Honor Flight

As you may have noticed, I've added a link to www.honorflight.org over on the right. It comes courtesy of my friend Wayne in the VBOB group. Wayne recently returned from an all expenses paid trip to see the WWII Memorial in Washington D.C. It was paid for by Honor Flight; and Wayne, in his email to me, was prolific in his praise of them as well as the memorial. I am eagerly looking forward to our next meeting so that I can hear all about it as well as engage in the give and take that is so essential among friends.

Folks, we owe these vets a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid; and by some estimates they are dying at a rate of 900 per day. Honor Flight is aptly named. They are doing what they can to honor them for their service. I urge you to click on the link if you have a relative however far removed who would like to see the memorial. The WWII Memorial also has a website at www.wwiimemorial.com It's very much worth checking out. You won't be disappointed.

For now, good night.

Teaching history

I have fond memories of the advanced placement history course I took in high school, not least because I earned 4 college credit hours by taking the AP history test. Beyond that, the class taught me to think critically and thus to write well. This blog at http://civilwarmemory.typepad.com details the struggles, triumphs, and research of a high school history teacher. I read it regularly and urge you to do the same.
For now, good night.

VBOB

Went to the Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge meeting here in Iowa last week. It was really kind of sad. There were about a half dozen vets there. The rest of the group consisted of wives and what one vet described as second generation members which numbered all of three, one of whom lives in Wisconsin. At the end of the meeting that same vet told my buddy Doug and I that everyone in the group, including us, needed to attract more second and third generation members so that the group doesn't die as the members become unable to attend for whatever reason. So this is a general shout out. Do you know anyone here in Iowa who fought in the Battle of the Bulge or whose parent or grandparent did? If so, I hope you'll respond here; and I'll get back to you.

My friend Wayne was unable to attend, but I forgive him . Thanks to www.honorflight.org he was on an all expenses paid flight to Washington D.C. to see the WWII memorial. I've added Honor Flight to my blog roll. Very much worth a look.

Again, do you know anyone in Iowa who might be interested in joining a VBOB group? If so, please post here. I promise to follow up.

For now, good night.
John

Blog roll

As you may have noticed, that is if anyone is actually reading this, I've added a couple of blogs over on the right side of my blog. The first, "somewhere on the masthead" comes to us from Magazine Man. I've been reading his blog for a couple of years now. He is consistently funny and often thought provoking. I would be a happy man if I could write half as well as he does.

The second comes from "disappearing john" who works as a Registered Nurse in an emergency room. If you want to learn about what it's like to work in health care, John's blog is a good start. He also provide links to many other good nursing blogs. Check it out.

Finally ... oh geez I really need to work on not making my writing sound like a term paper ... I thought I'd clue you in to how my fascination with history began.

My parents always encouraged me to read, but until 6th grade it was mostly fiction. Then Mrs. Halleck, my 6th grade social studies teacher, gave us an assignment to debate who was the better general: Grant or Lee?That sent me straight to the library, and there I discovered the joy of reading and researching history. My opponent's thesis was that Grant was a drunk. My response was that there is some question about that, but the bottom line was, who won the war?
A bit simplistic? Sure, but that's the way an 11 year old mind works. That spark, lit by Mrs. Halleck grew to an unquenchable fire; and the only way to keep the fire in check was to read all the history I could get my hands on. That quest continues to this day. So God bless you Mrs. Halleck. I am forever in your debt.

Enough for now. Good Night.

Addendum: In a shameless bit of self promotion I've added a link to my personal web page dedicated to the veterans of the Battle of the Bulge. I started it about four years ago when a good friend took me to a Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge (VBOB) meeting. His dad fought in that WWII battle, the largest ever fought by U.S. land forces, and regaled his son with more stories of that horrible but necessary war than a still maturing boy should probably hear.

On the other hand, my dad fought in the Pacific navy aboard the USS San Francisco but refused to say anything else about it. My friend knew that I was eager to meet some vets, not out of any morbid desire to hear about death, maiming, and other carnage; but rather out of the need to hear their experiences and how they affected them, something my dad never talked about.

That first meeting was a revelation. My dad died before he was 50. I only wish he had lived long enough to tell his stories in the same calm tone as the vets I met that day. I'm proud to count a few of them as friends, and I encourage you to visit the site. For now, good night.

