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Rambling Anecdotes
- Thread starter 4V50 Gary
- Start date
Another Lincoln line
I've been reading Dr. John Sotos' book, The Physical Lincoln. Sotos' is a cardiologist trained at John Hopkins. His book raises the issue that Lincoln's misshapen body was not attributable to Marfan but to a rare form of cancer, MEN2B. The first chapters discusses the case for Marfan and why Lincoln didn't have Marfan. Other chapters examines each of Lincoln's physical attributes through eyewitness accounts, photographs, casts of Lincoln's hands, several life masks and his death mask.
Let's not get into a discussion whether Lincoln was the debbil incarnate or a sainted martyr. He's the dude on the penny and the five dollar bill. Good enough?
Well, here's something Lincoln said that Dr. Sotos quoted (on page 263):
Many states at the time had laws against miscegenation (mixed race marriages). These have long since been swept from our (law) books and into history's overflowing files of forgotten and unjust laws.
I've been reading Dr. John Sotos' book, The Physical Lincoln. Sotos' is a cardiologist trained at John Hopkins. His book raises the issue that Lincoln's misshapen body was not attributable to Marfan but to a rare form of cancer, MEN2B. The first chapters discusses the case for Marfan and why Lincoln didn't have Marfan. Other chapters examines each of Lincoln's physical attributes through eyewitness accounts, photographs, casts of Lincoln's hands, several life masks and his death mask.
Let's not get into a discussion whether Lincoln was the debbil incarnate or a sainted martyr. He's the dude on the penny and the five dollar bill. Good enough?
Well, here's something Lincoln said that Dr. Sotos quoted (on page 263):
"If a white man wants to marry a negro woman, let him do it - if the negro woman can stand it."
Many states at the time had laws against miscegenation (mixed race marriages). These have long since been swept from our (law) books and into history's overflowing files of forgotten and unjust laws.
Not a blackpowder tale
So, when I was in the Old Dominion State attending The Company of Military Historians Conference in April, we visited the Smithsonian Aviation Museum near Dulles Airport. They had Enola Gay, the B-29 that help light up Hiroshima displayed there. There were numerous WW II fighter aircraft including a Focke Wolfe 190 fighter. Anyhow, they also had a book signing event. The book was, "Hell Hawks! The Untold Story of the American Fliers Who Savaged Hitler's Wehrmacht" by Robert F. Door and Thomas D. Jones. It's about the three squadrons of the 365th Fighter Group of the Ninth Air Force. Unlike the Eighth, which was a strategic air force, the Ninth was a tactical air force that supported the ground operations. At Normandy, the plastered the German convoys rushing to reinforce Rommel. During Operation Cobra, the blasted a way for Patton's army to break out and encircle the Germans. They bombed and strafed the retreating columns as they sought to escape the Falaise Gap and provided support when the Allies chased the Wehrmacht out of France. I bought a copy and started reading it recently.
If you remember Operation Bodenplatte, that was the German Luftwaffe's early morning strike in Dec. 1944 to destroy the AAF on the ground. About 850 fighters took off near dawn and streaked westward with orders to strafe the American fighters before they could even warm up their engines. An airforce was destroyed, but it wasn't the AAF. The Luftwaffe suffered 40% loss in aircraft. Worse, 234 irreplaceable fighter pilots had been killed, wounded or captured. General der Jagdfleiger Adolph Galland lamented that it was the death of the German fighter arm.
One German fighter pilot who didn't return was Oberfeldwebel (Master Sergeant) Stefan Kohl. When captured, Kohl believed that they had struck a devastating blow against the Americans. His belief was not without basis as the airfield was littered with burning P-47s. Cocky and self-assured, he jerked his thumb towards the wreckage and asked his American captors of the 386 Squadron that he just struck, "What do you think of that?" Unable to deny the destruction, Maj. Bob Brooking stomped out angrily without saying a word.
What Kohl didn't know was at that time of the war, American factories were producing more planes than we had pilots for. From the depots around Paris, fresh Thunderbolts were rushed to the front to replace all the destroyed or damaged planes. A few days later, the 386 was operational again. Brookings then fetched Kohl from his jail cell and pointing to the airfield asked Kohl, "What do you think of that?"
Kohl was stunned with what he saw. Rows of shiny, brand new Thunderbolts lined the field. Energetic crews were working on them and preparing them for their mission. Realizing that industrial capacity of America could not be matched by Germany, a humbled Kohl replied, "That is what is beating us."
The book is a good read. Check it out.
