It's one of those double-edged things that we usually neglect to see in life whether it's people or events; the element that makes someone or something great frequently makes it tinged with negativity.
As Obadiah Stane said of Tony Stark in the first Iron Man movie: "You know the great thing about Tony is also the worst thing about Tony---he's always working..."
Donald Trump may be great at making millions, but with that ability comes a package of traits most would, or at least should, not want to be around or emulate too much. Greed isn't good, Mr. Gecko.
But this idea of the mixed bag relates to this weekend and Memorial Day. Seems every chance a citizen of planet Earth gets he parties, especially on holidays, holiday weekends and those events related to holidays or holiday weekends.
Now I'm not suggesting that we all drag our knuckles around raw in melancholy solemnity 24/7 every chance we get. Being negative, woeful and sad isn't healthy and in this case of Memorial Day it insults those who paid the ultimate price so we can be happy in embracing our freedom to do whatever we want to do in life (or at least try to).
So the point is this: what's great about America is also at times the worst because our millions of citizens find it too easy to ignore or barely give notice to taking time to genuinely remember and thank God for those who gave their lives for us. For so many of us it's all too easy to go and buy flag-smacked cookies & cupcakes, have a giant glutenous BBQ, guzzle down as many beer and soda specials as we can, and treat this as just another long weekend to stock up on the self-indulgence of freedom most of us had little to do with sacrificing to attain.
I'm not asking you to feel guilty as all get-out and cry your eyes out this weekend. But I am asking you to stop and do two things:
-pray to God and thank Him that you are a citizen of this country and to realize how much worse-off you could be elsewhere (let's just say Yemen, Iraq, Iran, China, Syria)
-think about the name of this weekend and why it's called Memorial Day Weekend
I repeat let's enjoy it; let's have a BBQ or a get-together, or not, and just enjoy finding solice with our significant others, or just our families, or watching baseball, or one of the races running this weekend, or whatever it is you get a charge out of doing in life---just do it. Those that sacrificed their lives (and those vets that have passed on since their service time) would appreciate that, and most would do the same if they were still alive. But let's observe, even privately if need be, what a gigantic blessing we have to be a citizen in a freedom-wrought, peaceful country as this, and why.
You veterans, all the way from the 1770's to now and beyond, our thanks, and you indeed deserve at the very least, this Memorial Day Weekend in your honor.
Peace.
Tim
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
Churchill...He Made England Matter
So much has rightly been made of Winston Churchill's other-worldly, charismatic oratory talents, during World War II in particular. His parliamentary and radio speeches brought supporters, foes and Britain's citizenry alike to their collective feet at a time when sitting idly would've spelled the end of what was left of western European democracy. An English domino falling to the German bulldozer of war would no doubt have splashed across the ocean tipping America to eventually fend for its own self, sans Allied support, with no future strategic points to strike from within Britain in a future European war theatre.
Churchill's bolstering words of motivation and calls to arms sent men and women across Great Britain to share his deep belief that they as Englishmen were privileged to be in this life and country-threatening spot. From May 1940 through the early months of 1942, from the young to the elderly, Brits across The Isle hung on WSC's words ready to defend their shores, cities, farms and countrysides from German attack, or, as was thought possible by most in those years, outright invasion.
Winston may have seemed "movie-dramatic" with his public, and private, orations. With astounding detail and recall he often quoted poetry and passages from great works that dovetailed with whatever the present subject-matter as he mingled or sat with generals, heads-of-state or his staff. But this was the real Winston. When we observe his speeches we know it's not some peppered and salted-up act.
From his "Finest Hour" speech we see:
"...if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science."
Sitting in the House of Commons or in your home in London listening to the radio you remembered a line like that because his point, as much as his choice of words left you the Englander with no doubt about the consequences of failure to act, and to understand how difficult victory would be to reach. He was the great seamstress of writing the words and orator of delivering them.
