A Helluva Birthday

I know that posting has been light as of late, but work has gotten in the way. I am currently halfway around  the world showing the flag for the United States. As you might imagine, internet connections are not the greatest at sea, nor is my free time as bountiful. But, I have not forgotten about you, dear readers.

About a three days before my twenty-fourth birthday, I received travel orders from Big Navy for to go meet USS FIRST SHIP out on the wild Atlantic. So, in keeping with one of the longest standing Naval traditions, I dropped everything I was doing and hopped on a plane on the eve of my birthday and flew thousands of miles to points untrodden. I actually turned twenty-four somewhere over the Atlantic.

I am now working hard, trying to get up to speed on the steep learning curve that are daily operations aboard a warship. I will update the blog as I am able, and will hopefully be able to return to three posts a week. But, fret not, Kipling Friday will continue unabated.

Kipling Friday

 

“Before a Midnight Breaks in Storm”

1903

Before a midnight breaks in storm,
Or herded sea in wrath,
Ye know what wavering gusts inform
The greater tempest’s path;
Till the loosed wind
Drive all from mind,
Except Distress, which, so will prophets cry,
O’ercame them, houseless, from the unhinting sky.

Ere rivers league against the land
In piratry of flood,
Ye know what waters steal and stand
Where seldom water stood.
Yet who will note,
Till fields afloat,
And washen carcass and the returning well,
Trumpet what these poor heralds strove to tell?

Ye know who use the Crystal Ball
(To peer by stealth on Doom),
The Shade that, shaping first of all,
Prepares an empty room.
Then doth It pass
Like breath from glass,
But, on the extorted Vision bowed intent,
No man considers why It came or went.

Before the years reborn behold
Themselves with stranger eye,
And the sport-making Gods of old,
Like Samson slaying, die,
Many shall hear
The all-pregnant sphere,
Bow to the birth and sweat, but–speech denied–
Sit dumb or–dealt in part–fall weak and wide.

Yet instant to fore-shadowed need
The eternal balance swings;
That winged men, the Fates may breed
So soon as Fate hath wings.
These shall possess
Our littleness,
And in the imperial task (as worthy) lay
Up our lives’ all to piece one giant Day.

Kipling Friday

Azrael’s Count

“Uncovenanted Mercies”
From “Limits and Renewals” (1930)

Lo! The Wild Cow of the Desert, her yeanling estrayed from her –
Lost in the wind-plaited sand-dunes — athirst in the maze of them.
Hot-foot she follows those foot-prints — the thrice-tangled ways of them.
Her soul is shut save to one thing — the love-quest consuming her
Fearless she lows past the camp, our fires affright her not.
Ranges she close to the tethered ones — the mares by the lances held.
Noses she softly apart the veil in the women’s tent.
Next — withdrawn under moonlight, a shadow afar off –
Fades. Ere men cry, “Hold her fast! darkness recovers her.
She the all-crazed and forlorn, when the dogs threaten her,
Only a side-tossed horn, as though a fly troubled her,
Shows she hath heard, till a lance in the heart of her quivereth.
– Lo, from that carcass aheap — where speeds the soul of it?
Where is the tryst it must keep? Who is her pandar? Death!

Men I dismiss to the Mercy greet me not willingly;
Crying, “When seekest Thou me first? Are not my kin unslain?
Shrinking aside from the Sword-edge, blinking the glare of it,
Sinking the chin in the neck-bone. How shall that profit them?
Yet, among men a ten thousand, few meet me otherwise.

Yet, among women a thousand, one comes to me mistress-wise.
Arms open, breasts open, mouth open — hot is her need on her.
Crying, “Ho, Servant, acquit me, the bound by Love’s promises!
Haste Thou! He Waits! I would go! Handle me lustily!”
Lo! her eyes stare past my wings, as things unbeheld by her.
Lo! her lips summoning part. I am not whom she calls!

Lo! My sword sinks and returns. At no time she heedeth it,
More than the dust of a journey, her garments brushed clear of it.
Lo! Ere the blood-gush has ceased, forward her soul rushes.
She is away to her tryst. Who is her pandar? Death!

Kipling Friday

Buddha at Kamakura

1892

“And there is a Japanese idol at Kamakura”

O ye who tread the Narrow Way
By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day,
Be gentle when “the heathen” pray
To Buddha at Kamakura!

To him the Way, the Law, apart,
Whom Maya held beneath her heart,
Ananda’s Lord, the Bodhisat,
The Buddha of Kamakura.

For though he neither burns nor sees,
Nor hears ye thank your Deities,
Ye have not sinned with such as these,
His children at Kamakura,

Yet spare us still the Western joke
When joss-sticks turn to scented smoke
The little sins of little folk
That worship at Kamakura –

The grey-robed, gay-sashed butterflies
That flit beneath the Master’s eyes.
He is beyond the Mysteries
But loves them at Kamakura.

And whoso will, from Pride released,
Contemning neither creed nor priest,
May feel the Soul of all the East
About him at Kamakura.

Yea, every tale Ananda heard,
Of birth as fish or beast or bird,
While yet in lives the Master stirred,
The warm wind brings Kamakura.

