Standing on the ground of remembrance has finally transformed to moving on the ground of remembrance.
Some ways to see standing:
Stay, remain, rest
Stall, stop, idle, stagnate
Endure, abide, tolerate, weather, sustain, face
Still, calm, tranquil
Motionless, immobile, stationary
Attending, presence, being
Some ways to see moving:
Shifting, departing, leave, set out
Exploring, discovery, journey
Progress, advance, proceed, act
Change, advocate, promote, develop, offer
Dynamic, active, animate, alive, motion, doing
To stand on the ground of remembrance, you gotta first get there.
Once you get there, you need to stand there.
When to start moving again? No one knows but you.
"If you miss the moment, you miss your life." - John Daido Loori
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
What a Leader Becomes
I didn't post Round 5 - the World War I soldiers bury the dead on Christmas Day in 1914. (Not exactly what people want to read for Christmas.) Some of the dead had been in No Man's Land for an extended period of time. Sophy couldn't handle watching it and she turned away. This is what most of us would do, but there are a few who don't. They become the needed presence of strength, support and compassion.
Sophy says, "I can't watch this," and Gary replies, "It was part of the truce." The sound of his voice catches Sophy's attention. He spoke with Truth. She looks up at him and his attention is with the soldiers - the living and the dead - in No Man's Land. Gary sees something she can't see, and Sophy returns her attention to the soldiers in the field. She looks again because of Gary. Sophy can only see one moment, and in that one moment she sees the truth. It's too intense and Sophy must turn away, but she gains a new awareness. What will she do with it?
That flash of a moment found its way onto the paper in early December. Five months to write a few sentences. Even I learned from the process of writing 'Illumination Rounds.' It's just a draft, but with an editor and a few subject matter experts, it can be so much more.
Sophy says, "I can't watch this," and Gary replies, "It was part of the truce." The sound of his voice catches Sophy's attention. He spoke with Truth. She looks up at him and his attention is with the soldiers - the living and the dead - in No Man's Land. Gary sees something she can't see, and Sophy returns her attention to the soldiers in the field. She looks again because of Gary. Sophy can only see one moment, and in that one moment she sees the truth. It's too intense and Sophy must turn away, but she gains a new awareness. What will she do with it?
That flash of a moment found its way onto the paper in early December. Five months to write a few sentences. Even I learned from the process of writing 'Illumination Rounds.' It's just a draft, but with an editor and a few subject matter experts, it can be so much more.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Christmas in July
I think the creative muse likes to appear during stormy weather. What could be in the flash of lightening, rumbling thunder and torrential rain that delivers the creative muse? When rain is literally pouring from the clouds, words seem to fall just as fast on the page. The key element for me may be “paper.” When cloud to ground lightening is fierce outside, I pick up pencil and paper, not my laptop. I don’t analyze the idea. I don’t edit. I capture the words entering my awareness. That’s it. Stormy weather sparks a different process. The next morning, I type the words into a Word doc. (Then I edit.)
The creative muse arrived on July 28, 2009. During the storm, a familiar character from Alpha Company arrived as an idea. In my imagination he appeared similar to a cut-out photo. The idea of him caught my attention. "Why?" (His presence suggested an answer. An interesting twist, I thought.) Two other soldiers stepped into my writer's awareness. "Why them?" I wondered. The book was complete. It could have been easy to dismiss the unexpected - seemingly disconnected - idea (plus, it was war again). But it arrived with a creative "Pay Attention" presence. So... I said yes to exploring the idea. The words flowed. It was fun - the process not the scenes. By the end of the night, I had something.
The next day I received a package in the mail from Don S. The package included a letter, two books and other significant writing. In his handwritten letter was a connection (an answer) to the story that fell on the page the night before. I paused in total wonderment after I read his words and received the answer to "Why them?" They were the three platoon leaders. A fact I had forgotten. Of course, Sophy would go with them, she trusted them and they had something they wanted to show her.