So, when I was in the Old Dominion State attending The Company of Military Historians Conference in April, we visited the Smithsonian Aviation Museum near Dulles Airport. They had Enola Gay, the B-29 that help light up Hiroshima displayed there. There were numerous WW II fighter aircraft including a Focke Wolfe 190 fighter. Anyhow, they also had a book signing event. The book was, "Hell Hawks! The Untold Story of the American Fliers Who Savaged Hitler's Wehrmacht" by Robert F. Door and Thomas D. Jones. It's about the three squadrons of the 365th Fighter Group of the Ninth Air Force. Unlike the Eighth, which was a strategic air force, the Ninth was a tactical air force that supported the ground operations. At Normandy, the plastered the German convoys rushing to reinforce Rommel. During Operation Cobra, the blasted a way for Patton's army to break out and encircle the Germans. They bombed and strafed the retreating columns as they sought to escape the Falaise Gap and provided support when the Allies chased the Wehrmacht out of France. I bought a copy and started reading it recently.
If you remember Operation Bodenplatte, that was the German Luftwaffe's early morning strike in Dec. 1944 to destroy the AAF on the ground. About 850 fighters took off near dawn and streaked westward with orders to strafe the American fighters before they could even warm up their engines. An airforce was destroyed, but it wasn't the AAF. The Luftwaffe suffered 40% loss in aircraft. Worse, 234 irreplaceable fighter pilots had been killed, wounded or captured. General der Jagdfleiger Adolph Galland lamented that it was the death of the German fighter arm.
One German fighter pilot who didn't return was Oberfeldwebel (Master Sergeant) Stefan Kohl. When captured, Kohl believed that they had struck a devastating blow against the Americans. His belief was not without basis as the airfield was littered with burning P-47s. Cocky and self-assured, he jerked his thumb towards the wreckage and asked his American captors of the 386 Squadron that he just struck, "What do you think of that?" Unable to deny the destruction, Maj. Bob Brooking stomped out angrily without saying a word.
What Kohl didn't know was at that time of the war, American factories were producing more planes than we had pilots for. From the depots around Paris, fresh Thunderbolts were rushed to the front to replace all the destroyed or damaged planes. A few days later, the 386 was operational again. Brookings then fetched Kohl from his jail cell and pointing to the airfield asked Kohl, "What do you think of that?"
Kohl was stunned with what he saw. Rows of shiny, brand new Thunderbolts lined the field. Energetic crews were working on them and preparing them for their mission. Realizing that industrial capacity of America could not be matched by Germany, a humbled Kohl replied, "That is what is beating us."
The book is a good read. Check it out.
From Hell Hawks, page 186
Here's a funny little incident that followed the Luftwaffe's raid on the 386th Squadron's airfield.
Here's a funny little incident that followed the Luftwaffe's raid on the 386th Squadron's airfield.
After the wounded were taken care of, Mac McWhorter watched Doc Smead vigorously digging a foxhole. Eventually Smead was down seven or eight feet, dirt still flying from his shovel. Coleonel Stecker noticed his work, and leaning over the hole yelled: "Doc, if you go down another foot I'm going to put you down as AWOL!"
Not a funny story
But something useful when you're in the field and you've got a partridge or quail to cook.
This was copied from H. Jung's book, But Not for the Fuehrer, pages 250-251. It is an account of a German soldier who, as an engineer, was assigned to the Seventh Panzer Division in Russia. It was Rommel's old unit that helped him earn fame in France. The author states that he also used this technique to cook chicken or pork that way.
BTW, I'm told that the mountain folk of West Virginia cook chicken this way too.
But something useful when you're in the field and you've got a partridge or quail to cook.
A little while later I got another partridge and was wondering what to do with it when I encountered a Russian woman who had a few birds of her own to prepare. The Russian women would snare the partridges. She told me to watch her and she would show me exactly what to do, and how to cook it as well.
I asked her if she wanted me to clean and pluck the bird while she prepared other things, and to my delight, she said no. Instead, she produced a small knife and quickly had the entrails out of my bird and hers too. She also cut the heads and feet off. Everything else, feathers and all, were still there and she started to mix some dirt and water to make mud. The birds were wrapped in this mud,, completely covered so the partridges looked like simple balls of mud. then the mud balls, each containing a partridge, were thrown into the fire that was burning outside her house. At that point she told me to go away for awhile and to come back in an hour or forty-five minutes.
My thoughts at this time were not exactly pleasant. I didn't like the idea of cooking birds which were still feathered. The thought of that mud was not the most pleasant either because dirt must be associated with dirty. This was not the meal I looked upon with the inviting senses I generall had, hungry or otherwise.
When I returned, the Russian woman said the birds should be ready, I was right on time. the balls of mud looked even worse than when I left. They looked like they were all burned, hard dry balls of charred earth. The woman used a stick and rolled them out of the fire, wearing a big smile all the time.
I wonder if I was being tricked. Russians were quite capable of doing dirty tricks. I would not have been too surprised to find out that this woman had destroyed her own partridges just to prevent me from enjoying my own. But those thought were wrong, she was teaching me a great thing.
She let the balls of mud cool for just a few moments and then she gave each mud ball a whack, just hitting it with her hand. That cracked the mud. Then she peeled the dried mud away and all the feathers and skin went with it. The only thing that was left was all that beautiful meat. She lifted the cook partridge out of the mud preparation and handed it to me.
