Swapping a Deserter for Five War Criminals

I won't speculate as to why the president felt it was necessary to release five very nasty war criminals from Guantanamo in exchange for the release of an American soldier who deserted his post and his comrades. Sadly, there also seems to be fairly strong evidence that Sgt Bergdahl engaged in some level of collaboration with the enemy. As one wag observed, "We traded five grenades for one water pistol." There certainly doesn't appear to be any national security rational for this "deal," which will likely return these five nasties to active involvement in the conflict. If anything, our willingness to negotiate with these terrorists will only energize them to seek out high-value Americans and kidnap them knowing that they can expect to be rewarded.

The Five War Criminals

The Deserter

To my knowledge all of the president's senior military advisers were completely against the swap, which appears to have been supported only by his political team. The reasons offered by the White House, specious reasons which seem to dribble out anew every few hours, aren't very likely. For someone supposedly on death's door, Sgt Bergdahl appeared to be in reasonably good health. Even Senator Feinstein, a Democrat and chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee, stated that she believed there was no "credible threat" against the life of Bergdahl. Not surprisingly national security advisor Susan Rice was intent on once again making a fool of herself on national tv by claiming that this deserter "served with honor and distinction." And then the president went public and attributed any opposition to the deal to politics, which I find especially odd since a growing number of his own party publicly oppose him on this. I suppose he's hoping that most of the public won't know this and will just accept whatever he and the mainstream media tell them. Unfortunately, he's probably right.

According to the Obama administration the five released Taliban commanders would be subject to “restrictions on their movement and activities." In other words the government of Qatar would keep a tight rein on these terrorists and ensure that they would not re-enter the conflict, for at least a year.  And then come the reports from Qatar. The released terrorists will have no restrictions on their movements within the Arab Emirate. Such a good deal!

But more disturbing than all this misinformation are the reports issuing from the administration that the sergeant's platoon-mates, who have come out strongly against him, are perhaps a group of undisciplined psychopaths. These accusations are absolutely despicable and are certainly unworthy of the commander in chief. As someone who wore the uniform of our nation for nearly 30 years, I just don't know what to make of it. I simply cannot conceive of a commander in chief who would do such a thing. 

Vice Admiral James Stockdale

I'll make one prediction: Sgt Bergdahl will not face a court martial. I base this opinion on the precedent set at the end of the war in Vietnam. In addition to the hundreds of unbelievably brave POWs, several of whom I knew personally,  there were a tiny handful who collaborated with their communist captors and accepted special treatment, including early release. When the other POWs were finally released, their senior officer, Vice Admiral James Stockdale, brought charges against those who had collaborated. Stockdale who earned the medal of honor for his heroism as a POW, was rebuffed by the Department of Defense. DOD decided not to prosecute, believing that doing so would only result in more division in a country already polarized because of the war. 

I can't believe that our current administration will act any differently.

Western Trip Part 4: Grandchildren and Tahoe

Dear Diane and I have four grown children -- two daughters and two sons -- who have given us nine grandchildren -- three granddaughters and six grandsons. Until recently all four families lived in Massachusetts so it wasn't too difficult to visit the entire clan during the course of a single trip north. But things have changed. One daughter and her family moved to California last summer and one son and his family will move to Texas this weekend. The logistics of family visits has, therefore, become much more complex. Indeed, our recent trip west to visit the California branch of the clan is a perfect example. It's hard to combine visits when much of the family is separated by 3,000 miles.

And so, on this trip we spent time with only two of our grandsons, Ezekiel and Phineas.  As I related in yesterday's post, as a family we celebrated Ezekiel's First Communion. But we also got to spend a week just hanging out with the boys who took a special interest in our dog, Maddie. Some photos follow...

Daughter Siobhan and Phineas

Ezekiel practices for his piano lesson

Dear Diane and Phineas

Ezekiel looking cool in his hat

Phineas and Ezekiel

Boys playing Yahtzee with Mom and Maddie

Leaving Siobhan, Jeffrey, and the boys wasn't easy and we began our trip home with more than a little reluctance. Our first stop was South Lake Tahoe where we stayed at another very accommodating dog-friendly hotel -- Three Peaks Resort & Beach Club. We located a pleasant restaurant nearby -- Blue Angel Cafe -- that also welcomed pooches in their outdoor seating area. The food was quite good and our pretty waitress was very attentive to Maddie, offering her a bowl of cold water and a treat or two. Afterwards we drove around town a bit and took in some of the local sights, then walked Maddie down to the shore and enjoyed the spectacular views of the lake and the surrounding mountains. Tahoe is certainly a beautiful spot and I can understand why our daughter and her husband go there so often.