There are seven rounds in Illumination Rounds. Some of the final words from Round 7:
Sophy looked at John, Gary and Frank, “Why me?”
“You remembered,” said Frank.
Sophy went with the three platoon leaders and they guided her through the remembrance of the Christmas Truce. It was a place Sophy wouldn't have journeyed to by herself. The location was dismal; the described smells aren't ginger, cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon; and the visuals aren't easy. It took me many passes as a writer to see the soldiers burying the dead on Christmas. Yes, it was part of the truce. The story brought a new level of awareness on the ground of remembrance. There is a gift in 'Illuminated Rounds' but most often it takes a lot of time to see it.
The creative muse arrived on July 28, 2009. During the storm, a familiar character from Alpha Company arrived as an idea. In my imagination he appeared similar to a cut-out photo. The idea of him caught my attention. "Why?" (His presence suggested an answer. An interesting twist, I thought.) Two other soldiers stepped into my writer's awareness. "Why them?" I wondered. The book was complete. It could have been easy to dismiss the unexpected - seemingly disconnected - idea (plus, it was war again). But it arrived with a creative "Pay Attention" presence. So... I said yes to exploring the idea. The words flowed. It was fun - the process not the scenes. By the end of the night, I had something.
The next day I received a package in the mail from Don S. The package included a letter, two books and other significant writing. In his handwritten letter was a connection (an answer) to the story that fell on the page the night before. I paused in total wonderment after I read his words and received the answer to "Why them?" They were the three platoon leaders. A fact I had forgotten. Of course, Sophy would go with them, she trusted them and they had something they wanted to show her.
There are seven rounds in Illumination Rounds. Some of the final words from Round 7:
Sophy looked at John, Gary and Frank, “Why me?”
“You remembered,” said Frank.
Sophy went with the three platoon leaders and they guided her through the remembrance of the Christmas Truce. It was a place Sophy wouldn't have journeyed to by herself. The location was dismal; the described smells aren't ginger, cloves, nutmeg and cinnamon; and the visuals aren't easy. It took me many passes as a writer to see the soldiers burying the dead on Christmas. Yes, it was part of the truce. The story brought a new level of awareness on the ground of remembrance. There is a gift in 'Illuminated Rounds' but most often it takes a lot of time to see it.
Illumination Rounds - Round 6
Middle Ground
The sun was sinking closer to the horizon. Charles, who had struggled during burial duty stepped up to a German soldier.
“Fritz, can you spare a tree for our brothers?” Charles didn’t wait for an answer but continued, “I don’t want to bury them today and forget about them tonight. At least, not on this particular night. They weren’t the broken shells we buried today. I want to remember my brothers tonight”
The German looked out over the field, “My brothers were there too.”
Fritz turned to the German line and walked toward the parapet where a Christmas tree stood. He jumped over the parapet and Charles watched him disappear. Charles waited, holding his own Christmas vigil. Unseen by Charles, but seen by Sophy, Fritz’s head was bobbing as he worked to gather something. And then Fritz stepped up on the parapet. He dropped his hand into a cloth bag, pulled out a candle and lifted it up to show Charles. Fritz dropped it back into the bag, and then with the free hand took hold of the 2½ foot tall tree. He walked back to the intermingling soldiers and looked around. “Where is the middle ground?”
The soldiers looked back at their sectors for a comparison point. There was a flurry of responses in different languages suggesting where middle ground was and how best to calculate it. It seemed the question of middle ground could lead to hours of discussion. Charles piped up, “Let’s just place it here, where you’re standing. Fritz, you have the tree. Release it and that’s middle ground.”
Fritz smiled, and gently let go of the small pine, which dropped to the ground.
Fritz took hold of the trunk and pushed it firmly into the chewed up earth. “Medius humus. This is it - Centro.” He secured the tree’s balance with a few rocks.
“This is for them,” said Charles as he waved his arm across both sides of No Man’s Land.
