If only we could stop it but it centers on UN Karaganda 21 and Common core education. The final step is in the college placements., and since all most all politicians from both parties are for the change its almost impossible to stop. The goal is to have it mostly completed by mid century. This is not speculation I have been to the planning sessions in north East Ohio — our program is called Vibrant2040. It will be different in different parts of the country but its 100% funded by the federal government.
Monthly Archives: August 2015
Ten Basic American Beliefs
By Prof. Paul Eidelberg
In evaluating the fitness and competence of the various candidates competing for the Presidency of the United States, the voter will surely wonder about a candidate’s ethical and intellectual character in general, and about his or her identification with American culture in particular.
As I ponder the basic beliefs of the United States, and if I also consider a few measures that should be taken to preserve these beliefs, I find myself among a diminishing percentage of college-educated Americans that can earnestly say the following about their own country, in which they enjoy the blessings of freedom and due process of law:
1. We believe in the Biblical heritage of the American people.
2. We believe that this heritage is the touchstone of American Exceptionalism.
3. We believe that the ideas and ideals of the Bible of Israel, which permeated the curricular of American colleges during the colonial and constitution-forming period, underlie the greatness of America’s Founding Fathers.
4. We believe that America’s first foundational document, the Declaration of Independence, conveys the philosophical and theological foundation of the American Republic by affirming the “Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God.”
5. We believe that America’s second foundational document, the Federal Constitution, provides the institutional structure for implementing the ends of the Declaration of Independence by proclaiming man’s inalienable rights to “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness” – which rights logically entail limited government and institutional checks and balances.
6. We believe that the previous principles should occupy a conspicuous place in all levels of American education.
7. We believe that American foreign policy should be consistent with the ethical monotheism of the Declaration of Independence and should therefore exemplify the benevolence and magnanimity emphasized by George Washington in his celebrated “Farewell Address.”
8. We believe that ethical monotheism constitutes the unbreakable bond that unites America and Israel and should stand as the bulwark against any form of global imperialism.
9. We believe that Congress, in accordance with Article II, Section 2, of the Constitution, should limit the appellate jurisdiction of the Supreme Court, while affirming the venerable principle of “original intent” (of the Founders) as the basis of judicial rulings.
10. We believe that a non-partisan Candidate Transparency Office should be established to disseminate information about a candidate’s place of birth, education, financial assets, sources of income, membership in non-governmental organizations, and previous public service.
Only for those that have been a military commander!
Subject: Burial At Sea
This is quite lengthy, but once you start reading it you will finish it. This says it like it really was and is to this day. Though I was not the one who made the notifications, I was one of those who escorted the remains home to their families and this story brought it all back.
This only for those who can and will appreciate it. This account is one of a kind. A powerful one that touches your heart. Tough duty then, as it is now. Unfortunately, not likely to be viewed by younger folks who really should see it. Burial at Sea.
by Lt. Col. George Goodson, USMC (Ret)
by Lt. Col. George Goodson, USMC (Ret)
In my 76th year, the events of my life appear to me, from time to time, as a series of vignettes. Some were significant; most were trivial. War is the seminal event in the life of everyone that has endured it. Though I fought in Korea and the Dominican Republic and was wounded there, Vietnam was my war.
Now 42 years have passed and, thankfully, I rarely think of those days in Cambodia, Laos, and the panhandle of North Vietnam where small teams of Americans and Montagnards fought much larger elements of the North Vietnamese Army.
Instead I see vignettes: some exotic, some mundane:
*The smell of Nuc Mam.
*The heat, dust, and humidity.
*The blue exhaust of cycles clogging the streets.
*Elephants moving silently through the tall grass.
*Hard eyes behind the servile smiles of the villagers.
*Standing on a mountain in Laos and hearing a tiger roar.
*A young girl squeezing my hand as my medic delivered her baby.
*The flowing Ao Dais of the young women biking down Tran Hung Dao.
*My two years as Casualty Notification Officer in North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland.
*The smell of Nuc Mam.
*The heat, dust, and humidity.
*The blue exhaust of cycles clogging the streets.
*Elephants moving silently through the tall grass.
*Hard eyes behind the servile smiles of the villagers.
