Prayers for "Darkhorse"

Please add these Marines and their families to your prayer lists if you are so moved. These particular Marines have had it worse than most units by far.

Shorter Half sent me the following:
The young Marines in 3/5 Marines ("Darkhorse") have been taking a beating -- the psychological impact of losing so many, so fast (they only arrived in-country this October) is enormously high. The toll on their families may be even worse -- even the families of unwounded Marines have to be experiencing feelings of inevitability, that it's only a matter of time before they get the knock on the door.

I verified this with Snopes, first. The total number is actually higher than when the original request hit the Internet -- at least 19 KIA and over 50 WIA from October to now. (KIA figures are as of 6 Dec, the WIA figures are as of the end of November.) That's a lot for one battalion in two months.

The originial e-mail:

We are asking everyone to say a prayer for "Darkhorse" 3rd Battalion 5th Marines and their families. They are fighting it out in Afghanistan & they have lost 9 marines in 4 days. IT WOULD BE NICE TO SEE the message spread if more could pass it on.

Semper Fi, God Bless America and God Bless the United States Marine Corps...
Often Tested, Always Faithful, Brothers Forever

Claire FitzGerald, Chaplain
Marine Corps League, Dept. of Washington

Question about drop-legs holsters

Pros and cons, please. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t go all mall-ninja fanboi on me. I ask because after much careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that there are only two comfortable places for me to carry. Shoulder rig and drop leg. And this is why:

This is my Dad, circa 1947, give or take a year, when he was in his early thirties. See the short waist? See the long legs? Well, I inherited all that from him, plus some rather abrupt curves in vicinity of my hips from my Mom. There just isn’t any way for me to comfortably carry on a belt without something digging in, or sticking out. (And, oh do I wish I could!) And drawing? My elbows just about rest on my hips to begin with. In my aging, decrapitated state, I’d dislocate something if I had to draw in hurry. And no, purse carry won’t work for me, as I occasionally put it down -- like when I’m eating in a restaurant. That loss of control is a no-go for me.

So if anybody (Bueller?) has any pointers, I'd love to hear therm.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Norway National Guard Show

Back when I was doing the marchy-marchy, bangy-bangy thing with cannon and musket, my favorite part (besides the "blammo") was the drill and ceremony.



Who knew The Ecstasy of Gold and When Johnny Comes Marching Home worked so well together?

Happy Saint Barbara’s Day

My living history experience began (crap, has it been 18 years??) as a Royal Artillery gunner on a Rev War reproduction 3-lb. field piece. Today is the feast day of St. Barbara, patron saint of those who deal with things that go “blammo”. I no longer have the youth, vigor and figure that allowed me to masquerade as a young man and serve on a gun, but I do miss it.

St. Barbara was removed from the Calendar of Saints in 1969, but I have a St. Barbara’s medallion that lives in my range bag. Some time, when I’ve got enough people to help me drink it, I’d like to try the punch outlined here.

Cthulhu’s own Christmas Tree

Once upon a time, the R. family used to go select and cut down a fresh Christmas tree each December. Somewhere, there are pictures of Sweet Daughter at 3 months old sitting in her car carrier next to our intended victim harvest.

The first year she became mobile, all I had time to do was cut it down, put it up where it wasn’t accessible and throw a single strand of lights around the top 2 feet of it. We no longer had the leisure time to go hunt down and harvest the tree, and then actually get it home and decorated. So I came up with the great idea of getting a pre-lit artificial one. We’d save time! We’d save money in the long run! Shorter Half wouldn’t be allergic to the fake one! No needles to vacuum up for the next 6 months! The risk of fire would go way down! We couldn’t forget to water it! We could get one with those new-fangled LED lights and save money on our electric bill!

So I did my research, and waited for them to go on sale. I selected a lovely tree. It had realistic artificial tips. It was pre-lit in a rainbow of colors. It had those dam#ed LED lights. I got it home, put it up and found out the lights didn’t twinkle, they seethed. There was something about the blue ones (and to some extent the green and purple ones) that sucked the very soul from my body. Looking directly at them was like being in the presence of my dementor. Even the red and gold ones seemed bitter. Nothing warm and cozy and joyous about this tree – you could almost hear it hiss at you as you walked by. If Cthulhu had a Christmas tree, this was it.

So while Shorter Half is marching in a Christmas Parade tomorrow with his WWII unit, Sweet Daughter and I will be looking for a reasonably inexpensive, bright, warm and twinkly pre-lit tree. And Cthulhu’s tree can sit in storage and seethe. The only question now is all white, or multi-color?

Stuck in neutral

I had a lovely Thanksgiving. Four days of (relative) relaxation on a 150 acre farm just outside of Annapolis. (And if anyone is interested in buying it, let me know and I'll arrange for an introduction. It's on the mainland side of the Bay Bridge. Includes a 200-year-old recently renovated farm house and several new outbuildings. One of a kind property on the water.) I don’t know what it is, but since my return to the real world, I just can’t motivate to blog or anything else. Maybe it’s the short days – although I can’t complain – my office faces south and has a huge window. More likely it’s the cold. I HATE the cold. I had to spend 13 years and two weeks (not that I’m counting, or anything) in Minnesota, and I did not acclimate well. Christmas is only 3 weeks away, and my house looks like it threw up on itself, and that’s without having pulled out the decorations yet. Next weekend Sweet Daughter and I are heading to Williamsburg to meet up with a handful of people both for me to do some fittings, and to get a muslin fit (for me!) for my riding habit.

I’m thinking a hot buttered rum and turning in early tonight might not be a bad idea.