Veteran's Day Note

I have seen several things written today about Veteran’s Day, so I thought I would post my reflections.   My thoughts take me to Cheb, a little town in what is now the Czech Republic.   Cheb is a small town where at the end of World War II American forces of the 1^st Infantry Division made their final push.  There is a monument there, outside of the town, dedicated to the soldiers of the 1^st Infantry Division who died in and around the area. 

            Near the end of my tour in Germany, I had the great honor of accompanying a contingent of soldiers from the 4/16^th Inf. Battalion of the 1^st Infantry Division, led by, who was then, LTC Russell Honore’, to lay a wreath at the monument.  It was a special ceremony because no Americans had been to Cheb in such a capacity since Czechoslovakia had become a communist country after the war  behind the Iron Curtain.  The monument is located somewhere several miles out of the center of town.  When we arrived we learned it was located in a grove of heavily leaved trees, located out behind a gas station.  You could not see the monument because of the trees.  It didn’t look like much.  When we marched back to the monument, our jaws dropped.   There was this 15-20 obelisk monument.  It looked like a miniature Washington monument.  It was beautiful.  But more astonishing was that the monument contained the names of thousands of American soldiers who died fighting in the area around Cheb.   We wondered whether anyone even knew this monument was there.   None of us ever expected to see so many names, or for that matter, any names.  We were also amazed that so many local citizens showed up.  What was amazing was that so many of the peoples were wearing shirts and clothing with 1^st Infantry Division and 2^nd Infantry Division patches sewn on them.  We learned that these were patches soldiers had given local citizens back in the final days of the war. It was amazing. 

            I can tell you there were some wet eyes,  although some of us were still trying to regain our sobriety after a night of sharing vodka with our Czech hosts at their Officer’s Club.   That experience is not a part of this story. 

            It was quite an experience.  I remember seeing all of those names.  They are the veteran’s I remember today.  All the young soldiers who left it all out there and never came home.  So today, I remember those soldiers, and remember others too, like my initial drill instructor, SSG “No Slack” Jackson, what a man, ramrod straight, a man who never messed a crease or popped a bead of sweat, no matter how long the run may have been; or Cpt. John P. “Pat” McKenna, of Houston, Texas, a Viet Nam vet, who carries the scars of a combat veteran, if you see him in town please tell him thank you; or MG Michael Nardotti, the retired Judge Advocate General of the U.S. Army, of whom I always said that I would follow him through the gates of Hell, if he said we needed to go in there; or the Cpt. with whom I served at the Aviation Systems Command, whose name I cannot remember, but whose face I shall not forget, because it was one big scar from the burns he received in a helicopter crash in Viet Nam; or any of the many Command Sergeant Majors with whom I have served in my career, those men and women who, tough as nails, run the Army on a daily basis, and whose mission is to take care of soldiers; or the many Commanders and NCO’s who find it hard to sleep sometimes when they think of their soldiers who didn’t come home, and who ask themselves, “why did I make it back;”  or, my uncles, Clem Szymanski, recipient of the Silver Star, and his brother Eddie Szymanski, both who served in World War II; or all of the soldiers who are out there at this very moment, in harm’s way.  These are the veteran’s I most especially remember today.  I salute you all.  

August 6, 2011

I woke up this morning, after a nice, comfortable night of sleep. Went to my bathroom, which is about 10 feet from my bedroom. Freshened up, nice hot water, looked in the mirror at my aging face, had a cup of the best coffee money can buy. Saturday morning. How blessed am I?

Then I looked at the news and saw that 32 soldiers had been killed in Afghanistan. My heart sank. I wanted to cry. While I sit in comfort, fellow soldiers die, young men and women with their lives in front of them. Gone forever.

Earlier my biggest concern earlier was whether my stocks were losing money. I am heartsick this morning. We are worried about the wrong things folks. We have sent our treasure, men and women soldiers, off to a far away land where victory will never be achieved because there is no victory to attain. Mainly because success is not defined there. There is no winning or losing. Ten years. Ten years we have been there, and I would bet that not one in one hundred citizens can define or explain our mission. The Civil War didn’t last that long, neither did World War II. I have felt for a long time that our presence in Afghanistan is a folly. Other invaders have never been successful at whatever they were trying to achieve there. I believe we must face the realities and bring our troops home. We have no further business there.

