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Attention to Orders

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress, March 3, 1863, has awarded in the name of Congress the Medal of Honor to

Captain William D. Swenson

United States Army

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty:

Captain William D. Swenson distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as embedded advisor to the Afghan National Border Police, Task Force Phoenix, Combined Security Transition Command-Afghanistan in support of 1st Battalion, 32nd Infantry Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division, during combat operations against an armed enemy in Kunar Province, Afghanistan on September 8, 2009. On that morning, more than 60 well-armed, well-positioned enemy fighters ambushed Captain Swenson’s combat team as it moved on foot into the village of Ganjgal for a meeting with village elders. As the enemy unleashed a barrage of rocket-propelled grenade, mortar and machine gun fire, Captain Swenson immediately returned fire and coordinated and directed the response of his Afghan Border Police, while simultaneously calling in suppressive artillery fire and aviation support. After the enemy effectively flanked Coalition Forces, Captain Swenson repeatedly called for smoke to cover the withdrawal of the forward elements. Surrounded on three sides by enemy forces inflicting effective and accurate fire, Captain Swenson coordinated air assets, indirect fire support and medical evacuation helicopter support to allow for the evacuation of the wounded. Captain Swenson ignored enemy radio transmissions demanding surrender and maneuvered uncovered to render medical aid to a wounded fellow soldier. Captain Swenson stopped administering aid long enough to throw a grenade at approaching enemy forces, before assisting with moving the soldier for air evacuation. With complete disregard for his own safety, Captain Swenson unhesitatingly led a team in an unarmored vehicle into the kill zone, exposing himself to enemy fire on at least two occasions, to recover the wounded and search for four missing comrades. After using aviation support to mark locations of fallen and wounded comrades, it became clear that ground recovery of the fallen was required due to heavy enemy fire on helicopter landing zones. Captain Swenson’s team returned to the kill zone another time in a Humvee. Captain Swenson voluntarily exited the vehicle, exposing himself to enemy fire, to locate and recover three fallen Marines and one fallen Navy corpsman. His exceptional leadership and stout resistance against the enemy during six hours of continuous fighting rallied his teammates and effectively disrupted the enemy’s assault. Captain William D. Swenson’s extraordinary heroism and selflessness above and beyond the call of duty are in keeping with the highest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, Task Force Phoenix, 1st Battalion, 32nd Infantry Regiment, 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division and the United States Army.

Today’s Agenda

1:00 AM – Arrive home from work. Begin reading a book on the couch so that I don’t disturb Irish Woman while I wind down.

2:00 AM – Crash into dreamless sleep on the couch

6:00 AM – Phone ‘gently’ awakens me to tell me I have a doctor’s appointment downtown at 7:30.  Stumble about the house getting ready, without coffee or breakfast.

7:15 AM – Arrive at doctor’s office.  After check-in, am whisked off to see the bone bender.  After much questioning, poking, prodding, pulling, and whimpering, she congratulates me on losing weight, accepts my confession to being a bad patient for not coming in to see her sooner, and pronounces that my hiatus of arthritis treatments needs to come to an end.  After having six vials of blood taken, she prescribes steroids for short-term relief, a new anti-inflammatory to take the place of the one that’s not working, and a new self-injectable arthritis treatment that uses an auto-injector with a 17 inch needle.

8:00 AM – Arrive back in our neighborhood, and go to the grocery store.  Consider hunting down the engineer that ‘designed’ their parking lot and using him to fill in a couple of pot holes on the Bluegrass Parkway.

8:45 AM – Leave grocery store with fruit, milk, eggs, bread, and breakfast fixings.  Forget coffee and beer.

9:00 AM – Arrive home, make breakfast for Irish Woman and myself.  Have long discussion with Crash and Koshka on whether or not they truly love spicy pork sausage.  Take first six pills of steroids (not a joke, and yes, that’s the correct dose), and eat a good breakfast.  Neglect to make coffee.

10:00 AM – Lay down on couch to read again.  Start to dose.  Set 30 minute timer on phone.

10:30 AM – Wake up.  Notice that steroids are beginning to work because I can move both my knees and my jaw freely.  Also have an impulse to wash the basement.

1:00 PM – Finish washing the basement.  Get shower.  Talk with Irish Woman, who is trying to work on her, you know, job.  Get accused of creating a hostile work environment and threatened with HR action.

