Tag: Veterans

A Hero’s Death …

The once sturdy frame, now withered from age, leaned into the wind and he made his way unsteadily down the quiet street. His ninety-four-year-old knees ached. These same knees had carried him safely across the island of Sicily. And later, they’d carried him ashore with the U.S. 4th Division at Utah Beach. He’d been wounded twice before Herr Hitler was finally defeated; before the evil that was the Third Reich finally ended. They Army had given him a medal, and President Truman had shaken his hand.

But now, without the help of his old wooden cane, his knees would never be able to make it the two blocks to the bus stop. The was proud, and did not ask for, nor would he accept help from anybody. He was a soldier. Pulling the worn out World War II Veterans’s cap down onto his head, he leaned into the wind, and pushed forward.

It was a daily ritual, this journey to the bus stop. His aching knees would painfully announce their displeasure as he slowly climbed those three stairs up into the bus, paid his fare, and found a seat. The bus driver, Joe, always had a pleasant word to say. He knew Joe pretty well. Those worn out knees had been complaining about climbing up into that same bus every day for almost fifteen years now.

It was a twenty-minute ride to the veteran’s hospital where he would spend the day talking to younger veterans less fortunate than himself. At least he had his knees to remind him he was still alive. Too many of these younger men were missing too many limbs. They hadn’t seen these things called improvised explosive devices back in his day. They had land mines though!

Memories of the horrors of war haunted a brain as sharp as when he’d first landed in Sicily. His hands were gnarled. His back stooped. But, those two eyes still burned, clear and bright. Inside, he was still the same proud, honorable, tough patriot he’d always been.

At eighteen, he’d answered his country’s call and unflinchingly did his duty. His young knees had supported him well as he fought for his country, for freedom, and for the man standing beside him in their shared foxhole. He’d walked across Sicily, France, and into Germany.

He survived being shot twice to return home and marry his high school sweetheart, Rose, and put two children through college. A strong back and two still pretty good knees had gotten him through almost thirty years as an iron-worker.

A widower now, his daughter called a few times a month. Judith lived in Florida. He did not know where his son was, but knew from Judith that John had made it pretty big; in real estate she’d said.

The bus slowed to a stop at the bus stop near the veteran’s hospital. With the help of his cane, his knees were forced to unbend and grudgingly supported his weight. He made his way down the aisle to the door of the bus, nodded to Joe, and listened to his knees bitterly complain as he climbed down the three stairs to the sidewalk. Leaning into the wind, he slowly made his way toward the veteran’s hospital.

A crowd dressed in black was gathered. He’d seen them before, protesting something. He did not know what. They always seemed so angry. Now they even wore masks and carried sticks. The old warrior was unafraid. He had nothing they would want. He adjusted his hat and just leaned into the wind. It was not much farther to the veteran’s hospital entrance.

Hate. He could feel it swirl around him. Black clad figures, hoods and masks, carrying clubs. An angry voice screamed obscenities. Was the voice screaming at him? Stopping, he forced his aching knees to turn and confronted a masked face, eyes filled with hatred. The old man looked into those hate-filled eyes and … smiled. He faced worse evil than a kid with a mask and a stick in his life; faced it down and survived.

Aching knees complained bitterly as he took a single step forward. Gnarled hands gripped the cane just a little tighter. His smile never left his face. He heard a single word screamed at him, “Nazi,” as the stick swung hard. What were they teaching kids in school these days, he wondered.

He saw the blow coming. There was nothing he could do … to old, to slow, to proud, his knees ached so. No point even to try. The old man just leaned into the wind once more.

Happy Veterans Day Giveaway: Thank our veterans!

Kindle give away for Serpents Underfoot!