My personal view is that the realities are these:

We have the best army the world has ever seen. Our soldiers will put more metal on the target than any other army that has ever existed in the history of mankind. I’m proud to have been a part of that. But, we must use our army wisely.

Our political leaders have used our country’s best, without any well-defined mission. Ten years is long enough to define your mission; and,

We have a citizenry that is detached from this war, except for those who are personally effected by having loved ones in the fray. Shopping goes on. The games proceed. Where is the sacrifice that backs up our brave soldiers? It is time for citizens to speak up and demand an end to this mess. Instead of parading our might around the world, our best men and women should be here, at home, fashioning solutions to our problems at home.

And let me tell you, we have some problems that need serious attention.

1. Unemployment is the paramount issue. The unemployment among minorities in our inner-cities is serious and should be unacceptable to all of us. People without meaningful jobs. This is a bubbling caldron of discontent, just waiting to boil over. Trade agreements have depleted our country of jobs. We need to get people back to work, in meaningful jobs. We need to create jobs at the community level. This is where people live. Travel across America and look at the state of so many communities. Small towns virtually abandoned. .

2. The infra-structure in this country needs to be rebuilt and maintained. Water lines, sewer systems, roads, bridges, electric grids, you name it. We must spend our wealth on these things. We are innovators and we solve these problems.

3. Immigration is out of control. We need to set this straight and give those who have been here a path to citizenship. Countless young people are strapped with enormous student loans. Prisons are overflowing, our justice system is stretched to the breaking point. We are spending our wealth on overseas oil, funding those who would do us harm. We need leaders, and they are out there, who will say that we will rectify this problem within ten years, just like putting a man on the moon in the sixties. Restore our imagination . As William Berry says, we should seek the advice of native Americans as to how we can solve some of our problems.

4. Our federal government is not in touch with reality. We cannot borrow $.40 for every dollar we, as a nation, spend. Need I go on?

I could go on and on, but I’ve lost focus on my message. I am heartsick to see so many soldiers killed yesterday. It’s the price they are willing to pay, but it hurts to know the suffering and sorrow that each death brings to family, friends, and all of us. We support our military so much more today than we did for those returning from Viet Nam. Yet, parades and flag-waving are not enough. Demand that our President set out our mission, our objectives in concrete terms, and if he cannot do it, then demand that he bring our soldiers home, where they will receive hero’s welcomes.

Maybe we should wear arm bands in memory of those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. Somehow we need to see, everyday, every moment that we have soldiers in harm’s way overseas. I’m attaching a poem I wrote about a year or so ago. It sums up my feelings. You know, my Uncle Clem Szymanski was a recipient of our Nation’s Silver Star medal for his heroism in World War II. I am so proud to be his nephew. But, I wonder what he would think about these things. He knew first hand what this is all about. I hope he would agree with me. Please let me know where I am wrong. Please let me know whether I am just an old fool. I so hope that I am.

　

　

　

YOUNG SOLDIERS THAT DIE IN FAR AWAY PLACES

WHEN A YOUNG SOLDIER DIES IN FAR AWAY PLACE

THE SHIPS ON THE SEAS HAVE THE WIND DRAINED FROM THEIR SAILS.

HEARTS ACHE AS ONLY HEARTS CAN.

I KNOW SOLDIERS, I KNOW WHAT THEY THINK.

I HAVE SEEN THEIR LAUGHTER, THEIR FRUSTRATIONS.

PROPELLED BY A SENSE OF LOYALTY; TO COUNTRY, TO FAMILY, TO SELF.

ACTING OUT OF A SENSE OF DUTY, PRIDE.

KNOWING THAT SOME DAY THEIR LIFE MAY END IN A FAR AWAY LAND.

I HAVE SEEN IT, MAIL CALL – THE LETTERS ARE HANDED OUT.

THEN, AS IF SOME BREAK HAS BEEN CALLED,

MANY ISLANDS APPEAR,

AS SOLDIERS SEEK THEIR SOLITUDE TO HEAR THE NEWS FROM HOME.

