Rough men

Rough Men

by Russ Vaughn

There’s a character trait that’s decided by fate
Comes “sadly” to many, far too faint, far too late.
They won’t face the aggressor, stand up to his ire
They have not the will to fight his fire with fire.
So they bend over backwards to see all sides as fair,
Till they’re faced with dragon breath fire in their hair.
Like our brethren in France, who’d know better than we,
Yet seem never to learn, seem doomed never to see.

Yes, it seems there are some who’re determined by fate,
To possess not the courage to step up to the plate,
Who shrink from all threat because nothing’s worth war.
But how can they know lest they’ve been there before?
Thank God some have courage, the will, yes, the grace,
To stand for the shirkers, stand strong in their place.
Thank God we have stalwarts who’ll stand for us all,
Who will rise to the challenge at their nation’s call.

The faint-hearted, who fear, whose reaction is flight,
Have no comprehension of those who will fight.
To hide their own trepidation they attempt to demean
The rough men, who defend them, as barbaric, obscene.
Yet these rough men stand ready, hard weapons to hand,
To put placaters behind them, draw a line in the sand,
To preserve for the peaceniks what they won’t defend,
So their own unearned freedom won’t perish, won’t end.

To appeasers, rough men are coarse government tools.
To rough men, appeasers are dumb delusional fools.

Russ Vaughn
2d Bn, 327th Parachute Infantry Regiment
101st Airborne Division
Vietnam 65-66

Send Your Valentine Message to the Troops

Fort Worth Stockyards

Edited from a picture that I took today.

God and the Spider

Received this in an e-mail.

God and the Spider During World War II, a US marine was separated from his unit on a Pacific island. The fighting had been intense, and in the smoke and the crossfire he had lost touch with his comrades. Alone in the jungle, he could hear enemy soldiers coming in his direction. Scrambling for cover, he found his way up a high ridge to several small caves in the rock. Quickly he crawled inside one of the caves. Although safe for the moment, he realized that once the enemy soldiers looking for him swept up the ridge, they would quickly search all the caves and he would be killed. As he waited, he prayed, "Lord, if it be your will, please protect me. Whatever your will though, I love you and trust you. Amen." After praying, he lay quietly listening to the enemy begin to draw close. He thought, "Well, I guess the Lord isn't going to help me out of this one." Then he saw a spider begin to build a web over the front of his cave. As he watched, listening to the enemy searching for him all the while, the spider layered strand after strand of web across the opening of the cave. "Hah, he thought. "What I need is a brick wall and what the Lord has sent me is a spider web. God does have a sense of humor." As the enemy drew closer he watched from the darkness of his hideout and could see them searching one cave after another. As they came to his, he got ready to make his last stand. To his amazement, however, after glancing in the direction of his cave, they moved on. Suddenly, he realized that with the spider web over the entrance, his cave looked as if no one had entered for quite a while. "Lord, forgive me," prayed the young man. "I had forgotten that in you a spider's web is stronger than a brick wall." We all face times of great trouble. When we do, it is so easy to forget what God can work in our lives, sometimes in the most surprising ways. And remember with God, a mere spider's web becomes a brick wall of protection.

Lord, I thank you for all our
Military, and their families.
I Pray for your Brick wall of protection,
to protect them everyday!!!
Amen