Lake Tahoe

We spent most of the next day driving south from Tahoe to Barstow, California along US Highway 395. Taking this magnificent route is a joy. It passes between the Sierra Nevadas and Death Valley and, as you can see by the photos I've included below, it offers some of California's most beautiful scenery.

California Mountains

Another beautiful view...

And another...

Another...

Eventually we arrived in Barstow, one of those incongruous places, a city that, for reasons I cannot imagine, just rose up out of the desert. Although not a very picturesque spot, Barstow offered a convenient stopping point for us since it's home to a wide selection of motels, including a dog-friendly La Quinta Inn. After a good night's rest we left Barstow and turned east toward our next stop, Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon which I'll describe in my next post.

Here's a link to some of the photos I took during our time in California: Flickr California

D-Day, 70 Years

In September I'll celebrate (very quietly, I hope) my 70th birthday. This is an undeniable fact that I seem to have trouble accepting. Turning 30 didn't bother me, neither did 40 or 50 or 60. There's something about 70, though -- three score and ten, the natural allotment of years, after which we have no guarantee -- that has made me pause and realize this life is definitely coming to an end. It's not that I worry about aging or fear death, because I don't. Both aging and death are natural elements of life itself. I accept them. No, I'm simply surprised that my life has reached this point so quickly. But time doesn't pause; it moves right along.

This came to mind today as I watched some of the news coverage about the 70th anniversary of the D-Day invasion at Normandy. For the first time I realized that perhaps a majority of Americans know little, if anything, about the events we're celebrating. When I was a child, World War II was not the distant memory it is today. After all, I was born during the war. And most of the men I knew -- neighbors, local businessmen, relatives, scout leaders, and, yes, my father -- had served during the war and many told me of their experiences which ran the gamut from the mundane to the heroic. They were normal men, just average American guys, who were called into service, responded willingly, did their duty and much more, and then returned to their civilian lives thankful they had survived the war. The survivors didn't consider themselves heroes; that was an honor they bestowed on those who never returned. If anything they experienced a sense of guilt that they had survived while so many good men had died.

The point or all this? I was too young to recall the war years, and yet World War II was a definite presence during my childhood. As a child I listened to the adult conversations around me, and much of what I heard was about the war. It was what people talked about, and it was fascinating. And then, when I was only seven, my family spent a year in Germany and I saw first-hand the destruction that country had brought on itself. The scars left by the bombing were still visible in many of the cities, and when I walked through the gate at Dachau I could sense the evil that spawned the horrors of that camp.

Berlin 1945: Photo taken by my father

The Gate at Dachau

The men who landed on those Normandy beaches on D-Day began the long process that would take the ground war to Germany itself and ultimately bring an end to all the destruction, all the horror. Far too many of them, especially the young Americans who landed on Omaha and Utah Beaches, sacrificed their lives that day. But their deaths were not in vain because enough of their buddies made it across that beach and many other beaches across the globe, and eventually drove our enemies to surrender.

D-Day: Seawall at Utah Beach

Although I was born three months after D-Day, it remains for me a day to remember. Teach your children and grandchildren about that sad and glorious day so they, too, will always remember.

Pray daily for those who put their lives on the line in defense of our country, in defense of freedom, in defense of you. And pray for peace.

Western Trip, Part 3: God's Gifts

Our trip to the Far West continued as we departed Laguna Beach and made our way, very indirectly, to our destination of Danville in the Bay Area. Although we lived in California for over seven years back in the 60s and 70s, Dear Diane and I had never visited Sequoia National Park. It's one of those places we've always wanted to visit, but we just never got around to it. And so we took a bit of a detour and drove inland into the hills and checked into a nice hotel near Three Rivers, California, not far from the entrance to the national park. Since it was still early in the day, we decided to drive to the park and see the big trees that afternoon.

The drive through the park is breathtaking, and I found myself wanting to stop at every turn and just take in the beauty that surrounded us. A few photos...

The mountains were raised up in homage to the Lord

All of creation seems to point heavenward

Who shall live on your holy mountain, O Lord?

