Knowledge often is costly

Marines storm the command bunker on Tarawa, November 1943

Remembrance Day .... just another reminder

For better or for worse, some battles become mythic in proportion in the memory of mankind after the guns have become silent. So it is in Marine Corps' lore when speaking of an epic struggle which took place on November 20-23, 1943, on the Tarawa Atoll of the Gilbert Islands in the Pacific Ocean during World War II. The primary fighting took place on Betio Island, where this photograph was taken on the third and final full day of "major" combat.

The "hill" the Marines are storming in the photo, incidentally, is not a natural phenomenon, but the Japanese command bunker, which had been constructed from tons of concrete with tons of sand placed atop that to make it virtually indestructible to air or artillery weapons of the era.

About 1,200 Americans and nearly 5,000 Japanese died during the 76-hour ordeal to determine which country would control a tiny piece of land -- only about 300 acres -- in the middle of an ocean. A few years in the aftermath, military analysts agreed it was an unnecessary island invasion in the American war effort to defeat the Japanese Empire -- a battle that should never have been fought.

Why mention this battle today? Because today is Veterans Day, a day of remembrance. In the United States, it first was observed as Armistice Day to honor those who fought in World War I. The date selected to mark this event was that on which an armistice was signed to end the fighting in the "war to end all wars" -- the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.

Unfortunately and predictably, not all wars ended with the conclusion of World War I, so, in the 1950s, the decision was made to use this occasion to honor those who fought in World War II and Korea, as well, and the day was renamed Veterans Day. Some countries in Europe and elsewhere, maybe more appropriately, simply call it Remembrance Day.

Many of the men shown in the photograph died only minutes after it was taken. One of them, the fourth man from the right -- if you are able to distinguish him -- was one of four Marines to win the Medal of Honor that day.

Statistics from the battle include these: Four Medals of Honor, America's highest military award for valor (three of them posthumous); 46 Navy Crosses, the Marine Corps' and Navy's second highest award for valor (22 of them posthumous); four Distinguished Service Medals; 248 Silver Stars; 21 Legion of Merits. The Purple Heart is presented to Americans both killed and wounded in action, which puts that number at roughly 3,500 for this unnecessary, tiny island campaign.

The Battle of Tarawa was fought just a few days after Armistice Day / Veterans Day / Remembrance Day in 1943, barely 25 years after the final shots had been fired in the "war to end all wars." Today, still another 66 years later, it is very evident that few, if any, of those who have been entrusted to "replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth" have learned a blessed thing.

Hunters pass, ten things & sailing Italy

No, it is not Paris. It is Tahquamenon Falls in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I did not take this photograph, and have no idea who did or when it was taken, but it is an excellent illustration for another true story in column form. This is the way the woodlands were on a September day, once upon a time, in a place not too distant from there, when ....

Two hunters exchange thoughts ....
Part one of two

It is a warm day for September,
and the maples still hold their leaves,
while I wait, sitting, leaning against a fallen tree.
My vigil has lasted three hours,
and another hour of light remains
until the woodland belongs to itself.

My rifle rests across its own fallen tree
while I wait, eyes closed, listening
for any sound unnatural or new.
I sense movement at my crotch,
and my eyes open, glancing down
to discover what has found me there.

Two mice, babies, roll and wrestle
just as two kittens or two puppies often do
while waiting for time to pass.
I watch them for a moment, then slow
my breath and close my eyes again as I wait
for any sound unnatural or new.

Soft footfalls come on the trail out of sight;
my eyes open; my mice are gone,
no doubt fleeing the trail walker.
Through a tunnel, through the leaves,
I see him now, big, gray, eyes darting,
he listens, then bows his head to drink.

Seconds pass as the wolf drinks, looks,
eyes glancing, head shifting, drinks,
then steps into the midst of the stream.
He lies down, rolls around, stands,
shakes, drinks again, looks behind,
then slips off through the water.

Only my eyes move while I glimpse him,
as he goes his way, continuing his own hunt,
and the sounds return to dusky natural.
Seventeen yards, the distance had been,
so close we were, yet he stopped to drink;
did he not feel my eyes upon him there?

My intrusion to the woodland is not new,
my presence left many places upon the trails;
he must have known of me that autumn day.
He must have smelled the rifle by my hands,
but did not fear, for my mind was open to him,
and clearly he knew my prey was bear that day.

Thank you, writers of the blog ....

Several people I "follow" posted yesterday. As I keep noting, I entered the "sea of blogs" for the purpose of being a reader, not a writer, although now my presence involves both. I began writing as a diversion to winter and for fun. But, the most interesting element about being here, for me, continues being able to read about the thoughts and activities of others. Thank you, to everyone who wrote on Saturday.

The Talented Mr. Ripley ....

When I am home, I generally have three or four televisions running in various rooms. If I happen to pass by one and see something that interests me, I sit down and watch. The question usually is, for how long? Last evening, I happened to walk by "The Talented Mr. Ripley." I watched for maybe 10 minutes. Whether or not I watch the entire movie sometime is not my point, rather, it is this: While I watched, the characters were cruising the coast of Italy in a 30-foot(?) sailboat. Need I say more?

