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Friday, March 30, 2007

Flowers of The Forest


Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Those of us with Scottish heritage refer to our deceased as "Flowers of the Forest".

I just now received an e-mail with very sad news.

My former LDS missionary companion, "Ringo", the amazing border collie and trusty star wonder dog of the Rocking G Ranch, has been put to sleep.

He had become ill and could no longer stand on his feet.

The cause of his illness is unknown.

During the two years we were serving our full time mission for the Church of JESUS CHRIST of Latter-day Saints, that puppy was my constant boon companion, and he even saved my life.

He was not my dog, but belonged to the ranch, so I haven't seen him since I completed my mission.

I reckon I'm the only Mormon missionary in the history of the Church whose mission companion was a dog.

But then, our mission was very unusual, being called to patrol and protect a genuine Western cattle ranch, in Utah's "Outlaw Trail" country.

Oh, I loved it.

Cowboy up, y'all!

Thank you.

Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Constitution - - - Or Not?

Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Okay, let me see if I can get this all straight - - -

A few days ago (I lost track of time), some Federal Appeals Court ruled that the anti-gun laws in the District of Columbia violated the United States Constitution.

That very day, in a panic, the mayor and chief of police here in Washington, D.C. go on television to say they are going to enforce the gun laws, even if the court has ruled those laws are wrong.

Am I correct so far?

Hmmm - - - isn't that contempt of court?

Why weren't the mayor and chief of police immediately arrested and prosecuted?

Yesterday, a congressional aide was arrested for carrying a loaded firearm.

Why?

Remember, the anti-gun laws in the District of Columbia have been ruled unconstitutional, or so I understand.

What about the Capitol Police officers who made that arrest, and the magistrate (or whoever) that arraigned the congressional aide?

Shouldn't they all be arrested and charged with contempt of court?

Shouldn't they be sued for false arrest, false imprisonment, and violation of civil rights?

Does our Constitution mean anything, or doesn't it?

If the Federal Appeals Court can rule on a Constitutional issue, then why can't they issue arrest warrants to enforce their own ruling?

Is this all just for show?

Can police do anything they want because they are the only ones wearing guns?

Are the judges powerless to enforce their own rulings because they don't have any guns to back them up?

Please, can one of you all explain what's going on here?

None of this makes sense to me.

Thank you.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Monday, March 26, 2007

Armory Photos









Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Attached to this e-mail are four (04) photographs of my sword, dirk, and sgian dubh.

For those of you who do not speak Gaelic, "sgian dubh", is pronounced, "skeen doo", and the literal translation is "knife black" (in Gaelic, the descriptive adjective comes AFTER the noun).

Basically, these are naught but stage props, only for show, and thoroughly useless for real combat.

Darn it!

The sgian dubh was traditionally carried concealed, hence the name, "black knife", because it was secret, usually hidden in the armpit.

When visiting another clansman, the polite Highlander would leave his weapons at the door, but retain his sgian dubh, as it was a weapon of last resort, not meant for his host, but for an intruder.

Out of consideration for his host, the visiting Highlander would tuck the sgian dubh in the top of his hose, where it would be in plain view.

I bought my sgian dubh from J.Higgins, Ltd., at the same time I ordered my kilt, as part of the package.

I purchased the sword and dirk on the Internet from Next Generation Web, which supplies theatres, motion picture companies, reenactors, et cetera.

The dirk came with its own frog already attached.

I bought a frog for the sword, but I don't remember where on the Internet I found it.

The sword can't be worn with my Argyll jacket, so I think I'm going to order a baldric from the Ravenswood Leather web site.

Thank you.

Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Saturday, March 24, 2007

PHOTO OF MY NEW KILT, ET CETERA

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Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Attached to this e-mail are three (03) photographs which I took with my digital camera, and it's the very first time I've actually used it.

The first photograph is of me, wearing my new kilt.














Unfortunately, I failed to make sure my jacket was on properly, so I look a little disheveled.

When I'm feeling better, maybe I'll get all dressed up again and try to take a better picture.

It's the first time I ever used a camera with a timed shutter to snap a photo of myself.

The second photograph shows display cases of my step mother's military decorations, my father's military decorations, and my own military decorations.