Yet in Churchill's genius and delivery, like no one who's spoken since, he follows the above with this which so many of us are familiar:
"Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour.""
Sends chills for me now. Makes me want to get up and go do something important right away.
His influence and crucial placement as Prime Minster in the early 1940's cannot be underestimated. When so many, not only Chamberlain, were ready to offer a brokered peace with Hitler, it was Churchill who lead the way to say, "No, we stand and fight, win or fail", utilizing his speeches as arguably the #1 weapon in his arsenal.
Now, I understand what heads-of-state do, especially when addressing their citizens and the world; they have to put a spin on events and circumstances. That involves some stretching of truths and/or appeasing certain factions to ensure everyone doesn't, and won't, take their eyes of the ball. Especially early on, whether when England attempted to assist France with keeping the Blitzkrieg at bay, or when spinning to his people how wondrous an ally Stalin was, Churchill had to present a picture of progress and moving in the direction of victory. It would be a little mundane in this space to give examples of this but suffice to say he usually but a convincing spin on the few positives which came out of the jaws of defeat.
Still, when we read his public offerings on early war events, events that presented little to no wins for the British people to grab onto, who can doubt this PM's straight-talk and honesty, for instance about the massive rescue of thousands of British troops from Dunkirk in June, 1940?
"We must be very careful not to assign to this deliverance the attributes of a victory. Wars are not won by evacuations."
So he he maintained the call to fight. Later in this same speech he gave his parliament & people, and posterity, a little-known gem when extolling the opportunity for England's young men to shine in battle for their island home:
"The Knights of the Round Table, the Crusaders, all fall back into the past-not only distant but prosaic; these young men, going forth every morn to guard their native land and all that we stand for, holding in their hands these instruments of colossal and shattering power, of whom it may be said that
Every morn brought forth a noble chance
And every chance brought forth a noble knight,
deserve our gratitude, as do all the brave men who, in so many ways and on so many occasions, are ready, and continue ready to give life and all for their native land."
This speech was aptly named "We Shall Fight On". If I had to pluck a few words out of it along with any of his speeches from that period, I think his core message was they'd fight "if necessary for years, if necessary alone". But maybe that's not enough.
Thus, I'd have to couple that with the most well-known quote from this speech:
"...we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender..."
Without his fervor, loyalty, daring, willingness to fight and oratory, England would not have been held with much esteem throughout the world. They would've been defined as a collection of lazy aristocracy hoarding over their "lower" classes still too frought with the wrongful ideals of empire and commonwealth. The way Germany was rolling over most every square foot of Europe like a dastardly amoeba, the rest of the world, outside Japan & Italy, sat and waited for the English to fall. Yet Churchill was there to pick up and shake his people and spur them into a game-changing fight which lead to victory in The Battle of Britain.
But his influence and reach went beyond that---we'll cover that in another post soon...
Peace.
Churchill's bolstering words of motivation and calls to arms sent men and women across Great Britain to share his deep belief that they as Englishmen were privileged to be in this life and country-threatening spot. From May 1940 through the early months of 1942, from the young to the elderly, Brits across The Isle hung on WSC's words ready to defend their shores, cities, farms and countrysides from German attack, or, as was thought possible by most in those years, outright invasion.
Winston may have seemed "movie-dramatic" with his public, and private, orations. With astounding detail and recall he often quoted poetry and passages from great works that dovetailed with whatever the present subject-matter as he mingled or sat with generals, heads-of-state or his staff. But this was the real Winston. When we observe his speeches we know it's not some peppered and salted-up act.
From his "Finest Hour" speech we see:
"...if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science."
Sitting in the House of Commons or in your home in London listening to the radio you remembered a line like that because his point, as much as his choice of words left you the Englander with no doubt about the consequences of failure to act, and to understand how difficult victory would be to reach. He was the great seamstress of writing the words and orator of delivering them.
Yet in Churchill's genius and delivery, like no one who's spoken since, he follows the above with this which so many of us are familiar:
"Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour.""