Happy Veterans Day! In honor of Veterans Day, the Kindle version of Serpents Underfoot will be available from Amazon.com for free on Sunday, November 11th and Monday, November 12th. There are no gimmicks or requirements! However, if you were to enjoy the book and want to give me a review on Amazon, I would not strenuously object.
happy veterans

A few Happy Veterans Day quotes:

I’m trying to raise the awareness of the troops that, when they deploy and go to war, it’s not just them at war – it’s also their family. Their family is having to go through all the hardships and the stresses. ~ Chis Kyle
The U.S. Military is us. There is no truer representation of a country than the people that it sends into the field to fight for it. The people who wear our uniform and carry our rifles into combat are our kids, and our job is to support them, because they’re protecting us. ~ Tom Clancy
The valor and courage of our young women and men in the armed services are a shining example to all of the world, and we owe them and their families our deepest respect. ~ Bill Frist

And, a few Happy Veterans Day cartoons!

happy veterans
Gary Varvel, The Indianopolis Star, garyvarvel.com
happy veterans
Dave Granlund, http://www.davegranlund.com
happy veterans
Dave Granlund, davegranlund.com, politicalcartoons.com

On a more personal note:

We all need to give Veterans Day and our veterans the respect they deserve. Members of my family have served this nation going all the way back to the Revolutionary War. Several of my best friends have been Vietnam Vets. This is not unique and I am sure there are many families like mine. People who love this country and are willing to write that blank check to serve and protect it. When you see a veteran … thank him, shake his hand, or even buy his lunch. He has certainly earned it!

Mary Enck: A Review of Serpents Underfoot

Thank you, Mary Enck, for your fantastic review!

Mary Enck is the author of, A King in Time II.

Mary Enck attended UCLA and holds an MFA in Creative Writing. She enjoys reading Fantasy and Science Fiction and has a new love for Mystery/Thrillers. Latest character crush is Jack Reacher. A native of the Colorado Rocky Mountains, and lives in Colorado Springs with her family, a Lab/Dane doggo who says her name is Gillie, and two cats, Lucky and Tuxedo.

Being a long-time fan of the Arthurian legend and having read several versions during my life, I certainly am going to have to read hers as well. In fact, I just started reading it. I am sure there will be a post about A King In Time on here in a little while.

However, the purpose of this post is to thank her for her fantastic and thoughtful review of Serpents Underfoot. Her review left me humbled and speechless.

 

Three Quotes from Mary’s Review of Serpents Underfoot

Author, D. C. Gilbert, takes the reader back to a time that has passed into history. While the era is overshadowed by so much that is happening today, at such a rapid pace, this story reflects how little we have advanced in all this time. We remain in conflict with humans, inflexible in their beliefs.

 

The characters are very strong in their individuality. Again, it is interesting to see the contrasts drawn between the West and influences from another time and another faraway place. I became related to the good guys in this book. I enjoyed their personalities and like them very much.

 

There is a lot of delving into the way of things such as martial arts, Navy Seals and their working dogs, which I especially liked. To me, if there is an animal in a novel significant to the story, it is a relief from the more severe issues that come up.

 

If interested, you can read the complete review here.

 

The novel, Serpents Underfoot, is available in Kindle format for only $3.99.  I hope you will give it a read!

Snooker Lessons, U.S. Navy SEAL Style!

A Lesson In Snooker … SEAL Style!

JD, Jimmy Stiles, and two other new BUD/S graduates caught a cab to a local beer and snooker joint for some well-deserved R&R. After a few beers, the recounting of memorable moments in their training got a little loud. Their boisterous attitude rubbed a few local boys the wrong way. It did not help that the ladies present began showing more interest in the young SEALs than in them.

Wayne Morrison liked starting trouble so he could watch the fights that usually ensued. He reached over and poked Junior Willis in the ribs. “Hey Junior, you going to let those Navy boys steal our women?” he asked. Junior stood about 6′ 7” and weighed about 300 lb. He was usually easy-going, but tonight he’d consumed enough beer to override the good sense he prided himself on having.

“No fucking way,” he replied. Junior paused the snooker he was playing with his friend, Gordy. “Back in a minute, Gordy.” Junior headed toward the table where the group were still laughing and having a good time. Because of his Asian looks and slighter build, Junior homed in on JD.

“Hey, Shithead! What the fuck do you assholes think you’re doing here? You Navy boys piss me … trying to steal our women.”

“Hey man. We’re just having a good time and drinking a few beers. Why don’t you go back to your snooker game.” Jimmy and the other SEALs pushed their chairs back, turning to get a better look. This promised to be interesting.

“Fuck that!” Junior growled. “I’m going to kick your scrawny little chink ass!” JD stood.

“Don’t hurt him, JD” one of the SEALs advised with a grin.

JD moved away from the table, hands open to show he wanted no trouble.