By that time I knew she wouldn't try to poison me or play any dirty tricks so I tore a piece of meat from the bird and ate it. That was the very best fowl I ever ate, far better than chicken. It was so good! To say the least, I enjoyed that partridge far more than I expected to.
This was copied from H. Jung's book, But Not for the Fuehrer, pages 250-251. It is an account of a German soldier who, as an engineer, was assigned to the Seventh Panzer Division in Russia. It was Rommel's old unit that helped him earn fame in France. The author states that he also used this technique to cook chicken or pork that way.
BTW, I'm told that the mountain folk of West Virginia cook chicken this way too.
From Mark Twain's 1869 travel book (so there's no copyright protection on it now), The Innocents Abroad. Twain caught a steamship to Europe with intent of visiting Egypt. He stops in Paris where he sees the emperor, Napoleon III, the nephew of the great conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte.
(taken from pages 119-120).
I guess he was the original Abdul the Butcher. Anyway, Twain earlier stopped in Tangier.
Thank you MalH for recommending this book. I got it out of the library and carried it with me to Egypt.
Presently there was a sound of distant music; in another minute a pillar of dust came moving slowly toward us; a moment more, and then, with colors flying and a grand crash of military music, a gallant array of cavalrymen emerged from the dust and came down a street on a gentle trot. After them came a long line of artillery; then ore cavalry, in splendid uniforms; and then their Imperial Majesties, Napoleon III. and Abdul Aziz. The vast concourse of the people swung their hats and shouted-the windows and housetops in the wide vicinity burst into a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and the wavers of the same mingled their cheers with those of the masses below. It was a stirring spectacle.
But the two central figures that claimed all my attention. Was ever such a contrast set up before a multitude then? Napoleon, in military uniform - a long-bodied, short-legged man, fiercely mustached, old, wrinkled, with eyes half closed, and such a deep, crafty, scheming expression about them! Napoleon, bowing ever so gently to the loud plaudits, and watching everything and everybody with his cat-eyes from under his depressed hat brim, as if to discover any sign that those cheers were not heartfelt and cordial.
Abdul Aziz, absolute lord of the Ottoman Empire, - clad in dark green European clothes, almost without ornament or insignia of rank; a red Turkish fez on his head - a short, stout, dark man, black-bearded, black-eyed, stupid, unprepossessing-a man whose whole appearance somehow suggested that if he had only a cleaver in his hand and a white apron on, one would not be at all surprised to hear him say: "A mutton roast to-day, or will you have a nice porterhouse steak?"
(taken from pages 119-120).
I guess he was the original Abdul the Butcher. Anyway, Twain earlier stopped in Tangier.
Taken from page 73-74.Murder is punished with death. A short time ago three murderers were taken beyond the city wall and shot. Moorish guns are not good, and neither are Moorish marksmen. In this instance, they set up the poor criminals at long range, like so many targets, and practised on them-kept them hopping about and dodging bullets for half an hour before they managed to drive the center.
Thank you MalH for recommending this book. I got it out of the library and carried it with me to Egypt.
Mark Twain sees an enchanting girl at the opera
The other book I carried on my recent trip was Twain's, A Tramp Abroad (c 1898). Tramp in those days meant to hike as in the Civil War song, Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! The boys are marching... Anyway, Twain decided to go to Germany to study art and he attends the Opera. This excerpt is from page 49:
Mark Twain was certainly an accomplished writer.
The other book I carried on my recent trip was Twain's, A Tramp Abroad (c 1898). Tramp in those days meant to hike as in the Civil War song, Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! The boys are marching... Anyway, Twain decided to go to Germany to study art and he attends the Opera. This excerpt is from page 49:
A gentle, old-maidish person and a sweet young girl of seventeen sat right in front of us that night at the Mannheim opera. These people talked between the acts, and I understood them, though I understood nothing that was uttered on the distant stage. At first they were guarded in their talks, but after they heard my agent and me conversing in English they dropped their reserve, and I picked up many of their little confidences; no, I mean many of her little confidences-meaning the elder party-for the young girl only listened, and gave assenting nods, but never said a word. How pretty she was, and how sweet she was! I wished she would speak. But evidently she was absorbed in her own thoughts, her own young girl dreams, and found a dearer pleasure in silence. But she was not dreaming sleepy dreams-no, she was wide awake, alive, alert; and she could not sit still for a moment. She was an enchanting study. Her gown was of a soft white silky stuff that clung to her round young figure like a fish's skin, and it was rippled over with the gracefullest little fringy films of lace; she had deep, tender eyes, with long, curved lashes; and she had peachy cheeks, and a dimpled chin, and such a dear little dewy rosebud of a mouth; and she was so dove-like, so pure, and so gracious, so sweet and bewitching. For long hours I did mightily wish she would speak. And at last she did; the red lips parted, and out leaped her thought, and with such a guileless and pretty enthusiasm too: 'Auntie, I just know I've got five hundred fleas on me!'
Mark Twain was certainly an accomplished writer.