Charles looked at Fritz, “Gratias ago vos.”*
Charles glanced at his buddies, “I’ll be back. They need more than a Christmas tree.” Soldiers from both sides remembered the morning and scattered back to their posts. Fritz placed candles on the tree and lit them. The little tree in the center of No Man’s Land flickered with lights. Charles came back with a bottle of rum. He lifted up the bottle, “For you my brother, Merry Christmas” and swallowed. He took a postcard out of his pocket and placed it on the ground by the tree. “One day I’ll take the trip for you, I promise.”
He passed the bottle, and another soldier took it. “Merry Christmas, Heinrich.” The rum got passed around and each soldier honored at least one fallen comrade-in-arms, but most took a few swigs. Toasts, favored jokes, and laughter ricocheted from side to side but always returned to the center. Some left a simple memento, a photo, a cigar or a cigarette that would never be smoked. Cigarettes began to pile under the tree. One burly soldier stepped out of the flickering shadows and picked up a cigarette from the offering that rested on the ground. As he lit the cigarette with the flame from a candle on the tree, Sophy reacted with a thought, “That bastard, he’s ruining it.” A similar judgment circulated in the group.
The flash of tension didn't stop the soldier. He raised the lit cigarette high into air, and held it there, waiting. Eyes caught the effort of his outstretched reach that also exposed him to the below freezing temperature. The tip was a miniature beacon of light. He waited until silence entered the moment.
“A silent night for you.” He paused.
“Peace, my brothers.”
He brought down the cigarette to his lips, took an inhale that reached into the deepest recesses of his lungs, and then slowly, ever so slowly, exhaled into the clear great silence of the night. They all watched in wonder as the smoke alighted and swirled, luminous in the moonlight. All eyes followed the smoke taking flight into the wide open space below the star filled sky.
One steadfast voice called out, “Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh.”
Another voice repeated the wistful call, “Sleep in heavenly peace.”
Candlelight pulsed, the light stretched toward the soldiers, brightening foreheads while shadows of their noses danced across their faces. Sophy glanced to her guides, who stood by her. They were as spellbound as the others. Gary felt Sophy’s attention; he glanced at her and whispered, “This is Christmas.”
*have not validated the Latin words for "middle," "center" and "thank you"
© 2009 Jean A. Niedert
The sun was sinking closer to the horizon. Charles, who had struggled during burial duty stepped up to a German soldier.
“Fritz, can you spare a tree for our brothers?” Charles didn’t wait for an answer but continued, “I don’t want to bury them today and forget about them tonight. At least, not on this particular night. They weren’t the broken shells we buried today. I want to remember my brothers tonight”
The German looked out over the field, “My brothers were there too.”
Fritz turned to the German line and walked toward the parapet where a Christmas tree stood. He jumped over the parapet and Charles watched him disappear. Charles waited, holding his own Christmas vigil. Unseen by Charles, but seen by Sophy, Fritz’s head was bobbing as he worked to gather something. And then Fritz stepped up on the parapet. He dropped his hand into a cloth bag, pulled out a candle and lifted it up to show Charles. Fritz dropped it back into the bag, and then with the free hand took hold of the 2½ foot tall tree. He walked back to the intermingling soldiers and looked around. “Where is the middle ground?”
The soldiers looked back at their sectors for a comparison point. There was a flurry of responses in different languages suggesting where middle ground was and how best to calculate it. It seemed the question of middle ground could lead to hours of discussion. Charles piped up, “Let’s just place it here, where you’re standing. Fritz, you have the tree. Release it and that’s middle ground.”
Fritz smiled, and gently let go of the small pine, which dropped to the ground.
Fritz took hold of the trunk and pushed it firmly into the chewed up earth. “Medius humus. This is it - Centro.” He secured the tree’s balance with a few rocks.
“This is for them,” said Charles as he waved his arm across both sides of No Man’s Land.