 



The flag is from my father's casket, and the photograph is of him at an orphanage in Korea.

The sword is an antique I obtained in Israel.

Next to it is a punji stake from a booby trap in Viet Nam, which I obtained while on a patrol.

The paper beneath the punji stake is my official War Trophy Registration/Authorization.

Above the punji stake is a framed diploma from the Senior NCO Military Police Supervisor course at Fort Eustis, Commonwealth of Virginia.

Below the war trophy certificate is a photograph of the Viet Nam Memorial in Salt Lake City, Utah.

I was on the committee that financed, designed, and built that memorial.

The third photograph is of my television and computer.












 



You'll notice I'm running the S.E.T.I. screensaver on my computer.

That's the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence.

For the Internet discussion groups whose e-mail settings won't permit viewing of these photographs, I will post these photographs separately in your group photo albums at your web site.

I do not yet know if my blog will accept these photographs, but I'm about to find out.

Thank you. 
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

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Friday, March 23, 2007

Movie Critique: "THE MOVIE HERO"

Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

I just now watched "THE MOVIE HERO", and my first impression was how talented the cast was, and how hard they must have studied and rehearsed.

Having a wee bit of experience at acting in a couple of local community theatre productions, I can appreciate how much effort is involved in memorizing that much dialogue.

Also, when treading the boards, you don't just memorize and parrot a script - - - you must exhibit realistic emotions, body language, and facial expressions, in order to convince the audience that you really are the character you're pretending to be.

But, the most important lesson from this particular movie - - - and it is indeed a worthwhile lesson - - - is its philosophy, which I deem to be significantly true.

We each should live our individual lives as though we really are in front of an audience, starring in our own production.

Can you see your audience?

In our mortal lives, do we not constantly interact with other human beings, and do we not affect each other's moods, ideas, and actions?

Aren't we always being observed by unseen mischievously curious wee ones, who would emulate every sinful or dangerous thing we do?

What about our ancestors and deceased loved ones who observe us from the other side of the veil?

What of the myriad unborn spirits waiting to enter mortality?

What of the angels and the gods, even our Heavenly Father?

Are they not our audience?

Are we not performing for them?

Are we not the hero of our own show?

Similarly, we are also the sidekick, love interest, victim, and villain in other people's personal productions.

My own movie is an epic production with a cast of thousands and a budget of millions, but due to a contract dispute, I have yet to collect any royalties or residuals.

And, does anyone know why my leading lady hasn't shown up on the set?

I got a kick out of this movie, and I reckon you will, too.

The only objectionable thing was that the engaged couple lived together.

But, in this world we now live in, such misconduct ain't hardly noticable, is it?

So, parents, please remember to watch the movie WITH your young'uns, and make sure BOTH Mommy and Daddy are there, so the kids get a balanced commentary when you are passing on life's lessons.

I urge you to do that with ALL movies, because Hollywood and public schools can no longer be trusted with your children and your values.

"THE MOVIE HERO" is an entertaining film that will make you think.

Pass the popcorn, please.

Thank you.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

"POWER TO THE PEOPLE"

Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Earlier, I shared with you my personal observations of the events on Saint Patrick's Day.

My view was limited, thus my report was also limited.

Here is a much broader observation from someone who saw a lot more than I did.

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POWER TO THE PEOPLE

BY: JACK LANGAR
Monday 19 March 2007

I could tell right away this wasn't going to be your average Washington D.C. anti-war protest.

For months, the anti-war coalition International A.N.S.W.E.R. had been publicizing its plans to hold a major anti-war rally in the nation's capital on Saturday, March 17. However, reaching the protest staging site next to the Lincoln Memorial at 11:00 -- an hour before the protestors were slated to begin marching to the Pentagon -- I found the field nearly empty. Across the street stood several thousand counter-demonstrators, mostly comprised of Vietnam War veterans associated with various biker clubs. Wearing leather jackets emblazoned with organization names like "Rolling Thunder," "Legacy Vets," and "Combat Veterans of America Motorcycle Club," the vets had turned out to stand guard at the Vietnam Wall and other monuments after some sites were desecrated at an anti-war rally in January. The vets were a grizzled, tough-looking lot, and their presence seemed to surprise the handful of Chinese tourists snapping photos in the area.

