Veterans Day

It is a good thing for us to spend a day thinking about the sacrifices made to make this land free. I think today about my Dad, the guy whose three years in the Navy created my 21. I think about LCDR Pat Dunn, a helluva propulsion engineer, a damn fine friend and a victim of the attack on the Pentagon. I think about the attack on the USS STARK on the day before I was commissioned in the Navy, and the men killed mostly while they slept.

I think about seemingly endless mid-watches in CIC with a truly great Naval Officer and an even better friend--known to many of you as Mudge. I think about the daily, unremitting pressure of working in the rare air of the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, and the constant competence married to intellect and humor that was and is---Sally. I think about the early days on the ship that couldn't shoot straight, and the wonderful twenty-plus year friendship that came from that tour with BigFred.

I think today about what a sublime honor it was to command a destroyer, and how painlessly easy a job it was--not because of any great skill or talent I possessed--but because I had the good fortune of great mentors in life who taught me the value of setting the tone and then getting out of the way. I think today how fortunate I am that a ridiculous number of my "Facebook Friends" are Sailors who served with me in BULKELEY, who take great pride in our ship and who love to tell me about it.

I think about Kegger, Gordo, Butthead, and Vork. I think of Main Pecker, Jim Gannon, and the Ops Officer who got seasick virtually every day.

I think today about families around the country who miss their sons and daughters; some hoping that they'll come home soon and some because they know they never will.

I think today about the Navy SEAL I had a meeting with last week, honorably holding down a Pentagon nut-roll job all the while knowing that he'd rather be out there somewhere in the suck doing things that SEALS do. I am thankful that we have men like him. I could become distraught if I began to think of an America without them.

I think about a Marine Major I know whose safety I pray for more than any other husband of a former girlfriend I have.

I think about the miserable winter of 1777 at Valley Forge when the nation could have been stillborn but a great man kept it all together. I think about the better than half-a-million men killed to deliver on the promise made in 1776 yet delayed four score and seven years.

I think of the Rangers at Pont-du-Hoc; of the Marines at Fallujah, of the Navy at Leyte, of the Air Force over Hanoi. I think of the fights we've been in and the reasons we've been in them. I marvel that there are people in the world ignorant enough to believe that Americans have any real desire to be fighting in their shithole backyards.

But most of all, right about now I'm thinking about the thousands of Americans spread out around the world--Iraq, Afghanistan, the Philippines, Europe, Africa, at sea--allowing us to sleep soundly whilst they stand ready to visit violence upon those who would do us harm (Orwell). I am proud of them, and I am grateful to them.