A Letter From Mom

"So Often we hear "Pray for our soldiers overseas". The word "Soldier" is so generic. It does not begin to make known the person behind the title. As my son prepares to go to Afghanistan, my mission, as a mom, is to raise the awareness of each American. To make it known that these are soldiers, yes, but more importantly, someone's son or daughter. Someone's child. I wrote this to help you see MY son as more than just a faceless man in uniform. Please SEE my son, please be grateful for my son, and to please pray for my son. 21 years ago, as I began to labor with my child, I realized this was the beginning of our separation. The start of a process of growing for both of us. Never again would I be so literally between him and the world, protecting him. Early in the morning of December 10, the beautiful eyes of a precious soul looked into mine. My heart was overflowing with feelings I had never known before. Would I be a good mom? Will I always be able to keep him safe? I wanted to hold him close forever. I still do. As he grew, I watch the first tentative steps on pudgy little feet. An unsteady gait, taking him precariously close to the danger of another bump or bruise. I would rush to catch him. Now, those feet march in military confidence. Again, marching precariously close to danger. I cannot catch him if he falls this time. I remember a little boy standing at my door with a Bert and Ernie book bag hanging loosely off little shoulders. It is the first day of school and he doesn't want to go but knows he has to. He had tears in his eyes. "I'll miss you, mom." he whispered. The years rush by and bring into reality the young man I want you to see. He loved dinosaurs, lasagna, Indian Jones and peanut butter cookies. He had fish (they all died!), rode a bike, got stitches and went to prom. He set an example, became a member of the National Honor Society and received a scholarship. He forgot to take out the trash, continually lost his mittens and washed his colored clothes and white clothes together. He grew up, trusted God and joined the Army. The little hands full of dirt and dandelions that gave me my first bouquet now hold a weapon that gives you freedom. Now, there is a young man with strong broad shoulders standing at my door, holding a green duffle bag. He doesn't want to go, but it is his duty. He has tears in his eyes. "I'll miss you, mom." he whispers. I'll miss you, too my son. I'll miss you, too... So, please when you say your prayers for the "soldiers" overseas, see my son. See someone's daughter. Pray not only for the soldier, but also for the child behind the uniform and the family that loves them. (This performance and reading was based on a letter written by Ms. Tami M. Ketteman from Ohio whose son is currently based at Fort Richardson in Alaska and is currently deployed to Afghanistan. Through this letter she shares the anxiety, the fear, and the proud patriotic spirit of a mother, of an American soldier fighting for freedom.)

I lifted this entirely from the blog, Crazy Poltico's Rantings. I agree that strongly with Bob, the blog's author. If the Post, or any other RAG wants to print a letter promoting the "waste" of life, then that same RAG should be willing to post a letter that celebrates a life well lived, a life lived with Honor. Pressure the Washington Post and other 'newspaper' that you might find unworthy of the Freedom of the Press that our young soldiers die to preserve!

Will The Post Print This?

In yesterday's Washington Post, and editorial piece called "A Life Wasted" was printed, written by the father of a Marine who was killed in Iraq. I have no idea what it's like to lose a child in a war, but I have lost shipmates to terror. So while I mourn his loss, I disagree with Mr. Schroeder on Iraq being a waste.

A few weeks ago, the father of Sgt. Stokely wrote an article for Mudville Gazette on the loss of his son. He has expanded that article, and submitted it to the editors of the Washington Post as a rebuttal to Mr. Schoeder.

In hopes of fairness, and equal treatment of both points of view, I hope the Post will print his editorial piece also. He has given me permission to post here what he sent to the editors.

I thought I'd share my thoughts as the dad of an American Soldier killed in action four plus months ago, very near in time to Mr. Schroeder's son. My son was standing cover flank for two buddies checking out a suspicous location in the roadway while on patrol at 2:20 A.M. 16 Aug when an IED exploded. He was the only one killed. Two other soldiers suffered serious injuries and are now home on permanent medical leave and both are expected to make full recoveries after they finish med rehab and surgery.

Life is hard when you lose a child; you have children and you think of them burying you and not the other way around. But war brings a new perspective to the parent child relationship, for the parent is put in a position that they are unable to fulfill a basic parental instinct - protect your child. Losing a child, especially in war and especially with media attention focused on your loss, is difficult. I find myself counting time in weeks - every Monday at 6:20 p.m., I silently remember, maybe with a tear, that X weeks ago Mike died at what was 2:20 a.m. his time on Tuesday; then as the evening goes on, I think, Mike was dead X hours at this time; I then awake on what is my Tuesday mornng, and at 7:00 a.m., I remember the call to my home and the voice saying "Mr. Stokely, this is Maj. Hulsey - please come to the door, your dog won't let us up the driveway and we need to speak to you" and then remembering my fast gait to the driveway and asking, before they can say anything "is my boy dead" and the the words they spoke, with humble sadness in the eyes of Maj. Hulsey and the Chaplin that was with him "we regret to inform you...." But the pain,while there, is more manageable. I think it must be like the rigors and harshness of war - it is always the same, you just adjust.