2:15 PM – Leave to pick up Boo from school.  Have nice chat with teacher about how Boo has to learn to keep his hands to himself, but that he enjoyed the discussion of Christopher Columbus.  I refrained from asking her if she also talked about Leif Ericson, although the thought did cross my evil little mind.

2:30 PM – Arrive at drug store to pick up my new anti-inflammatory.  20 minutes of shopping for Halloween stuff and looking at toys later, succeed in purchasing my medicine.

2:35 PM – Go to pharmacy down the road because they’re the only local place that sells Boo’s morning vitamin.  Spend 20 minutes looking at Halloween stuff and toys before completing purchase.

3:00 PM – Arrive home.  Spend a few minutes contemplating a cup of coffee and considering a cat nap.  Instead, draft a blog post about some minor plot element in movie that’s almost as old as I am.

4:00 PM – Girlie Bear calls to tell me that her JROTC activity for the afternoon is over and that she is ready for pick-up.  I advise her to mark the LZ with yellow smoke and prepare for me to utilize the jungle penetrator for extraction.

4:30 PM – Pick-up Girlie Bear and return home.  Daydream on way to house about a good strong cup of midrats coffee.  Consider calling someone I knew who served in the Navy to see if she will make some for me.

5:00 PM – Arrive home.  Make dinner of Bolognese sauce with italian sausage and onions, weird tied together like a Gordian-knot pasta, whole grain bread from the bakery, and fruit.

6:00 PM – Serve dinner.  To my surprise, Boo actually eats it.  Have rousing discussion of local personalities and politics, after which I can still proudly say that I’m not from here, so it’s not my fault.  Notice during dinner that I can hear very well. For instance, using echo-location from the quiet sounds a human jaw makes when it chews, I can tell that Irish Woman has 32 teeth and may have a loose filling.

7:10 PM – Clear table and do dishes.  Put away dinner.  Irish Woman puts Boo into tub and Girlie Bear goes back to homework.  Start to hear colors.  Not sure if that’s because of the steroids or if I’m just that tired.

7:50 PM – Read “Fox in Socks” to Boo as fast as I can.  The experience, for those of you who have not read this book to a child, is the literary equivalent of being in a kung-fu fight with Bruce Lee and 20 of your closest friends.

8:00 PM – Put Boo to bed.  Consider going straight to bed myself.  Boo begins nightly ritual of “I’m not tired!”.

8:15 PM – Irish Woman is up in the attic, pulling down Halloween stuff.   Assist her, but consider curling up for a nap right there in the hallway.  Get into a ‘discussion’ with Irish Woman after I suggest we tone our decorations down this year.  Last year, families with small children refused to come down our driveway.  Remind Irish Woman on several occasions that Halloween is a children’s holiday.

8:30 PM – Sit down to do a little surfing, and am assaulted by Crash, who needs a little attention before he starts his evening round of “Let’s Jump On The Other Animals and Make Them Growl!”.

8:35 PM – Noises from Boo’s room have ceased.  This is either because he’s asleep, or he’s chewed through the screen on the window and escaped.  Moonshine attempts to French kiss Crash while Crash still has all four sets of claws on my lap.  Hilarity ensues.

8:55 PM – Wake up in my chair and realize that the last 8 hours in which I was in a motorcycle gang on Mars was a dream.  Decide it’s time to go to sleep.

9:10 PM – ZZZZZZZZ

Geeky Thoughts

OK, stay with me on this one.  I’m going off the beaten path a bit.

In the original Star Wars, there’s a scene where Darth Vader inspects the outside of the Millenium Falcon after it’s been captured.  Han, Chewbacca, Ben, and Luke, along with their robotic comedy relief, are all hiding aboard.  A quick search by stormtroopers reveals nothing, so Vader orders a thorough scan of the ship.

As he goes to leave, he stops, ponders, and says “I feel a presence, a presence I’ve not felt since…..”, which we all assume means that he senses the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi.  This is backed up a few scenes later when Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin are having a chat, and Tarkin tries to convince Vader that Obi-Wan and the rest of the Jedi are dead.

But what if Vader wasn’t thinking that he sensed Obi-Wan, but rather Luke?