And then we meet the sequoias. Not long after entering the park, following the recommended route, one begins to encounter these huge trees. What magnificent creations! Interestingly, as we climb up the winding road to this mile-high forest, the size of the trees seems to grow proportionately until we find ourselves in the midst of some of the largest and oldest living things on earth. The largest of the sequoias is the General Sherman Tree which stands tall at 275 Feet and has a diameter in excess of 25 feet. It is also estimated to be about 2,500 years old. Such numbers boggle the mind but not as much as the reality itself. 

"General Sherman" - the largest of the large

Standing at the foot of one of these beautiful trees one learns to appreciate the greatness and variety of God's creation. They seem to be pointing to the heavens, as if to say, "We have long been witnesses to God's greatness, and we reach up to Him in thanks." One can almost hear them singing as the breeze rustles their branches:

Sing, O heavens, for the LORD has done it; shout, O depths of the earth; break forth into singing, O mountains, O forest, and every tree in it! For the LORD has redeemed Jacob, and will be glorified in Israel [Is 44:23].

Sequoias reaching up to heaven

It was a glorious day and I am so glad we were able to be there. I've included a few more photos below...

Another large sequoia

A cluster of trees

Two giants stand together

Diane and Maddie checking out the trees

The next morning we drove north through the farmland of California's Central Valley, eventually cutting over toward the San Francisco Bay Area, and arrived in Danville in the early afternoon. It had taken us eight days to make the trip from our home in central Florida, and a wonderful eight days it had been. But now we would begin the long anticipated week with our daughter, Siobhan, her husband, Jeffrey, and their two boys, our grandsons, Ezekiel and Phineas. We stayed in the lovely home of Jeffrey's mom, Puffy, who graciously put up with us (and Maddie) for our entire stay. Actually, Maddie took an instant shine to Puffy and probably would have preferred to stay with her than travel back to Florida with us.

On Saturday, May 10, we were privileged to take part in young Ezekiel's First Holy Communion, celebrated at St. Joan or Arc Parish in San Ramon, California. Fr. Ray, the pastor, kindly asked me to join him in the sanctuary as the deacon of the Mass, permitting me to offer the cup of Jesus' Precious Blood to these wonderful new communicants. What a joy! Diane took some photos.

Ezekiel with his grandfather

The first communicants with Fr. Ray and myself

Ezekiel with his parents and brother, Phineas

Later that afternoon the family and some close family friends came together for an extended celebration at Puffy's home. The weather was just about perfect so we were able to celebrate outside by the pool which certainly pleased the children. At some point during our festivities Ezekiel sat down to open his cards and gifts. "The gifts are all very nice," he said, "but I really like the cards." I doubt that any other child has ever expressed such a sentiment. Since Ezekiel's middle name is Francis, Diane and I gave him a rosary blessed by Pope Francis. He liked it so much he wore it around his neck. Photos follow.

Ezekiel with one of his new rosaries

Puffy admiring one of Ezekiel's gifts

Dear Diane keeping Maddie quiet and content

More tomorrow...God's peace.

Western Trip Part 2: Go West, Old Man

I meant to post yesterday, but my world became far too crowded with tasks and other demands to do much of anything else. By the time I had time, I was too tired to think, much less write. Of course, this morning wasn't much better. After 8 a.m. Mass I facilitated our weekly parish Bible Study, then attended a clergy meeting, followed immediately by a liturgy committee meeting, and finally got home at about 1 p.m. For some reason I just don't feel retired. But as Dear Diane is fond of saying, "For someone who loves what you do you sure do complain a lot." And in truth I do enjoy what I do, since being a deacon in our parish is a joy, especially now with our new church almost finished.
Yes, we're building a new church that will seat 1,100 people. Our current building, which began life as a small mission church, seats only about 500 people crammed together in less than moderate comfort. Since over 5,000 people now attend Saturday Vigil and Sunday Masses during our peak (winter) season here in central Florida, we must schedule between nine and eleven Masses every weekend to handle the crowds. Once we move into the new building, sometime in late July, things will improve drastically. But before then there's a lot of work to do, a lot of preparation to be made. It's all very exciting, though. God has certainly blessed our parish, this wonderful community of believers. May He continue to do so.
I'll include some photos of the new church in a future post.
_____________________

Now, back to our trip West...