Across the street, the war protestors were arriving late with their usual collection of Che Guevara banners, placards decrying American imperialism, and bizarre signs denouncing the 9/11 attacks as a government-orchestrated conspiracy. Some tables were set up offering books and pamphlets advocating socialism while a few enterprising capitalists worked the crowd, briskly selling T-shirts commemorating the march. As they arrived, the protestors were entertained by a DJ who, we were informed over the loudspeakers, was from Puerto Rico – "the first country invaded by the U.S." He played the Edwin Starr protest classic "War (What is it good for?)" several dozen times, it seemed, then launched into James Brown's "I'm Black and I'm Proud," as the mostly white crowd sang along.

Eventually, around 15,000 protestors arrived -- appearing to me about the same number as attended the January anti-war rally..This must have been a severe disappointment to A.N.S.W.E.R., which had drawn upwards of 100,000 people to previous protests. The poor turnout at this year's rallies can largely be attributed to a schism between A.N.S.W.E.R. and the other main anti-war coalition, United for Peace and Justice. The two groups used to sponsor these rallies together, but have recently ceased cooperating.

Their dispute stems from two factors. First, there was some squabbling over the amount of time given to each group's speakers at past rallies -- a surprising bit of selfishness from people who drive cars with bumper stickers proclaiming that everything they need to know they learned in kindergarten. Second, there was a disagreement over the Israel-Palestine issue. Apparently, A.N.S.W.E.R.'s position is that the Jews should be driven into the sea, while UPJ, being slightly more moderate, seeks to convince the Jews through peaceful dialogue to throw themselves in.

Before setting off for the Pentagon, the war protestors were addressed by a few speakers. The veterans watched quietly from just across the street until Cindy Sheehan was introduced. Even before she denounced President Bush as "the greatest terrorist in the world," the mention of Sheehan's name elicited from the vets a rigorous round of booing the likes of which is rarely heard outside the confines of a Philadelphia Eagles home game.

Finally, the march began. It was a motley collection of organizations and interest groups. The parade was led by a collection of anti-war military veterans, followed by the radical feminists of Code Pink. Then came a group of "drummers" who were really just banging sticks on the bottom of some empty pails, succeeded by the mandatory contingent of masked anarchists. Further back were lots of hippie-throwbacks, a good number of college students, some refugee from an anarchist rodeo twirling a lasso around himself, and a variety of people waving Lebanese and Palestinian flags. There were a few American flags as well, although nearly all of these were defaced with peace signs, political slogans, or sardonic renditions of corporate symbols.

The counter-demonstrators lined the first few hundred yards of the parade route, sometimes on both sides. Waving American flags, the vets gave the marchers a generally good heckling; "Go impress your professors!" was my favorite epithet. Despite their fetish for the right to "dissent," the war protestors are unaccustomed to opposition, aside perhaps from a lone College Republican or two that might show up with an American flag at a campus protest. But these counter-demonstrators were different. They were combat veterans who still bristle at the memory of being jeered by these kinds of radicals when they returned from Vietnam. The marchers seemed not only nervous, but even ashamed -- to prove their patriotism to the vets, they began chanting "U.S.A.! U.S.A.!" This was probably the first time that chant has ever been heard at an anti-war rally.

I fell in with the anarchists, since that's where the action usually is. There were around 100 of them, although the number of face piercings exceeded that by a factor of 10, even with most of their nose rings and tongue rings hidden by masks and bandanas. Their banners proclaimed slogans like "Destroy all government" and "No war but class war." The vets yelled out to them "Come over here!" and "Show your faces!" Declining either invitation, the anarchists responded by chanting "Whose streets? Our streets!"

But the chant lacked conviction, seeing as the only thing protecting the anarchists from a smackdown by the vets was the line of police officers separating the two sides. I spotted a group of four anarchists carrying an upside down American flag and wondered how far they'd get with it. It turned out to be about 50 yards. Then, a vet managed to infiltrate the parade and snatched the flag from them, causing all four members of the revolutionary vanguard to run scurrying away.