Mark Twain visits Pompeii and sees a Roman soldier
The fellow has been dead for several centuries of course. From page 41 of Vol. II, The Innocents Abroad, we have:
The fellow has been dead for several centuries of course. From page 41 of Vol. II, The Innocents Abroad, we have:
But perhaps the most poetical thing Pompeii has yielded to modern research, was that grand figure of a Roman soldier, clad in complete armor; who, true to his duty, true to his proud name of a soldier of Rome, and full of the stern courage which had given to that name its glory, stood to his post by the city gates, erect and unflinching, till the hell that raged around him burned out the dauntless spirit it could not conquer.
We never read of Pompeii but we think of that soldier; we cannot write of Pompeii without the natural impulse to grant to him the mention he so well deserves. Let us remember that he was a soldier - not a policeman - and so, praise him. Being a soldier, he stayed - because the warrior instinct forbade him to fly. Had he been a policeman he would have stayed, also - because he would have been asleep.
Curing night blindness
I'm currently reading Panzer Destroyer: Memoirs of a Red Army Tank Commander by Vasiliy Krysov. It is published by Pen & Sword (UK). We are fortunate that more Russian memoirs are appearing in the bookstores. Until recently, almost everything we got was from the German perspective. Panzer Destroyer is the memoir of a Red Army Officer who commanded a KV-1, then a SU-122 howitzer armed assault gun, a SU-85 (the anti-tank equivalent of the SU-122) and finally at T-34/85. He fought at Stalingrad before being transferred to fight at Kursk. I'm only 1/3 the way through, but it's an exciting read as he gives graphic accounts of his battle against German tanks, anti-tank and infantry. His assessment of various pieces of armor of both sides gives a fresh perspective to ponder. It's well worth reading and you can either buy it or see if your local library has a copy.
Here's an excerpt:
The author liked the SU-85 better than the SU-122. The higher velocity gun of the SU-85 gave him a better edge against German armor. He also like the SU-85 better than the T-34/85. The latter was taller and one ton heavier (so it was slower). To fight a Tiger, he either disabled (shoot the tracks) or shot between the mantlet and the turret, and finally, tried to get a flank shot. His battery once fired a four gun salvo at a single Panther at 800 meters. The crew bailed out, holding their ears (must have sounded like Quasi-modo in that Panther) and some men recovered the Panther and drove it back to the Russian side. They were disappointed to learn that despite four hits from their 85mm guns, all of them failed to penetrate the Panther's front glacis plate.
I'm currently reading Panzer Destroyer: Memoirs of a Red Army Tank Commander by Vasiliy Krysov. It is published by Pen & Sword (UK). We are fortunate that more Russian memoirs are appearing in the bookstores. Until recently, almost everything we got was from the German perspective. Panzer Destroyer is the memoir of a Red Army Officer who commanded a KV-1, then a SU-122 howitzer armed assault gun, a SU-85 (the anti-tank equivalent of the SU-122) and finally at T-34/85. He fought at Stalingrad before being transferred to fight at Kursk. I'm only 1/3 the way through, but it's an exciting read as he gives graphic accounts of his battle against German tanks, anti-tank and infantry. His assessment of various pieces of armor of both sides gives a fresh perspective to ponder. It's well worth reading and you can either buy it or see if your local library has a copy.
Here's an excerpt:
Already at daybreak, walking past Levanov's machine, I saw that for some reason the commander himself was on watch. I decided not to saying anything. Then around noon the officers were summoned to headquarters for a meeting in regard to combat preparations. As I was on my way to the meeting, I watched as Levanov stumbled on the level ground and almost fell over - the commander was practically sleep walking.
'Ivan Petrovich, didn't you get any sleep last night?' I asked.
'No, I didn't.'
'Why not?'
'I was guarding the self-propelled gun.'
'Why? You have four men in your crew, why were you on duty?'
'They all say they have night-blindness.'
'Have they been to the medical unit?'
'They have, but there's nothing to treat it, not even brewer's yeast.'
'I'll cure them today! - and with that, I ended the conversation.
We went to the headquarters and attended the meeting. Once it became completely dark, I woke up Plaksin: 'Vasya, go and see Levanov's guys, tell the men quietly that they've delivered some seized German honey to our machine, so let them come around with mess tins.'
Plaskin left, and I took a glance at the luminous face of my watch - its hands were indicating that it was just after midnight. A warm drizzle was falling, the sky was heavily overcast, and it was so dark that it seemed that I'd been left alone in the whole world. A wave of grief for my fallen comrades came over me.
The rapidly approaching sound of cracking twigs and rattling mess tins snapped me out of my distressing thoughts - aha, they were coming at a run! In the inky darkness of the night, you couldn't see your fingers in front of your face, much less the tangled deadfalls lying in their path, but they were rushing head over heels, nimbly leaping over fallen trunks and snags in the path. They ran up to the assault gun and suddenly caught sight of me! They were taken aback and stopped in their tracks, disheartened.
