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With the holiday season is full-swing, it’s easy to forget about those who are far from home including armed forces serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. There’s an opportunity for you and those you know to send a U.S. soldier a holiday postcard. All it takes is a few clicks of a mouse, and it’s entirely free.

You can pick a card at this website and Xerox will print it, and sent it to a soldier currently serving in Iraq. Just visit this website www.LetsSayThanks.com.

Veterans Day means different things to different people. For many Americans it seems that there is no universal sense that the men and women who have worn the uniform are to be regarded in the same way.

Wars and military conflicts that we believe we were right to conduct seem to afford their veterans more honor than wars we opposed. Hence the World War II vet was seen instantly as a noble warrior, whereas, for a long time in this country, and for some still, the Vietnam veteran was not.

In the just-completed presidential campaign opponents to the war in Iraq were quick to say that they support the troops, even while they condemn the war. I have always found this kind of reasoning difficult to understand. Soldiers, sailors and Marines fight wars. That’s their purpose. They are trained to eliminate our enemies in the theater of battle. They have no other mission. That mission is war making. To suggest that we support our troops, but not the reason they exist is ridiculous.

If you oppose a war, don’t send the troops. If you send in the troops, let’s be realistic you intend the war making.

What is much more important to keep in mind is that those who have serve the interests of freedom in all wars over the years, are never in a position to refuse the mission they are given. Their oath is to serve. They may object, and a very few do on occasion, but otherwise, they fight, and place their lives on the line for the rest of us, whenever and wherever they are sent. They are not asked which conflicts they find acceptable. This is what makes these brave men and women honorable. This is why as a nation we hold them in high esteem, regardless of the wars that demanded their sacrifices. This why we they stand tallest among us. This is why we are forever grateful for their service.

On this Veterans Day, therefore, I find no cause to parse history. Every man and woman who has fallen in battle, and all others who offered any portion of their lives to defend what we all hold dear, deserves my respect and appreciation, and they have both. Without distinction, I honor even those who fought to protect our interests around the world, notwithstanding the popularity of those interests here at home.

Thank you for your service to your country.

This is a pic of me and my former commanding officer Colonel Willy Buhl a few years back. It was August of 2004 and we hadn’t seen each other in a few years. I was serving as an infantry squad leader with the Army Guard in Baghdad; he was the CO of the Thundering Third Herd in Fallujah.

The Marine Corps is a small, tight-knit brother / sisterhood of warriors. I hadn’t seen Col. Buhl in years - we’d served together back in the early 90s - but here we were at a chance meeting in an Army Forward Operating Base in a combat zone talking like the old friends we are.

That brotherhood, that cameraderie, is one of the defining elements that sets the Marine apart from his peers and today, as is the case every November 10th for the last 233 years, that cameraderie shines the brightest as today is our birthday.

So before I publish the order of the day, I want to extend a hearty happy birthday to every Teufelhund out there in the community. Thank you for your service and Semper Fi.

MARINE CORPS ORDERS
No. 47 (Series 1921)
HEADQUARTERS U.S. MARINE CORPS
Washington, November 1, 1921

759. The following will be read to the command on the 10th of November, 1921, and hereafter on the 10th of November of every year. Should the order not be received by the 10th of November, 1921, it will be read upon receipt.

(1) On November 10, 1775, a Corps of Marines was created by a resolution of Continental Congress. Since that date many thousand men have borne the name “Marine”. In memory of them it is fitting that we who are Marines should commemorate the birthday of our corps by calling to mind the glories of its long and illustrious history.

(2) The record of our corps is one which will bear comparison with that of the most famous military organizations in the world’s history. During 90 of the 146 years of its existence the Marine Corps has been in action against the Nation’s foes. From the Battle of Trenton to the Argonne, Marines have won foremost honors in war, and in the long eras of tranquility at home, generation after generation of Marines have grown gray in war in both hemispheres and in every corner of the seven seas, that our country and its citizens might enjoy peace and security.

(3) In every battle and skirmish since the birth of our corps, Marines have acquitted themselves with the greatest distinction, winning new honors on each occasion until the term “Marine” has come to signify all that is highest in military efficiency and soldierly virtue.

