these days), and after the Soviets imploded. Things were looking up.

But in typical human fashion some of us had to screw it up. Yup, looking at the Clintonistas and the Great Divider and his ilk. (W revealed his true colors when Trump was elected, old fashioned party politics over what's best for the Nation. So yeah, I like the guy but thought his Presidency kinda sucked. Can you say Iraq and Afghanistan? I knew you could.)

Now we have a new crop of fanatic leftist assholes (though I repeat myself) who want to re-stoke that smoldering dumpster fire so we can all hate each other again.

Remember the Cold War (which wasn't always "cold"), you know after WWII when the Commies and their fellow travelers lined up against the Free World? Well, since 2016 we've been in what I like to call a cold civil war. Elements of the government trying to overturn a legal election, elements of the government lying to bring down a duly elected President (whether you like him or not), elements of a certain party conspiring to impeach elected officials on no evidence whatsoever.

We're at war folks, yes, a cold one but if the left loses in 2020 expect it to get hot.

Yet another dumpster fire in human history.

Well, that's fantastic.





* Well, that's fantastic. What did you think I meant? Well, yes, I did. And yes, I am awfully pissed off these days. I need to write about history or something before the left makes it illegal. We hates them Precious, yes, we does.

Worth the Fight

Bringing the Heat                                                                        Source

Sarge is “In a Black Mood” and the other day he said “The political stuff leaves me gasping for fresh air”  So while he's out enjoying some fresh air for a day or two, I’m breathing some of the hot air that makes the political environment so intolerable.  More on that in a bit. By the way, that picture doesn't have much to do with the post, but those Warthogs are ready for a fight.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that my son is autistic, and raising a special needs child had its ups and downs.  Nothing is ever easy and when it seems like you’re getting ahead, something will undoubtedly come up to keep you humble.  When it came to his education, we were often reminded to not become complacent, but also to count our blessings.  We learned that fairly early in his upbringing, not through failure, but by realizing a success.  When we moved from Bremerton Washington back to San Diego, we put him in the neighborhood elementary school for him to finish Kindergarten.  Being autistic, we knew it would be a tough transition for him, especially since it was a mid-year school change, so he wasn’t able to keep up.  They didn’t have a special education class though so we were advised by the wife of a former squadron-mate, an early intervention education specialist, to ask for an aide.  We did and he had a one-on-one aid for the rest of the year which helped.  A couple years later at a better school, one with a resource teacher and special education classes, the aide was still there.  We met the mother of another classmate who was well behind and falling further.  She asked us how we got the aide and we just said we simply asked for it.  They were of Mexican descent, there was somewhat of a language barrier, and so she had no idea that anything like that was possible.  The school district must to provide a child with the necessary accommodations, but we then realized that a kid would only get additional help if it was requested, assuming the parent knew what was available.  Even if it was written into their Individualized Education Plan (IEP),  a parent had to sometimes forcefully advocate for their child to get help.

My "wife" is on the right.  No resemblance whatsoever though.

From then on, my wife was a street fighter when it came to my son, and everyone else had one hand tied behind their back.  When I was able to attend the IEP meetings, I was always impressed.  It’s like she was sparring with a bunch of scrubs.  She not only knew our son, but she knew what services were available.  The IEP team was bringing a knife to a gun fight. 

So about that heavy breathing.  While Sarge waxes political only so often, it’s kind of my schtick.  I figured I could pick up a little slack around here since it’s been a while and sarge deserves a break from the heavy lifting.  So where was I going with that street fighter stuff?  Well, sometimes we have to fight for everything we get and it might get a little bloody.  Politics is often a fight, and it can be very tiring, but we have to keep going into the late rounds.  There are plenty of examples of the fight today- gun control, the war on women, abortion, fiscal responsibility.  Whoops, my bad, apparently NO ONE is fighting the fiscal fight.  The rest are being fought in the media, with a narrative being shaped and cultivated without the whole truth.  Look at the push to ban assault weapons.  I know those shootings are tragic, and I’m truly sad and sorry that they happened, but I am sure they won’t be stopped by banning a specific weapon.  Some people want to throw out the tired old trope- “But we have to do something!”  They think that that “something” must include an assault weapons ban.  I have a few problems with that: 

1.  The Constitution

2.  Guns aren’t the problem, culture and mental illness are (along with illegal weps)

3.  Logistics- How’s this going to work?  Will they demand we turn them in, go door to door to confiscate them, or is it just a ban on future sales?  If it’s the first two, see #1 above.  