Sends chills for me now. Makes me want to get up and go do something important right away.
His influence and crucial placement as Prime Minster in the early 1940's cannot be underestimated. When so many, not only Chamberlain, were ready to offer a brokered peace with Hitler, it was Churchill who lead the way to say, "No, we stand and fight, win or fail", utilizing his speeches as arguably the #1 weapon in his arsenal.
Now, I understand what heads-of-state do, especially when addressing their citizens and the world; they have to put a spin on events and circumstances. That involves some stretching of truths and/or appeasing certain factions to ensure everyone doesn't, and won't, take their eyes of the ball. Especially early on, whether when England attempted to assist France with keeping the Blitzkrieg at bay, or when spinning to his people how wondrous an ally Stalin was, Churchill had to present a picture of progress and moving in the direction of victory. It would be a little mundane in this space to give examples of this but suffice to say he usually but a convincing spin on the few positives which came out of the jaws of defeat.
Still, when we read his public offerings on early war events, events that presented little to no wins for the British people to grab onto, who can doubt this PM's straight-talk and honesty, for instance about the massive rescue of thousands of British troops from Dunkirk in June, 1940?
"We must be very careful not to assign to this deliverance the attributes of a victory. Wars are not won by evacuations."
So he he maintained the call to fight. Later in this same speech he gave his parliament & people, and posterity, a little-known gem when extolling the opportunity for England's young men to shine in battle for their island home:
"The Knights of the Round Table, the Crusaders, all fall back into the past-not only distant but prosaic; these young men, going forth every morn to guard their native land and all that we stand for, holding in their hands these instruments of colossal and shattering power, of whom it may be said that
Every morn brought forth a noble chance
And every chance brought forth a noble knight,
deserve our gratitude, as do all the brave men who, in so many ways and on so many occasions, are ready, and continue ready to give life and all for their native land."
This speech was aptly named "We Shall Fight On". If I had to pluck a few words out of it along with any of his speeches from that period, I think his core message was they'd fight "if necessary for years, if necessary alone". But maybe that's not enough.
Thus, I'd have to couple that with the most well-known quote from this speech:
"...we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender..."
Without his fervor, loyalty, daring, willingness to fight and oratory, England would not have been held with much esteem throughout the world. They would've been defined as a collection of lazy aristocracy hoarding over their "lower" classes still too frought with the wrongful ideals of empire and commonwealth. The way Germany was rolling over most every square foot of Europe like a dastardly amoeba, the rest of the world, outside Japan & Italy, sat and waited for the English to fall. Yet Churchill was there to pick up and shake his people and spur them into a game-changing fight which lead to victory in The Battle of Britain.
But his influence and reach went beyond that---we'll cover that in another post soon...
Peace.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Come on in!
Just a quick word to say please join my blog as a Follower. We'd love to have you aboard!
Any thoughts you have, stories, pictures, insights, responses to my posts, whatever it is, please be a part of this history blog. Let's make it an intriguing and interesting site.
Thanks and looking forward to your input!
Tim
Any thoughts you have, stories, pictures, insights, responses to my posts, whatever it is, please be a part of this history blog. Let's make it an intriguing and interesting site.
Thanks and looking forward to your input!
Tim
Monday, May 16, 2011
Well then...
The technical issue has been resolved so he story is well below on the Fokker Dr.1 if you're wondering...new post soon. Thanks!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Technical issue on my blog...
I'd written a post about the Fokker Dr.1 Tri-Plane a couple days ago and for some reason it went poof...I'm investigating it...it began as the below. If I can't retrieve it somehow I'll re-write it and post it...
"The Red Baron made this plane not only famous, but also effective. Yet he was one of the exceptional few to accomplish the latter and the only one to accomplish the former. Manfred von Richthofen was a sp..."
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
The Fokker Dr.1 Tri-Plane...Truly Worthy?