Understaffed and overworked

There's an old joke about a nurse who is retiring. "What?", she's asked. "Are yo tired of doing the job of two people?"

It doesn't seem so funny to me now. My unit is now so understaffed that we have only 45% of the nurses, techs, and unit secretaries required to properly care for our average daily census of 21 patients. We have been averaging 25-30 patients. As a result, the entire staff has been working both voluntary and mandatory overtime. There's been a lot of discussion on the web about nursing unions, notably at http://disappearingjohn.blogspot.com, but I feel sure that if my hospital were unionized this problem would not be occurring. Not all nursing staff are so fortunate as to have an administration who truly care about them as John seems to. The rest of us are left at the mercy of hospitals who care more about the almighty dollar, whether they be for profit or not for profit, than they do about patient safety or staff recruitment and retention. That's enough. For now, good night.

Cabin fever

This is an oh so tired subject, but this has been the snowiest and coldest winter here in over a decade. I have cabin fever!

I want the spring rains to come and to splash in the puddles like I did when I was a kid. I want to feel the warm sun on my face as the grass turns green, the trees leaf out, and the flowers bloom. I want to bask in the sunshine, go swimming outside, and fish on the river bank. I want to get outside!

I enjoy the change of seasons, but enough is enough.

For now, good night.

VBOB meeting

Christmas is past, and my writer's block is finally gone. So here are my impressions from the last Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge meeting that my buddy Doug and I attended last month.

First, in answer to my question about the value they placed on tactics as opposed to strategy, the vast majority of the vets I talked to responded in the following vein. They weren't concerned about the big picture. Mostly what they cared about was themselves, their fox hole buddy, and their unit. Sound tactics kept them safe, or at least as safe as it's possible to be in the midst of a battle. It was only when they went on leave or after the war that they learned of and criticized the grand strategy. I have learned from these vets and my reading that soldiers complain. They always have, and they always will at least among themselves. They feel it's their right, earned by dint of their submission to discipline and hardship that is absent from civilian life. I couldn't agree more.

Second, the speaker was a copilot on a bombing run who was shot down and taken prisoner by the Germans. He was excellent and was the third speaker we've had who was a POW, one from the Pacific and two from Europe. Their stories were all different. Yet they contained common elements. To paraphrase a short essay by Bill Hall, an ex-POW in Europe:

"The POW experiences hunger, cold (or heat), fear, anger and deep depression that the rest of us can never imagine."

The ex-POW can show you a loaf of bread made mostly from sawdust which at times was his only sustenance, and you are horrified as I was when my friend showed me one that he brought home from the war. But you and I can never really understand what the POW's went through. We weren't there, and thank God for that.

Finally, the members of the group voted to cut the number of meetings per year from four to two. I understand their reasons, but it still makes me sad. I enjoy these meetings immensely. They're not all about sad stories. They're also about seeing these people who have become friends, good conversation, and laughter. Sorry to end on such a sad note, but that's all there is to say. Good night.

Merry Christmas!

I've finally gotten over my writer's block, and I wanted to take this opportunity to wish everyone a very merry Christmas as in celebrating the birth of Christ. Yes, I am a Christian and humbled to be one by the grace of God. What I am not is a fundamentalist or even a conservative. In fact I am a liberal. While I can't quote chapter and verse, I can quote a couple of my favorite Bible passages from the New Testament as attributed to Christ.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

"As you do to the least of these, so you do to me."

What better expression of the liberal philosophy could you find? I have no intention of starting a political or theological argument here. This is simply my belief and my faith that compel me to follow, as best as I am able, in the footsteps of Jesus. That is one thing that I think all Christians, regardless of their political leanings, can agree on.

Again, I wish you all a blessed and merry Christmas. For now, good night.

Writer's block

Well, this is new. I seem to suffering from writer's block except in responding to writing that touches me personally. I know what I want to write here. I just can't think how to write it. Want to see more of my writing? Post a comment that will compel me to respond. Otherwise I'll be back when I get over this frustrating malady.

Good night.