After parading through this gauntlet of counter-protestors, the rest of the march was pretty subdued. I walked back toward a portable loudspeaker surrounded by Palestinian flags. A speaker was leading a chant of "Stop bombing Lebanon!", which I found strange, since no one is bombing Lebanon. The chanting stopped when the microphone was passed to a Middle Eastern woman whose accent was so thick that no one could understand what they were supposed to be protesting. Finally, they agreed on singing another refrain of "War," which seemed to be their automatic fallback position for almost any unexpected situation.

We arrived at the Pentagon parking lot, where a DJ was again playing "War." I couldn't take the song anymore, so I wandered off in search of the anarchists. I found them at the end of a bridge leading to the Pentagon itself. They were facing a line of police officers in full riot gear, replete with gas masks. "Whose streets? Our streets!" rang out again, but it was pretty clear whose streets these were, since the anarchists weren't allowed to keep marching forward on them.

The police announced through a bullhorn that they'd use teargas if the protestors didn't return to the parking lot. In response, a female-looking anarchist in dreadlocks yelled out to me and some other reporters nearby, asking if we'd help get the word out that the police, without cause, had gassed peaceful protestors. "No!" I instinctively yelled back, eliciting some shocked stares from the anarchists. Another anarchist approached us and asked if we'd stand between them and the police to prevent the cops from "attacking" them. He pointed to one elderly female reporter: "You ma'am, if you get in the middle, there's no way the police will knock you over." The request caught me off guard -- I was unaware that old women are used as human shields anywhere outside of the Middle East.

The group sat down in front of the police to decide what to do. Some people passed out food, at which point most of the anarchists removed their masks and bandanas to eat, then put them back on when they had finished. My respect for this bunch was rapidly declining.

They took a series of votes, decided to leave the bridge to the police, and backed off about 20 yards. Then, in one final act of "resistance" before vacating the bridge, one of them burned an American flag, to the cheers of all the rest. This incident went unreported in all of the mainstream media, despite the presence on the bridge of numerous journalists and photographers.

Walking home, I reflected on what the anti-war movement has degenerated into -- a squabbling collection of aging socialists, pro-Palestinian militants, and cowardly anarchists. The Vietnam vets -- who were there just to protect our monuments and show support for the troops -- had a surprising effect on the protestors. "Fight back! Fight back!" was one of the protestors' slogans. But it was all talk. When confronted by people who actually fought and bled for their country, the protestors grew sheepish and embarrassed -- I would even say humiliated.

I couldn't help but notice that the anarchists – the supposed hardcore fringe of the movement – waited until they were safely out of range of the veterans to burn a flag. Afraid of the vets, afraid of the cops, they don't seem to be good for much other than occasionally smashing storefront windows when there's no one else around.

"Whose streets? Our streets!", they chanted. Not on Saturday they weren't.


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I'm glad our gathering of war veterans was able to make a difference.

I'm also glad I got to be a small part of it.

Thank you.


John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Sunday, March 18, 2007

After Action Report

Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Yesterday, I went downtown to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day by participating in a massive counter protest demonstration near the Viet Nam Memorial.

I teamed up with John Smith, another resident here at the Old Soldiers' Home, a retired Marine, who is also a retired deputy sheriff, and we took a taxi down to Constitution Park.

It was colder and windier than we expected, but wow, you should have seen the crowd!

Veterans and supporters had gathered from all over the country, most of them appearing to be bikers, many of them appearing to be Marines, and of course, the Cavalry and Airborne were well represented.

There were also plenty of Air Force and Navy veterans.

John Smith was especially pleased to see so many Marines, as it is the smallest of the military services, but possibly was the most represented at this event.

There were thousands and thousands of us, scattered all over everywhere!

There were zillions of United States flags planted or hung up, but many of the flags had to be taken down because the wind was fouling things up and scattering flags everywhere.

One blonde lady was walking around carrying a large Australian banner.

She said she wasn't Australian, but was carrying the flag for a friend, or something like that.

I wondered if she were part of the International War Veterans Poetry Archives on the Internet, and she said she knew about the group, but wasn't a member.

