by Lynn Mandaville
I’m just sitting here, recovering from a brutal drive from Arizona to Alabama for my husband’s biennial Navy reunion.
Today was the day the memo detailing President Donald Trump’s phone call with the new president of Ukraine was made public.
And while I wait for my bad back to cease its muscle spasms and horrid aching, I am dealing with sorting out several trains of thought.
First and foremost, I guess, is processing the impact of what the nation has learned today about the blatant depravity of our president. With his indiscretions on full display, Donald Trump seems not to have even the tiniest inkling of why what he has done is so offensive to an enormous chunk of the population. His batsh*t crazy attorney, Rudy Giuliani, has become the grand confessor of the sins of his client (our president), himself, and, possibly, AG William Barr. Yet, to hear Trump tell it, he is (and they are) simply a great patriot saving his country from the corruption of a former vice president and his son.
Second, I am reveling, once again, being the seagull in the sand of the beaches of Gulf Shores, AL, observing these old salts as they relive their exploits during the years off the coast of Vietnam on board the ammunition ship USS Suribachi and in the ports of call, and as they tell of their lives after the Navy, pursuing their educations, marrying, raising families, and retiring from their various and sundry careers. These men are humble men, who don’t wear their own patriotism on their sleeves, because they lived it at a time when they were reviled for meeting their obligations to our nation.
Finally, I am anxiously looking forward to the drive back home through Austin, TX, where we will visit dear friends of our youth, catching up with their children and grandchildren, and counting and recounting our bounty of blessings throughout our incredibly fortunate lives.
It’s all quite a juxtaposition of life experiences.
It is fair to say that all of these men who served with my husband came from humble roots. They share similar stories of their childhoods from divergent parts of the US, sons of Depression-era parents, sons of men who fought in WWII. They believed in the American dream of the 1950s, that hard work and “obeying the rules” would assure lives better than those of their parents. None became millionaires, but all went on to good careers in their fields and retired comfortably enough that they can afford to travel these great distances to see one another, to reconfirm that their military experiences were worth the sacrifices of time and conscience.
These are men who can look themselves in the mirror every day and know they have lived good lives, never at the expense of others. All of them are retired now; one was a New York city cop, one an IRS agent, one a pastor. A couple ended up working in technology, one as a hospital administrator. Their educations range from the police academy to the completion of several master’s degrees. It is a pleasing patchwork quilt of what we have come to take for granted in this land of plenty.
And while these men, ordinary men, go about the simple pleasures of nostalgia on the beach in Alabama, there are other men (and women) within the bubble of Washington, DC, dealing with the thankless job of cleaning up the messes made by a toddler president. A contemporary of these ex-Navy men, a man who actively sought to avoid serving his country during one of our most divisive political periods, the Vietnam era, Donald Trump and his colorful lawyer, Rudy, are openly confessing to inappropriate, if not illegal, behavior. Neither seems aware of the affront their actions present to Americans like the veterans assembled here for the week, Americans who defended the Constitution that they (Trump and Giuliani) so casually disregard in pursuit of their personal gains.
I’m certain that there are countless other veterans tonight pondering the peculiarities of men’s minds that make their perceptions of right and wrong become so twisted.
It is far too soon to speculate on the outcome of the impeachment proceedings that Congress has undertaken today.
But we can make certain deliberate choices about how we will endure these trying days, weeks, months, and (God forbid) years ahead.
• We can choose to wring our hands and rend our clothes and wail of our fate.
• We can bemoan how little humanity has learned from its past.
• We can waste our time recalling our loss of innocence when another president thought he was above the law and broke our young hearts with his callous disregard for the rule of law.
• We can wallow in the fetid pigsty that has resulted from feeding at the trough of greed and corruption.
• Or we can proceed down the road to a celebration of our youthful selves.
• We can rejoice in the fact that the average, unassuming people in this free land will do more than just survive.
• Through our children and their children, through the valuable, universal lessons we taught them, our country will abide.
• All our most trite, yet accurate, adages will help prop us up.
Truth will set us free. Honesty will continue to be the best policy. Virtue will be its own reward. Cleanliness will remain next to godliness. The Lord will love a cheerful giver. Random acts of kindness will attest to the basic goodness of the common man.
So as I sit here at three o’clock in the morning, far from home, nursing a bad back, the several trains of thought will keep chugging through my mind.
One train seems to be headed off a cliff, but the other two trains are securely on track.
Tonight seems a time to pray that the engineers of the first train are clear of mind, pure of motive, and aware of the people who pay their salaries, so they can deliver their passengers safely to their rightful home within the Constitution of the United States of America.
Peace.
It’s good for men to get together now and then. Women seem good at fostering relationship with each other, but we men often hesitate. I’ve heard tell the benefit of deer camp is far greater that blasting away at little forest creatures; that the time spent in the interaction with other men is is an important aspect of the process.
Basura, I don’t have any experience with men’s gatherings before these reunions. It sure seems to do these guys a great amount of good. After all, those years on an ammunition ship were during their “glory days” of youth. I could watch them all day and all night long, really relating on a deep level. It made them the men they are today.
Read Chris Hedges’ “War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning.” It explains that phenomenon very well.
I had over a dozen friends who served in Vietnam. Never once did they mention the war to me. I was lucky not to have to go, but I would have if called up. I heard them talk to each other but not about the bad things. I understand why they did not mention it to me. I was not there. Be like telling someone about your hole in one while golfing by yourself. I think it is great these guys can get to see each other again if just to see everyone is still doing fine. Hope your back is getting better.