(4) This high name of distinction and soldierly repute we who are Marines today have received from those who preceded us in the corps. With it we have also received from them the eternal spirit which has animated our corps from generation to generation and has been the distinguishing mark of the Marines in every age. So long as that spirit continues to flourish Marines will be found equal to every emergency in the future as they have been in the past, and the men of our Nation will regard us as worthy successors to the long line of illustrious men who have served as “Soldiers of the Sea” since the founding of the Corps.

JOHN A. LEJEUNE,
Major General Commandant
75705–21

Seven years have passed since nearly three thousand of our countrymen were killed on a bright clear September morning. It was the first time in our history that any enemy ever dared to attack us on our own soil.

This was not a navy base thousands of miles away. These victims were not soldiers. These victims were civilians, deliberately targeted by perhaps the greatest evil movement on the planet since the rise of Nazism.

What troubles me as much as the memories of men and women plunging to their deaths from windows eighty to ninety stories above lower Manhattan, is the cavalier way in which we soon dismissed the significance of what happened to this nation, and returned to a host of agendas, ignoring the threat that remains to this day.

Today, the media doesn’t show us the images of 9-11, because some actually claim to be offended. It stuns me that many Americans have become comfortable with the notion that the events of September 11th, 2001 were the result of American arrogance and flawed foreign policy decisions. We deserved it … we took our punishment, so let’s move on, they tell us.

That widely held sentiment is shocking.

Whether or not we choose to face it, our future was altered by the events of 9-11, and we must embrace what that means. We must accept that never again will warfare take the form it has taken for centuries. Never again will our enemies wear uniforms, and deploy from within the borders of a nation-state.

From 9-11 forward the enemy is a phantom. Only fools ignore the peril that brings. Only the ignorant or the arrogant dismiss the challenges to our constitutional republic that represents. This much remains the same. A nation divided is no match for this, or any enemy. Ours is a nation divided.

Remember the Alamo.

Remember the Maine.

Remember Pearl Harbor.

Remember 9/11.

It’s been seven years since that last rallying cry became a part of our country’s collective consciousness, the latest in an all-too-familiar string of attacks on either our national interests, national pride or our sovereignty.

In the seven years since the deadly attacks against Washington and New York City, 9/11 has become a political football much in the same way the powers that be assessed blame for the attacks on the Pacific Fleet lying at anchor in Pearl Harbor and the sinking of the USS Maine in Havana’s harbor.

What’s long since been forgotten by the pundits and politicians is that in those terrible minutes after airliners were intentionally rammed into the Pentagon and World Trade Center thousands of American lives were lost.

September 11th is a day to remember those lives lost seven years ago as much as we will pause on December 7th to remember the lives lost over 60 years ago in Hawaii.

It shouldn’t be about politics.

It should be about the people our country lost that fateful day seven years ago Thursday.

It should be about Mothers and Daughters. Fathers and Sons. Sisters and Brothers. Grandparents. Husbands and Wives. Police Officers and Firefighters. Soldiers and Airmen. Sailors and Marines.

That’s what “Remembering 9/11” is really about.

NOTE: And to the vandals who defaced Coeur d’Alene’s 9/11 Memorial overnight. There are probably quite a few firefighters and police officers in North Idaho that would love to make your acquaintance. If you have any information on who defaced the memorial to honor our nation’s fallen, please call the Coeur d’Alene Police Department at 208.769.2320.

The Department of Defense announced today the death of a soldier who was supporting operation Iraqi Freedom.

Spc. Carlo E. Alfonso, 23, of Spokane, Wash., died on Aug. 26 of injuries sustained when his vehicle struck an improvised explosive device in Sadr City, Iraq. He was assigned to the 40th Engineer Battalion, 2d Brigade Combat Team, 1st Armored Division, Baumholder, Germany.

NOTE: Alfonso’s wife, Rosemarie, contacted us last week with the news of her husband’s death. Alfonso -pictured on the left above - is scheduled to return home later this week for his funeral and memorial service. Full story on SPC. Alfonso’s death here.

There is horrific evil in this world. We prefer not to have to face it and most often we manage to avoid confronting it. In a Boise federal courtroom over the last few days that wasn’t possible. Unimaginable horror and evil at its darkest was portrayed by prosecutors who want convicted killer Joseph Edward Duncan III to die for his crimes against an innocent family and against humanity.

