Memorial Day 2017

In late May, 2017, I found myself the senior Officer in Operations (flying) on base, so I was the de facto Wing Commander for the long weekend. I sent out the following to the base populace:

 911 AW Airmen,

As we face the upcoming weekend and the beginning of "summer," I want to thank each of you on behalf of the leadership here at the 911th AW for all you have done over the past year to secure our great nation.  Your individual efforts, great and small, have made a difference. 

Memorial Day is a time of remembrance and reflection on sacrifices made by those similar to you; dedicated individuals and family members who put the nation and our way of life ahead of their own personal lives and fortunes.

On Monday, as you look forward to time with family and friends, I invite you to attend a local ceremony commemorating these sacrifices. Hopefully you will look to the sky and see or hear a 911th AW C-130 paying tribute to those comrades-in-arms who have paid the ultimate price on our behalf.  As Abraham Lincoln so eloquently pointed out, we must value their efforts and carry on their legacy for the future of our great nation.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Abraham Lincoln

November 19, 1863

Thank you for your service.

Commander's Farewell Speech, 14 September, 2015

First, I'd like to thank the people who have made this event special. General James, Col. Newberry, Chief Good, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to be here. Col Samuelson, you have been wonderful to work for, and truly appreciate your true and honest leadership in the Operations Group. I have been around a long time, and it is refreshing to see excellence in action. To the other Commanders, Deputy Commanders, my fellow Squadron Commanders, men and women of the Air Expeditionary Wing, and especially any and all members of the Mad Mules, past and present, thank you for being here today. To the folks who made this event possible, MSgt, Mullins, my First Shirt, thank you for putting this together, it has been a pleasure working with you. Airman Davenport, that was an awesome rendition of our National Anthem, and I truly appreciate you making this day special. Chaplain DeLuise, thank you for your eloquent and moving blessing.

I would like to thank both General James and Col Dittus for accepting me for this Command, and Col Samuelson for not firing me. Believe me, I've presented plenty of opportunities over the last four months, with three Wing Commanders and four Operations Group Commanders. I just think I've managed to move along before I've worn out my welcome; but you all have made this gig pretty darn easy. 

To my fellow Squadron Commanders, you have been awesome to work with, and despite flunking EE 101, you have renewed my confidence that under YOUR leadership, MY United States Air Force will somehow continue to be strong and thrive, three and four, and five generations into the future. General James, I promised you I was bringing the best and the bravest to execute the Air Tasking Order for this Wing, and I think we've met that challenge. In two and a half months, the Mad Mules have flown 422 sorties, moved 1896 passengers, and 2.7 Million pounds of cargo. We've medivac'd 133 patients and provided the CFACC 1,820 hours of standby alert to support any emergency response need in the Gulf, launching in minimum time on three occasions. That is a tribute to 5-Star maintainers and aggressive, lean forward airlifters.

As I am frequently reminded, I've been in the Air Force a while now. I have found that leadership is very easy if you find the right people, put them in the right positions, and give them their lead. They will surprise you with their initiative and brilliance. I've had two brilliant DO's: Bill Fedorka and Chinky Kochansky. You handled the missions and aircrews like the true professionals you are, and offered sage advise when things got weird. LtCol Dave Bopp ran the C-21 operation like he owned the entire fleet. My ADOs, Schedulers and office staff performed like champs. Intel and Tactics gave the fliers the timely information they needed to make the right decisions to safely execute and complete their missions. AFE provided the equipment that truly does support life in flight, and we couldn't do it without them. 

Finally, my hat is off to these aircrews, who are literally at the tip of the spear... swooping down out of the night into the most austere landing zones in the world, often under fire; you executed with brashness and daring bravado to deliver critical men and material to all aspects of the fight. You ROCK!

I want to thank my wife Laura, and our family for an ungodly amount of support over more than 30 years. You do not fly and deploy as much as I have without their support and tacit permission for one more deployment to "fight the good fight." IF I have succeeded, it's because you enabled it. I love you all.

Finally, to the men and women of this Air Expeditionary Wing, I confidently turn the Squadron over to another set of true professionals. LtCol Ebrecht and his folks will seamlessly continue the mission in our wake. They cannot fail to meet or exceed our performance and will undoubtedly enhance the awesome reputation of the Grand Slam Wing. I wish them all the best.

To all of you:

Dirty-01, OUT!

Memorial Day

This weekend, Americans all across this nation pause to observe Memorial Day,  taking time from their busy lives to pay honor to those brave souls who have gone before us, defending precious freedoms and our way of life.

It is their willingness to take up arms and make unthinkable sacrifices that bears our testimony and reverence today.

Many people will tell you why this day is special. I’d like you to hear it from the people themselves, those brave men and women, who for 240 years have take on the challenge to stand up and fight for our way of life. By sharing some letters from soldiers of different wars, I hope to give you a sense what they went through so you and I can stand here today. 

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The Revolutionary War. Most likely a very bitterly cold winter day in Valley Forge, PA.

December 14, 1777

People who live at home in Luxury and Ease, quietly possessing their habitation, Enjoying their Families in peace, have but a very faint idea of the continual Anxiety the man endures who is in a Camp.

What Sweet Felicities have I left at home; A charming Wife -- pretty Children -- Good Beds--good food -- good Cookery -- all agreeable -- all harmonious. Here, all Confusion -- smoke and Cold -- hunger and filthyness -- A pox on my bad luck.

~ Albigence Waldo
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During the Civil War, a soldier wrote his friend, Ann:

June 10, 1861, Nashville

Ann,

It makes my heart sick to think of the state of our once happy and yet beloved country . . . to see two brave armies armed with all the deadly instruments that art and wealth could procure and to think that when they meet in the bloody battlefields what destruction and misery they can produce.