A SILENCE COMES OVER THEM.

READING LETTERS – LAUGHTER, SMILES AND GRINS.

AND THEN, DEEP SIGHS.

LETTERS ARE FOLDED UP, PUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER READING,

FOR SOMETHING MAY HAVE BEEN MISSED.

THESE PRECIOUS NOTES FROM FAMILY AND FRIENDS.

THE NOISE AND HUSTLE RETURN. DUTY CALLS.

WHEN A SOLDIER FALLS,

WITH LETTERS TUCKED AWAY IN A SECURE POCKET

WORLDS ARE SHATTERED.

NOTHING CUTS AS DEEP, AS WHEN A SOLDIER FALLS

IN A FAR AWAY LAND.

THE LAUGHTER IS STILLED.

THE DREAMS ARE GONE.

THE NEWS OF A FALLEN SOLDIER IS NOT JUST A PASSING ITEM

OF INTEREST FOR THE DAY.

IT IS PROFOUND.

The perfect world

      The Tao teaches us that great perfection seems flawed, yet it functions without a hitch.  This statement is the bedrock of the universe.  Somehow, man with his world view, believes this universe was made for man, or humans, and that some deity has ordained that man must make sure the universe functions "properly."  This is a flawed view. 

       Nature is not broken.  I repeat, nature is not broken.  It will carry on without a hitch.  All of the problems which we ordain are in need of fixing, have been caused by man.  Every one.  For instance, millions want to live in western deserts, where there is little water.  However, they wish to live, not as desert dwellers, but as if they are living in some big city, near a giant lake, where water is plentiful.  Because there is little water, the population feels cheated, they may see the lack of water as a problem of nature that must be fixed.  Efforts to supply water to the new desert dwellers is seen as a great beneficial endeavor, but it will only disrupt nature.  Thus the problem.

        The Tao's teaching, ages old, provides a view of the world that puts us in harmony with it.  As you go through life, as you look around, do not view nature as flawed, as some unreasonable obstacle in your path.  The ancients knew this and passed on their understandings.  Somewhere in our western world view, we have not given much attention to this wisdom.  We have adopted a world view that views the earth as a "vale of tears," a place where we are put for a test and then we move on to another place, where the true value and meaning of our existence will be manifest.

        The earth, in this world view, is like a bus that is giving us a ride to the next place we are going to.  The rider, who is focusing only on the place where he or she is going, cares little for the bus or the scenery, and upon their departure from the bus, could care little whether it is clean or dirty, their focus is beyond.  However, the devoted bus driver knows the bus will be fine, because he or she will clean it up, re-fuel it, and get ready for the next load of passengers. 

         Nature does not need our help to be perfect.  It is so.  All we can do is disrupt that perfection by our present way of living.  We should try not to disrupt that perfection, that unity of purpose that the ancients knew so well. 

April 18, 2011

             The Tao teaches me that true virtue is like a valley.  The immaculate seems humble.  Extensive virtue seems insufficient.  Established virtue seems deceptive.   The face of reality seems to change.  The great square has no corners.  Great ability takes a long time to perfect.  Great sound is hard to hear.  The great form has no shape.  The Tao is nameless and hidden.  That is why the Tao is good at developing and perfecting.  I can think about these things, but I cannot explain them.  The Tao is nameless.  I am content with that.  For it is said that those who think they know, do not know.

            The country is certainly in a mess right now.  A consumer economy is similar to an obese person.  You can only consume so much.  In world history and in world events, it has been difficult to predict the future.  Events can transpire that can make our country much different than it was in the past.  There is no guarantee that we will recover from this financial crisis without major changes to our way of life.  I hope people can accept this idea.  We must change our way of life.  Spending, buying, and consuming material “things” is a dead-end road.  I believe we are close to that dead-end.  So, where do we go from here?

            Frankly, the opportunities are endless.  With our experience and our wealth we can lead the way in this century to re-connect with the universe; unify our cultural heritages; look to culture and arts for guidance, instead of being lead around by financial wizards.  I think, initially we will seek that which we believe brings us security.  And that would be a desire to get things back where they were.  We need to resist this feeling.  For as the old sergeant once said, “the army is not like it is used to be, and it never was.”   We need to be bold, venture out and re-establish our human connection to the world around us.  A new adventure will be a great challenge.