'This is what you're going to get, instead of honey! I growled as I shook my fist at them. 'I'll show you honey and night-blindness. You'll be telling your grandchildren, so they'll never have it!'
They hung their heads. I added harshly: 'Get out of here and go do your duty.'
That's how I cured them of their night-blindness! With that, the incident was over. Later I spoke to Levanov privately about the extra ration of honey and he began to share it with his crew.
The author liked the SU-85 better than the SU-122. The higher velocity gun of the SU-85 gave him a better edge against German armor. He also like the SU-85 better than the T-34/85. The latter was taller and one ton heavier (so it was slower). To fight a Tiger, he either disabled (shoot the tracks) or shot between the mantlet and the turret, and finally, tried to get a flank shot. His battery once fired a four gun salvo at a single Panther at 800 meters. The crew bailed out, holding their ears (must have sounded like Quasi-modo in that Panther) and some men recovered the Panther and drove it back to the Russian side. They were disappointed to learn that despite four hits from their 85mm guns, all of them failed to penetrate the Panther's front glacis plate.
Back on Civil War track
Recently an older Civil War buff passed away and I went to his son's home to pick up five boxes of his books. Most I'll share with members of the Civil War round tables that I belong too. One caught my attention though. It is Glenn W. Sunderland's Five Days to Glory. Based on the letters of 59th Illinois Pvt. Tighlman Jones, he joined at age 15 and fought at Pea Ridge, the Siege of Cornith, Perryville, Stone River (Murfreeboro), Knoxville, Atlanta and five days before his discharge, at Nashville where Hood's Army of Tennessee was crushed by Thomas. Jones unfortunately was wounded and did not survive his wound. A company commander in regiment recounts a tale of soldierly looting and avoidance of detection.
Recently an older Civil War buff passed away and I went to his son's home to pick up five boxes of his books. Most I'll share with members of the Civil War round tables that I belong too. One caught my attention though. It is Glenn W. Sunderland's Five Days to Glory. Based on the letters of 59th Illinois Pvt. Tighlman Jones, he joined at age 15 and fought at Pea Ridge, the Siege of Cornith, Perryville, Stone River (Murfreeboro), Knoxville, Atlanta and five days before his discharge, at Nashville where Hood's Army of Tennessee was crushed by Thomas. Jones unfortunately was wounded and did not survive his wound. A company commander in regiment recounts a tale of soldierly looting and avoidance of detection.
We encamped on a large creek bottom and there was a good many Missouri possums (as the boys call the hogs here) running through the timber and some of the boys were rather hungry. They came to me and asked me for my pistol to go and kill some possums. I gave it to them making them promise to not let the Colonel or any one know that I knew that they were killing possum, so presently in they came with some fine skinned hams and ribs. But the General had heard the firing of the pistols as my company was not the only one engaged in the sport and they made rather much noise. He sent the Colonel to see what was up so the Colonel came along one of my company's fires and saw one of the boys picking a bone before the boy saw him, so the Colonel asked him what he was eating. He said hog. Then the Colonel inquired where he got it. He said he bought it from another soldier in another regiment. Then the Colonel went into a tent where they had a ham but the boys saw him coming and shoved the ham out under the tent so the Colonel saw nothing and he started around the tent and the boys saw him again and shoved it through into the tent again, so the Colonel had to go without making any discovery.
He's no soldier
We all know of Boxer's call me senator. Here's a spoof at this Link.
There is an Abe Lincoln precedent (not president). Lincoln the attorney was representing an army officer who was accused of assaulting an old man. Lincoln was giving his opening statement when he was interrupted by his client.
Lincoln: "There is an indictment against a soldier for assaulting an old man."
Client: "I am no soldier. I am an officer."
Lincoln, unfazed, corrected himself. "I beg your pardon. Gentlemen of the jury, there is an indictment against an officer, who is no soldier, for assaulting an old man."
We all know of Boxer's call me senator. Here's a spoof at this Link.
There is an Abe Lincoln precedent (not president). Lincoln the attorney was representing an army officer who was accused of assaulting an old man. Lincoln was giving his opening statement when he was interrupted by his client.
Lincoln: "There is an indictment against a soldier for assaulting an old man."
Client: "I am no soldier. I am an officer."
Lincoln, unfazed, corrected himself. "I beg your pardon. Gentlemen of the jury, there is an indictment against an officer, who is no soldier, for assaulting an old man."
Jacob the Goose
Noted Canadian military historian Rene Chartrand had his submission on Jacob the Goose published in The Fall 2010 issue of The Company of Military Historians. Page 231 has the story of Jacob the Goose. I'll summarize it here.
During the Canadian Rebellion (1837-38), the 2nd Coldstream Guards was sent to Quebec where it became part of the city's garrison. Sentries were posted around the city and Guardsman and ex-farmboy John Kemp stood his post on what would otherwise seem a typical boring day. As he paced, he noticed a fine white goose wandering about his post. Pacing back and forth as sentries do, Kemp kept an eye on the goose when he spied that a large, brown fox had stalked up close to the unwary goose. Kemp could not shoot (the fox, not the goose) as it would sound the alarm. Suddenly the goose noticed the fox and making panicked sounds, flapped its wings. It fled between Kemp's boots with the fox in hot pursuit. A quick thrust of Kemp's bayonet put an end to the fox. With that, the goose bonded with the guardsmen and always accompanied them on post. They, in turn, named it Jacob.