*Standing on a mountain in Laos and hearing a tiger roar.
*A young girl squeezing my hand as my medic delivered her baby.
*The flowing Ao Dais of the young women biking down Tran Hung Dao.
*My two years as Casualty Notification Officer in North Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland.
It was late 1967. I had just returned after 18 months in Vietnam. Casualties were increasing. I moved my family from Indianapolis to Norfolk, rented a house, enrolled my children in their fifth or sixth new school, and bought a second car. A week later, I put on my uniform and drove 10 miles to Little Creek, Virginia. I hesitated before entering my new office. Appearance is important to career Marines. I was no longer, if ever, a poster Marine. I had returned from my third tour in Vietnam only 30 days before. At 5’9″, I now weighed 128 pounds – 37 pounds below my normal weight. My uniforms fit ludicrously, my skin was yellow from malaria medication, and I think I had a twitch or two.
I straightened my shoulders, walked into the office, looked at the nameplate on a Staff Sergeant’s desk and said, “Sergeant Jolly, I’m Lieutenant Colonel Goodson. Here are my orders and my Qualification Jacket.”
Sergeant Jolly stood, looked carefully at me, took my orders, stuck out his hand; we shook and he asked, “How long were you there, Colonel?” I replied, “18 months this time.”
Jolly breathed, “you must be a slow learner, Colonel.” I smiled. Jolly said, “Colonel, I’ll show you to your office and bring in the Sergeant Major. I said, “No, let’s just go straight to his office.” Jolly nodded, hesitated, and lowered his
voice, “Colonel, the Sergeant Major. He’s been in this job two years. He’s packed pretty tight. I’m worried about him.” I nodded.
voice, “Colonel, the Sergeant Major. He’s been in this job two years. He’s packed pretty tight. I’m worried about him.” I nodded.
Jolly escorted me into the Sergeant Major’s office. “Sergeant Major, this is Colonel Goodson, the new Commanding Office. The Sergeant Major stood, extended his hand and said, “Good to see you again, Colonel.” I responded, “Hello Walt, how are you?” Jolly looked at me, raised an eyebrow, walked out, and closed the door. I sat down with the Sergeant Major. We had the obligatory cup of coffee and talked about mutual acquaintances. Walt’s stress was palpable.
Finally, I said, “Walt, what’s the hell’s wrong?” He turned his chair, looked out the window and said, “George, you’re going to wish you were back in Nam before you leave here. I’ve been in the Marine Corps since 1939. I was in the Pacific 36 months, Korea for 14 months, and Vietnam for 12 months. Now I come here to bury these kids. I’m putting my letter in. I can’t take it anymore.” I said, “OK Walt. If that’s what you want, I’ll endorse your request for retirement and do what I can to push it through Headquarters Marine Corps.”
Sergeant Major Walt Xxxxx retired 12 weeks later. He had been a good Marine for 28 years, but he had seen too much death and too much suffering. He was used up.
Over the next 16 months, I made 28 death notifications, conducted 28 military funerals, and made 30 notifications to the families of Marines that were severely wounded or missing in action. Most of the details of those casualty notifications have now, thankfully, faded from memory. Four, however, remain.
*MY FIRST NOTIFICATION*
My third or fourth day in Norfolk, I was notified of the death of a 19 year old Marine. This notification came by telephone from Headquarters Marine Corps. The information detailed:
*Name, rank, and serial number.
*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.
*Date of and limited details about the Marine’s death.
*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.
*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.
*Name, rank, and serial number.
*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.
*Date of and limited details about the Marine’s death.
*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.
*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.
The boy’s family lived over the border in North Carolina, about 60 miles away. I drove there in a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into North Carolina, I stopped at a small country store/service station/Post Office. I went in to ask directions. Three people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The Store owner walked up and addressed them by name, “Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper.”
I was stunned. My casualty’s next-of-kin’s name was John Cooper! I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, “I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address)?”