Charles looked at Fritz, “Gratias ago vos.”*
Charles glanced at his buddies, “I’ll be back. They need more than a Christmas tree.” Soldiers from both sides remembered the morning and scattered back to their posts. Fritz placed candles on the tree and lit them. The little tree in the center of No Man’s Land flickered with lights. Charles came back with a bottle of rum. He lifted up the bottle, “For you my brother, Merry Christmas” and swallowed. He took a postcard out of his pocket and placed it on the ground by the tree. “One day I’ll take the trip for you, I promise.”
He passed the bottle, and another soldier took it. “Merry Christmas, Heinrich.” The rum got passed around and each soldier honored at least one fallen comrade-in-arms, but most took a few swigs. Toasts, favored jokes, and laughter ricocheted from side to side but always returned to the center. Some left a simple memento, a photo, a cigar or a cigarette that would never be smoked. Cigarettes began to pile under the tree. One burly soldier stepped out of the flickering shadows and picked up a cigarette from the offering that rested on the ground. As he lit the cigarette with the flame from a candle on the tree, Sophy reacted with a thought, “That bastard, he’s ruining it.” A similar judgment circulated in the group.
The flash of tension didn't stop the soldier. He raised the lit cigarette high into air, and held it there, waiting. Eyes caught the effort of his outstretched reach that also exposed him to the below freezing temperature. The tip was a miniature beacon of light. He waited until silence entered the moment.
“A silent night for you.” He paused.
“Peace, my brothers.”
He brought down the cigarette to his lips, took an inhale that reached into the deepest recesses of his lungs, and then slowly, ever so slowly, exhaled into the clear great silence of the night. They all watched in wonder as the smoke alighted and swirled, luminous in the moonlight. All eyes followed the smoke taking flight into the wide open space below the star filled sky.
One steadfast voice called out, “Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh.”
Another voice repeated the wistful call, “Sleep in heavenly peace.”
Candlelight pulsed, the light stretched toward the soldiers, brightening foreheads while shadows of their noses danced across their faces. Sophy glanced to her guides, who stood by her. They were as spellbound as the others. Gary felt Sophy’s attention; he glanced at her and whispered, “This is Christmas.”
*have not validated the Latin words for "middle," "center" and "thank you"
© 2009 Jean A. Niedert
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Eve - 95 Years Ago
“In the early months of World War I, on Christmas Eve, men on both sides laid down their arms and joined in a spontaneous celebration. Despite orders to continue shooting, the unofficial truce spread across the front line. … Throughout his narrative, Stanley Weintraub uses the recollections of the men who were there, as well as their letters and diaries, to illuminate the fragile truce and bring to life this extraordinary moment in time.” (From the back cover of Silent Night by Stanley Weintraub)
There's a website "Christmas Truce 1914 - Operation Plum Puddings," which is an outcome from the research conducted by Alan Cleaver and Lesley Park for the booklet Plum Puddings for All.
Check out the Christmas Truce Overview and read some of the letters from soldiers who were there.
There's a website "Christmas Truce 1914 - Operation Plum Puddings," which is an outcome from the research conducted by Alan Cleaver and Lesley Park for the booklet Plum Puddings for All.
Check out the Christmas Truce Overview and read some of the letters from soldiers who were there.
Illumination Rounds - Round 2
This is an excerpt from the chapter Illumination Rounds from the new story I'm writing. I have not included Round 1 - The Arrival. The scene is at on a dark night. Suspend your disbelief and read...
Round 2 - The Return
...“Walk with me,” said John.
They slogged through a muddy, pocked battleground and moved deeper into the darkness. A rotting stench assaulted Sophy's nose, watering her eyes.
“This doesn’t smell like a past war,” Sophy said to John, “This smells like today’s war.”
“Sophy,” John paused, “when did you turn soft on us? You’ve been out in war before. You know better.”