No pity for me is needed, for as a friend said to me, I am lucky to have a son who has brought such honor to his father and the entire family. My son was a man who had a heart that cared deeply for others, and they likewise cared for him. In all of this, so many stories of his simple kindness have been shared with us and touched us. My favorite is the one where he and his buddies had been on continuous duty for several days (their normal day was 22 hours long). He and one of his fellow soldiers had to pull guard duty after being on missions for that continuous period without any sleep. He told his buddy to take a nap and he would stand watch and then they would swap out. For the next several hours, he let his buddy sleep while he stood the whole watch.

We miss him so much. We hurt inside. But we burst with pride in our son and brother. His memory will not fade nor will our love for him. When Mike was just becoming a teenager, I tried to imagine what he would be one day. I often told people I wasn't sure where life would take him, but I knew he would do something different and be very well known in his chosen field. I never dreamed he would become an American Hero who would serve his country so well.

Mike Stokely joined the Georgia National Guard in the spring of 2000, as a junior in high school, going to boot camp that summer, and then returning to complete his senior year, graduating in 2001. Before joining, he and I discussed that the only guarantee of his six year hitch was that he would be on foriegn soil and fight in a war. We then discussed the real meaning of fighting in war -kill or be killed. In response to his question on what I thought as to whether he should join or not, I asked him two questions, with the admonition that his answers had to be an unequivolcal yes: 1) if called upon by your country to kill, are you prepared to kill another person in war? 2) remembering that it is the other side's job to kill you, are you prepared to be killed for your country? His response to both questions was an unequivocal yes.

A week before Mike Stokely died on August 16, in his last telphone call to me, we again discussed the dangers of the war. In fact, I told him that when he came home on leave in a few weeks, I might carry out what I considered doing before he left - crippling him by hitting him in the shins with a ball bat. He very calmly, and firmly said these words to me "Dad, if it is God's will for me to die, he will take me whereever I am at, whether it be in the safety of my home or in the dangers of war in Iraq. Dad you can't hide me from God and if I have to die, I'd rather die serving my country than anything I can imagine. If my time is now, then I am ready."

For whatever reason, the last few days what Cindy Sheehan said "Casey didn't die for a just cause" has been on my mind. Maybe it is because some people have felt comfortable enough four months out to ask me how I felt about Mike's death and whether I thought the cause was "just" enough to justify his sacrifice.

My response is that Mike didn't die for a "just cause", he died JUST BECAUSE - just because he loved his country enough to want to serve it since the time he was in middle school; just because he loved his family enough to want to protect them; just because he loved his friends enough that he would rather fight a war "there" than here; just because he believed in our order of government whereby the civilian government rules and the military obeys, and when the President, with lawful authority(and the approval of Congress, including Republicans and Democrats), calls upon soldiers to go and fight, he believed it was not only his duty, but his honor to go; just because he wouldn't let his fellow soldiers - his guys - go it alone; and just because he wanted to do for others - the Iraqi people - what he would do for his own country.

A good friend of our family, Charles Carmical, wrote these words in tribute to Mike - “Would I lay down my life for a country to defend? I willing would if it housed my family and friends."

Mike Stokely didn't die for a just cause, he died for a lot of just causes, including the ones I set out above. I wish I were fit to tie his shoe laces but I am fortunate enough to have a son who believed in God, family, duty, honor and country and who certainly turned out to be the better of the two of us.

Robert Stokely, Lucky and Proud to be the Dad of
SGT Michael "Mike" James Stokely, KIA Operation Iraqi Freedom 16 Aug 05
2nd Platoon, E Troop 108th CAV 48h Brigaded GA NATL GUARD
15 miles south / southwest of Baghdad near Yusufiyah / IED

At the suggestion of Lone Pony, here is where you can submit a letter to the Post.