Jurors cringed, barely able to stand witnessing the images on a video tape Duncan used to record his sexual abuse and torture of a nine year old boy at a remote campsite in a forest in Western Montana.

The video was probably unnecessary. Descriptions by Shasta Groene, also on video tape, given to law officers only hours after she was removed from Joseph Duncan’s custody, said all that jury would need in order to call for the defendant’s death. The older sister of Dylan was forced to watch as this demon of a man abused and killed her brother.

Joseph Duncan is perhaps the most grotesque form of evil personified on this planet yet, sadly, he is not a rare monster.

This evil is plentiful and takes many forms. It is a serial killer, an abusive father or mother, a tyrannical dictator, an international terrorist. It exists in millions of awful people. It prowls through the world seeking the ruin of souls.

Consider that killing Joseph Duncan, which I think is inevitable, may provide us with a sense of justice and relief, but his demise brings about the end only one of the devil’s foot soldiers.

Last night we ran a story about local Guardsmen getting ready to head off to Iraq. The 81st Brigade of the Washington Army National Guard is heading to Camp Anaconda north of Baghdad for their second combat tour in four years.

The story focused on one man, Captain Clayton Colliton, who will be returning along with the brigade as a company commander in the 81st Brigade. The story was one of pride of a son - Clayton - in service to his country and pride of a father - former Spokane City Councilman Jeff Colliton - who served in the military himself and has watched his sons all participate in a family business that goes back to the time of his great-grandfather’s service.

Here’s the rest of his story because you see in some ways Clayton Colliton saved my life one day back in October of 2004.

It was early October and my platoon - 1st Platoon Charlie Company 1st of the 161st Infantry - was heading out on a combat patrol down to Jisr Diyala, a backwater suburb a dozen klicks south of Baghdad, Iraq. I can’t use the words I’d like to describe Jisr Diyala because this is, after all, a family-friendly blog.

I was in an armored personnel carrier - an M113 - at the tail end of the platoon column. SPC Erik Bombard was the driver, SGT James Roush was the track commander. Also in the track were SPC Noel Marshall, our platoon medic, SSG Kurt Hosman and SPC Jesse Fierro among others.

We were driving out of the Green Zone and had just left the 14 July Bridge checkpoint at the southern end of our little slice of heaven in downtown Baghdad and were heading down a street that paralleled that Karrada Street shopping district when a drain plug popped out the bottom of the track. Unfortunately that drain plug was the only thing holding in all the hydraulic fluid for our track and, unfortunately, we needed hydraulic fluid to control two things: Our Steering and Our Brakes.

Imagine Erik Bombard’s surprise when our track started drifting into oncoming traffic and he found out the hard way he had neither. He had the steering controls cranked all the way to the right and still the track was slewing to the left.

Suddenly the controls responded to Bombard’s commands and the track veered right. Hard Right.

I was sitting in the back with the rest of the guys in Kurt Hosman’s squad, oblivious to what was going on when suddenly the track crashed, nearly toppling over on its side, with chunks of bricks and mortar raining in from the open top troop hatch. As you can see from the picture at the top of the post, we had crashed into a brick wall.

SGT Roush was ejected from his position - where that open hatch is atop the track - and thrown about a dozen feet into the middle of the street. We later joked that we should file charges against him for abandoning his post but he suffered a tour-ending skull fracture; his injuries were no laughing matter.

Here’s the scary thing. Our track’s crash knocked all power to the vehicle including our radios. We were at the tail end of the platoon column and the rest of the platoon didn’t notice we had crashed and kept driving down the road out of sight. We were a handful of guys, one critically injured and needing to go to the hospital, stuck with an immobilized armored personnel carrier and out of communications with everyone else.

We were in the middle of Baghdad and on our own.

Doc Marshall started treating Roush while the rest of us started getting ourselves organized around our dead track. There wasn’t much more we could do except hope an American unit would come by and give us a hand.

Within a few minutes a column of gun trucks came up the road headed toward the Green Zone. It was Lieutenant Clayton Colliton and “Stetson” - our battalion’s Scout Platoon. Lt. Colliton got out of his Humvee, we gave him a quick rundown on what was going on. While his Scouts got out and helped provide local security and assisted Doc Marshall with treating Roush, Colliton got on the battalion net to let our platoon know where we were and what happened.