Till drowsy eyelids seem to see
A-flower ‘neath her golden htee
The Shwe-Dagon flare easterly
From Burmah to Kamakura,

And down the loaded air there comes
The thunder of Thibetan drums,
And droned — “Om mane padme hums” –
A world’s-width from Kamakura.

Yet Brahmans rule Benares still,
Buddh-Gaya’s ruins pit the hill,
And beef-fed zealots threaten ill
To Buddha and Kamakura.

A tourist-show, a legend told,
A rusting bulk of bronze and gold,
So much, and scarce so much, ye hold
The meaning of Kamakura?

But when the morning prayer is prayed,
Think, ere ye pass to strife and trade,
Is God in human image made
No nearer than Kamakura?

Of Tecumseh and Navy SEALs

A couple of months ago, I went to see Act of Valor with a few friends of mine in Newport, RI. In the film, the platoon leader, a Lieutenant and damn fine Naval Officer, is said to be a good study of history and a lover of poetry. These are not traits that usually first come to mind when you begin talking about hardened warriors like the SEALs, but below the surface of that thousand-yard stare lie the minds of thinkers. If you look hard enough, you’ll find that this trends across the entirety of the military. Sun Tzu’s admonishment to understand your enemy is a lesson well-taught within the ranks of the United States armed forces, and those who fail to heed it are usually instructed through fire and blood on the battlefield. As such, many members of the officer corps, and even the NCO corps, are well-learned, well-read, and very intelligent folks that are constantly bettering themselves mentally, physically, and spiritually. Which is why I present to you the following from the Shawnee Chieftain Tecumseh:

Live your life that the fear of death
can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about his religion.
Respect others in their views
and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life,
beautify all things in your life.
Seek to make your life long
and of service to your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day
when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting
or passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people, but grovel to none.
When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light,
for your life, for your strength.
Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason to give thanks,
the fault lies in yourself.
Abuse no one and nothing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.
When your time comes to die, be not like those
whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray
for a little more time to live their lives over again
in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.

~ Tecumseh

The above passage also illustrates another common trait amongst members of the military: The knowledge that tomorrow is never a given. Being a Soldier, Sailor, Airman, Marine, or Guardian is an inherently dangerous profession and death waits just over the horizon, as many in the blogosphere recently found out. Because of this, many military men and women live everyday as if it could be their last, taking nothing for granted.

It is all part of the same warrior ethos; living life to its fullest, constantly improving oneself, and striving for the betterment of those around you, loving tenderly those whom you care about, and then sallying forth to answer the call of duty in order to keep the gnashing teeth of the wolf at bay.

Obligatory Birthday Post

Because it’s my birthday, I’ve decided to share an excerpt from one of my favorite television shows. . . in the world! I’m a huge fan of the British television show Top Gear and Jeremy’s, James’, and Richard’s zany antics. The clip below is some of Jeremy Clarkson’s finest work and what I believe to be the standard for all cinematic automotive reviews. Enjoy.

Kipling Friday

The Last Lap

The Burning of the Sarah Sands
From “Land and Sea Tales” (1919-1923)

How do we know, by the bank-high river,
Where the mired and sulky oxen wait,
And it looks as though we might wait for ever,
How do we know that the floods abate?
There is no change in the current’s brawling–
Louder and harsher the freshet scolds;
Yet we can feel she is falling, falling
And the more she threatens the less she holds,
Down to the drift, with no word spoken,
The wheel-chained wagons slither and slue….
Achtung! The back of the worst is broken!
And–lash your leaders!–we’re through–we’re through!

How do we know, when the port-fog holds us
Moored and helpless, a mile from the pier,
And the week-long summer smother enfolds us–
How do we know it is going to clear?
There is no break in the blindfold weather,
But, one and another, about the bay,
The unseen capstans clink together,
Getting ready to up and away.
A pennon whimpers–the breeze has found us–
A headsail jumps through the thinning haze.
The whole hull follows, till–broad around us–
The clean-swept ocean says: “Go your ways!”

How do we know, when the long fight rages,
On the old, stale front that we cannot shake,
And it looks as though we were locked for ages,
How do we know they are going to break?
There is no lull in the level firing,
Nothing has shifted except the sun.
Yet we can feel they are tiring, tiring–
Yet we can tell they are ripe to run.
Something wavers, and, while we wonder,
Their centre-trenches are emptying out,
And, before their useless flanks go under,
Our guns have pounded retreat to rout!

The Marine Who Played Bambi

This week on Warrior Wednesday (The idea shamlessly taken from CDR Phibian) I want to discuss one of the traits of our military that makes us such an awesome and effective fighting force: Diversity. No, not the diversity you may be thinking of. When I talk diversity, it’s of backgrounds, walks of life, ideas, and opinions. This cornucopia of points of view on a myriad of topics provides the United States military with supreme adaptability. One of those warriors is Major Donnie Dunagan, USMC.