Sophy did know better and didn’t pause long enough to consider the source. It was something to keep buried. Sophy heard a few scattered shots firing at different points in the distance. The unexpected pops took her attention far away from the presence saturating the winter air.
“Where are we?”
John touched her arm, “Trust us!” Sophy looked toward Gary and Frank, seemingly walking point, yet carrying no guns. They held no fear in their bodies. Both stopped as they approached the clearing, and Gary pointed at a glow pulsing in the distance. “There’s one!”
They looked in the direction of Gary’s outstretched arm, and Sophy noticed the glow seemed to be in the shape of a pyramid. Frank piped up, “Look, there’s a few more.” Widening her perspective, the lights were twinkling at various points in a line to their right.
The shape looked familiar but the mystery of the time and place puzzled her. “What are they?” Sophy asked.
“Christmas trees on the German’s trench parapets,” said Frank.
Sophy countered, “Christmas trees in the middle of war?”
“If you dissolve the boundaries of where you are – forget the war - it’s a candlelight vigil on Christmas Eve,” said Frank. “Did you ever think you would see this?”
“No, I'd never imagine this. I thought I was done with war when Jimmy took me home.”
“That’s why we’re here. To show you something you’d never imagine by yourself. George did his job and now it’s our turn.”
“Where are we?” asked Sophy.
“Flanders Field on Christmas Eve - 1914. You've returned to the ground of remembrance.”
©2009 Jean A Niedert
Round 2 - The Return
...“Walk with me,” said John.
They slogged through a muddy, pocked battleground and moved deeper into the darkness. A rotting stench assaulted Sophy's nose, watering her eyes.
“This doesn’t smell like a past war,” Sophy said to John, “This smells like today’s war.”
“Sophy,” John paused, “when did you turn soft on us? You’ve been out in war before. You know better.”
Sophy did know better and didn’t pause long enough to consider the source. It was something to keep buried. Sophy heard a few scattered shots firing at different points in the distance. The unexpected pops took her attention far away from the presence saturating the winter air.
“Where are we?”
John touched her arm, “Trust us!” Sophy looked toward Gary and Frank, seemingly walking point, yet carrying no guns. They held no fear in their bodies. Both stopped as they approached the clearing, and Gary pointed at a glow pulsing in the distance. “There’s one!”
They looked in the direction of Gary’s outstretched arm, and Sophy noticed the glow seemed to be in the shape of a pyramid. Frank piped up, “Look, there’s a few more.” Widening her perspective, the lights were twinkling at various points in a line to their right.
The shape looked familiar but the mystery of the time and place puzzled her. “What are they?” Sophy asked.
“Christmas trees on the German’s trench parapets,” said Frank.
Sophy countered, “Christmas trees in the middle of war?”
“If you dissolve the boundaries of where you are – forget the war - it’s a candlelight vigil on Christmas Eve,” said Frank. “Did you ever think you would see this?”
“No, I'd never imagine this. I thought I was done with war when Jimmy took me home.”
“That’s why we’re here. To show you something you’d never imagine by yourself. George did his job and now it’s our turn.”
“Where are we?” asked Sophy.
“Flanders Field on Christmas Eve - 1914. You've returned to the ground of remembrance.”
©2009 Jean A Niedert
Friday, December 18, 2009
Let's Talk about War
Most everyone likes to talk about the wars... Afghanistan, Iraq, Vietnam, WWII, WWI, the outer conflicts, and sometimes even the inner conflicts. That's been the biggest surprise for me this year with the book. Listening to reader feedback has enlightened me in so many ways. One reader couldn't read about the Vietnam War presented in italic type. I wanted to say, "You're missing a lot of the story!" But I recognized this is life. I stayed silent on that point and listened to what she got out of half the story. She talked about war.
I was at a luncheon last week and was introduced to Kate. The lady who introduced me added at the end, "She wrote a book!" Kate asked, "What's the book about?" And so, I began the 15-second summary.