After our brief stay in Tombstone, Arizona, Dear Diane, Maddie and I continued West, heading for San Diego. We made our way across the desert and then over the mountains just east of San Diego, amazed at all the wind turbines strung out across the landscape. (Warning: editorial comment follows) It will be interesting to see what happens to this government supported industry if the tax credits it has reaped for years actually expire and are not renewed by Congress. This subsidy costs you and me over $6 billion annually and really does little to encourage the development of more efficient sources of energy. Anyway, I really don't support the idea that the federal government should be picking winners and losers in any industry. After all, these are the same folks that brought us the efficiencies of the Veterans Administration. (End of comment)


It was wonderful to once again find ourselves in San Diego and we enjoyed our drive through the city as we let our GPS take us straight to our hotel, the La Quinta Inn in Old Town. (The inn allows dogs and all three of us were ready to get out of the car and relax a bit.) Once checked in and recovered, we called our dear old friends, Sally and Chuck Smiley, and firmed up our dinner plans for the evening.

CAPT C.B. Smiley, USN (Ret.)

Dear Diane and I had been married for only a few short months when we moved into our first home together in San Diego. That was in January 1969. Actually, that first home was in Chula Vista, a San Diego suburb not far from my duty station, a Navy helicopter squadron based at Naval Air Station Imperial Beach. It was there that as a young Lieutenant (j.g.) and fledgling pilot I met then-Commander C. B. Smiley, the squadron's executive officer, and later commanding officer, who for some reason known only to him, took me under his wing and taught me how to be a good naval officer and an even better human being. The student, however, never matched the high standards set by the teacher's own example. And today, when I mentally flip through the pages of my internal encyclopedia and find the entry for "A Good Man", Chuck Smiley stares back at me in my mind's eye. In the same way, his wife, Sally, became Diane's mentor and taught my 22-year-old bride how to survive and flourish as the wife of a naval officer. Sally could do no wrong and there were many conversations in our new family that began with the words, "Well, Sally says..."

Sally and Diane

Early that evening we met Sally and Chuck at their fabulous downtown condo and together made our way to a nice waterfront restaurant, the Pier Cafe, that offered pleasant outdoor seating for both humans and dogs. The seafood and service were quite good, the conversation even better, and the company the best. It was a perfect evening and the USS Midway, now a remarkable naval museum, could be seen from our table.

Chuck, by the way, was a key member of the team responsible for bringing the USS Midway to San Diego and turning it into the city's greatest tourist attraction. If you go to San Diego, be sure to spend some time aboard the Midway. You can't miss it: it's the big aircraft carrier right off Harbor Drive. Check out the website here. 

Midway from the San Diego shoreline

Here's a photo of Chuck, me, and our two crewmen, Mike Longe and Glen Slider shortly before we flew the mission to recover the Apollo 13 astronauts when they returned from their ill-fated trip to the moon and back. We were all a lot younger back in 1970.



The next morning we drove up the coast, marveling at the growth of what were once little seafront towns between San Diego and Los Angeles. After an hour or so of off-highway driving we arived at beautiful Laguna Beach and the hillside home of other dear friends, Darlene and Warren Aut. We've known them both since those early Navy days in that first squadron. Warren was Chuck Smiley's executive officer way back then and went on to achieve flag rank and become Admiral Aut. And Darlene was one of Dear Diane's very best friends; they were loyal Navy wives who supported each other and raised families on their own while their husbands were away for months at a time, flying off of ships in the Pacific Ocean.

View of the Pacific from the Auts' living room

Darlene and Warren have a new dog, an Australian Labradoodle named Sally Benjamin. A bouncy, fluffy little thing, about twice the size of our dog, she and Maddie seemed to get along well during our two-day stay. Diane and I needed the non-hotel rest. After a week of cross-country driving, their lovely home overlooking the Pacific provided the perfect therapy. Thank you, Darlene and Warren.

Sally Benjamin and Maddie enjoying each other

Darlene and Warren join us for lunch in Laguna Beach

We left our friends and made our way inland so we could visit Sequoia National Park and be humbled by its huge, ancient trees. I'll have to tell you about it tomorrow. The evening Bible Study session is fast approaching, so I must leave.

But before I leave today, let me say only that memory is a wonderful thing, one of God's splendid gifts. Through it we can relive those meaningful events of past days and revisit all the good friends who did so much to bring goodness into our lives. 

God's peace...

Western Trip Part 1: the (Still) Wild West

Every so often I change the focus of this blog and get personal. I suppose that's to be expected since my purpose here is to praise God for the gift of our very being, and I can think of no better way to do this than to describe His work in my life and the lives of those I love.