“Listen, dude. My scrawny little chink ass is drinking a few more beers and then it is going back to the base. How about I buy you a beer and we call it even?”

Junior Willis seemed to weigh this idea for a few seconds. His response came in the form of a huge right fist swung at JD’s head. JD slipped the punch. His right foot kicked out, the toe catching Junior midway up his inner right thigh. The kick did not stop there. JD’s heel smashed into the same spot on the other thigh. Junior let out a surprised grunt. He teetered there for a long second, his two legs splayed out at awkward angles, off-balance and unable to move. JD reached up and shoved against Junior’s sternum, setting him back down on the floor.

Junior’s snooker partner had moved closer to get a better view of the fight. Seeing his friend taken down so easily angered him. Gordy yelled as he swung his pool stick down at JD’s head. JD stepped inside the swing. Both hands met the pool stick, trapping Gordy’s hands on the stick in vise-like grips. JD circled the stick around, giving it a sharp powerful twist. Gordy felt his wrists turned back against themselves. Stepping back, JD gave a sharp tug that left him in possession of the pool stick. Reversing the tug, JD gave Gordy a solid poke in the chest. It rocked Gordy back on his heels. JD shifted his grip on the pool stick, presenting it to its former owner.

“Want to try again?” Gordy was thunderstruck.

“Hell no!” came the reply. The bar was silent. JD set the pool stick down and walked over to where Junior was still sitting on the floor. Reaching down, JD held out his hand.

“Buy you a beer now?” JD asked smiling.

Junior Willis looked up at JD in disbelief. Suddenly, he grinned. “Why the fuck not!” He took JD’s offered hand and was helped up off the floor. “That was some pretty slick shit you just pulled.”

JD laughed. “Yep. Pretty slick chink shit.”

“Where did you learn that stuff?” Junior asked.

“My mother taught me!” JD replied slapping Junior on the back as they headed toward the bar.

 

Serpents Underfoot Update Review Snooker
Serpents Underfoot
by DC Gilbert

America: A liberal Skew!

Forward

There is no doubt liberal progressives really do such a fantastic job lying to the American people.

Conservatives need to develop a simple message that enables the “bumper sticker” mentality of the American electorate to realize they are being fed a hearty helping of bullshit. The political, media, and entertainment elite are pulling the wool over the eyes of everyday hard working Americans; and for what purpose? Their own selfish gain and interest.

I know some of you have already figured this out, but for those who haven’t, consider the following statements I saw once posted by Allen West:

The word conundrum is defined as a complex problem that is often puzzling or confusing. Here are six conundrums that exist in our contemporary United States of America.

  • America is capitalist and greedy – yet almost half of the population is subsidized
  • Half of the population is subsidized – yet they think they are victims.
  • They think they are victims – yet their representatives run the government.
  • Their representatives run the government – yet the poor keep getting poorer.
  • The poor keep getting poorer – yet they have things that people in other countries only dream about.
  • They have things that people in other countries only dream about – yet politicians (mostly progressive socialists) claim they want America to become more like those other countries.

And consider these following three observations about the current direction of our federal government and cultural environment:

  • We are advised not to judge ALL Muslims by the actions of a few lunatics, but on the other hand, we are admonished to judge ALL gun owners by the actions of a few lunatics. Funny how that works, as we see the liberal progressives already jumping on the recent tragedy in South Carolina. So what about the increase in stabbing victims, should we ban knives? I heard on the news yesterday that a man tried to poison a coworker by putting weed killer in his water bottle on several occasions.  Do we now also ban weed killer?
  • We constantly hear about how Social Security is running out of money. How come we never hear about welfare or food stamps on the verge of running out of money? Maybe the first group “worked for” their money, but the second didn’t. It is a simple case of printing money for political bribery and extortion.
  • Why are we cutting benefits for our veterans, giving no pay raises for our military and cutting our forces to a level lower than before WWII, but are expanding and increasing the benefits to illegal aliens? It is all about pandering for votes!  Who cares about national security or veterans dying at the hands of their own Veterans Administration?

Before you call me a racist at me and start scrabbling around for another flag to ban, calm down and think about these points for a minute.  To use a cliché that is probably banned by now for being  politically incorrect or even inciting gun violence – they seem to be pretty much “dead on target”