The Red Baron made this plane not only famous, but also effective. Yet he was one of the exceptional few to accomplish the latter and the only one to accomplish the former. Manfred von Richthofen was a special talent in the air. Few matched his prowess as an aerial hunter and marksman.
The Dr.1 was beautiful. It's the stuff of grand fighter pilot lore thanks to Manfred.
Despite that, the Dreidecker's run was short.
The tri-plane proved too often flimsy. Wing failures were repetitive in development late in 1917 causing Anthony Fokker to flip the bill for wing and structural modifications as well as tighter quality controls over production. Finally, come 1918, a modest allocation to merely 14 squadrons was approved.
A remarkably manueverable airplane, especially at low altitudes even down near the deck, the Dr.1's power was minimal. Its rate of climb was above average, but once at high altitude it instantly became the lesser aircraft. In the right hands of which the Baron's were one of the few, it could acrobatically allude faster more powerful Allied planes. The idea was get the enemy down near the treetops and guide them into a mistake before they got you back upstairs.
However, the wing failures continued in combat. German pilots came to find they couldn't reliably utilize the plane's striking manueverability, its #1 asset, comfortably and consistently. The Dr.1 was pulled from frontline battle by mid-Spring, a run of barely more than 300 completed. There were other factors; sub-par design attributes like poor cockpit visibility, a marginal gun platform, the growing effectiveness of the Allies' SPAD, and the inception of Fokker's own D-VII.
While it's the iconic beauty everyone recognizes from Snoopy to dear ol' dad, a peek behind the hangar door reveals a surprisingly short-lived and somewhat ineffective career particularly outside the magic hands of Manfred von Richtofen.
http://www.eaa.org/
The Dr.1 was beautiful. It's the stuff of grand fighter pilot lore thanks to Manfred.
Despite that, the Dreidecker's run was short.
The tri-plane proved too often flimsy. Wing failures were repetitive in development late in 1917 causing Anthony Fokker to flip the bill for wing and structural modifications as well as tighter quality controls over production. Finally, come 1918, a modest allocation to merely 14 squadrons was approved.
A remarkably manueverable airplane, especially at low altitudes even down near the deck, the Dr.1's power was minimal. Its rate of climb was above average, but once at high altitude it instantly became the lesser aircraft. In the right hands of which the Baron's were one of the few, it could acrobatically allude faster more powerful Allied planes. The idea was get the enemy down near the treetops and guide them into a mistake before they got you back upstairs.
However, the wing failures continued in combat. German pilots came to find they couldn't reliably utilize the plane's striking manueverability, its #1 asset, comfortably and consistently. The Dr.1 was pulled from frontline battle by mid-Spring, a run of barely more than 300 completed. There were other factors; sub-par design attributes like poor cockpit visibility, a marginal gun platform, the growing effectiveness of the Allies' SPAD, and the inception of Fokker's own D-VII.
While it's the iconic beauty everyone recognizes from Snoopy to dear ol' dad, a peek behind the hangar door reveals a surprisingly short-lived and somewhat ineffective career particularly outside the magic hands of Manfred von Richtofen.
http://www.eaa.org/
Change the Blog...Honing it Down
I've received some excellent advice regarding this blog...seems I've cast way too wide a net and gotten away, quickly, from my original intent and idea of what this blog is to be.
Long story short, this blog will now focus solely on World War history---World Wars I and II in particular.
That's still a pretty wide scope, but it shears off hundreds of other possibilities and subjects which is for the better in this case.
The novel I'm in the process of writing is based in World War I, and per the web address of the blog here, it's in the Historical Fiction category.
So let's have it. Whatever subjects you'd like to discuss I'm game and I'll of course be driving much of that too.
If you've had the priviledge of visiting the National World War I Museum in Kansas City please share your thoughts as I am planning a trip there within the next few weeks.
My thanks and warm regards,
Tim
Long story short, this blog will now focus solely on World War history---World Wars I and II in particular.