Now if you ask him today Captain Colliton probably won’t recall this seemingly insignificant event. All he did, he might say, was use his radio to help out a squad of grunts that had broken contact with the rest of its platoon.

But being out there on our own with a damaged track and a wounded soldier and no radio to this day I’m not sure what would have happened if Colliton and his Scouts hadn’t been driving by.

So thank you for your help Captain Collliton. You guys stay safe up there at Anaconda.

Scouts Out.

  It’s fitting my very first blog would be about something that I have not be able to stop talking about this week… a backseat ride with the Blue Angels.

   Thousands of hard working soldiers, sailors and marines work aroud the F-A-18 Hornet every day but very few of them ever get to fly in one.

  That’s why I felt so privileged to have the opportunity to board Blue Angel Seven at Fairchild A.F.B.

  For years I’ve been thrilled to sit back by the boom of a K-C 135 and watch Fairchild’s air tanker’s refuel thirsty fighters like the Hornet… this was my chance to see where all that gas was going.

  My pilot, Lt. Frank Weissner of Atlanta, Georgia whisked me into the sky with a vertical climb that leveled off at seven thousand feet… then it was north into the mountains of extreme eastern Washington where the Lt. tickled me with with the low level, high speed flying he would use to evade enemy radar overseas. In fact all of the Blue Angels pilots are fresh from the battle field or heading there as soon as their two year duty on the air show circut is over.

  The flight wasn’t easy… I tried to avoid throwing up, passsing out and begging for mercy as Weissner wrapped the Hornet around in turns that topped out at 7.9 g’s.

  Back on the ground, as I took off the soggy helmet, I thanked the young Georgian for the ride of my life and then wondered how this 25 year old and his fellow aviators manage to do what they do.

  Every day, and more often at night, in the skies over Iraq and Afghanistan, pilots like Weissner pull the same g’s…. doing the same type of flying from their cramped cockpits… only in those air shows there are people waiting 24/7 to shoot missles at them.  In an instant Weissner’s undoubtedly proud parents could become very sad ones… and it happens to the parents of our soldiers and Marines as well.

   I used to think I would have made a good fighter pilot but after my ride with Weissner I know I only have a fraction of what it really takes.

Heath Ledger, whose performance as as the Joker in the summer blockbuster “The Dark Knight” earned rave reviews, died months before the film hit theaters. He is hardly the first movie star to die before release of a final film.

Here’s a list of others:

AALIYAH: The R&B star died in a 2001 Bahamas plane crash before the release of vampire flick “Queen of the Damned.”

JAMES DEAN: “Rebel Without a Cause” was released one month after Dean, 24, was killed in a 1955 car accident.

CLARK GABLE: Gable died of a heart attack at 59 before the 1960 release of the film “The Misfits.”

RIVER PHOENIX: Died of drug-related heart failure four months before his film, “Silent Tongue,” came out.

JEAN HARLOW: Harlow was just 26 when she died of kidney disease just a month before release of her 1937 film “Saratoga.”

MARILYN MONROE: The sexy star died in 1962 from a drug overdose while still filming “Something’s Got to Give,” which was later redone as “Move Over, Darling.”

SPENCER TRACY: The 67-year-old screen star died of a heart attack after completing “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”
 
BRANDON LEE: The son of martial arts film star Bruce Lee died in a mishap on the set of “The Crow” just eight days before filming was to be completed.

BRUCE LEE: The marshal arts star died at 32 from a cerebral edema, one month before the release of his last film, “Enter the Dragon.”

NATALIE WOOD: The “West Side Story” starlet drowned in 1981 just before the completion of the science-fiction thriller “Brainstorm.”

JOHN CANDY: “Saturday Night Live” comedian dropped dead in 1994 while on location filming “Wagon’s East.”

TUPAC SHAKUR: The rapper, 25, was killed in a 1996 drive-by shooting after completing two films, “Gridlock’d” and “Gang Related,” both of which were released the following year.

PHIL HARTMAN: SNL star was shot and killed by his wife, Brynn Hartman, in a 1998 murder-suicide two months before the release of his film “Small Soldiers.”

CHRIS FARLEY: The pudgy SNL funnyman died of a drug overdose in 1997, just a month before the release of his 1997 film “Beverly Hills Ninja”.

