The Spirit of Christmas

The Spirit of Christmas

This was a terrific Christmas. I was surrounded by my family and friends. Made out well in the gift department. Drank some wine, a little bourbon. I made a big fuss as I always do trying to achieve perfection for my family. That's the way I remembered Christmas growing up. Mom and Dad always made a fuss. Spent more than they could afford for their three boys. 

But every time the gifts were opened and the excitement had settled, my dad would invariably get maudlin. I never understood why. Then one Christmas, when he figured I was old enough to understand he tell me his Christmas story. It was the winter of 1944-45. They would later refer to it as the Battle of the Bulge. He was an infantryman in the 26th Infantry.  It was a desperate battle to relieve Bastogne.

He and two other fellows were placed in a pillbox on a snow-covered hill. Their sergeant told them to hold this position at all costs. Don't let anybody get past here. Cold and scared, it wasn't long before three Germans, cloaked in snow-capes, appeared out of the fog and ran up the hill. The three Americans opened up and quickly killed the enemy soldiers.  The three infantryman ran down the hill and rifled through the bodies looking for personal items as souvenirs. They took wallets, identity tags, Lugers. They were young kids. They returned to their pillbox. 

Dad looked at me, tears in his eyes and said, "And some German mother never knew what happened to her son." He never had a happy Christmas. I never spend a Christmas without thinking of that mother.

Book? What book?

The Weak and The Strong

I have completed a new book, The Weak and the Strong. It is part of my "Bombing" series. It follows the life of Nathan Bedford Forrest Sullivan, 'Sully', as he grows up in Virginia and goes to war. He goes from bombardier to French Resistance operative, saboteur and finally assassin. It is a bit long but fast-paced.  Extremely well-researched. My previous books, Bombing and The Business of Killing, have been independently published on Amazon Kindle and have been very well received.  I have been researching agents and publishing houses. This is a daunting task.  If anybody would like to be a beta reader, let me know. I will email it to you. 

The Pain of Marriage

This past weekend, 7-9-11 to be exact, my daughter, Lindsey Regh Harden joined in matrimony Robert Fabel. It is cliched to say you are not losing a daughter but gaining a son. While this may be true the experience can still be rough on a father. The wedding itself was perfect and my daughter was stunning, only out done by her mother, but deep down inside I feel a loss. My children are drifting further and further from us. This, ulitmately, is good for the species, gene pools grow deeped and more diverse as new combinations are born. Even so, there is still a part of it that hurts. But it is a good kind of pain.

Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry

OK, let's move on, folks. Chris, it was a poor judgement in the use of your words. Making such a gaffe doesn't mean you have to apologize. What has it come to? Say something insulting then make it all better by apologizing sincerely? Michelle shows her cahones by not making it all better by saying all is forgiven. I would have liked her even better if she had smiled and said, "Consider the source."

A Memory of My Dad

My favorite war story was one my dad told me. He was with the 26th Infantry Division in Patton's Third Army. My dad's best friend was John Benson who went into the army serving in the Combat Engineers with the First Army. (He claims to have been at the wheel of the first 2 1/2 ton truck onto Omaha Beach but who knows?) They were very close growing up and, living next to each other, were inseperable. They were both a trial and a joy for my dad's mom. She worried terribly about how Benny was making out in the war. To keep her from worrying, my dad told her in every letter he wrote home that he had seen Benny and he was doing fine. He allayed her fears and they both survived the war. In truth, they ran into each other only once, for a few moments in a blown out building near Metz. Their meeting was purely by chance. They did not see each other for the duration. My dad's mom went to her grave never knowing the truth.

I honestly think that my grandmother thought they were in Europe on a camping trip. She died before I got to know her but they told me she was one of the sweetest persons who ever lived. As he recalled the incident, dad said he was told there was a combat engineer unit nearby and started looking around. He found Benny sitting on the second floor staring across the room at a GI eating limberger cheese. They both talked about the smell of that cheese until the day they died.

One of the most hallowed places you could ever visit is the Colleville US Cemetary on the bluff above Omaha Beach. Unknown soldier. How can we ever thank them? It goes to show you what one group of people is willing to do for another. God Bless and keep them in His heart. On this Day of Dayskeep them in your hearts too.

Rough Men

We sleep soundly in our beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on our behalf. Churchill