A puzzled look from Kate. "What did you know about war to write a book?" I laughed, and replied, "Not much."
That's it. I learned in elementary school to "stay away from war" (See The Box by Lascelles Abercrombie). I put the blinders on. A few years after college, encountering a bright flash that held a mystery, I stepped out of the boundaries. I started writing a story that I was totally unprepared to write (but too naive to know). Along the way, I met people who provided guidance and support, I learned, and the first part of story became a book.
Kate asked how the book was being received. I told her the first printing was a preview copy so its not available in stores or on amazon, but the response has been positive. I added that I had to get used to the book being out in the world. I loved this - she said, "But its not about you." Words of wisdom from a stranger. It took me all of 2009 to get it. I wrote the book, but the story is not about me. Its about being totally unprepared to do something ... but trying anyway, and finding your way. It takes time.
I was at a luncheon last week and was introduced to Kate. The lady who introduced me added at the end, "She wrote a book!" Kate asked, "What's the book about?" And so, I began the 15-second summary.
A puzzled look from Kate. "What did you know about war to write a book?" I laughed, and replied, "Not much."
That's it. I learned in elementary school to "stay away from war" (See The Box by Lascelles Abercrombie). I put the blinders on. A few years after college, encountering a bright flash that held a mystery, I stepped out of the boundaries. I started writing a story that I was totally unprepared to write (but too naive to know). Along the way, I met people who provided guidance and support, I learned, and the first part of story became a book.
Kate asked how the book was being received. I told her the first printing was a preview copy so its not available in stores or on amazon, but the response has been positive. I added that I had to get used to the book being out in the world. I loved this - she said, "But its not about you." Words of wisdom from a stranger. It took me all of 2009 to get it. I wrote the book, but the story is not about me. Its about being totally unprepared to do something ... but trying anyway, and finding your way. It takes time.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
War & Peace
During the book club discussion, K- voiced that after finishing RESURGAM she didn't feel peace but felt sad (maybe it was even "incredibly sad"). All eyes turned to me. What would I say? First, her response didn't surprise me. I don't expect anyone to receive peace by reading the book. The book illuminates the discovery of peace in an unlikely place.
I certainly didn't expect to find peace in the desolation and darkness of a WWI battleground. I went to Verdun looking for clues to help me write the next chapter that would get Sophy out of the seemingly desolate space of her own making.
"RESURGAM" is a living story - its always transforming. The peace I discovered in Verdun wasn't some tangible item that I acquired and possessed. It was an experience that happened. As I wrote someone this week, "the curtain parts and you experience a moment of clarity. You get it! Yet just as quick as the curtain parts, it closes and you're back in the dark." The peace I experienced at Verdun was a flash of experience. I didn't, and couldn't, hold on to the peace I discovered there.
A reader turns the page in one second and begins the next chapter, but the time it takes to write those two chapters can be significant. I discovered (experienced) peace in Verdun in May 1998 but the understanding of what happened didn't occur until August 1999. The "between time" - the liminal period - was over a year. What occurred in that transition isn't even included in the story! Even people who knew me during that period didn't know about the transition.
I thought I would be done with the wars once the story was in book form. I looked forward to "being in the garden" just like Alpha Company looked forward to returning home. This year I learned the truth of a statement I overheard the day I met Alpha Company in October 1987. (I don't even think I included the statement in the book.) "I was there in 1968. I came home in 1970 and I'm still fighting the war." That's a statement of truth that soldiers get, but observing civilians don't. Yet this is transferable to anyone's life: War (conflict) never 'ends,' it transforms into something else. One comes home to face a different war. You only need to be aware of the war (or conflict) you're in.
Where's peace in a warring world? It begins with one discovery. The curtain parts, the flash of experience occurs, the curtain drops and its dark again. What do you do in the next moment? That's what I learned from the Alpha Company. How to respond with peace in a warring world. Phil may be gone, but others have stepped up and I'm still learning from them. The gift is to pass it on.