That's still a pretty wide scope, but it shears off hundreds of other possibilities and subjects which is for the better in this case.
The novel I'm in the process of writing is based in World War I, and per the web address of the blog here, it's in the Historical Fiction category.
So let's have it. Whatever subjects you'd like to discuss I'm game and I'll of course be driving much of that too.
If you've had the priviledge of visiting the National World War I Museum in Kansas City please share your thoughts as I am planning a trip there within the next few weeks.
My thanks and warm regards,
Tim
Monday, May 9, 2011
Chaos and Devastation in the Backyard
Ok I peeled a bit off one of Paul McCartney's CD titles for the above but it speaks to my point here.
These severe and tragic rashes of tornados this Spring has caused me to think about the subject of personal devastation. St. Louis, northern Arkansas, Alabama and other areas of the Deep South were lambasted last month by blistering tornados; these areas looked like war zones in the wake of these hyper-violent and historic storms.
Small towns are gone. Hundreds have died or were injured and many more have lost at least part of their homes or livlihoods.
People that have lived in a certain region and/or their homes for years now have literally nothing. No home, no cars, no food, no water, no kitchen or living room, no baby room, no bathroom, no backyard to enjoy the outdoors with their family and friends.
Though in a small way, this brings home some sliver of an idea to those effected (and also the volunteers & national guardsmen helping these people) of what it's like to be a refuge. How often have we read or heard about "the thousands of refugees" flooding into an adjacent country from the own war-torn areas of their own country?
We've seen the old pictures that aren't so eye-opening anymore of bomb-ravaged Europe near the end and shortly after World War II. The images of Hiroshima post-A-bomb give us pause, firstly because of trying to comprehend how one kitchen-table-sized device can mostly level an urban region, secondly, if at all, because we wonder what happened to those people that survived.
How did the residents of Verdun handle violently world-changing events from 1914?
How did your average Belgian feel being the on-ramp to war's hell in World War I...and World War II?
What about the folks in Berlin in 1945 in particular?
It's hard for the average American, me included, to grasp the real losing-of-it-all due to whatever life-changing event. One can't just gather up the family and head to the nearest Best Western and hole up for a few days and soon find everything is fine. We freak out enough when the power goes out for more than half an hour; conjure up having nothing at all to power up.
How did those who completely lost their way of life in past wars survive and rebuild?
Maybe a saving grace with these recent storms is there's no Red or Nazi army coming over the hill next, and there isn't another bomb and strafe run speeding through in a few hours. But these fellow Americans still ask that same question:
How do my family and I survive this, and how and where do we start over?
These severe and tragic rashes of tornados this Spring has caused me to think about the subject of personal devastation. St. Louis, northern Arkansas, Alabama and other areas of the Deep South were lambasted last month by blistering tornados; these areas looked like war zones in the wake of these hyper-violent and historic storms.
Small towns are gone. Hundreds have died or were injured and many more have lost at least part of their homes or livlihoods.
People that have lived in a certain region and/or their homes for years now have literally nothing. No home, no cars, no food, no water, no kitchen or living room, no baby room, no bathroom, no backyard to enjoy the outdoors with their family and friends.
Though in a small way, this brings home some sliver of an idea to those effected (and also the volunteers & national guardsmen helping these people) of what it's like to be a refuge. How often have we read or heard about "the thousands of refugees" flooding into an adjacent country from the own war-torn areas of their own country?
We've seen the old pictures that aren't so eye-opening anymore of bomb-ravaged Europe near the end and shortly after World War II. The images of Hiroshima post-A-bomb give us pause, firstly because of trying to comprehend how one kitchen-table-sized device can mostly level an urban region, secondly, if at all, because we wonder what happened to those people that survived.
How did the residents of Verdun handle violently world-changing events from 1914?
How did your average Belgian feel being the on-ramp to war's hell in World War I...and World War II?
What about the folks in Berlin in 1945 in particular?
