A Scottish Christmas Carol

Mo Cinneadh Agus Mo Chairdean:

Here is a video of me singing a Christmas carol I composed.

"Nollaig Chridheil" in Scottish Gaelic means, "Christmas Hearty!", and is pronounced, "Nol-leek Kree-yell".

Unfortunately, the crackling flames of the fireplace on my television monitor are not being detected or recorded by my digital camera.

Well, at least, you get to see my Christmas tree, and I will still enjoy my crackling fireplace, whether or not my camera can show it.

For those who do speak Scottish Gaelic, I apologize for my mistakes.

Even though my Gaelic isn't correct, a Gaelic teacher said I'm permitted to use creative license as a songwriter.

Another Gaelic teacher did give me the more correct words, but the amended version wouldn't fit the rhythm of the music.

Tapadh leibh agus slainte mhath!

Is Mise Le Meas,

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."

Photos From Parade

Me, Waiting For Parade To Begin

Shooting The Breeze

Hurry Up And Wait

Me, Lost In The Crowd

First Signal Brigade On The March

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

Attached to this message are five (05) photographs, in JPG format, of myself and the First Signal Brigade in the recent parade in Washington, D.C., commemorating the Twenty-Fifth Anniversary of the Viet Nam Memorial.

There are a lot more pictures, but these are just a few.

They originated with Chuck Valens, who did the photography, and were relayed to me by Howard Hickman, who created and maintains the Phu Lam Signal Battalion web site.

You'll notice I wore my Clan Henderson kilt for this historic military event.

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."

The Old Soldiers' Home

Sheridan Building, Where I Live

Soldiers' Home Founder, General Winfield Scott

Sherman Building

Comrades in Arms:

In response to a request from an individual on the Internet, here is some information about the Old Soldiers' Home in Washington, D.C.

It used to be called the United States Soldiers' and Airmen's Home, but is now called the Armed Forces Retirement Home-Washington.

The Naval Home in Gulfport, Mississippi, known as the Armed Forces Retirement Home-Gulfport, was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina, and all of their residents were moved to the Soldiers' Home in Washington, D.C.

I don't understand why these bureaucrats include the unnecessary "Washington" or "Gulfport" in the "Armed Forces Retirement Home" name.

Do they really think folks will be that confused?

The Soldiers' Home is supported by a small automatic monthly deduction from each soldier's pay, plus any fines and forfeitures resulting from military punishment.

Life here used to be a LOT better!

Unfortunately, administrative efforts to lower expenses have drastically lowered the quality of life and the level of medical care.

Further, the Soldiers' Home is located in a very dangerous neighborhood.

A major problem with life in Washington, D.C. is racial, but no one dares talk about that, and the administration here at the Soldiers' Home would never approve of me writing about it.

Therefore, our racial issues continue to fester and worsen, as you can't fix something if you won't admit it exists.

They are currently rebuilding the Naval Home in Gulfport, Mississippi, and I have signed up to transfer down there.

The Naval Home is scheduled to reopen in July 2010.

All enlisted rank military retirees and disabled combat veterans are entitled to live in either of the Armed Forces Retirement Homes, regardless of which service they were in.

Commissioned and warrant officers also can live here, provided at least half, or ten (10) years, of their service was in the enlisted ranks.

As for me, I am well off.

My furnished private room, with toilet and shower, is quite comfortable.

I have a refrigerator and microwave for fixing meals.

I have a large, wide screen, high definition television, which is also my desktop computer monitor, and I can relax in my upholstered rocker recliner.

We get good meals in our mess hall, with all we want to eat.

We have a small Post Exchange, a post office, bowling alley, gymnasium, theatre, library, computer center, automotive hobby shop, woodworking shop, ceramics shop, amateur radio club (FCC call sign: AF3RH), canteens, golf course, fishing ponds, and a bar.

The bar is actually named the Scott Lounge, but everybody calls it the "Snake Pit".

We do have a medical clinic, dentist, and optometrist, but they are understaffed, ill equipped, and utterly overwhelmed.

Our pharmacy works pretty efficiently, as our drugs are issued by Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

We used to have our own hospital here on the grounds, but it was closed down to save costs.

We also have our own National Military Cemetery, which is older than Arlington National Cemetery, and is administered by them.

A sad thing that has happened is the loss of our mortuary and mortician.

Now, when someone dies, we don't get to say goodbye or even know what happens to them, as bodies are sent to local contractors.

Remember, this is a BAD (i.e., very substandard) neighborhood!

Thus, bodies of our deceased residents have actually been lost.

On my amateur radio, I listen to the ambulances constantly going in and out of the Soldiers' Home, hauling away the dead and those who are about to die.