VBOB upcoming

The next VBOB meeting is this coming Tuesday. I'm looking forward to it, as always, with a sense of anticipation. The subject of the meeting is always a mystery until I get in the car with my buddy Doug. We spend the trip down speculating on how good the speaker will be, which of our old friends (both literally and figuratively) will be there, what we'll have for lunch, and how many books we'd buy at the excellent Borders book store if we could afford it. We also talk at length about work and about our mutual passion for history. Sound mundane? Well sure, maybe to you. But for me it's a highlight. What could be better on a two hour car trip than to spend it talking about the things you care most about?

One question I want to ask at the meeting arises from the book I'm currently reading: "Brothers in Battle - Best of Friends" by William "Wild Bill"Guarnere and and Edward "Babe" Heffron. They both fought in the Battle of the Bulge and the legendary defense of Bastogne. I'm only about half way through the book, but what I'm taking from it so far is this. These two guys, who were the very definition of "grunts", didn't really care about the grand strategy of Eisenhower, Montgomery, or the other Generals. They cared about tactics as laid out by their company commanders and carried out by them in the field because it was tactics that kept them and their buddies alive. I am eagerly awaiting their answers and will post them after I return from the meeting.

I am fascinated by these sorts of historical questions. Another time, I'll tell you how it all started.

For now, although it's early evening here, good night.

Happy 108th to Olive Reilly!

Just a short post to wish a Happy 108th! birthday to the oldest blogger on the web, Olive Reilly. Please click on over to www.allaboutolive.com.au and do the same. I think you'll find her blog as captivating as I do. In fact, I'm going to her blog to wish her happy 108 right now. 108 years old? I just can't imagine it.

For now, good night.

More on VBOB

As promised, although delayed because it's been busy as hell at work, here is more about the most recent VBOB meeting. At the conclusion of the meeting we were invited to the local military history museum. Of course my buddy Doug and I jumped at the chance. For me, the most affecting display was the military weapons room. There I saw the exact Japanese rifle my dad had hanging on the wall of our basement right down to the bolt action, the pop up gun sight, and the gun stock. I was both glad and sad to see it. Glad because it was just as I remembered it although my dad refused to give any but the barest details of his service in the Pacific. Sad because my dad didn't live long enough to open up at least a little about his experiences. But the museum is much more than that. It chronicles the history of our local troops from the Spanish American War through the current wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. As Doug said, "It's like a mini Smithsonian!" I could not agree more.

If you are fortunate enough to have a museum such as this in your area, I encourage yo to go. It's an experience you won't forget. For now ... good night.

The latest Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge meeting

My buddy Doug and I went to the VBOB meeting about a week ago. It was a short but fascinating one. First, our friend John was shot five times before he was captured in the first days of the battle. Three bullets went through his side. A fourth bullet went into his left shirt pocket lodging in his copy of the New Testament which he kept there, saving him from a grievous chest wound. The fifth bullet struck his left arm tearing the muscle from the bone, and he has the scar to prove it.

As further proof, he held up the uniform shirt he was wearing when he was captured. Each bullet hole was distinctly visible, and the left sleeve was cut off where German doctors had attempted to reattach his bicep to the bone and actually succeeded. John was captured in December and wore that shirt until he was liberated the following April.

The ironic thing is that John's uniform shirt was supposed to have been burned when he and his comrades were liberated and before they were deloused. He got it home somehow and didn't even realize he had it until his wife was cleaning recently and found it in a closet. We all forget things of course, but imagine being so overwhelmed by the course of events that you forget where you put your clothes?

War is ugly. War is violent. Any vet will tell you that if you can gain his or her confidence. War is also sometimes necessary, although not always. They'll tell you that too.

More to follow about the meeting, but for now good night.

A wonderful book

Recently finished reading "Dancing with Rose: finding life in the land of alzheimer's" by Lauren Kessler. She is a professional journalist who lost her own mother to Alzheimer's and even years later is mortified at how she failed to relate to her mother in the last years of her life. And so she goes to work as a minimum wage aide in an Alzheimer's care facility, not to write a sensational tell all book but to relate the day to day struggles of the aides and the residents and perhaps most of all to atone for what she sees as her own failure with her mom. I think she succeeded brilliantly on all three counts. She doesn't pull any punches about the working conditions or the lack of decent pay or benefits. Neither does she mince words about how stressful the job can be. On the other hand, she is entirely open about how attached she becomes to some of the residents and how heartbroken she is when a couple of them die.