Ten things on my list ....

Here are ten activities I want to do along the way, not in any particular order. There are other things I've listed previously, here are some more: Anyone care to mention their list?

Go to a Rolling Stones concert and throw my girlfriend's bra up onto the stage and start blowing kisses at the band (what the heck, any band will do).

Go to Norway and see Fridtjof Nansen's ship, the Fram (but not for long; I generally do not eat fish).

Go to Germany and swim in the Rhine River (and drink some Rhine wine).

Go to the land of the Rus (Russia; Swedish Vikings) and swim in the Volga River (ok, I'll admit it, drink some real vodka, too).

Go to the island of Tarawa in the Gilbert Atoll of the Pacific Ocean and swim in the lagoon, sleep on the beach and maybe have a dream. (see Marine Corps; World War II.)

Live by the Mediterranean for a year or two (probably southern France; guns, books and vehicles can be stored).

Ride a horse enough so that I actually became comfortable doing it (might take a lot of riding).

Get drunk in Harry's Bar (again) to relive a teenage expectation (again).

Spend a few nights in Missolonghi (or however they spell it these days), Greece.

Canoe "the river of no return" (Salmon River, Idaho; we will put this one toward the last).

Music Note: Listening to Luciano Pavarotti ....
Specifically, "The Ultimate Collection" ....
("Torna a Surriento" .... mellow mood)

Semper Fi, to the end of time ....

.... Once upon a time .... Minnesota to Virginia to California to ....

Many and many a year ago, in a kingdom not even close to the sea,
I signed my name on the dotted line and, forevermore, a Marine came to be. (Recognize who I'm sort of paraphrasing/plagiarizing?)

It's been a few years since, on January 24, Capt. William "Hoppy" Boyd swore me in. It was in the evening, in a hotel room. I'll not bother with the details other than to say the event was witnessed by a Gunny whose name I've forgotten and by a high school friend who just happened to be driving through town on his way to boot camp with the U.S. Navy. He had knocked on my door, looking for a place to spend the night. That was the last night I ever saw him. He stayed in California after his discharge from the Navy, and he's dead now.

I'll place a few quotes regarding the Marine Corps after my own words, some well known, others more obscure, to mark this occasion. This date is as important to me as any other anniversary in my life. I mark it each and every year. In a sense, having been a Marine to the "core" while having retained my individuality is a "feel good," personal accomplishment.

Now, from Fram to all Marines, those dead, those living and those yet to be born: Semper Fi, to the end of time ....

Thus spake:

There are only two kinds of people that understand Marines: Marines and the enemy. Everyone else has a second-hand opinion.
Gen. William Thornson, U.S. Army

The safest place in Korea was right behind a platoon of Marines. Lord, how they could fight!
MajGen. Frank E. Lowe, U.S. Army

Why in hell can't the Army do it if the Marines can? They are the same kind of men; why can't they be like Marines.
Gen. John "Black Jack" Pershing, U.S. Army

The United States Marine Corps, with its fiercely proud tradition of excellence in combat, its hallowed rituals, and its unbending code of honor, is part of the fabric of American myth.
Thomas E. Ricks, "Making the Corps," 1997

We have two companies of Marines running rampant all over the northern half of this island (Grenada), and three Army regiments pinned down in the southwestern corner, doing nothing. What the hell is going on?
Gen. John W. Vessey Jr., U.S. Army

Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem.
Ronald Reagan, President of the United States

Marines I see as two breeds, Rottweilers or Dobermans, because Marines come in two varieties, big and mean, or skinny and mean. They're aggressive on the attack and tenacious on defense. They've got really short hair and they always go for the throat.
RAdm. "Jay" R. Stark, U.S. Navy

Don't you forget that you're First Marines! Not all the communists in Hell can overrun you!
Col. Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller, USMC

My only answer as to why the Marines get the toughest jobs is because the average Leatherneck is a much better fighter. He has far more guts, courage and better officers ... These boys out here have a pride in the Marine Corps and will fight to the end no matter what the cost.
Lt. Richard C. Kennard, USMC

You cannot exaggerate about the Marines. They are convinced to the point of arrogance that they are the most ferocious fighters on earth, and the amusing thing about it is that they are.
Father Kevin Keaney, 1st Marine Division Chaplain

Being ready is not what matters. What matters is winning after you get there.
LtGen. Victor H. Krulak, USMC

The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle.
Gen. John "Black Jack" Pershing, U.S. Army

The American Marines have it (pride), and benefit from it. They are tough, cocky, sure of themselves and their buddies. They can fight and they know it.
Gen. Mark Clark, U.S. Army

Every Marine is, first and foremost, a rifleman. All other conditions are secondary.
Gen. A.M. Gray, Commandant of the Marine Corps

Casualties many; percentage of dead not known; combat efficiency, we are winning.
Col. David Shoup, USMC, Medal of Honor, Tarawa, 1943
A battle of mythological proportions