Confiscation of over 150 million guns from American citizens is about as likely as deporting 20 million illegal aliens.  Presidential Candidate and Texan Robert “Beto” O’Rourke has flip-flopped on his previous position, doubling down on stupid:

At the Democratic-primary debate in Houston last night, Beto O’Rourke formally killed off one of the gun-control movement’s favorite taunts: The famous “Nobody is coming for your guns, wingnut.” Asked bluntly whether he was proposing confiscation, O’Rourke abandoned the disingenuous euphemisms that have hitherto marked his descent into extremism, and confirmed as plainly as can be that he was. “Hell yes,” he said, “we’re going to take your AR-15.”                                                                                                                                                     Source

To be honest, I sort of like his honesty.  It's a breath of fresh air to hear a politician not mince words, and say what they actually think.  I don't like the message at all, and it's political suicide to discount the beliefs of millions of voters, and the rights of all of them, but it's definitely a refreshing change of pace.  And while I appreciate his honesty, it's unconstitutional and it won't stand. 

But that's where the fight comes.  The left doesn't care one bit that what they want is unconstitutional.  The Constitution is supposed to be an institution, a "paragon of virtue" per se that is sacrosanct, that shall not be trifled with, but it is always under attack.  What is right and fair and constitutional is irrelevant if it gets in the left's way to achieving what ever it is that they want.  What is that?  I have no idea.  Chaos and anarchy?  Quite possibly.

We've seen the way they fight through the weaponizing of the IRS.  A former squadron-mate of mine had a very strong social media presence which focused on conservative values and the racism within the democratic party across the decades.  As a black man, he was noticed by people active in conservative politics and in 2011 or so, in the middle of Obama's first term, was asked to consider running for congress.  As soon as he filed paperwork, he was hit with three separate IRS audits.  This is a guy who never made more than $150K in a year and had absolutely nothing in his tax filings to warrant a single audit, much less three.

All over the country, the Pro-life advocate David Daedelin revealed the brutality and greed of Planned Parenthood through some undercover videos.  He was hit with one indictment after another, despite precedent showing that his investigations, like so many others before him, were perfectly legal.  Countless investigations into President Trump and his team, wasting millions of taxpayer dollars, all based on reports they knew were false, also shows the length to which they'll go to advance their agenda and shore up their power base.

Illegal campaign donations, election fraud, partisan FBI officials allowing investigations, audits, indictments, fraud, bogus news stories, etc.  These are all tools of the left to suppress the truth, to subvert their opponents, and maintain political pressure on Trump and suppress the truth.  They'll also use the courts, shopping for sympathetic judges who  order injunctions against his executive orders, or even standing law, as we've seen with the current border immigration/asylum crisis.  Precedent and standing law mean nothing to the left, with everything up for interpretation by liberal courts and judges.

For a party that preaches diversity and tolerance, they aren’t even tolerant to the members of their own party.  Candidate Marianne Williamson was recently caught on a hot mike talking about that-  “What does it say that Fox News is nicer to me than the lefties are?”  What it means is that they want what they want, and won’t stand for anyone or anything getting in their way, to include moderates, and the constitution.

The left doesn't actually care about you and me, whether or not we're their constituents.  They don't care about the constitution, what it means, what it stands for, what it says.  It's all just temporary fungible language that is open to not only constant reinterpretation, but able to be consistently ignored if it goes against what they want at the particular moment.  

My son would not be where he is today if my wife hadn't constantly fought for him.  She was only fighting for what might have been some limited special education resources, but the political fight is to preserve our inherent and God-given rights and freedoms.  Yes, it can be tiring, and those Facebook posts or rebuttals may not result in changing the opinions of the other person, but someone paying attention may be positively influenced.    

You've probably heard the saying- “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

Source

I'm not doing nothing.  It doesn't have to be an aggressive fight, but it must be a consistent one.  The longer truth is suppressed, the more likely that uninformed minds will believe that the conservative values we know to be good and fair and true, are actually greedy, without compassion, and evil.  I fight back by being well informed, calmly discussing my points of view without personal attacks.   Sometimes it works.  Anybody up for a fight?  Who's with me?