One day Kemp was on sentry duty again walking his post. Two knife armed would be assassins were sneaking on Kemp. Jacob spotted them when they rushed towards Kemp. Flapping his wings and squawking out an alarm, Jacob counter charged. Kemp spun on his heels, saw the assassins, raised his muskets and fired. His fellow sentries responded to his assistance and the assassins fled. Jacob was heralded as a hero by the regiment and the officers had a golden collar fitted around his neck. When the guards returned to London in 1842, Jacob accompanied them. He became a favorite of children and was said to be approached (not poached) even by the Duke of Wellington.
For anyone who is a member of The Company, my article on Pemberton's Sharpshooters begins on page 223.
Noted Canadian military historian Rene Chartrand had his submission on Jacob the Goose published in The Fall 2010 issue of The Company of Military Historians. Page 231 has the story of Jacob the Goose. I'll summarize it here.
During the Canadian Rebellion (1837-38), the 2nd Coldstream Guards was sent to Quebec where it became part of the city's garrison. Sentries were posted around the city and Guardsman and ex-farmboy John Kemp stood his post on what would otherwise seem a typical boring day. As he paced, he noticed a fine white goose wandering about his post. Pacing back and forth as sentries do, Kemp kept an eye on the goose when he spied that a large, brown fox had stalked up close to the unwary goose. Kemp could not shoot (the fox, not the goose) as it would sound the alarm. Suddenly the goose noticed the fox and making panicked sounds, flapped its wings. It fled between Kemp's boots with the fox in hot pursuit. A quick thrust of Kemp's bayonet put an end to the fox. With that, the goose bonded with the guardsmen and always accompanied them on post. They, in turn, named it Jacob.
One day Kemp was on sentry duty again walking his post. Two knife armed would be assassins were sneaking on Kemp. Jacob spotted them when they rushed towards Kemp. Flapping his wings and squawking out an alarm, Jacob counter charged. Kemp spun on his heels, saw the assassins, raised his muskets and fired. His fellow sentries responded to his assistance and the assassins fled. Jacob was heralded as a hero by the regiment and the officers had a golden collar fitted around his neck. When the guards returned to London in 1842, Jacob accompanied them. He became a favorite of children and was said to be approached (not poached) even by the Duke of Wellington.
For anyone who is a member of The Company, my article on Pemberton's Sharpshooters begins on page 223.
Correspondence between Lincoln and Secretary of War Stanton
Can you imagine that happening today?
Dear Stanton: Appoint this man chaplain in the army. A. Lincoln.
Dear Mr. Lincoln: He is not a preacher. E. M. Stanton.
Dear Mr. Stanton: He is now. A. Lincoln.
Dear Mr. Lincoln: But there is no vacancy. E. M. Stanton.
Dear. Mr. Stanton: Appoint him Chaplain-at-large. A. Lincoln.
Dear. Mr. Lincoln: There is no warrant for that. E. M. Stanton.
Dear Stanton: Appoint him anyway. A. Lincoln.
Dear Mr. Lincoln: I will not. E. M. Stanton.
Can you imagine that happening today?
So I've been reading Jennison's The Humorous Lincoln
Final Lincoln story.
General McClellan grew tired of Lincoln's intermeddling. Lincoln was growing wearing of McClellan's inactivity and was urging McClellan onward to attack the Confederates. To mock the president, McClellan sent trivia.
Lincoln, being witty, responded:
Final Lincoln story.
General McClellan grew tired of Lincoln's intermeddling. Lincoln was growing wearing of McClellan's inactivity and was urging McClellan onward to attack the Confederates. To mock the president, McClellan sent trivia.
President Abraham Lincoln, Washington, D.C.
We have just captured six cows. What shall we do with them?
George B. McClellan
Lincoln, being witty, responded:
George B. McClellan, Army of the Potomac:
As to the six cows captured - milk them.
A. Lincoln
Ideal Tool
Moderator
My grandfather was born in 1870, in Genoa, Italy. being a stone mason, he found work building the fortifications in Alsace-Lorane. When they were digging the foundations for the house where my dad was born..1908, they came across blue wool cloth, brass buttons, and finally human bones with the blood still on them..this was from the 1870 Franco-Prussion war. My granparents ran a little resturant there, one day a big German officer came in and ordered rabbit with corn-meal mush. Grandpa said to come back in an hour or so. Grandpa not wanting to lose a paying customer had not told him he had no rabbit...He went out to alley in back & found big tomcat. After the meal, as he was lighting his pipe and relaxing over a final glass of wine, he said that was the best rabbit he had ever had! In 1912 grandma with 4 little kids under 6 years came to this country on the Ancona. She couldn't speak a word of english (grandpa had come over in 1910). During WW1, the Ancona was converted to a troop ship & was sunk off North African coast by Austrian U boat...Captined by Von Trap. I never did get to meet my grandfather, he having drowned in 1933. Grandma lived to see men walk on the moon, she died at 92.