The father looked at me-I was in uniform – and then, shaking, bent at the waist, he vomited. His wife looked horrified at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion. I think I caught her before she hit the floor. The owner took a bottle of whiskey out of a drawer and handed it to Mr. Cooper who drank. I answered their questions for a few minutes. Then I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed an hour or so until the family began arriving. I returned the store owner to his business. He thanked me and said, “Mister, I wouldn’t have your job for a million dollars.” I shook his hand and said; “Neither would I.” I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk. Violating about five Marine Corps regulations, I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family while they ate dinner, went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night, alone. My Marines steered clear of me for days. I had made my first death notification.
*THE FUNERALS*
Weeks passed with more notifications and more funerals. I borrowed Marines from the local Marine Corps Reserve and taught them to conduct a military funeral: how to carry a casket, how to fire the volleys and how to fold the flag. When I presented the flag to the mother, wife, or father, I always said, “All Marines share in your grief.” I had been
instructed to say, “On behalf of a grateful nation….” I didn’t think the nation was grateful, so I didn’t say that.
instructed to say, “On behalf of a grateful nation….” I didn’t think the nation was grateful, so I didn’t say that.
Sometimes, my emotions got the best of me and I couldn’t speak. When that happened, I just handed them the flag and touched a shoulder. They would look at me and nod. Once a mother said to me, “I’m so sorry you have this terrible job.” My eyes filled with tears and I leaned over and kissed her.
*ANOTHER NOTIFICATION*
Six weeks after my first notification, I had another. This was a young PFC. I drove to his mother’s house. As always, I was in uniform and driving a Marine Corps staff car. I parked in front of the house, took a deep breath, and walked towards the house. Suddenly the door flew open, a middle-aged woman rushed out. She looked at me and ran across the yard, screaming “NO! NO! NO! NO!” I hesitated. Neighbors came out. I ran to her, grabbed her, and whispered stupid things to reassure her. She collapsed. I picked her up and carried her into the house. Eight or nine neighbors followed. Ten or fifteen minutes later, the father came in followed by ambulance personnel. I have no recollection of
leaving. The funeral took place about two weeks later. We went through the drill. The mother never looked at me. The father looked at me once and shook his head sadly.
leaving. The funeral took place about two weeks later. We went through the drill. The mother never looked at me. The father looked at me once and shook his head sadly.
*ANOTHER NOTIFICATION*
One morning, as I walked in the office, the phone was ringing. Sergeant Jolly held the phone up and said, “You’ve
got another one, Colonel.” I nodded, walked into my office, picked up the phone, took notes, thanked the officer
making the call, I have no idea why, and hung up. Jolly, who had listened, came in with a special Telephone Directory
that translates telephone numbers into the person’s address and place of employment.
The father of this casualty was a Longshoreman. He lived a mile from my office. I called the Longshoreman’s Union Office and asked for the Business Manager. He answered the phone, I told him who I was, and asked for the father’s schedule. The Business Manager asked, “Is it his son?” I said nothing. After a moment, he said, in a low voice, “Tom is at home today.” I said, “Don’t call him. I’ll take care of that.” The Business Manager said, “Aye, Aye Sir,” and then explained, “Tom and I were Marines in WWII.”
got another one, Colonel.” I nodded, walked into my office, picked up the phone, took notes, thanked the officer
making the call, I have no idea why, and hung up. Jolly, who had listened, came in with a special Telephone Directory
that translates telephone numbers into the person’s address and place of employment.
The father of this casualty was a Longshoreman. He lived a mile from my office. I called the Longshoreman’s Union Office and asked for the Business Manager. He answered the phone, I told him who I was, and asked for the father’s schedule. The Business Manager asked, “Is it his son?” I said nothing. After a moment, he said, in a low voice, “Tom is at home today.” I said, “Don’t call him. I’ll take care of that.” The Business Manager said, “Aye, Aye Sir,” and then explained, “Tom and I were Marines in WWII.”
I got in my staff car and drove to the house. I was in uniform. I knocked and a woman in her early forties answered the door. I saw instantly that she was clueless. I asked, “Is Mr. Smith home?” She smiled pleasantly and responded, “Yes, but he’s eating breakfast now. Can you come back later?” I said, “I’m sorry. It’s important. I need to see him now.” She nodded, stepped back into the beach house and said, “Tom, it’s for you.”