Klamath Falls

Yes, we've seen this picture before.  It was taken at the parade field at Lackland AFB Joint Base Lackland.  Be that as it may, it is a monument to the USAF (and its antecedents) recipients of the Medal of Honor.  It was taken a few years ago and hopefully has been amended to include Tech Sergeant John Chapman.  I may have to visit again and check.

But, I was doing some research on a subject that has been rattling around in my brain (Yes, Beans, I know...Not a lot there to cause a rattling noise) since I started writing this series of articles.  A comment by William last week about "...how political  the Medal of Honor is" kinda hit home on that rattling sound.

However, and needless to say, I'm gonna want to step very carefully on that posting.  It may, nay probably, will never see the light of day.

So, we're going to look into another of the names on the above monument.  I think this one is a cut and dried case. No politics involved.

I was reviewing references I'd had on Operation Tidal Wave, the raid on the Ploesti Oil Refineries on 1 August 1943.  I've got postings here, here and here on Medal of Honor recipients from that raid.  5 Medals were awarded, 3 posthumously, the most awarded for a single battle in Air Force History.  Later, I reported another recipient in a later raid on that target.

So, I was searching using "Medal of Honor Ploesti" as the search term and came up with a 7th name. I went back to the above photo and yep, that name is there. 

2LT David R. Kingsley. Lt Kingsley was working as a firefighter in Oregon before Pearl Harbor.  He joined the Army Air Corps in April 1942. Lt Kingsley was qualified as both a Navigator and Bombardier on B-17s completing combat training and deploying to Italy in March of 1944.  Source

Source

His crew and he had completed 20 combat missions by 23 June 1944.  On that day they are scheduled for a sortie with the target being Ploesti.

After releasing their bombs during the attack run, the B-17 was hit by AAA (HISS!!!) and sustained damage to an engine that caused them to lose altitude and slowed them down.  The loss of the other bomber's protection drew the attention of 3 Messerschmidt BF-109s.

During this period, the bomber loses another engine and one of the crew is wounded.  As Lt Kingsley's primary role in this mission is complete, he moves aft to try and assist the wounded crewman.

The fighter's continue their attack, and wound the tail gunner.  As he crawls forward, Lt Kingsley removes the crewman's parachute and wraps him in blankets to keep him comfortable.  Meanwhile, the ball turret gunner is injured also.  Lt Kingsley provides assistance to him also.

Eight more BF-109's join the fight, and the bomber is sustaining more serious damage.  Finally, the Pilot sounds the Bail Out alarm.  Lt Kingsley assists the ball turret gunner back into his chute and gets him out the bomb bay.  He then returns for the tail gunner, however his chute can't be located.

As their searching, the aircraft starts to fly erratically and they both realize that time is running out.

At that point, Lt Kingsley gives the tail gunner his chute, puts the rip cord in his hand, and assists him out of the airplane.

The plane shortly thereafter crashes.  Lt Kingsley is the only crew fatality.

Source

Unfortunately, the bomber hits the ground near a village in Bulgaria and a family of 7 is also killed.

Source

A memorial to the 8 was constructed out of pieces of the wrecked bomber.  After the war, Lt Kingsley's remains were recovered and re-interred at Arlington National Cemetery.

The tail gunner later remarked "David then took me in his arms and struggled to the bomb bay, where he told me to keep my hand on the rip cord and said to pull it when I was clear of the ship…Then he told me to bail out. I watched the ground go by for a few seconds and then I jumped. I looked at Dave the look he had on his face was firm and solemn. He must have known what was coming because there was no fear in his eyes at all. That was the last time I saw....Dave standing in the bomb bay."

John 15:13 

Why the title?  Well there is an airfield at Klamath Falls.  It's named Kingsley field.  It's home to the Oregon Air National Guard and they fly this airplane.

Lt Kingsley's Citation:

"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, 23 June 1944 near Ploesti, Rumania, while flying as bombardier of a B17 type aircraft.

On the bomb run 2d Lt. Kingsley's aircraft was severely damaged by intense flak and forced to drop out of formation but the pilot proceeded over the target and 2d Lt. Kingsley successfully dropped his bombs, causing severe damage to vital installations.