Before joining the Marine Corps in1952, Dunagan  was a child actor from San Antonio, Texas. While living in Memphis, Tennessee, he was discovered at winning a talent competition with a tap dance routine that had been forced to learn by his mother. From tap dancing came movie roles with silver screen greats like Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi. But his biggest role didn’t come until 1942 when he provided the voice of Bambi in the iconic animated film of the same name. Bambi would be his last film as he left show business soon afterwards. After his parents divorced, Dunagan worked in a myriad of odd jobs around the Los Angeles area until he received a draft notice shortly after turning eighteen. Then Private Dunagan would find a home in the Marines, making it a career that would span a quarter of a century.

Dunagan served three tours in Vietnam, where he was wounded several times. He was promoted quickly, eventually becoming an officer of Marines. He retired in 1977 as a Major in an infantry unit. He holds the distinction of being one of the youngest Drill Instructors in Marine Corps history.

While in the Corps, Dunagan did not speak of his previous experiences as a child actor. He especially did not mention his role as the voice of the beloved Disney deer. He believed that it would make him appear soft and leave him open for ridicule. It was not until a few years ago that he began speaking of his acting career again, after an accidental discovery by his local news station. In an interview about his time in the Corps and  his childhood acting career, Major Dunagan makes an interesting comment that I believe speaks volumes about the character of those men who serve in the combat arms:

“Is there any incongruity in being a tough old Marine and loving Bambi? No, no,” Dunagan said.

“I’m a sensitive man. When I had my first casualties as a lieutenant, I had a hard time controlling my emotions, but I had a strong sergeant with me who kept me from doing something stupid.

“I’ve been around some real tough guys, and I promise you on my honor: The strongest guys I’ve known in life would pick up a wounded baby kitty on the side of the road. Yet you wouldn’t want to go against them in combat. That is not inconsistent. It is part of the same ethos.”

To read the entire interview, follow the link.

The Navy and Bio-Fuel

For the last few years, the Navy has been pouring a lot of valuable money into bio-fuel research. The way that the project has been sold has been as a way to make the fleet more environmentally friendly, reducing emissions and the like. Now anyone who knows much about the engineering of ships knows that for the majority of our fleet, we use gas turbines in our main propulsion plants, and gas turbines burn through an exorbitant amount of gas in under the most “economical” of conditions. Because of this, the bio-fuel campaign has come under great scrutiny as a waste of money, including just recently from the Honorable Randy Forbes (R-VA).

The Navy used 20,000 gallons of algae-derived fuel for a November test in San Diego. Here, Lt. Cmdr. Frank Kim compares sample bottles of traditional diesel fuel and the alternative blend. Photo Courtesy of Dept of the Navy.

But the idea of “greening” the fleet isn’t all bad, it’s just being sold the wrong way. Having the ability to power our ships using bio-fuel as well as regular marine diesel provides us flexibility in the event that standard oil supplies are cut-off. Flexibility is crucial in warfare, as our adeptness at being able to roll with the punches can mean the difference between being victorious or having our rear-ends handed to us. And that being the case, we need to sell to Congress that we need to pursue bio-fuel alternatives in order to maintain superiority on the sea.

The only caveat is that bio-fuel isn’t the most economical way of providing independence from the vagaries of the oil market. The best way to do this is to convert as much of the fleet as possible to nuclear power. The joy about nuclear plants is that they don’t produce carbon emissions, they don’t need to be fueled up for decades, and they can run nearly indefinitely, meaning that a ship’s range is only limited by the amount of food and fresh water it can carry.

The only downside to a nuclear fleet is the amount of money required on the front end to install the reactor and propulsion plant. In the end, both initiatives are necessary, as well as increasing our domestic oil production as much as possible.

Kipling Friday

Big Steamers

1914-18

“Oh, where are you going to, all you Big Steamers,
With England’s own coal, up and down the salt seas?”
“We are going to fetch you your bread and your butter,
Your beef, pork, and mutton, eggs, apples, and cheese.”

“And where will you fetch it from, all you Big Steamers,
And where shall I write you when you are away?
“We fetch it from Melbourne, Quebec, and Vancouver–
Address us at Hobart, Hong-Kong, and Bombay.”

“But if anything happened to all you Big Steamers,
And suppose you were wrecked up and down the salt sea?”
“Then you’d have no coffee or bacon for breakfast,
And you’d have no muffins or toast for your tea.”

“Then I’ll pray for fine weather for all you Big Steamers,
For little blue billows and breezes so soft.”
“Oh, billows and breezes don’t bother Big Steamers,
For we’re iron below and steel-rigging aloft.”

“Then I’ll build a new lighthouse for all you Big Steamers,
With plenty wise pilots to pilot you through.”
“Oh, the Channel’s as bright as a ball-room already,
And pilots are thicker than pilchards at Looe.”

“Then what can I do for you, all you Big Steamers,
Oh, what can I do for your comfort and good?”
“Send out your big warships to watch your big waters,
That no one may stop us from bringing you food.

“For the bread that you eat and the biscuits you nibble, The sweets that you suck and the joints that you carve, They are brought to you daily by all us Big Steamers– And if one hinders our coming you’ll starve!”