A moment later, a ruddy man in his late forties, appeared at the door. He looked at me, turned absolutely pale, steadied himself, and said, “Jesus Christ man, he’s only been there three weeks!”
Months passed. More notifications and more funerals. Then one day while I was running, Sergeant Jolly stepped outside the building and gave a loud whistle, two fingers in his mouth…… I never could do that….. and held an imaginary phone to his ear.
Another call from Headquarters Marine Corps. I took notes, said, “Got it.” and hung up. I had stopped saying “Thank You” long ago.
Jolly, “Where?” Me, “Eastern Shore of Maryland. The father is a retired Chief Petty Officer. His brother will accompany the body back from Vietnam….” Jolly shook his head slowly, straightened, and then said, “This time of day, it’ll take three hours to get there and back. I’ll call the Naval Air Station and borrow a helicopter. And I’ll have Captain Tolliver get one of his men to meet you and drive you to the Chief’s home.”
He did, and 40 minutes later, I was knocking on the father’s door. He opened the door, looked at me, then looked at the Marine standing at parade rest beside the car, and asked, “Which one of my boys was it, Colonel?” I stayed a couple of hours, gave him all the information, my office and home phone number and told him to call me, anytime. He called me that evening about 2300 (11:00PM). “I’ve gone through my boy’s papers and found his will. He asked to be buried at sea. Can you make that happen?” I said, “Yes I can, Chief. I can and I will.”
My wife who had been listening said, “Can you do that?” I told her, “I have no idea. But I’m going to break my ass trying.” I called Lieutenant General Alpha Bowser, Commanding General, Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, at home about 2330, explained the situation, and asked, “General, can you get me a quick appointment with the Admiral at Atlantic Fleet Headquarters?” General Bowser said,” George, you be there tomorrow at 0900. He will see you.”
I was and the Admiral did. He said coldly, “How can the Navy help the Marine Corps, Colonel?” I told him the story. He turned to his Chief of Staff and said, “Which is the sharpest destroyer in port?” The Chief of Staff responded with a
name. The Admiral called the ship, “Captain, you’re going to do a burial at sea. You’ll report to a Marine Lieutenant Colonel Goodson until this mission is completed… “
He hung up, looked at me, and said, “The next time you need a ship, Colonel, call me. You don’t have to sic Al Bowser on my ass.” I responded, “Aye Aye, Sir” and got the hell out of his office. I went to the ship and met with the Captain, Executive Officer, and the Senior Chief. Sergeant Jolly and I trained the ship’s crew for four days. Then Jolly raised a question none of us had thought of. He said, “These government caskets are air tight. How do we keep it from
floating?”
All the high priced help, including me, sat there looking dumb. Then the Senior Chief stood and said, “Come on Jolly. I know a bar where the retired guys from World War II hang out.” They returned a couple of hours later, slightly the worst for wear, and said, “It’s simple; we cut four 12″ holes in the outer shell of the casket on each side and insert 300 lbs. of lead in the foot end of the casket. We can handle that, no sweat.”
The day arrived. The ship and the sailors looked razor sharp. General Bowser, the Admiral, a US Senator, and a Navy Band were on board. The sealed casket was brought aboard and taken below for modification. The ship got underway to the 12-fathom depth. The sun was hot. The ocean flat. The casket was brought aft and placed on a catafalque. The Chaplin spoke. The volleys were fired. The flag was removed, folded, and I gave it to the father. The band played “Eternal Father Strong to Save.” The casket was raised slightly at the head and it slid into the sea.
The heavy casket plunged straight down about six feet. The incoming water collided with the air pockets in the outer shell. The casket stopped abruptly, rose straight out of the water about three feet, stopped, and slowly slipped back into the sea. The air bubbles rising from the sinking casket sparkled in the sunlight as the casket disappeared from sight forever….
The next morning I called a personal friend, Lieutenant General Oscar Peatross, at Headquarters Marine Corps and
said, “General, get me out of here. I can’t take this anymore.” I was transferred two weeks later. I was a good Marine but, after 17 years, I had seen too much death and too much suffering. I was used up.
said, “General, get me out of here. I can’t take this anymore.” I was transferred two weeks later. I was a good Marine but, after 17 years, I had seen too much death and too much suffering. I was used up.