For the benefit of readers, I have many of my own original song lyrics, stories, and poems, with photographs, posted on the Internet at the International War Veterans Poetry Archives.

The web site was created and is maintained by Anthony Pahl, an Australian veteran of Viet Nam, and a good friend who has visited here at the Old Soldiers' Home.

I was surprised at how muddy the ground was, like walking around in a corral back at the ranch.

I wore my jump boots, with my trousers tucked in, so I did okay, but my partner had worn shoes, which he regretted.

I was concerned that a disabled veteran on a battery powered vehicle would get stuck in that mud or flip over on the hillside, but he seemed to have no trouble.

It was pretty neat meeting veterans of obscure units I had served with, such as Combat Developments Experimentation Command (CDEC) or Phu Lam Signal Battalion.

Nobody ever heard of those outfits unless they were assigned there, and this was the first time I'd run into anyone else who had been in either unit.

I also enjoyed the camaraderie of fellow Airborne and Cavalry troopers, as we recognized each other by our wings or stetsons.

I wore my Army field jacket and nomex flight gloves to protect me from the cold, with my air assault wings pinned on my chest, and Seventh Cavalry insignia and combat team leader tabs on my epaulets.

On my head, was my Cavalry stetson, and Prince of Wales spurs were strapped to my jump boots.

Few of us had really dressed up, because we were mostly prepared for a fight, as the anti-war protestors had threatened to vandalize war memorials and attack war veterans.

John Smith spent most of his time chatting with fellow Marines, one of whom, like himself, was also a retired deputy sheriff.

I had taken my guitar, but it was much too cold, so I never took it out of the case.

I also brought my canteen, and that came in handy.

John had brought sandwiches, and handing them out to me and his old friend, the three of us enjoyed a lunch.

One lady gave us American flags and another lady gave us FDNY - NYPD commemorative pins.

I was appreciative of their generosity, but I really wanted to keep my hands free, so I eventually stuck the flag in the ground among all the other flags.

Apparently, the Viet Nam Memorial was being VERY closely guarded by the National Park Service, with everyone being compelled to go through metal detectors and being subjected to body scans.

War protestors began gathering over at one of the entrances to the park, some of them merging in among the war veterans to instigate confrontations.

I didn't see everything that went on, but I did see the Park Police come running up in riot gear to order the anti-war crowd to stay away from our area.

Some of the anti-war protestors who had gone in among the war veterans had their signs seized and smashed, and properly terrified, they fled the area, yelling for police.

But, of course, the police were rather unsympathetic, since the anti-war radicals had been asking for trouble.

I noticed the old war veterans were making friends with the police, for many of them were bikers, and they were engaged in enthusiastic discussion with the motorcycle cops, comparing the qualities of different machines.

Also, John Smith and his friend, both retired lawmen, talked shop with one of the officers, comparing notes about working conditions and retirement plans.

As the anti-war crowd began walking over to their staging area, the veterans lined the route, yelling, "U S A !!! U S A !!!", and taunting or admonishing the anti-war crowd, some of whom carried obscene signs that couldn't be shown on television or in newspapers, or gestured and yelled vulgarities and profanities.

One fellow carried a photograph of his son who had been killed in battle, and war veterans politely expressed condolences.

Another anti-war protestor was wearing the new battle fatigue uniform, and was covered with fake blood, with a massive head wound, which really angered the war veterans.

The anti-war crowd was very theatrical, with lots of costumes and huge paper-mache heads (if I'm saying that correctly).

Obviously, they were well funded and highly organized.

I didn't notice any Hollywood celebrities, but I probably wouldn't have recognized them if I had seen them.

Still, most of the war veterans were well-behaved, and there didn't seem to be an immediate threat to any memorial, not with the obvious tight police presence.

So, after a few hours, with no assigned duties and no perceived threat, John Smith and I decided we'd had enough of being cold, and we went searching for a nice Irish pub.

I'm not familiar with the pubs, but he was, so we first attempted to go to "THE IRISH TIMES", and then to "THE DUBLINER".

But because it was Saint Patrick's Day, both establishments required ten bucks just to go in the door, which infuriated John.