            On the economic side we can do several things. For instance, instead of having GM put back together so that it can resume building big trucks, (you know the ones with big macho names that can climb mountains, ford rivers, and jump through walls of fire) why not restructure GM to lead the world in advanced technology to produce cars that are energy efficient and in harmony with our surroundings.   Why not lead in this area.  It can be done, and this is just one example.  Another, why not take the lead in energy efficient housing.  Why not replace every window in this nation with energy saving windows produced by American workers in this country.   It can be done.             We need a leader who will talk “turkey” to the people and set a path of recovery that leads us to a way of life that is not merely focused on buying things and having fun.

            As far as what we can on a personal level, that is a subject for another day.

Perceptions - Camp Logan

          I want to talk a bit about perceptions.  Perceptions are reality to most people.   I’m told that sometimes perceptions are more important than the truth.  How we perceive things may give those things their existence.   “Science is nothing but perception.”  Plato.    “There is no truth. There is only perception.”  Gustave Flaubert.   “Men are disturbed not by things, but by the view which they take of them.” Epictetus.

          I know in the military we used to say that perception is reality.  In most cases the perception of wrongdoing is as bad as the wrongdoing itself.   Sometimes statistics can show you that what you know to be the truth, but the perceptions may be otherwise.  What comes to mind is how we would prepare statistics on courts-martial.  There were those who would argue that black soldiers were subject to court-martial more than other soldiers.  There was a perception that this was the case and so there was a question of whether it was the truth.  Our statistics always showed that there was a certain percentage of black soldiers who were subject to court-martial and that this percentage was about the same as the percentage of crimes reported to have been committed by black soldiers.  In other words, of the crimes reported to the military police, the percentage committed by black soldiers was equal to the percentage that were court-martialed. 

           So one could stand up and say that the truth is that black soldiers were not prosecuted any more than white soldiers.  But to many the perception was otherwise.   And, as we know, perception sometimes guides people more than the truth.  The result, the reality of the situation was different for those who perceived that certain soldiers were treated differently and statistical facts would not alter that perception. 

          And this brings me to the other matter concerning the perception of the truth.  When I was growing up there was a place called the Camp Logan Pharmacy over on Washington Avenue near Shepard Drive, very near to Memorial Park.  It was a small pharmacy, there were pharmacies all around.  For instance, Powers Pharmacy, Norhill Pharmacy, I don’t remember all of the names, but there were not any “chain” pharmacies that I remember.   Camp Logan Pharmacy was not near our house, and the only reason I ever went there was because I played baseball in the pony league over at Memorial Park.  There was a tradition that whenever you would win a game,  the coach would take us to the Dairy Queen or the Someburger, or someplace where we would get a coke or an ice cream cone. Now the teams I played on were never that good and it was always a treat to be able to go and get an ice cream.  In the pony league, Mr. Carby was our coach and he would take us over to the Camp Logan pharmacy to get and ice cream treat after any of our big wins.

          I never paid attention to the name, it was just another pharmacy.  It wasn’t until I left Houston, after graduating from law school, and went on active duty in the U.S. Army, in the  Judge Advocate General’s Corps, that I even came to know anything about Camp Logan.  I learned that Camp Logan was a military camp in the early twentieth century, and Camp Logan’s “fame” to the extent you could call it fame, maybe notoriety is a better description, revolved around the Camp Logan riots in 1917, during World War I.   These riots involved soldiers from the 24^th infantry division.  Black soldiers. 

          I don’t know what the cause of riots was, or for what reason there was any disturbance.  From what I understand, a couple of soldiers were ejected from a local establishment and word came back to camp that the police had killed them.  Newspaper accounts said the soldiers rioted and killed several white men, including several police officers.  If you look at the roster of Houston police officers killed in the line of duty, you will find that five were killed on ???, 1917. Who knows now what really happened.  However, the soldiers involved were court-martialed. 