So I'm reading Lady Florentia Sale's book
A Journal of the Disasters in Afghanistan. She was married to General Sale, who was posted up there.
Suwars, troopers (cavalrymen)
palkee, palanquin
Feringhees, europeans
Interesting how over a century and a half later, some folks think nothing of killing a woman there today.
A Journal of the Disasters in Afghanistan. She was married to General Sale, who was posted up there.
A poor woman, a Mrs. Smith, the wife of a conductor, was traveling up the Bolan pass to Kandahar, with a few suwars as a guard. She was attacked by the Belooches; the suwars fled, Mrs. Smith got out of her palkee and ran a short distance, but was soon overtaken and killed; the body was not plundered, and her rings were found on her fingers, and her earrings in her ears; not that they committed the act from hatred to the Feringhees and disdain of plunder, but that, according to the superstition of these tribes, it is a most unlucky circumstance to kill a woman; and finding their victim of the gentle sex, the fled, and left her as she fell.
Suwars, troopers (cavalrymen)
palkee, palanquin
Feringhees, europeans
Interesting how over a century and a half later, some folks think nothing of killing a woman there today.
Letter from a wife to a husband during WW II
The husband is Lt. C. Windsor Miller, commanding a M4A3E8 Sherman (76 mm gun) tank platoon. At the time his wife Gracie was awakened to witness this act of God, Miller was leading his platoon (actually he was ordered to be in the second vehicle) across the bridge at Remagen. The very first tanks to do so after its capture! Miller saw ten more days of combat before being pulled out and sent on R&R in Paris. It was during his R&R and that he received Gracie's letter.
Miller gives talks and his memoirs, A Tanker's View of World War II, is published by Thomas Publications of Gettysburg. ISBN 1-5774--111-3
The strangest thing happened last night that left me filled with all kinds of emotions such as confusion, fear, joy, amazement and wonder. I don't know how long I had been asleep but I suddenly awakened and sat straight up to see a bright light shining on your picture which was on my dresser. I could not cry out or get up, all I could do was just stare at this phenomenon and wonder what message it was trying to convey. Did something happen to you? Were you in trouble? Are you all right? The light on your picture slowly dimmed until it was gone and my room was left in total darkness. I lay back on my pillow trying to determine what meaning I could attach to this awesome experience which left me totally drained but mysteriously calm and assured that all was well, permitting me to fall back into a deep sleep for the rest of the night.
The husband is Lt. C. Windsor Miller, commanding a M4A3E8 Sherman (76 mm gun) tank platoon. At the time his wife Gracie was awakened to witness this act of God, Miller was leading his platoon (actually he was ordered to be in the second vehicle) across the bridge at Remagen. The very first tanks to do so after its capture! Miller saw ten more days of combat before being pulled out and sent on R&R in Paris. It was during his R&R and that he received Gracie's letter.
Miller gives talks and his memoirs, A Tanker's View of World War II, is published by Thomas Publications of Gettysburg. ISBN 1-5774--111-3
Sentenced for homelessness
This is modern stuff out of Weimar Germany.
"The document quoted above is the so-called declaration, which has to be signed by anyone entering the homeless shelter on Frobelstrasse. The German in which this philanthropical document is couched corresponds to the philanthropy it expresses."
That old law German Empire law was phased out as jailing a person for being obdachlos (homeless, if I got the spelling right) didn't make sense.
The above was written by Joseph "Red" Roth and published in the Neue Berliner Zeitung, Sept. 23, 1920 and later republished as "What I Saw: Reports From Berlin."
This is modern stuff out of Weimar Germany.
Case No.... P. B.
Was heard by the court in Berlin on ___ 1920.
Mr. [deleted by author] was instructed to find himself alternative accommodations within five days, failing which, notwithstanding the most strenuous efforts on his behalf to do so, he would be punished for making himself homeless. The appellant was further warned that in accordance with #361, subsection 8, of the Criminal Law of the German Empire, such punishment will consist of up to six weeks in prison, and, in accordance with #362 ibid., transferral to the police authorities, for placement in the workhouse.
XXXX
Signature of the homeless man in question.
XXXX
Signature of the police case worker.
"The document quoted above is the so-called declaration, which has to be signed by anyone entering the homeless shelter on Frobelstrasse. The German in which this philanthropical document is couched corresponds to the philanthropy it expresses."
That old law German Empire law was phased out as jailing a person for being obdachlos (homeless, if I got the spelling right) didn't make sense.
The above was written by Joseph "Red" Roth and published in the Neue Berliner Zeitung, Sept. 23, 1920 and later republished as "What I Saw: Reports From Berlin."