Finally, we found a place near Union Station, the "CAPITOL CITY BREWERY".

We sat down at the bar, and while John Smith enjoyed his pints, Sean the bartender, served me bottles of "BUCKLER", a non-alcoholic beer from Holland.

It was pleasant seeing everyone having a grand day, and yes, I did love looking at the comely colleens.

After three rounds, one of which was on the house, we walked over to Union Station and took a taxi back to the Soldiers' Home.

Back in my room, I turned on my computer and the television to see what news there was of our activities downtown.

There was very little mention, if any, of the war veterans and the Gathering of Eagles.

Almost all the pictures I saw and virtually all the detailed news coverage was focused on the anti-war protestors, not only in Washington, D.C., but in foreign lands such as Spain, Greece, Turkey, Australia, and Korea.

Currently, you can watch a brief "YOU TUBE" video of the Gathering of Eagles event at the Gathering of Eagles web site.

Actually, even the news of the anti-war protests seemed to have been preempted by news about airliners grounded by winter storms.

I hope you all had as much fun as I did yesterday.

Maybe I'll go back down there when the weather is warm, and I can be alone.

Thank You.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Monday, March 12, 2007

My KILT Is On The Way!!!

Clansmen, Kith, and Kin:

I just now called J. Higgins, Ltd. in Kansas City.

They're shipping my kilt to me TOMORROW!!!!

Boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!!!

I don't know how long it will take to actually get here, nor how they ship it.

I doubt it will be here before Saturday.

But, at least, I'll be able to wear it for National Tartan Day and the Celtic Festival of Southern Maryland.

Gosh, gee whillikers, ain't that some kind of something?

Thank you.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Probable Violence on Saint Patrick's Day

Comrades in Arms:

I just now went to the official GATHERING OF EAGLES web site, and according to the latest information, we do indeed face a VERY dangerous situation at the Viet Nam Memorial this coming Saint Patrick's Day.

Why?

Folks, this is utterly unbelievable.

The United States Park Police is now granting permission to the anti-war protestors to gather at the Viet Nam Memorial, and completely surround the war veterans.

(Please refer to the map posted at the web site)

Because of their threats to vandalize memorials and attack elderly war veterans, I had thought the anti-war protestors were going to be kept at least two (02) blocks away from ALL war memorials.

At least, that WAS what the United States Park Police had previously indicated.

To make our situation even worse, the portable toilets and emergency medical care are now to be stationed two (02) blocks away (or maybe further - - - I'm a little confused about exactly where).

Folks, some of us Viet Nam veterans have aged (I'm sixty-one years old), and we NEED those toilets close by - - - and for our crowd of thousands, we'll need plenty of them!

Not only that, but with the obvious geriatric concerns, ambulances and paramedics should be standing by at the scene.

Why would the United States Park Police WANT to deliberately instigate a violent confrontation between the anti-war protestors and elderly war veterans?

Is it possible that some official from the United States Park Police has accepted a bribe from a television network, hoping for shocking evening news film of youthful protestors beating up decorated old veterans, and uniformed police beating up both protestors and veterans?

What other scenario makes sense?

This is kind of like the Chicago riots of 1968, huh?

We've got less than one week left.

I sure hope somebody is making some last minute telephone calls.

By the way, I also noticed at the official GATHERING OF EAGLES web site that numerous chartered buses are coming here from all over America, and local hotels are now fully booked for visiting war veterans.

This is going to be one bodacious event!

Gosh, gee whillikers, I sure hope you folks do NOT see me on television.

I really don't want any trouble.

Thank you.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Disabled War Vet Saves Drowning Dog With CPR

Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Are you a dog lover?

I love dogs, especially if they're grilled, and served with chili and mustard.

I just now saw this report from the Reuters News Service, and I just have to share it.