The damaged aircraft, forced to lose altitude and to lag behind the formation, was aggressively attacked by 3 ME-109 aircraft, causing more damage to the aircraft and severely wounding the tail gunner in the upper arm. The radio operator and engineer notified 2d Lt. Kingsley that the tail gunner had been wounded and that assistance was needed to check the bleeding. 2d Lt. Kingsley made his way back to the radio room, skillfully applied first aid to the wound, and succeeded in checking the bleeding. The tail gunner's parachute harness and heavy clothes were removed and he was covered with blankets, making him as comfortable as possible.

Eight ME-109 aircraft again aggressively attacked 2d Lt. Kingsley's aircraft and the ball turret gunner was wounded by 20mm. shell fragments. He went forward to the radio room to have 2d Lt. Kingsley administer first aid.

A few minutes later when the pilot gave the order to prepare to bail out, 2d Lt. Kingsley immediately began to assist the wounded gunners in putting on their parachute harness. In the confusion the tail gunner's harness, believed to have been damaged, could not be located in the bundle of blankets and flying clothes which had been removed from the wounded men.

With utter disregard for his own means of escape, 2d Lt. Kingsley unhesitatingly removed his parachute harness and adjusted it to the wounded tail gunner. Due to the extensive damage caused by the accurate and concentrated 20mm. fire by the enemy aircraft the pilot gave the order to bail out, as it appeared that the aircraft would disintegrate at any moment.

2d Lt. Kingsley aided the wounded men in bailing out and when last seen by the crewmembers he was standing on the bomb bay catwalk. The aircraft continued to fly on automatic pilot for a short distance, then crashed and burned. His body was later found in the wreckage.

2d Lt. Kingsley by his gallant heroic action was directly responsible for saving the life of the wounded gunner. 

Rest in Peace, Warrior!

In a Bit of a Black Mood

Storm on the Sea
Johannes Christiaan Schotel

All the news of political maneuvers by divers and idiot wannabe statesmen (and at least two women) have left me in no fit state for polite company. I've written of the "coming storm" before, at least twice, maybe more. Searching through my old political posts gets depressing fast.

So here we go, one from 2013, one from 2016. What, I ask you in all sincerity, has changed?

Gathering Storm
Georges Michel

And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. (Matthew 24:6)

What is going on in this country? The Constitution is either the law of the land, or it is not. If it is not, then we are no longer living in the United States of America. If that be the case, then the current civilian leadership in Washington D.C. and the military leadership of the Armed Forces have decided to set aside their oaths of office and govern by fiat. Can the use of armed force to enforce the will of the current political regime be far behind?

A while back I was doing some research regarding the oaths sworn by both officers and enlisted upon entry into the Armed Forces of the United States. Well, I have been doing some further research on this topic and found something interesting, to wit:

One notable difference between the officer and enlisted oaths is that the oath taken by officers does not include any provision to obey orders; while enlisted personnel are bound by the Uniform Code of Military Justice to obey lawful orders, officers in the service of the United States are bound by this oath to disobey any order that violates the Constitution of the United States.

Before going any further, let's take a look at the oaths. Here is the officer oath:

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

And the enlisted oath:

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.

Note that in both instances, the "So help me God" portion of the oath may be omitted for persons who desire to affirm rather than to swear to the oath. Yes, I have a bit of heartburn with that bit but Article Six of the United States Constitution states:

This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.

The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.

The underlined bit being that which relates to the phrase "So help me God".

So those are the oaths sworn by the members of the Armed Forces of the United States. The President, Vice President, members of Congress and federal judges also swear oaths. All of which make reference to the Constitution.

The President:

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.

The others:

I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. [So help me God.]

Now as regards the current President, he may actually not be in violation of his sworn oath. I say this because the oath does state "to the best of my Ability". It's quite possible that he is doing the best he can. It's possible that he's just not that capable and the office of the President is beyond his competence. If so, then the electorate is at fault for electing an incompetent to the office.

Now the oath as taken by members of Congress, the judiciary and the Vice President doesn't cut them any slack as regards "ability". Their oath states "I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office". My guess would be that if they are unable to do that, then they should step down.