Any blogger reading who would like to help pressure the Post to print the other side's view of this, feel free to reprint this on your blog. While I normally don't do open trackbacks, I'm making an exception for this, and will put all links in the main body of this message later tonight.

Macsmind has already called for balance at the Post on this.
Tracked back at Don Surber

The following Bloggers have done trackbacks, links to, or mentioned this story:
Politics of A Patriot , Knockin' On the Golden Door, Hooah Wife, Tidbits and Treasures,
Peakah's Provocations, Atlas Shrugs, Lone Pony, Some Soldiers Mom, This That And Frog Hair,
The Truth Laid Bear, Camp Katrina, The Educated Shoprat

Many more have linked to those listed above, so I'm sure the word is getting out. I'm working on the e-mail to the Editors and will let you know if I hear anything back from them.

Technorati Tags: Irag,media,war

Hartland couple are model supporters of troops

By: Jan Rynearson, Features Editor

12/29/2005

Email to a friend Voice your opinion Printer-friendly

Wes and Donna Nakagiri of Hartland take helping U.S. troops seriously. For more than a year, the couple have been sending items to members of the armed services.

"We have no kids and no pets, we've adopted the armed forces," Donna, said, laughing. "It's very gratifying to know you've touched their (the servicemen's) lives."

The couple have received numerous letters, cards of thanks and e-mails for their endeavors. The servicemen call them heroes and thank them for taking time out of their lives to think of them.

"We are very appreciative for all the thank you's and we have invited many of these men to visit us," Donna said.

She is an Illinois native, and her husband, an engineer, grew up in California, first coming to Flint to attend GMI (General Motors Institute) in Flint, now Kettering University. They have lived in Hartland for 10 years.

Wes said he and his wife have been sending all types of care packages to troops, including, snacks, beef jerky, candy, magazines and personal care items.

"We first got involved when we read about a troop rally that was taking place in Howell," said Donna. "We bought up all the 50-cent paperbacks that they had at the Hartland library and went to the store and filled a cart with items and took them all to the rally. That was the beginning."

"I couldn't find appropriate greeting cards to send to the troops, so had someone do some custom-made ones for a while," she said. "Then I started a home business Cards4heroes.com LLC, which grew out of our troop support efforts."

The Web site is card4heroes.com. So now she creates cards for the troops.

The Nakagiris have been corresponding with Marine Captain Gary Bourland, a native of Denver, who is married and has two children.

"We kid each other about hockey. I keep telling him the Avalanche can't compare with my team (Detroit Red Wings)," said Donna.

One time when asked what the troops needed he wrote jokingly, a red Corvette and some supermodels.

"I kept thinking about this," said Donna. "We couldn't find a model of a red Corvette, but finally purchased one on e-Bay. As for the models, I asked Wes, how about contacting some modeling agencies and finding some autographed photos of top models?"

She went online and contacted top modeling agencies from New York City to California and places in between.

"I was surprised that my wife was able to make a positive contact," said Wes.

"I just happened to contact the right place at the right time," said Donna. "I contacted PLANITm, a modeling agency in New York. The agency's vice president, Patrick St. Thomas had a brother that was going to be deployed to Iraq in mid-January. He wanted this to happen."

They contacted top model Cindy Crawford and Niki Taylor, another well-known model, who agreed to participate. A dozen magazines with Crawford on the front sporting a "dog tag" were autographed by her and sent to the Nakagiris.

Taylor signed 30 photographs saying "Hurry home" to the servicemen.

Marilyn Model Management, Inc., another modeling agency, sent 40 un-autographed photos of different models.

Donna secured as many individual envelopes for the photos and sent them all out.

"We call the captain, Captain B. We I told him that those photos of the models were to go to only the single servicemen and he wasn't to get one. He will be surprised when he gets the red Corvette," said Donna.

The Nakagiris weren't sure the special photos would reach Iraq before Christmas, but the servicemen know they are on the way. Whenever they arrive, they are expected to make an impact.

As long as the need is there, the Nakagiris will continue to supply servicemen with supplies and cards. It's something that they love to do!

©Tri-County Times 2006