Anakin Skywalker was the father of Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa.  He was with his wife, Padme Amadala, throughout her pregnancy, and must have experienced the little intimate contacts that expectant fathers have with their unborn children.  While he delighted in the hiccups and the kicks, would a Force empath such as the universe’s strongest Jedi also have also made a connection with his unborn twins via the Force?  A baby can sense light and sound while in utero, so why couldn’t Force sensitives such as Luke and Leia also sense the presence of their father and he sense them?

This clears up how Vader was able to be sure that Luke was his son in Empire Strikes Back, even before coming face to face with him.  He realized that the presence he felt on the Death Star was his kid, put two and two together when Imperial intelligence reported back on the AAR for the Battle of Yavin, and figured out that Obi-Wan and the Emperor might have pulled a paternal fast one on him.  Vader, of course, acts on his understandable anger by convincing the emperor that he could turn Luke to the Dark Side, and proposing a father-son coup against Palpatine, which Luke turns down when he finds out that his Sith moniker will be “Darth Junior”.

In Return of the Jedi, Luke and Vader are able to sense each other across inter-planetary distances, so catching a whiff of Daddy’s little padwan while standing next to the rustbucket he’s hiding in wouldn’t be a stretch.  So, instead of sensing  Obi-Wan, a Jedi master who must have learned to camouflage his mind against such things, it makes more sense that he was able to sense and possibly recognize the presence of a son he’d thought was dead.  Of course, Vader is able to deduce that if Luke is there, then old Obi-Wan must have been hiding him and is now taking him on some damn fool crusade, which explains the discussion with Tarkin about whether Obi-Wan was there.

And with that, the geek lamp is out.  Just had that thought rumbling around in my noggin for a while and it was time to let it out.

Musings

  • Boo is officially over four feet tall.  If his growth rate follows the curve I think it’s going to, he will be taller than me sometime in his freshman year.
    • “Old age and treachery” may be my only acceptable tactic.
  • I need to talk to Girlie Bear about using “knife hands” when talking with other JROTC cadets.
  • Taking four small children trick or treating at the zoo was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun.
  • Someone needs to take the mothers of America and explain a few things about costumes.
    • If you’re old enough to have seen the Wizard of Oz on the big screen, then you shouldn’t dress up as a sexy Dorothy for Halloween.
    • Dressing up with your kids is fun and creative and wonderful.  Dressing up in something between Portuguese cathouse and streetwalker and going to the zoo with your kids is none of those.
    • If your child’s costume looks like something out of “Blood Runs Red on the Highways”, then you might want to ask Junior to tone it down a bit before going to an event with toddlers.
  • Boo has apparently learned to dance, and seems to enjoy it.  I have footage from the “disco” area of the zoo’s Halloween party tonight, and it is being carefully archived.  It will be trotted out when he brings home that special girl.
  • We went to a wedding on Friday night.  It’s kind of nice to go to something like that and have it be done tastefully and simply.
  • Reading an extremely well written history book can lead to you being up until 2 in the morning reading, then laying awake thinking “How did they survive that and come out OK?” for an hour.

Today’s Earworm

Today’s Earworm

Today’s a two-fer.

 

First, this one is dedicated to my de-ice instructor who had to herd 8 de-ice trucks across the airport to get filled up with water this afternoon.

 

Next, we have this golden oldie, which was going through my mind the entire time we were spritzing jets.

Musings

  • It is quite unnerving to drive a large truck so close to a jumbo jet that you can no longer see anything but the actual belly of it.
  • It is almost as unnerving to be on the bucket of said truck so that you can inspect the rear engine on the tail of it.
  • A large truck handles very differently after you load 1500 gallons of water into it.
  • Buckets on booms, high pressure hoses, sprays that rebound right up your noses.  Sunshiny days, trucks that handle rough, this is a bit of my favorite stuff.
  • It is always a good idea to know which end of the nozzle the spray is going to come out of before pulling  back on the trigger.
  • Overheard on the radio:  “Please do not back up the truck when its rear end is pointed at the airplane.  STOP BACKING UP THE TRUCK!  STOP!”
    • It wasn’t directed at me.
    • No bad things happened, but it’s never a good thing when people come running so that they can witness something that looks really interesting.
  • When one of the hinge joints on your jaw refuses to cooperate, it’s time to call the rheumatologist.
  • If de-icing was done in gorgeous weather like we’ve had the past few days, I’d volunteer to transfer.  Of course,  it’ll only happen in January when it’s blowing and snowing.  That’s why it’s called ‘de-icing’ and not ‘de-sunshining’.
  • I got my new barrel from York Arms today.  Time to buy the rest of what I need to complete the  upper.
  • You know, after watching how the parks department and VA have been treated during the shutdown, I think I would support efforts to place all veterans and war memorials, as well as the entire VA, under the purview of the Department of Defense.  I’m not saying that the Pentagon isn’t a bureaucratic leviathan that squashes ants for fun and profit.  What I am saying is that when this happens again, it probably won’t be hard to get volunteers to keep the VA hospitals  and war memorials open and maintained.  My guess is that a Marine lance corporal or Army specialist would be a heck of a lot more respectful and polite to aged veterans than the jackboots that have been prominent so far.