Those who can still walk or have any resources are looking for ways to leave this place.

But, it's not all bad.

The Soldiers' Home is a beautiful place, very historic, with a nice scenic overlook of the Capitol dome and the Washington Monument, although that view will soon be blocked.

Four (04) United States Presidents have used this place as their Summer residence.

Abraham Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation here, and his boys would climb in our trees, and reputedly carved their initials.

There were a couple of assassination attempts while President Lincoln was staying here, and his wife was hospitalized here, after being thrown from her carriage.

On warm sunny days, it's really neat listening to our carillon in the clock tower playing military service melodies.

Flagrantly ignoring all rules, everybody makes pets of the pigeons, squirrels, and raccoons.

In a major betrayal by the Soldiers' Home administration, much of our land has been sold off to developers, who will use it to build embassies and condominiums.

At the moment, there are major redesigns and renovations underway, so I'm not sure what the future bodes.

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."

After Action Report

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

Yesterday, I marched in the parade with veterans of the First Signal Brigade.

You should have seen the reaction when I first arrived at the hotel, and climbed out of the taxicab!

I had dressed up in my kilt and plaid, with full-sized medals fastened to my tunic, and carrying my cromach (a long, stout wooden hiking stick).

A whole bunch of folks took my picture, over and over and over!

Several of the folks wanted to have their picture taken with me.

Wearing the kilt also generated comments and questions about Scotland and Scottish heritage.

I loved the comments from the wee little tykes along the route.

One of the wee ones says, "See? I told you men can wear skirts and fight!"

Another wee one asked, "Daddy, why is that man wearing a skirt?"

Of course, everybody is wondering what is worn beneath the kilt?

So, of course, I told them.

"This is a kilt - - - if I wore anything underneath, it would be a skirt."

Fortunately, in spite of the weatherman's predictions, it did NOT rain on our parade.

But, it was quite chilly, with an overcast sky.

The most difficult part of the parade was standing around for hours and hours, waiting for it to start.

Before leaving the Soldiers' Home, I had taken a double dose of medication to suppress pain and relax my muscles.

So, I was very thirsty, and there was nothing to drink.

I had brought some chewing gum for just that purpose, but forgot I had brought it, so I never took out a stick or two to moisten my mouth.

There were portable toilets available, but I never saw one, so I just had to hold it in - - - for hours!

At one point, as we stood around waiting, a gal began singing the National Anthem.

Of course, we all did "Present Arms!", as I kept wondering, "Where's the flag? What are we saluting?"

At the conclusion of the National Anthem, we returned to "Order Arms!", and the announcer informed us that it was just a sound check.

There were a lot of interesting entries in the parade.

I saw three other men wearing kilts.

I went to talk with them, but lost them in the crowd.

I also saw lots of guys from the 101st Airborne Division, another unit I served with in Viet Nam, but I only talked with a few of them, and none that I met were from the local chapter.

There were a whole bunch of American Indians from the Navajo Nation.

There were lots of motorcycles, some Army deuce and half trucks, and even an Air Force Security Police dog, plus plenty of high school marching bands.

Eventually, we began marching, straggling along and milling about, not looking very military at all.

But, that's because every one of us had gotten old, and many were impaired by injuries.

The remarkable thing is that not one person fell out of the march.

As we turned onto Constitution Avenue, we were met by the folks from Westboro Baptist Church, in Topeka, Kansas, waving protest signs and jeering at us.

As I understand it, they say God is punishing America, because of homosexuality, and that's why our soldiers are dying.

The irony is that the very folks the Westboro Baptist Church were yelling at, the American war veterans, probably agreed with them, and were ardently opposed to homosexuality.

Anyway, we kept on marching, and did an "Eyes Right!" at the reviewing stand.

We probably marched a little over a mile, and our buses were waiting for us.

I was glad to get back on that bus and sit down!

Boy, did I hurt, and was I ever tired!

Still, I enjoyed the day and the company.

There were a lot of activities and shows still going on, but I was bushed, and only wanted to get back to my room at the Soldiers' Home.

I bought a nice souvenir polo shirt and baseball cap, each of them black and emblazoned with the insignia of the First Signal Brigade, and the words, "Phu Lam Signal Bn", and "Viet Nam 62 - 72".

Even though lots and lots of folks took my picture, I don't have any copies.

That also happened last year, on National Tartan Day, when I wore my brand new kilt for the very first time, with all my full-sized medals on my jacket.

I think I'm going to order some business cards, so when folks take my picture, I can give them a card, and they can send me a copy of the picture.