GARY COOPER: Screen legend died of cancer in 1961, just a month before the release of his British mystery film “The Naked Edge.”

Four years ago today the balance between life and death was determined by about ten feet, roughly the distance across the hood of the Humvee I’m sitting on in this picture (I’m the guy wearing the bandana sitting on the desert tan colored Humvee).

About 10 days after this picture was taken I was on the passenger side of the hood, banging away with my M-16 into the midnight darkness while telling my lieutenant on the radio in between RPG shots and bursts of heavy machine gun fire that my squad was not having a good evening.

My driver, Spec. Jeremiah Schmunk, was on the driver’s side. Ten horizontal feet is all that separated us.

I saw the sun rise the next morning. He didn’t.

I’ve found as the days turned into weeks into months into years that war has a way of taking a psychological toll on a man that no one can ever anticipate.

I visited one of the most loyal soldiers in my platoon a few months back. It was strange seeing him in an orange Adams County Jail jumpsuit behind a plexiglass window.

Another soldier has nearly destroyed his liver with alcohol and his kidneys aren’t too far behind. I’d be surprised if he’s alive by this time next year.

One soldier has had a job for the last seven months. That’s pretty good considering that the two years before that he was doing hard drugs and nearly lost his wife, children and his life.

Some guys fared better. Several got married, several have had children or have them on the way.

Some put the war in a shoebox in the back of some closet and didn’t think about it for years.

Some went to the VA for help. Some got help. Some got red tape instead.

I’m a big believer in buffets because I like to try almost everything and that’s how I approached coming to terms with seeing that sun rise on July 9th, 2004 while one of my troops was lying in a morgue.

When I got home I drank. I slept with a gun under my pillow the first few months I was home because I was used to it. Driving to work I avoided the right lane and potholes when I drove because that’s where the IEDs were. Eventually I went to the VA and got help. Then I sat in front of my computer and wrote about it.

Our lives turned a dark corner on July 8th, 2004 in Al Wadiya, Iraq. The battle lasted a matter of hours but its effects have lingered four years. I’ve realized that the true courage of a warrior doesn’t come out in the heat of battle when bullets are snapping over your head. The true courage of a warrior comes with getting up and facing every sunrise long after the last shot was fired.

Lynn sent me a link today to a video that shows a Seattle man’s efforts for the community to show its appreciation for our country’s men and women serving in the military. As a former Jarhead (and Guardsman) she thought I might like to share this with others in our community.

This is an excellent example of a viral campaign to raise awareness on the Internets about something someone is interested in. The message is simple, the presentation is straightforward. From the looks of things the Gratitude Campaign has gotten a lot of visibility since it began.

Anyway, if have the time, click play and watch the film. Next time you see a serviceman maybe you’ll be motivated enough to thank them for their service.

Footnote: As I mentioned to Lynn in a comment earlier, when I watched the video I was taken aback about 20 or 30 seconds into the video. A person is shown holding the bracelet for a soldier who was killed in action. The soldier’s name is Jeff Shaver. He was killed in action in May of 2004.

Shaver was a member of my battalion’s medical platoon when we were deployed to Baghdad, Iraq. I didn’t know him personally but Doc Marshall, my platoon’s medic, and other medics in my rifle company knew him well.

Thanks for the link Lynn.

“Lone Survivor” is the story of a group of Navy SEALs against great odds.  A story of heroism, courage and brotherhood.  “Lone Survivor” by Marcus Luttrell is a moving and emotional account of one man’s will to survive and his fellow soldiers bravery under fire.

(Pro Triathlete, Jim Vance, Former Navy SEAL; Marcus Luttrell and Dave Erickson)

Friday, Luttrell stopped by the KXLY4 studio for a one on one interview about why he’s here in the Inland Northwest this weekend and why he wrote this #1 National Bestseller, “Lone Survivor”.

Jurassic Park comes true:

Deep inside the dusty university store room, three scientists struggle to lift a huge fossilised bone.

It is from the leg of a dinosaur.  For many years, this chunky specimen has languished cryptically on a shelf.  Interesting but useless — a forgotten relic of a lost age.   Now, with hammer and chisel poised, the academics from Montana State University in America gather round.

They are about to shatter this rare vestige of the past.  Why would they do such a thing? (continue reading)