US Army unofficial bicycle corps
I rummaged through the Friends of the Library bookstore and found a book on the 25th Infantry, an original buffalo soldier unit. The book is The Twenty-Fifth Infantry by John H. Nankivell. It had too much modern history (for my taste) and not enough frontier and Spanish American War. I did find this gem in it.
Their bicycles were the old steel frame, one gear type. No carbon fiber or aluminum frame, titanium gears, shock absorbers or anything that can be found on a modern mountain bike. That was some tough biking.
I rummaged through the Friends of the Library bookstore and found a book on the 25th Infantry, an original buffalo soldier unit. The book is The Twenty-Fifth Infantry by John H. Nankivell. It had too much modern history (for my taste) and not enough frontier and Spanish American War. I did find this gem in it.
An innovation of this period was the establishment of the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps, under the command of 2nd Lieutenant James A. Moss. An article by Fairfax Downey in the American Weekly for September 18, 1928, gives a very entertaining description of the "Corps," and from which I have culled the following extracts:
In the heydey of the bicycle, the year 1897, there was organized at Fort Missoula, Montana, the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps. In command of the cycle corps was Lieutenant (now colonel) James A. Moss, widely known as the author of Moss's Manual and other military text books. His talent made him a fit chronicler of the activities of his command - activities which were to resolve themselves into a veritable peace-time anabasis, a series of bikes through the Rocky Mountains.
'Now this Bicycle Corps of the 25th Infantry, was not the sizable organization it sounds. With customary army conservatism, the strength of this new department was restricted to one lieutenant, one sergeant, one corporal, one musician and five privates, one of them a good mechanic. They all presumably qualified as being able to ride wheels. Before very long, they could do a good deal more than that. They cold drill, scale fences, ford streams and hike - or bike - forty miles a day in heavy marching order.
'The Corps would clear a nine foot fence in twenty seconds. The command was, 'Jump fence,' and they did it - of course 'By the numbers.' A front rank man would rest his wheel against the fence and pull himself over. Thereupon his file would pass over both wheels and follow himself. On the other side, the Corps would smartly assume the position of 'Stand to bicycle.' To ford a stream not deep and swift, they dismounted, and rolled their wheels through, but if it was a more formidable proposition, two men slung a wheel on a stick resting on their shoulders, and carried it over. Their packs consisted of aknap-sack with blanket roll and shelter half strapped to the handlebars. A haversack was carried forward underneath the horizontal bar. Under the seat was a cup, in a cloth sack to keep off the dust. The rifle was strapped horizontally on the left side of the wheel. Slung on the rider himself was the canteen and thirty rounds of ammunition, having been found that it was prudent to burden the soldier's person with little, in case of a fall.
'The corps made its first real hike to Lake Macdonald. Starting at 6:20, they had clicked off thirty-three miles by 12:30 without much untoward happening, except for two men falling in a stream. By 7:30 that night they had put fifty-one miles behind them. the next day it rained and was very muddy, but they made thirty-one miles. All in all, they made 126 miles in twenty-four hours of actual travel and that under adverse conditions. The Corps next put a hike to Yellowstone Park. A hot sun and steep hills which necessitated pushing the wheels were encountered, and down grades where it was hard to hold back also provided difficulties. At last the command halted on the Continental Divide, where half the squad took position on one side and half on the other. When a tourist asked one of the cyclcists, 'Where do you expect to go today?', the answer came back quick as a shot, 'The Lord only knows, we're following the lootenant.' Deprecating the deep dust and many falls, but enjoying the scenery and the geysers, the Corps pedaled through the park, making a speed of seven miles an hour for 133 miles.
'Their record hike was seventy-two miles averaging eight and three-quarters miles per hour. While the strength of this Corps was increased later to twenty and it proved valuable as scouts and couriers in regimental maneuvers, it did not continue, and during the usual peace inertia between wars, no similar organization took form. The extent of our country, its lack of network of roads, its large supply of horses - all these were factors discouraging cycle corps while the reverse in Europe encourages them."
Their bicycles were the old steel frame, one gear type. No carbon fiber or aluminum frame, titanium gears, shock absorbers or anything that can be found on a modern mountain bike. That was some tough biking.
Since 4V50 Gary's previous post mentions that the 25th Infantry was an original buffalo soldier unit... Who Were These Buffalo Soldiers And How Did They Get Their Name?
Photo Link:
http://projects.ajc.com/gallery/view/travel/southeast/booth-western-art/10.html
What's their connection to General John "Black Jack" Pershing?
Read all about the history of these Buffalo Soldiers and discover what they accomplished.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffalo_Soldier
Photo Link:
http://projects.ajc.com/gallery/view/travel/southeast/booth-western-art/10.html
What's their connection to General John "Black Jack" Pershing?
Read all about the history of these Buffalo Soldiers and discover what they accomplished.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffalo_Soldier
Buffalo Soldiers originally were members of the U.S. 10th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army, formed on September 21, 1866 at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.....
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffalo_Soldier