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VETERAN SAVES HIS DROWNING DOG WITH CPR

DISABLED FORMER AIRMAN RESCUES TEN MONTH OLD ENGLISH BULLDOG FROM LAKE


CHICAGO -------
If a dog is man's best friend, a disabled United States Air Force veteran showed the feeling is mutual by saving his drowning pet with mouth to snout Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation.
Lucy, a ten month old English bulldog, chased ducks into a partly frozen lake near Randy Gurchin's home in Papillion, Nebraska, but quickly became paralyzed in the icy water and briefly went under.
The fifty pound dog was unresponsive and had a blue face and bloody foam around its muzzle when Gurchin, who flew combat missions over Iraq and Afghanistan, edged onto the ice.
"The ice started to crack under me.
I just picked her up," he said.
"I thought she was dead."
But Gurchin, fifty one years old, put his military first aid training to use.
He closed Lucy's mouth, put his mouth over her nose and started forcing air into her lungs and pushing on her chest.
Within minutes, the dog began breathing shallowly and was rushed to a nearby veterinarian.
Doctors soaked Lucy in warm water, injected steroids and muscle relaxants, and put her in an oxygen chamber.
She has since made a full recovery.
"Our little Lucy is back," said Gurchin's wife, Kelley.
Her husband, who retired from the military with a back injury in Two Thousand Five, and walks with a cane, has vowed not to let the dog out of his sight, she said.
"He would never say he loved her until this rescue mission," she said.

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Ain't that something?

All together now, let's hear a big long - - -

"Awwwww!!!"

Don't that just give you the warm fuzzies?

Thank You.


John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

More "GATHERING OF EAGLES" Stuff

Comrades in Arms:

Here is the OFFICIAL web site for the "Gathering of Eagles" on Saint Patrick's Day, Saturday 17 March 2007, at the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington, D.C.:


http://gatheringofeagles.org/


Buses loaded with military veterans and their supporters are coming to Washington, D. C. from all over the country in response to the scheduled massive anti-war protest, as the various war memorials are being threatened with possible vandalism, which the veterans are determined to protect.

Here are web sites describing who our enemies are, and revealing some of their tactics:


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_bloc

http://thelastpuritan.gnn.tv/

http://answer.pephost.org/site/PageServer?pagename=ANS_homepage

http://www.codepink4peace.org/


Here are a couple of nice videos you'll enjoy watching:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=coRz44cVE4E

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-mc62gx6_k&NR


I plan on being there.

I reckon I'll take my guitar, with a couple of sandwiches, and a canteen of water, and I'll probably dress up in my Sunday best, with my medals, spurs, Cavalry stetson, and of course, toting my trusty shillelagh.

After all, it IS Saint Patrick's Day!

I hope there's enough portable latrines set up for the thousands of elderly war veterans who are going to be there.

When you get to be our age (Viet Nam veterans), that latrine needs to be kept pretty close by!

Normally, I would never leave my room here at the Soldiers' Home, but fortunately, a couple of old buddies are going, so I'm going along with them.

Isn't it odd that the administration here at the Soldiers' Home won't officially support this effort?

But, that's normal politically correct behavior for career government bureaucrats.

I hope we have nice weather that day.

Thank you.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Please Monger The Rumors

Greetings and Salutations to All my Kith and Kin and All the Ships in Outer Space:

Well, as many of you know, I'm quite the solitary recluse, preferring to stay within my room here at the Old Soldiers' Home, and I almost never go anywhere.

Since I have a refrigerator and microwave, I buy goodies from the PX and eat in my room.

Thus, it's been a long time since I've been to the mess hall.

Likewise, because of crowded unsanitary conditions, perceived racial animosity, and intolerable bureaucracy, I avoid going on sick call, even when I really need to.

It's difficult for me to go on sick call, which is always held only in the mornings, because I can't sleep at night, not even when I dope myself up with handfuls of pills.

Instead, I usually fall asleep just before dawn, and when it's time to go somewhere, I'm too overwhelmed with depression to get out of bed and face other human beings.

But today, after many days of procrastination, I finally went on sick call to renew my prescriptions.

I took two (02) volumes of my most challenging crossword and codeword puzzles, so I would have some way to occupy my mind while I waited for hours and hours.

Also, because I don't like people getting too close to me, I always try to look as mean and wicked as possible, deliberately snarling at everyone, hoping they will keep their distance.

Anyway, I couldn't believe what happened this morning on sick call.

I saw the doctor IMMEDIATELY, with absolutely NO waiting!!!

