Kissing Cousins

Kisses end, and bubbles...pop.
Eyes avert, or they drop,
but kiss again, you know they will
(the loss there warrants more),
sensation blending all
toward what lies left in store,
tasting touch and smell, too true,
and visions, O!  See the floating orb,
glistening, gleaming there between them
(so seeming kith, yet kin),
a planet's worth of expectations?
Alas, adrift.  It cannot be:
They are first blood relations...pop.


(12/18/2013) 

Out of Context 21

Well, it was bad.  Maybe there wasn’t the horrific brutality The Veteran experienced in Japan, but it was bad.  I learned that, not from conversation with Rangers, but by reading books such as Twice to Freedom, The Last Escape, and Soldiers of Misfortune, the latter a book Clarence Goad recommended that argues many American POWs ended up in Soviet hands and were never repatriated, never heard from again.  Clarence would know.  He was an escaped POW who ended up in the Soviet sector near war’s end and had a devil of a time getting a US Naval ship to take him on board.  At first, they advised him that, since he was in the Soviet sector, he was required to turn himself over to the Soviets, not the Americans.  Clarence knew better and would have none of that.

            Micky Romine had an equally difficult time getting back on the American side.  The Soviets liberated his camp near the Elbe River, and that side of the river belonged to the Soviets; the Americans controlled the other side.  According to Micky, the U.S. and Soviets had a POW exchange program in the works, but the Soviet POWs had no desire to return to the Soviet side because they believed, since they had surrendered, they would face either a firing squad or a trip to Siberia.  The U.S. Army wouldn’t force them to go; therefore, the Soviets refused to return some 5,000 American POWs.  Many believe those POWs ended up in Soviet gulags, never to return.  Twenty-two G.I.s got lucky, though, and Micky was one of them. Disguised as a U.S. Army patrol that numbered exactly twenty-two soldiers and frequently crossed the Elbe River bridge, Micky and the others nonchalantly marched across the bridge and into the American zone, into freedom.

From "Prisoner of War: It wasn't too bad"--2008

Out of Context 19

Some things my brothers and I learned through demonstration and repetition.  If we slammed the door, we might have to go back out and demonstrate the proper way to open and close a door.  Depending on the severity of the slam, we might have to demonstrate it quite a few times.  Whatever the task, we were instructed that, “Quality comes first; then we’ll worry about quantity.”  However, in not many words, he taught me that quality was relative, or came in different forms.  We were rebuilding a wood and fabric aircraft, had the wings off and the entire airplane stripped down to a skeleton.  My job was to clean, sand and varnish the fuselage.  Well, I was putting on the first coat of spar varnish, and I thought I was doing a great job, being very meticulous: no runs, sags or brush marks.  I glimpsed dad watching me, and I thought, “Ah-ha! He is no doubt admiring my work and thinking how meticulous and conscientious I am.”  While that may have been what he was thinking, what he said was, “Who do you think you are, Rembrandt?  Put some varnish on there.”  It didn't take much thinking to appreciate the wisdom.


From "Ranger Fathers"--2006

Out of Context 17

Ranger Red Gilbert’s thievery, however, had more positive results (Red told me this story down at Ft. Benning).  During the invasion of Sicily, prior to landing, Red and other Rangers broke into the ship’s galley stores. The stock was in a wire cage, but Red had wire cutters to be used ashore if necessary.  Once in, they found ice cream and had just polished off a five gallon bucket of the sweet, culinary delight when the ship’s loudspeakers announced, “Attention on deck!  First boat team, man your boat!”  Being in the first boat, Red made for the landing craft, but not before grabbing another bucket and balancing it on the stack of mortar tubes that hung at his midsection.  On the way to shore, the bucket was passed and each Ranger scooped a handful.  Red said that he was later asked if he was scared during the invasion.  He replied, “No, I was eating ice cream.” 

     

From "Bon Appetite, Ranger!"--2011   

  

Out of Context 11

           “I’ve got it.  I would like coffee, though, if you don’t mind, and a few of those Toll House cookies.”

            “Yes, sir,” said Ariel.  As he headed for the kitchen, thunder rumbled overhead. 

            “Boy, oh, boy. Brewing up a big one,” repeated the wizard.

            “Sounds like it, sir,” called Ariel.

            The wizard backed up to his recliner and collapsed into it.  From the chair, he had a view of the picture window where he saw tree leaves beginning to dance.  More thunder sounded.