Vacating the house, my family and I drove to the office in a two-car convoy. I said my goodbyes. Sergeant Jolly walked out with me. He waved at my family, looked at me with tears in his eyes, came to attention, saluted, and said, “Well Done, Colonel. Well Done.” I felt as if I had received the Medal of Honor!
A veteran is someone who, at one point, wrote a blank check made payable to ‘The United States of America for an amount of up to and including their life.’ That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no
longer understand it.’
The Real Islam
Incredible. This video lets you see how radical Islam has made terror and violence an integral part of life in many, once very normal, Muslim cities such as Beirut, Tehran, Gaza and even Copenhagen which has absorbed a large number of Muslims in recent years… We have not yet woken up. This is a war of ideology and there are some very hateful, violent Muslims who are determined to make the world look and act in accordance with their beliefs.
In the name of Allah.
Another Ferguson State of Emergency Declared – Professional Activists, Anarchists, Back To Agitate….
More Blood on BHO when will it stop?
Killed By Illegal Alien – Santa Maria Police Chief: “There’s A Blood Trail from DC To Bedroom of Marilyn Pharis”…
BHO’s trail of blood is covering the entire country. Sooner or later the citizens will wake us and realize that Trump was right!
Some things are predictable
I hope the last paragraph in the post comes true.
Trump Fires Campaign Adviser, Vows to “stay in” Race, Doubles-Down On Prior Approach, Promises To Destroy DC Machine….
Trump maybe Trump but maybe that’s what we need to take out those like Megan Kelly that make up stuff to make themselves look smart. Being nice is no longer an option in politics the stakes are way to high we are fighting for our country. The Clinton’s and Bush’s and Kelly’s and all the rest need to be stopped for they know not what they do!
Trump is no girly man!
The Tea party was formed in 2009 as a result of the political class; initially mostly Democrats but now the democrats and the establishment Republicans, taking over healthcare after causing the housing bubble that almost brought down the country. The banks were not innocent but the root cause was the federal government and congress.
In 2008 the GOP didn’t run a real candidate if it wasn’t for Sara McCain wouldn’t have won a single state.
In 2010 the tea party gave the Republicans the House
In 2012 the GOP ran an inept campaign and lost the Presidency
In 2014 the tea party gave the Republicans the House and the Senate
By the spring of 2015 it was clear that nothing had changed the GOP was no different than the Democrats
The GOP apparently not understanding the hated in the citizens for what the political class was doing to the country picked Jeb Bush to be the parties next nominee for the Presidency. Unfortunately Jeb is for everything the Tea Party is against; so Trump steps in and shoots straight to the top in the ratings.
The political class can’t understand how this could happen and so Fox and the GOP devise a plan to take out Trump in the first debate. Megan Kelly was picked to the hit person and it was her goal to take out Trump. Trumps responses to her assault on him (they were not legitimate questions) were justified by what she did. Like it or not when you attack someone don’t be surprised when they hit back. Trump is not a girly man like the rest of the castrated GOP, Ted Cruz excluded.
If the GOP doesn’t like us and they drive out Trump and he runs on a third party ticket well we can support him or vote Libertarian. Further If enough of us did that it might be possible to prevent either the R’s and D, from getting enough electoral votes to be declared the winner.
Today a President must win 270 electoral votes, a majority, to become President. If no candidate wins a majority of electoral votes, the 12th Amendment to the Constitution provides for Presidential election by the House of Representatives with each State delegation receiving one vote. Twice in our history, the House of Representatives has chosen the President — Thomas Jefferson’s election in 1801 and John Quincy Adams’ election in 1825.
The tea party caucus in the House would then have the power to pick a president. Maybe this should be our goal.
George Will: “Trump Supporters Need To Come Into The Republican Party On Our Terms, Not Theirs”…
I thought the same thing when I watched FOX this morning. The hell with all the arrogant bastards in Washington. How dare they tell us what to think, they are the ones with theit “games” that have put us in the situation that we are down in. So if they don’t like us we can leave. I’ve already explored the Libertarian Party and if the GOP doesn’t straighten out I see no point to vote R or D there really is no difference.
Centinel2012 