I reckon wearing a kilt and a bunch of medals is photogenic, and does cause quite a stir.

But, I've told the other guys there ain't nothing that looks more military than wearing a Highland kilt.

Today, we residents at the Soldiers' Home are getting a free meal in our mess hall.

(In case you don't get my sense of humor, I'm making a joke!)

Ooh!

I just now got a phone call!

I'm going to have a visitor this evening!

One of the members of an Internet forum, the International War Veterans' Poetry Archives, plans to stop here and see me.

So, I reckon I'd better spruce myself up, and put on a coat and tie.

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."

A Living Argument Against Abortion

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

Here is a news report from the DAILY MAIL newspaper in England:

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WE'RE TWINSEPARABLE! HAPPY WITH HIS BROTHER, THE BOY WHO REFUSED TO DIE

By: LUCY LAING

They say twins share a strong bond - - - but the one between Gabriel and Ieuan Jones was unbreakable.

When doctors found that Gabriel was weaker than his brother, with an enlarged heart, and believed he was going to die in the womb, his mother, Rebecca Jones, had to make a heartbreaking decision.

Doctors told her his death could cause his twin brother to die too before they were born, and that it would be better to end Gabriel's suffering sooner rather than later.

Mrs. Jones decided to let doctors operate to terminate Gabriel's life.

Firstly they tried to sever his umbilical cord to cut off his blood supply, but the cord was too strong.

They then cut Mrs. Jones's placenta in half so that when Gabriel died, it would not affect his twin brother.

But after the operation which was meant to end his life, tiny Gabriel had other ideas.

Although he weighed less than a pound, he put up such a fight for survival that doctors called him, "Rocky".

Astonishingly, he managed to carry on living in his mother's womb for another five weeks - - - until the babies were delivered by caesarean section.

Now he and Ieuan are back at home in Stoke - - - and are so close, they are always holding each other's hand.

Mrs. Jones, thirty-five years old, a financial adviser, whose husband, Mark, thirty-six years old, is a car salesman, said:

"It really is a miracle.

Doctors carried out an operation to let Gabriel die - - - yet, he hung on.

It was unbelievable.

When I felt him kicking madly the morning after the operation, I suddenly knew that he was going to hang on.

The doctors couldn't believe it when they could still hear his heartbeat the next morning."

Mrs. Jones learned she was expecting twins when she was ten weeks pregnant.

She said:

"When they told us, we were over the moon."

But at her twenty week scan, doctors had some devastating news.

One of the boys was half the size of his brother.

They didn't know what was causing it, but somehow, he wasn't getting enough nutrients.

Then, doctors said his heart was three times normal size and it was likely he would have a heart attack or a stroke in the womb.

Mrs. Jones said:

"They told us that if he died, it could be life threatening for his brother.

We had to decide whether to end his life and let his brother live, or risk them both."

The doctors said it would be impossible to keep him alive afterwards as he was so poorly.

It would be kinder to let him die in the womb with his brother by his side than to die alone after being born.

"That made my mind up for me.

I wanted the best thing for him."

At Birmingham Women's Hospital, when Mrs. Jones was twenty-five weeks pregnant, doctors tried to sever Gabriel's umbilical cord to cut off his blood supply and allow him to die.

But the cord was too thick, and they could not cut through it.

As a last resort they divided Mrs. Jones's placenta so that when Gabriel died, it would allow Ieuan to survive.

Mrs. Jones said:

"I put my hands on my stomach thinking of Gabriel.

It was devastating.

I had said my goodbyes."

But the next morning, Mrs. Jones felt Gabriel kicking.

A scan showed his heart was still beating.

She said:

"No one could quite believe it."

Gabriel hung on, and his enlarged heart started to reduce in size.

He also gained weight.

Mrs. Jones said:

"They thought it may be because the placenta had been divided.

Inadvertently, it had evened out the distribution of nutrition between them, allowing Gabriel to survive."

When Mrs. Jones reached thirty-one weeks, doctors carried out a caesarian to deliver the twins.

Ieuan weighed three pounds, eight ounces and Gabriel one pound, fifteen ounces.

Both were kept in hospital, but since going home, they have thrived.

At seven months, Ieuan weighs fifteen pounds and Gabriel twelve and a half pounds.

Mrs. Jones said:

"The boys are so healthy, they have huge appetites too.

Ieuan is the noisy one, while Gabriel is always laughing, it's like he's just so happy to be here.

There is such a strong bond between them.

They are always holding hands and if one cries, the other reaches out to comfort him.

Doctors tried to break their bond in the womb, but they just proved it couldn't be broken."

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Now, is that not the most powerful argument against abortion that you ever saw?

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."