memorial day

This is for the eight soldiers in the 3-61 Cav that lost their lives October 3, 2009. They were on the edge of the empire in small desolate Command Operating Base called Keating on the Afghan-Pakistan border. They along with 37 other US soldiers held off 250 to 300 Taliban in 12 hours of fighting.

Afghanistan in the review mirror

Rihaku was an ancient Chinese poet. I discovered his poems in Ezra Pound's "Translations" 30 years ago. The poems are filled with sharp concrete images, lyrical and haunt me. The following comes from an "Exiles Letter":

"And if you ask how I regret that parting:
It is like the flowers falling at Spring's end
Confused, whirled in a tangle.
What is the use of talking, and there is now end of talking,
There is no end of things in the heart.
I call in the boy,
Have him sit on his kness here
to seal this,
And send it a thousand miles, thinking.

www.lewisandclarkexpeditions.net

Hard winds of May

Today, I am packing for a trip down a river where you are gone for five days and four nights. We will be floating for 60 miles through a remote canyon in Montana. We are taking Disabled Veterans from the Wars. The Wars are Vietnam, Gulf 1 and now 2. The winds are coming from the north an ill sign. You can feel the ice as the wind slice through you.

When I was in Afghanistan, I would dream of being in remote country feeling safe and empowered. This is Montana my country. The country here gives me purpose. Fly fishing allows me grace. This is the place God whispers to me. Our hope is for the soldiers to get the same feeling. There is a time for war but there is also a time for healing.

www.lewisclarkexpeditions.net

he ain't heavy he is my brother

He was wired tight and edgy. He was in his early 30’s and if he could sleep he would look like he was in his 20’s again. He was looking for DVD’s in the Red Cross office until he redeployed. He was a large muscular man with eyes that kept darting around. He was Special Forces finishing up his fourth deployment: two in Iraq and two in Afghanistan. Special Forces and four deployments carried weight. There was an exceptional look of both kindness and sorrow in his face. Perhaps he bore the weight of knowledge.

The television was on and the talking heads were talking about the surge. They were all experts: committed, passionate and polished. The week before they were all experts on health care and next week they would be experts on oil spills. But today it was the surge of troops in Afghanistan.

“It is hopeless,” he said. “I’ve done four deployments working in the villages and it can’t be done. The problem here are the tribes. They were here before we came and they will be here after we leave. We do something and it gets undone a week after we leave. I can’t see it anymore.”

“Are you coming back,” I asked.

“I’ll be back in six months,” he said.

“Why ?” I asked.

“It is what I do.”

www.lewisandclarkexpeditions.net

need a little help from my friends

He walked into the Red Cross office with a smile and why not. He was tall good looking, athletic and right out of West Point. He was a Captain with a terrific looking wife at his side. She was tall tanned with dark hair and dark eyes that were alert. She was also a Captain and out of West Point. The gene pool was going to get improved down the road. They were getting ready to go on leave and were looking through the DVD’s that we lend out at the Red Cross in Bagram. They like everyone else on base were killing time by watching movies.

“Where are your from ?” I asked.

“We are from Ft. Carson, Colorado.” he said.

“Do you fly fish?” I asked. I can’t help myself as a guide and outfitter I am always selling trips. If I meet St. Peter at the Pearly Gates I will be asking him in five minutes if he fishes.

“Yes, we do.” He said. He smiled easily with confidence.

“ I live in Montana and take people fishing.” I said. I smiled easily but with less confidence. I wear the smile of an idiot savant.

He warmed to the idea of fishing. “We both fish but haven’t had a chance in the last couple of years.”

“We are on way to the Bahamas.” She said and smiled.

The television was in the background. It was on 24/7 operating like a collective conscious. They were talking about the surge.

“What you think about the surge?” I asked.

His wife pointed to her husband. “He is in doing missions in the middle of nowhere that are designed for 16 soldiers.” She said.

“We are doing them with 10 or 12 soldiers.” He said.

“ The Mission suffers. They require more soldiers if we don’t have the soldiers the others have to pick up the slack. More stress for the soldiers.” She said.

“I could use some more soldiers.” He said.

www.lewisandclarkexpeditions.net

from "Winner Take Nothing" by Hemingway

"Unlike all other forms of lutte or
combat the conditions are that the
winner shall take nothing; neither
his ease, nor his pleasure, nor any
notions of glory; nor, if he win far
enough, shall there be any reward within
himself."

LAMENT OF THE FRONTIER GUARD

By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand,
Lonely from the beginning of time until now!
Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn.
I climb the towers and towers
to watch out the barbarous land:
Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert.
There is no wall left to this village.
Bones white with thousand frosts,
High heaps, covered with trees and grass;
Who brought the flaming imperial anger?
Who has brought the army with drums and with kettle-drums?
Barbarous kings.
A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn,
A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle kingdom,
Three hundred and sixty thousand,
And sorrow, sorrow like rain.
Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning.
Desolate, desolate fields,
And no children of warfare upon them,
No longer the men for offence and defence.
Ah, how shall you know the dreary sorrow at the North Gate,
With Rihaku's name forgotten,
And we guardsmen to fed to the tigers.

By Rihaky 730 AC ?