Now all of that aside, there seems to be a hue and cry in this country for a "conversation" regarding firearms. Exactly which part of the 2nd Amendment don't these clowns understand? It's right up there in my header, "the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed". No "conversation" is necessary, we have the right to keep and bear arms. The government is specifically prohibited from infringing upon that right.

The 2nd Amendment does not specify the type of arms. Various legislative acts and court decisions down through the years which have prohibited citizens from bearing certain types of arms are unconstitutional. The Supreme Court does make mistakes and has since the country was founded. I need only refer to the Dred Scott Decision.

From Wikipedia:

Dred Scott (1795 – September 17, 1858), was an African-American slave in the United States who unsuccessfully sued for his freedom and that of his wife and their two daughters in the Dred Scott v. Sandford case of 1857, popularly known as "the Dred Scott Decision." The case was based on the fact that although he and his wife Harriet Scott were slaves, they had lived with his master Dr. John Emerson in states and territories where slavery was illegal according to both state laws and the Northwest Ordinance of 1787, including Illinois and Minnesota (which was then part of the Wisconsin Territory). The United States Supreme Court decided 7–2 against Scott, finding that neither he nor any other person of African ancestry could claim citizenship in the United States, and therefore Scott could not bring suit in federal court under diversity of citizenship rules. Moreover, Scott's temporary residence outside Missouri did not bring about his emancipation under the Missouri Compromise, which the court ruled unconstitutional as it would improperly deprive Scott's owner of his legal property.

While Chief Justice Roger B. Taney had hoped to settle issues related to slavery and Congressional authority by this decision, it aroused public outrage and deepened sectional tensions between the northern and southern U.S. states. President Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation in 1863, and the post-Civil war Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth amendments nullified the decision.

So the Supreme Court made a mistake, they are, after all, human. Any decision made by the Court which infringes at all upon our 2nd Amendment rights is unconstitutional, period, full stop. One does not need a law degree to figure out the Bill of Rights. One just needs to be able to read and comprehend English.

The way I see it, the President, the Vice President and a large number of congress-critters are in violation of their oath of office and should either correct that behavior or resign their office. Any officer in the US Armed Forces who supports the infringement of the 2nd Amendment needs to reconsider that stance or resign their commissions. They are morally and legally bound to do so.

Enlisted soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines and coast guardsmen need to understand that any order or orders which may cause them to infringe upon the rights conveyed by the 2nd Amendment are illegal orders and should not be obeyed.

Why are Progressive Elements in this country so intent upon dismantling the Constitution, or at least the parts they don't agree with? Because they think they know what's best for the rest of us.

Beware America. Once your 2nd Amendment rights are taken away, the rest won't be far behind.

Say goodbye to freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of worship, freedom to petition the government for redress of grievances, freedom to peaceably assemble, in short, say goodbye to the United States. You might as well learn how to speak Chinese. You'll need it when the new rulers take over.

(Source)

You know the feeling. It's a pleasant summer day, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, but there's something in the air. Something causes the hair on the back of your neck to tingle. Though we are far from our primitive roots, there are still things which cause our hackles to rise.

If we live in a place where the horizon is far away, where the vistas are sprawling and vast, you might eventually notice the clouds on the far horizon are gathering. If you are out where the noise pollution of civilization is minimal, you might hear, at some level of your consciousness, the deep rumble of thunder.

Something is out there. Will it come this way?

Soon the sky darkens further, wisps of the storm are cast ahead of it, like cavalry scouts probing ahead. Lightning can be seen, sharp bolts against the black, what once was blue sky short moments before.

There are days when the wind shifts, the storm dissipates, or carried by the wind it moves away, to trouble some other land. But then there are the days where the wind rises, you can smell the wetness of the precipitation not yet reaching the ground. You can smell, almost taste, the ozone as the clouds discharge the lightning.

Then, almost before you can react, the storm is upon you. If shelter is close, you rush for it, if not, you cast about for some safe place. You know you are going to get wet, then a blinding flash and a near simultaneous crack. You seek the low ground, trying to maintain a low profile. Atavistic instinct takes over, you are now more animal than human. All your rational thought flees, you are unprepared, you are caught in the open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The storm has already broken out over Europe, floods of "immigrants" make their way into the citadels of learning and culture, changing all they touch. They clamor for their "rights," they demand change, they demand adherence to their archaic, medieval doctrines. There is no escaping them, the guardians of the West have dropped their guard, they have unmanned the watchtowers. Though told this would happen, they did not listen.