          The soldiers were ultimately taken to Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio where they put subject to court-martial.  The trial resulted in the largest murder trial in the history of the United States.  Sixty three soldiers were put on trial as a result of the Camp Logan riots.  They were convicted, 13 were sentenced to death, 41 were sentenced to life imprisonment, and others received lesser punishments.   The death sentences were carried out the morning after the verdicts were rendered; the thirteen soldiers were hanged. 

          This event went down in the history of military justice as a true black mark, because none of these convictions were reviewed by anyone before the sentences were executed.  The commander ordered the executions to be carried out immediately.  The day after the convictions were announced, the condemned soldiers were hanged.  There was great consternation when word reached Washington D.C. of  the executions of these black soldiers.  As a result, even to this day, a soldier cannot be executed without complete review of the trial and approval of the execution by Presidential confirmation. 

          So these Camp Logan trials are historic.  I have picture of the trial that I got from my book on the history of the JAG Corps which I obtained when I entered the Corps in  1976.   I have included it below.  You can see in the picture a large group of  black soldiers sitting to the left.  These are apparently all of the accused soldiers.   And if you read the writing on the picture, it describes and names some of the participants.  The thing that struck me most was that there is one defense counsel, a Major Grier, who apparently represented sixty three defendants in the largest murder trial ever held in this country.  Now, some people might say this was a fair trial and everything was done properly.  Some people might say that the perception, by just looking at the photograph and hearing some of the details, would lead one to conclude that this was no fair trial whatsoever.   What is truth and what is perception.   My gut feeling tells me that my perception, that this was not a fair trial, is closer to the truth than the verdict in this case.    

          There is another thing that has bothered me through the years about the Camp Logan riots.  I grew up in Houston, very near Memorial Park, over in Norhill, next to the Heights.  I played baseball in Memorial Park, I played golf at the Memorial park golf course for years.   Memorial Park was always a place that I knew as a big city park,  a lovely place.  And, having lived in Houston for the first twenty six years of my life, never once, never once, did I ever hear anyone mention anything about these riots.  I never heard anything about the trials of these black soldiers from Camp Logan, and their summary executions.  My parents never mentioned it.  I’m not sure they knew about it.  My dad was about six years old when this occurred, living in Bryan, Texas.  My mother was just about one or two years old, living in Chappell Hill when this occurred. 

          I never read anything about this incident.  I never read about it in any history book, either Texas History or U.S. History.   I never had a teacher, in all my years of schooling in Houston, who ever mentioned these events. All the times I had been to Memorial Park to play baseball, play golf, or to do anything there, I never saw any indication, any marker or monument, or anything, that even recognized that Camp Logan existed.  I never connected the Camp Logan Pharmacy with any military installation that once was there.   I would be willing to bet that there is not one in a thousand Houstonians who have ever heard of Camp Logan and what occurred there in 1917.  As I said, this has always bothered me.  Not a trace.  Why was this so?  Was it because this incident involved African American soldiers?  After all, weren’t these invisible men?  Is it because no one was proud of this incident?  Maybe it was considered a federal issue and not something particular to Texas.  After all, these were U.S. soldiers and the U.S. government was responsible for the trials.  Who knows? 

          But you now, it goes back to my musing about perceptions.  What are our perceptions?  Someone once said, or at least there is an adage, that says, “Don’t bother me with the facts; I’ve already made up my mind.”   I believe this adage holds more weight than one would believe.  There are perceptions throughout our culture, throughout our world, and as I grow older I realize that most people, including myself, base their own actions and beliefs upon their perception of what the truth is and not necessarily what really is the truth.  So Camp Logan is an example, and I know I could come up many more.

          The fact that the history books in Texas never mention the Camp Logan riots and trials doesn’t surprise me.  However, I believe that incidents like this occurred throughout our country for many years; maybe we have to keep our eyes open and learn from the past.  The lessons we learn help us to face the future.  I think our military justice system is much better than it was prior to the 1950’s.  There have been many safeguards put in place.  If you take a look at that picture of the courtroom, sixty three defendants represented by one attorney, I think your perceptions will guide you as to what really happened there.  So if you ever go by Memorial park in the area of Shepard and Washington you will be in close proximity to Camp Logan and in close proximity to area where things were not so clear back in 1917.