It's hard for the average American, me included, to grasp the real losing-of-it-all due to whatever life-changing event. One can't just gather up the family and head to the nearest Best Western and hole up for a few days and soon find everything is fine. We freak out enough when the power goes out for more than half an hour; conjure up having nothing at all to power up.
How did those who completely lost their way of life in past wars survive and rebuild?
Maybe a saving grace with these recent storms is there's no Red or Nazi army coming over the hill next, and there isn't another bomb and strafe run speeding through in a few hours. But these fellow Americans still ask that same question:
How do my family and I survive this, and how and where do we start over?
Friday, May 6, 2011
What's your own history??
If you're interested in any sort of history like me you tend to look at yourself and your own life with a historical perspective from time-to-time.
With the help of my dad I recently moved my home office down to a room in my basement. This was preceded by a necessary cleaning up, purging and rearranging of a lot of "stuff" in the basement---much of which was personally historical. Some things FINALLY got tossed. When you hit your mid-40's the question of 'why in the world are you keeping this????' has sunk in on at least a few items. Too much was kept but at least the minutia level is down.
One of the cherished relics I came across was the late 90's hockey trophy my team won partly thanks to my winning shootout goal. I was given the trophy but it somehow ended up in my friend Ned's hands, one of our great defensemen. A couple years ago he surprised me with it when he and his wife came over one weekend evening---that about made my year to that point. I'd thought it long gone.
This piece is very special to me and I miss those hockey days. Like the happy, conquering knuckleheads we were after winning that championship we headed to the nearest watering hole that Sunday night and "drank from the chalice" of this trophy since, you know, that's what the champions of the NHL do every year when they win it all. There's a golden plastic cup in the middle of this trophy at the base that we filled up with refreshment and guzzled from and passed and guzzled from and passed.
It didn't work too well because to get our nastly mouths around it we had to press our head in between the trophy's supports and the low-domed upper platform of it to accomplish celebratory consumption. Worth it though!
And yes we skated around the rink with it for a few minutes before heading to said watering hole as well.
That winning goal was something to me. Hearing our small number of fans screaming and seeing the reaction of my team after I scored that goal will remain emblazened in my brain for as long as I'll live. We'd never won anything in hockey up to that point so this was pretty huge for all of us.
But hey, there was a lot more I came across in the basement...I'll share as time guzzles on...
With the help of my dad I recently moved my home office down to a room in my basement. This was preceded by a necessary cleaning up, purging and rearranging of a lot of "stuff" in the basement---much of which was personally historical. Some things FINALLY got tossed. When you hit your mid-40's the question of 'why in the world are you keeping this????' has sunk in on at least a few items. Too much was kept but at least the minutia level is down.
One of the cherished relics I came across was the late 90's hockey trophy my team won partly thanks to my winning shootout goal. I was given the trophy but it somehow ended up in my friend Ned's hands, one of our great defensemen. A couple years ago he surprised me with it when he and his wife came over one weekend evening---that about made my year to that point. I'd thought it long gone.
This piece is very special to me and I miss those hockey days. Like the happy, conquering knuckleheads we were after winning that championship we headed to the nearest watering hole that Sunday night and "drank from the chalice" of this trophy since, you know, that's what the champions of the NHL do every year when they win it all. There's a golden plastic cup in the middle of this trophy at the base that we filled up with refreshment and guzzled from and passed and guzzled from and passed.
It didn't work too well because to get our nastly mouths around it we had to press our head in between the trophy's supports and the low-domed upper platform of it to accomplish celebratory consumption. Worth it though!
And yes we skated around the rink with it for a few minutes before heading to said watering hole as well.
That winning goal was something to me. Hearing our small number of fans screaming and seeing the reaction of my team after I scored that goal will remain emblazened in my brain for as long as I'll live. We'd never won anything in hockey up to that point so this was pretty huge for all of us.
But hey, there was a lot more I came across in the basement...I'll share as time guzzles on...
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