I couldn't believe it.

Also, instead of the normal employees, student medics from Walter Reed Army Medical Center took my vital signs, and I was happy to see the regular United States Army personnel being actively involved in the Old Soldiers' Home.

At chow time, I went to the mess hall and the chow line was unbelievably long, and not moving.

Since I hadn't been to the mess hall in a very long time, I asked one of my fellow residents, a retired WAC sergeant major who served at Long Binh, Viet Nam, if what I was seeing was normal.

She said that every meal was like that now, because the mess hall and the entire Soldiers' Home was severely contaminated with norovirus.

With that huge crowd and that long long long line, I gave up and left the mess hall, choosing to buy a burger and ice cream in the PX.

Gee, I can't afford to keep doing that!

Someone else told me that the norovirus epidemic was why Walter Reed Army Medical Center was investigating conditions at the Soldiers' Home.

Apparently, the virus is STILL raging, with hundreds of people getting sick, and some residents so affected, they are quarantined, and not allowed to leave their rooms.

Yes, some have died.

I noticed a couple of guys I know had their pictures posted on the board announcing recent deaths.

As I was conversing with another resident, someone else came by and said that so and so (I didn't know this person) had died this morning.

In my room, I listen to this stuff all the time on my amateur radio, with ambulances continuously rolling in and out of the Soldiers' Home.

On the news, I saw that a couple of hotels in Virginia had shut down because a hundred guests had become sick with norovirus.

We've had many times that number get sick here at the Soldiers' Home, some are still sick, and some have died, but there hasn't been any mention of it in the news, or at least, I haven't seen it mentioned.

I must admit I seldom watch or read local news, because I really want nothing to do with Washington, D.C.

If it weren't for the Old Soldiers' Home, I wouldn't be here at all, and if I can scrounge up enough money, I'm leaving here the first chance I get.

I reckon it's a good thing I buy goodies and snack in my room.

I have been sick, but not with norovirus - - - yet.

I had a pretty bad respiratory problem for a few days, but now I'm once again able to talk and sing - - - when I'm not too depressed to pick up my guitar and practice.

However, I still have difficulty inhaling a full breath, and after singing only a few songs, I begin coughing and choking.

Still, I'm slowly making progress.

I spoke with another friend about our planned participation in the Gathering of Eagles down at the Viet Nam Memorial on Saint Patrick's Day.

We plan to take a cab to Catholic University, and then ride Metro Rail down to the Viet Nam Memorial.

I attempted to obtain transportation for our Gathering of Eagles volunteers from the administration here at the Soldiers' Home, but I knew those politically correct cowards would just ignore me.

For any of you who don't already know, the Gathering of Eagles is a formal organized gathering by Viet Nam veterans and supporters to protect the Viet Nam Memorial from being vandalized by thousands of anti-war protestors on Saturday 17 March 2007.

Someone just now told me of a big Scottish celebration on Saturday 07 April 2007 in Old Town Alexandria, so I hope my kilt gets here in time so I can wear it!

They're observing National Tartan Day, which commemorates the signing of the Declaration of Arbroath on 06 April 1320.

The only other significant news was when I looked out my window yesterday and noticed all the radioactive fallout coming down.

Shucks, I never even heard the thermonuclear explosion.

Anyway, the sun is shining, but there's still a few patches of radioactive fallout on the ground, although most of it has dissipated.

Yes, it has to be radioactive fallout, for it doesn't snow here in March.

Hey, we didn't get to have a white Christmas, did we?

I'm sure it's radioactive fallout.

Any moment now, an enemy submarine should be surfacing in our fishing pond, and enemy amphibious troops will assault our golf course.

So, there's the latest rumors and gossip from the Old Soldiers' Home.

How much of what I wrote is true and factually reliable?

Hey, I'm just passing on vicious unfounded rumors, not reporting the news!

So, go monger the mill, y'all.

Thank You.

John Robert "SAIGON" Mallernee, KB3KWS
Official Bard of Clan Henderson
Armed Forces Retirement Home
Washington, D.C. 20011-8400

NOTE: "My unpopular and controversial personal opinions are independent of my Scottish clan."