Last month Dear Diane and I, accompanied by our new pooch, Maddie, left our home here in Florida to drive across this great country so we could visit our daughter and her family who live in the Bay Area. Our primary purpose was to attend the First Holy Communion of our grandson, Ezekiel Francis. But we decided to turn the trip into a major vacation, visit a few old friends, and see the country up close and personal. We spent nearly a month away from home and added almost 7,000 miles to the car's odometer as we made our way to California, avoiding the Interstate highways whenever possible. It was a marvelous trip.

First Communion day: daughter Siobhan, me, son-in-law Jeffrey, Ezekiel, Phineas

The addition of Maddie, our seven-year-old rescued Bichon Frisé, led to some changes to our usual style of travel. First, we had to find accommodations that would accept a dog. Understandably, many hotels don't. That's where the Internet came in handy. I discovered a wonderful website -- www.bringfido.com -- on which one can search for hotels, restaurants and other facilities that tolerate the presence of pooches. It was a lifesaver. I also discovered that La Quinta Inns have a corporate policy permitting dogs at all their inns at no extra charge. We stayed at quite a few on the trip, and most were clean, comfortable, and reasonably priced. Many other hotels call themselves "pet-friendly" but charge from $10 to $50 (or more) per pet. They might well be pet-friendly, but they're certainly not pet-owner-friendly.

Maddie's presence also required us to stop fairly frequently so she could "use the facilities," but that actually worked out well since our bodies likely benefited from the occasional stretching of aging muscles. As for Maddie, she sat on a soft, comfortable dog bed behind the driver seat. We also tethered her to a seat belt to keep her from flying about in the event of a sudden stop or worse. She actually adapted well to these arrangements; indeed, to all the travel, with just a few exceptions. Maddie demanded that her window be opened, if only a few inches, whenever she was in the car; otherwise she subjected us to a constant, very high-pitched whine that no human ear could withstand for more than a few seconds. We decided that any attempt to train her to be quiet while driving at 70 mph was probably a bad idea. And so we opened her window and she settled down, while we were forced to adjust to the constant roaring of wind and road noise. It would seem we were the ones being trained. Oh, yes, and our little fur-ball has a "need for speed." Whenever I slowed down or came to a stop, she whined, but once I returned to highway speed she again settled down quietly on her bed. Very strange.

Diane, Penny & Maddie on the Riverwalk

Our first major stop was San Antonio, deep in the heart of Texas, where we stayed at a lovely hotel, the Hotel Indigo - Riverwalk. They deigned to accept Maddie as a guest in our room for a mere $30 extra...grumble, grumble. Actually, it was worth it. Our room was about as perfect as a hotel room can be, the staff were wonderful, and the location excellent. 

We were able to spend the day and evening with our old friends, Penny and Bill McBride, who were our neighbors back in the mid-70s when Bill and I both taught at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, MD. How wonderful it was to see them again. 

Our friends gave us an abbreviated tour of the city, strolled with us along San Antonio's famous Riverwalk (where little Maddie was quite a hit), and dined with us at outdoor restaurants that tolerated our dog's quiet presence. I've included a few photos taken during our visit, including shots of the Alamo and the Mission of San Jose and San Miguel.

A view along the Riverwalk in San Antonio

 

Diane, Penny and Bill deciding on our lunch

Mission of San Jose & San Miguel

Walkway at the Mission of San Jose & San Miguel

The Alamo at Night

San Antonio is a beautiful city and perhaps we will return and spend more time there so we can better appreciate all it has to offer. After leaving the city we made out way across the stark, dry, beautiful landscape of West Texas and after a day or two found ourselves in famous Tombstone, Arizona, the "town too tough to die." This was actually a return visit since we had spent a day there about 45 years ago. Little had changed, other than a few more shops, saloons, and touristy stuff. But it's still a fun place to visit, and once again our hotel -- the Landmark Lookout Lodge -- was wonderful, especially the breakfast. A few photos follow...

Sunrise at our Tombstone Hotel

The Stagecoach rolls into downtown Tombstone

A Tombstone Street Performer Greets Us

Beautiful desert flora of Arizona

Diane keeping Maddie out of trouble in Tombstone

I'll continue with our trip West in the next few posts. Tomorrow: I'll tell about our visit to San Diego, Laguna Beach, the Sequoias, and joining our daughter and her family in Danville, CA.

Here's a link to some of the photos I took during our San Antonia visit: Flickr Texas