For they are the great elite. They know better, they went to the right schools, they have the right friends, they believe the right things. They say to themselves, if only we understood them better, if only we try harder to accommodate their desires, their demands.

My friend the Cap'n has written of this concern. As he has many times. I'm not sure if I have lost my faith in the West yet, though as the elections loom, that faith in civilization is wavering.

I feel like a sergeant in the rear ranks, trying to get the troops to maintain their alignment, their order. Yet somewhere over my shoulder, I hear a rumbling, a dull thumping in the air. Is that a storm, is that artillery? To whom to those cannon belong? Are they ours, or do they signal the approach of some foe?

I know not. 

Yeats seems appropriate. Something is definitely coming. I can feel it in my bones...

THE SECOND COMING

William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? 

(Source)

* With apologies to Ray Bradbury.

As the French are wont to say, "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose."

Or as Yogi Berra would say, it's déjà-vu, all over again...

Sigh...

Beer Steins and Precious Moments

Two collections, one is mine, one is not mine. Which belongs to which human at Chez Sarge?

Hint, one belongs to the human who likes beer way too much. The other belongs to the reigning queen of my little corner of the planet.

That's right, the beer steins are mine, except for the one on the top shelf, all the way left, that one belongs to The Naviguessor. The other stein on the top shelf is from Geilenkirchen and my tour in NATO, so is the one with the aircraft on top on the lower shelf. Lower middle came from Innsbruck, in Austria of course. The one to the far right (nothing political intended, you in the back, just sit down), with the foxes on top and the stag on the side, was my first stein, a gift from The Naviguesser one fine Christmas in Germany.

When The Missus Herself started collecting the figurines I was all like, "Wonderful, knick-knacks, how long will those last with a cat in the house?" Which later became two cats.

So far of all her Precious Moments figurines, only one crashed and burned, and it wasn't the feline staff who sent it crashing to the ground. Nope, wasn't me either.

The Missus Herself set it too close to the edge on one of those shelves, a moment's inattention, a brush of a sleeve, and AHHHHHHHHHH. CRASH!!!

Even I found it somewhat upsetting, hey, I have a sensitive side, I try to hide it by saying fire truck all the time. Well, something shorter but which rhymes with that second word.

I admit it, I am something of a barbarian at times.

The folks at work on Thursday remarked that my language would make Samuel L. Jackson blush. Yeah, I doubt it but I was a bit coarse on the last work day of the week. Tired, cranky, and finally having a run of success when we'd been struggling to get stuff done on a recalcitrant system all week.

Finally stuff worked. Fire truck yeah! Or words to that effect,

The Missus Herself keeps wondering if I will ever grow up.

"You're almost seventy, why do you have to talk like that?"

Almost seventy? Nope, not there yet though it is in hailing distance.

Grow up? Why, consider me a very responsible 12 year old. Who is overweight, gray, and balding. Okay, that's a lie. Bald, I am freaking bald, hence the ball cap I have been known to wear damned near everywhere. Except in restaurants, church, and at home.

That's me, with the ball cap. In a pub (Murphy's in Alexandria, VA). Yes, I took it off once I sat down. I'm not a total barbarian.
(Mike McDaniel Photo)

By the way, that visit to Murphy's was indeed a precious moment. Meeting old friends, making new friends. Though beer was involved, steins weren't.

Busy day yesterday, running errands and the like. Accomplished two missions for The Missus Herself and did a side trip to Barnes & Noble pour moi. Picked up these three -

Decided to start with Mr. Atkinson's latest, big fan of his if you remember this. Started reading at dinner (leftover meatloaf, can't get enough of that) and was hooked on the first page. Mr. Atkinson brings history alive, you can picture the places and people he describes as if you were there. Good stuff.

Anyhoo, that was my day, how was yours?

Yes, yes, a couple of chatty, gossipy posts after a couple of heavy duty posts. The political stuff leaves me gasping for fresh air, it's like visiting a fetid swamp writing about that stuff. Ah well, you get what you pay for, neh?