Quote of the Day

“I am.” – Stephen, when replying to a rather rude woman who said that he looked “like one of those ultra-conservative militant militia types that want to destroy our government.”

Stepping Up

By now, I’m sure most of you have heard about the case of five families who have not only lost loved ones in Afghanistan, but are also being denied survivor’s benefits that would allow them to meet their loved ones as their remains are brought home at Dover Air Force Base.  Normally, the Department of Defense issues $100,000.00 to the families of service members who are killed, which allows them to keep home and hearth together while they take care of bringing their fallen home, taking care of funeral expenses, and waiting for the rest of their benefits to come on-line.   Unfortunately, the DoD has decided that, even though Congress and the President approved legislation that would allow it to do so, it will not be making these payments until the budget impasse is over.  For military families, not having these benefits means weeks spent worrying about bills, groceries, and travel and funeral expenses while paperwork for life insurance wends its way through the system.

My opinion on this is that it’s either a boneheaded decision that they now don’t feel they can back down from or it’s part a concerted effort to make the shutdown hurt the most vulnerable.  In either case, all it would take is a phone call from President Obama to Defense Secretary Hagel to get this taken care of.  Since it’s still happening, I’m guessing that such a phone call hasn’t happened.

In the mean time, good people are stepping up and filling the gap.  Fisher House, which runs a series of ‘houses’ near military and VA medical centers world-wide for service members and their families, has offered to cover the payments to the families of service members who have died since the shutdown began.  Rather than wait for Uncle Sugar to do what he has promised to do, this private organization is doing the right thing.  Fisher House has done right by my family in the past, and their support has been instrumental in the care and well being of our wounded warriors and their families for decades.

So far, that puts the charity on the hook for half a million dollars, which I’m sure wasn’t planned for.  If you’ve got a little extra, please consider heading over to their website and making a donation.  If they’re doing what needs to be done, they deserve our support.

Musings

  • I watched “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!” with Boo today.
    • That sack of rocks that Charlie Brown gets while trick or treating would come in handy if someone tried to mug the other kids for their candy.
    • The butt chewing that Sally gives Linus when she realizes that he’s an idiot sounds eerily familiar.
    • The World War I flying ace has obviously seen too much. He just needs someone to listen to him talk. What clued me to this was how music played on a toy piano caused such a quick and traumatic mood swing.
    • Linus  needs to realize that the Great Pumpkin isn’t in the pumpkin patch. He’s in the costume stores and the slasher flicks. He’s in the temporary candy aisles in the stores and the overpriced corn mazes. Yes, Virginia, there is a Great Pumpkin, and he is found everywhere people start shopping for Halloween as soon as the back to school sales are over.
  • Well, the great storms passed through this weekend.
    • On a good note, I got to meet my new neighbor, who is apparently into ship building and menageries.
    • The money we put into waterproofing our basement and replacing the roof was well spent.  We probably got more than 3 inches of rain in a few hours, and the house was bone dry.
    • Lightning strikes that are almost instantaneous with the thunder boom are nature’s way of telling you to quit caulking the seams in the porch and go inside.
  • Girlie Bear enjoyed her camping trip this weekend.
    • The adults cut it short because of the monsoon that was sweeping through, but only by a few hours.
    • I’m going to have to show her the trick of putting important stuff into ziploc bags when you’re going to be outdoors.
    • In related news, Girlie Bear will soon be purchasing her own cell phone for the very first time.
  • Taking the Siamese cat and the labrador retriever to the vet at the same time wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
    • I noticed that my vet bills lately have been bigger than the payments on my first car loan.  I think we’re officially full when it comes to critters.
  • I’m pretty sure that my circadian rhythm is set to “Calypso” at the moment.