What is most horrid of all in this contest is that brother will meet brother and father will meet son in the strife.

No matter what side I might take, might bring me in contact with a cousin or uncle, & god forbid that I should ever be found in arms against either.

Ann, I will be in your town by the 27th, but should I not be prompt do not despair for these are squirrelly times.

Your friend, P. Burns
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In the midst of the US involvement in WWI, a young soldier wrote home to his family,

December 14, 1918

My Darling Mother, Dad and all:

The argonne; forty days with the booming of the guns, the nerve racking whine of the projectiles and the crash of the bombs ever in my ears, breathing and eating the damnable gases that have shocked the civilized world. Forty days of struggling, toiling and praying with very little food and sleep.It was forty days of unremitting hell. In fact, the comparison is hardly fair to hell.

It rained continually from the time we got there until the time we left.

The rain was finely woven and clammy as a funeral garment. It had a way of soaking through the skin, on into the body of a man until his very heart seemed to be pumping the rain water along his veins instead of blood. It would wet all the world.

God knows where the sun has gone.

Your devoted son and brother,

Hugh
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During WWII, a 19 year-old Army Private shared these thoughts with his brother:

Dear Mitchell:

I don't think any man can exactly explain combat. Take a combination of fear, anger, hunger, thirst, exhaustion, disgust, loneliness, homesickness, and wrap that all up in one reaction and you might approach the feelings a fellow has. It makes you feel mighty small, helpless and alone.
 
The battle seems like something in a faraway land. The roar is even as bad as the movies have it. The cries of the wounded are pitiful. The dead seem forsaken. Things rage on all around them, but they are still and quiet.

~ Pvt Paul Curtis
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War can be a lonely place. During the Korean conflict, a young soldier wrote one last letter home to his girlfriend: 

Hill 10-6-2 

Dear Babe,

I just received your letter in this morning's mail. I held it in my hand for a minute while a little voice in the back of my head whispered, "This is it. This is the one."

You tried to "let me down easy."

I never said I was the greatest guy on earth; you did. Anyway, he's there. I'm here.

"Be careful," you tell me. "Take care." I almost laughed out loud. We wouldn't want to see me hurt, would we? There's no need to worry about me. I'll be all right.... Do I say something brilliant like "may all your troubles be little ones?"

How about "If you ever need a friend"? That presumes a future.

There are 500,000 N. Koreans and Chinese on the other side of that hill bound and determined to make sure I don't have a future. Over here where your past is your last breath, your present is this breath, and your future is your next breath, you don't make too many promises. Which leaves me what?

Goodbye,

Leon

Two days later, Leon charged an enemy machine gun nest and was killed
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In the 1960s, our soldiers were mired in the jungles of Vietnam. A young platoon leader wrote home about his men and mission:

Dearest Wife,

I am out on ambush with eleven men and a medic -- after everything is set up in position I have nothing to do but think about why I am here. 

Why do I have to be the one to tell someone to do something that may get him blown away?

Being a good platoon leader is a lonely job. I don't want to really get to know anybody over here because it would be bad enough to lose a man

-- I damn sure don't want to lose a friend. But as hard as I try not to get involved with my men I still can't help liking them, and getting close to a few. They come up and say "hey do you want to see picture of my wife or girl?"

Like I said it gets lonely trying to stay separate.

Maybe sometime I'll try to tell you how scared I am now. There is nothing I can do about it, but wait for another day to start + finish.

All my love always,

~ 1st Lt. Dean Allen
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25 years later, our forces deployed to Southwest Asia, and liberated Kuwait during the first Gulf War.

8 March 91

Dear Y'all:

It never seemed like a war. More like a field problem. Even when stuff was burning all around you and firing going off all over the place. It was very real, but more a curiosity than anything else.When we were breaching the main Iraqi defense line, an idiot popped up from a trench and started firing. My tank was the first to return fire. You just don't think of it as someone shooting at you. It's just a target, like on a range.

We passed Kuwait city on the coast road. I can't describe it. I mean the scene on the highway. We all just looked as we drove through the now silent carnage going God damn, God damn. ...

There was a dead Iraqi in a car, eyes wide open, frozen in a silent scream.

I still think of the guy I shot. If I hadn't done it, he could have been in a Prisoner of War camp right now, waiting to go home, just like me.

This only lasted four days. It wasn't even long enough to seem like a war.

~ SSgt. Dan Welch
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A decade later, our soldiers were back in Iraq. Pfc. Rachel K. Bosveld, 19, of Oshkosh, Wis wrote home to her mother to assure here she was okay after a convoy truck accident.

Monday, Oct. 20, 2003

I'm doing great this week. Sure, I've dodged lots of bullets and such, gotten little to no sleep and eaten nasty food, but I am doing great.

I got to drive a tank! I got a tour, learned how to operate everything, load everything, and I got to DRIVE IT! I was tooth from ear to ear!

I'm getting a Purple Heart for the accident, along with eight other people in my platoon. . . . Someone is always getting injured here.

There have been no fatalities so far in my company, though, just lots of injuries.

So, how are you? Eighteen days till my birthday! I can't wait! No one probably even knows when it is over here.

Well, bye for now, just wanted to let you know I'm O.K. and I miss you.

I love you,

Rachel


Rachel died six days later in a mortar attack
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These are our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, husbands and uncles, sons and daughters. Each and every one, an American hero. As you and I pause on THIS Memorial Day, let us remember and honor these brave men and women who have answered the call of their country time and time again, traveling to lands far from home, far from friends and family and everything they hold dear… many to fall in battle … all so we may live in freedom.

God bless these United States of America.