            “In like a lamb and out like a lion, this year,” said the wizard.  “This should prove fun to watch.  Did I tell you lightning struck this tree once?” he asked, but Ariel didn’t hear, and the wizard continued sotto voce.  “Well, it did—long ago.  I was a young man in this house, the new wizard, and I was in love, like you, and everything was in front of me, not behind.  Oh, I say long ago, but it all seems so recent.  It went by so quickly, so quickly.  I’d say I’ve had a good run, but quite frankly, I can’t.  I feel like I just got on my feet, just got up to speed, and I’m looking at the finish line.  I suppose that’s the way of the world, or for the lucky ones, in any event.  Like Willy said, ‘If you get old, you’re lucky, I guess.’  No, no, I have no complaints, no regrets, other than the brevity, the ephemeral nature, the transience of it all, but then, we’re not gods, we’re mortals.  God has the forever of infinity: That’s his cross.  While we…we must give-way, make room.  That truth is inconvenient, but necessary.   So why do the living abhor and ridicule the dead—it’s not their fault, is it?”

            “Were you speaking to me, sir?” asked Ariel, bringing in a tray of coffee and Toll House cookies.

From "A Quachita Fairy Tale" 1981-2013

           

Out of Context 9

The Ranger Centre, by the way, is right behind the Andrew Jackson Cottage, where President Andrew Jackson’s parents and two brothers lived before immigrating to the United States in 1765. Andrew Jackson was born in 1767, either in South Carolina or North Carolina (history isn’t quite certain). Roughly one third of U.S. Presidents had Ulster Scots surnames and ancestral heritage linked to Northern Ireland.  Although not the father of a president, but perhaps more important, James Rogers, along with his wife, Mary and four children immigrated from Londonderry, Northern Ireland to Boston around 1730. On November 7, 1731, James and Mary had a fifth child they named Robert Rogers, known today as The Father of the Rangers.

Ironically, the first Ranger arrived near Carrickfergus in 1778, not 1942.  It was a ship, not a soldier.  The USS Ranger, commanded by John Paul Jones, attacked the Royal Navy’s Drake in the dead of night (appropriate for Rangers). They muffed the attack and skedaddled back across the Irish Sea, but returned to Carrickfergus a few days later, did battle with the Drake, and captured it: an important victory for our young country against, at the time, the greatest naval power in the world. Some 160 years later, the RMS Queen Mary hauled American troops from New York to Belfast.  Ships were important for Rangers, and Belfast was a ship- building city.  As Northern Ireland contains most of Ulster’s counties, some refer to it as Ulster.  Belfast turned out ships that were christened with names such as HMS Royal Ulsterman, HMS Ulster Monarch, as well as HMS Royal Scotsman.  It was fitting that the Rangers, born in Northern Ireland and trained in Scotland, were transported into battle aboard those three ships.  In addition to the North Africa invasion, the Royal Ulsterman was a HQ ship for Operation Husky, and later transported Darby’s Rangers to Anzio: from the beginning to the end.  Carrickfergus was the beginning.  On the city’s coat of arms, there is a Latin phrase, Gloria Prisca Novatur, which translates, The Glory of the Old Made New. That motto could be applied to every generation of Rangers.

From "Just a Wee Deoch an' Doris"--2010  

Out of Context 8

put me and Charlie to work running the Hilton’s movie theatre, where we introduced and played various Ranger videos.

            It is not difficult to describe the feeling of being surrounded by Rangers the day after 9/11.  The feeling was of absolute security, confidence and pride.  Charlie and I had stumbled into the camp of the greatest warriors in the world, an extended family consisting of WWII Rangers, some Korean and Vietnam era Rangers, and active duty Rangers, the latter soon to find their way to Afghanistan; all of whom, despite the age difference, had a calm demeanor that said, “Listen, if we’re buddies, I’m the greatest guy in the world; if not, don’t tread on me, pal.”  Rangers: Quintessential Americans.

            So Charlie and I were out by the pool, taking a break from the theatre, when we heard someone shout, “HEY!”  We looked around, but couldn’t determine the source.  Then we heard it again: “HEY!”  We looked to the far side of the pool and saw a man sitting on a bench, bandages on his forearms, his hands resting on a cane between his legs.  A tall blond woman stood by his side.  He thrust his chin at us:  “HEY!”  Charlie and I looked around, then at each other.  We pointed to ourselves, a silent, “Us?”

            “YEAH, YOU!  COME HERE!”  He wasn’t a large man, but he had a large and commanding voice, so as commanded, we went.  And that was our introduction to Stephen J. Meade and his lovely wife, Joan.  As it turned out, Steve just wanted company.  He wanted to know who we were, where we were from, what we did; he wanted to know about our Ranger father.  As it turned out, Steve was also a member or the original 1^st Ranger Battalion, as was our father.  In fact, in June of 1942, it was Capt. Stephen J. Meade, and he commanded  A Company or the original 1^st Battalion.

From "Colonel Stephen J. Meade: a Ranger Always"--2007