I worked in a nursing home for 3 years before moving on to my present job in a hospital with much better pay, security, and benefits. My favorite residents back then were those who related to me on an intellectual level or those I related to on some deep emotional level. For example, there was a lady none of the other aides liked to take care of. She was combative and had a tendency to grab and pinch. Everyone called her Grandma , and I adopted the nickname. Eventually she came to recognize my voice and calmed down enough at least to be fed and showered and put to bed. Of course, one day the inevitable came. She lay dying, and I went into her room before going off evening shift. I stroked her hair and said, "Good night Grandma. Good night." I just about jumped out of my skin when I heard a voice behind me say, "Thanks for taking care of my mom." This from a man I'd never seen come to visit her. At that point, I felt more like a grandson to her than he'd been a son, and managing to mumble a you're welcome I rushed out of the room. When I came to work the next day her room was empty. Why do I remember this so vividly, and why does it make me feel sad to this day?

"Dancing with Rose" explains it more eloquently than I ever could. Buy it, borrow it from the library, or swap for it. I simply cannot recommend it highly enough.

Good night.

Welcome to The Vincent van Gogh Gallery

Just saw a program about Vincent van Gogh on PBS. He is my favorite painter ever. When I look at his landscapes they draw me in. I somehow feel as if I'm living there. In the case of his self portraits, as crazy as it sounds, I feel as if I'm living inside his head. The following link provides lots of info on his life, forums, wallpaper downloads, and more. If you're not familiar with Van Gogh I strongly encourage you to click. You'll discover a painter who engages your emotions in a way few other painters do. If you are familiar with him I also encourage you to click. You'll rediscover, as I did, why you love Van Gogh's art. For now I'll say good night.
Welcome to The Vincent van Gogh Gallery

Father's Day

Today is Father's Day. My dad died when I was 19, still deep in my rebellious stage. As a result, our relationship was somewhat strained. The man who called me JT when I was young will always be somewhat of an enigma to me because of his untimely passing. I do like to think that he would be pleased that I straightened my life out after he died and achieved much, if not all, that he wished for me. I also like to think that if he had lived to a ripe old age (he'd be 82 this year) we would have developed a mutual respect and the father son relationship that never came to be because I was a dumb ass rebel who thought he knew everything. I miss my dad and have been thinking of him today.

If your dad is still living, I hope you will give him what he wants most: unconditional love. Happy Father's Day! Good night.

Seabiscuit revisited

Just finished rereading "Seabiscuit" by Laura Hillenbrand. While the movie captures the heart of Seabiscuit's story, it doesn't tell it all. For that, you need to read her painstakingly researched and wonderfully written book. As she said in the interview reprinted at the end of the book, her aim was to write a nonfiction book that read like a novel. At that she succeeded brilliantly. I won't ruin it by providing details, but I can't recommend the book highly enough. Good night.

Battle of the Bulge Veterans, Home

In keeping with my posts about VBOB and Memorial Day, this is my personal web site about the veterans of the Battle of the Bulge. It may seem like shameless self promotion, but I beg to differ.

I started the site after the first VBOB meeting I went to with my buddy Doug. While I don't update the site as often as I should, it's been a pleasure to maintain ever since. I encourage you to explore all the links and make whatever comments you desire.
Battle of the Bulge Veterans, Home

Good night.

BBC NEWS | Programmes | Happiness Formula

This is a very interesting site about the science of happiness. Am I happy? According to the quiz I am, and I have to agree. But there's lots of other fascinating stuff here, including articles, videos, and more. Enjoy it at your pleasure (pun intended). More later.
BBC NEWS | Programmes | Happiness Formula

Memorial Day

Today is Memorial Day. To quote my friend Wayne who was a staff sergeant, i.e. a squad leader, "All I did was survive when others didn't. The ones left with the most combat experience got to be put in the leadership positions even if we didn't really like that responsibility. It really hurt when your orders got someone hurt or killed."

The above quote is from an email Wayne sent to me and makes me stop and think. He didn't want the rank. It was thrust upon him because one or more of his buddies had died. Think about your own job. Do you want a promotion or a raise? Sure, we all do. But would you want that to come about because someone had died? I don't think so. On this Memorial Day I hope you've been remembering those who served and those who are serving today.

Good night.