I certainly didn't expect to find peace in the desolation and darkness of a WWI battleground. I went to Verdun looking for clues to help me write the next chapter that would get Sophy out of the seemingly desolate space of her own making.
"RESURGAM" is a living story - its always transforming. The peace I discovered in Verdun wasn't some tangible item that I acquired and possessed. It was an experience that happened. As I wrote someone this week, "the curtain parts and you experience a moment of clarity. You get it! Yet just as quick as the curtain parts, it closes and you're back in the dark." The peace I experienced at Verdun was a flash of experience. I didn't, and couldn't, hold on to the peace I discovered there.
A reader turns the page in one second and begins the next chapter, but the time it takes to write those two chapters can be significant. I discovered (experienced) peace in Verdun in May 1998 but the understanding of what happened didn't occur until August 1999. The "between time" - the liminal period - was over a year. What occurred in that transition isn't even included in the story! Even people who knew me during that period didn't know about the transition.
I thought I would be done with the wars once the story was in book form. I looked forward to "being in the garden" just like Alpha Company looked forward to returning home. This year I learned the truth of a statement I overheard the day I met Alpha Company in October 1987. (I don't even think I included the statement in the book.) "I was there in 1968. I came home in 1970 and I'm still fighting the war." That's a statement of truth that soldiers get, but observing civilians don't. Yet this is transferable to anyone's life: War (conflict) never 'ends,' it transforms into something else. One comes home to face a different war. You only need to be aware of the war (or conflict) you're in.
Where's peace in a warring world? It begins with one discovery. The curtain parts, the flash of experience occurs, the curtain drops and its dark again. What do you do in the next moment? That's what I learned from the Alpha Company. How to respond with peace in a warring world. Phil may be gone, but others have stepped up and I'm still learning from them. The gift is to pass it on.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Brothers
Brothers - A Somewhat True Memoir by Jerry Autry and Raz Autry Jerry sent me a copy of his new book just before Thanksgiving. I've been able to peek at pages (also called dipping - open the book, find a starting point, and read a little). I did confess to Jerry I've already read the ending. A bad habit, which is incongruent behavior for a writer who wants everyone to read RESURGAM from the beginning and not jump around. I must have an attraction of peach orchards, or maybe farming, because I want to know more about the Raz's peach orchard! (Since I'm on track to read the book from beginning to end, I will.)
There's a wonderful passage by Clara Ortega on the page before the Preface:
BOOK: Brothers - A Somewhat True Memoir by Jerry Autry & Raz Autry Proceeds from the sale of Brothers will be donated to the Hospice Foundation of Hoke County, NC; DHS (Dunn High School) Friends; the Vietvets Family Project; and the Betsy Johnson Regional Hospital Foundation: Friends of the Foundation Fighting Cancer.
There's a wonderful passage by Clara Ortega on the page before the Preface:
To the outside world we all grow old.
But not to brothers and sisters.
We know each other as we always were.
We know each others hearts.
We share private jokes.
We remember family feuds and secrets,
family grief and joys.
We live outside the touch of time.
But not to brothers and sisters.
We know each other as we always were.
We know each others hearts.
We share private jokes.
We remember family feuds and secrets,
family grief and joys.
We live outside the touch of time.
BOOK: Brothers - A Somewhat True Memoir by Jerry Autry & Raz Autry Proceeds from the sale of Brothers will be donated to the Hospice Foundation of Hoke County, NC; DHS (Dunn High School) Friends; the Vietvets Family Project; and the Betsy Johnson Regional Hospital Foundation: Friends of the Foundation Fighting Cancer.
Connnecting Points
When I finished the story's end in October 2007, I wanted to reconnect with Phil to tell him the good news just before Veteran's Day. I searched for him and uncovered the devastating news as I read In Memoriam on Airborne Press. I wrote Airborne Press about Phil and it was Jerry who replied to me. (Airborne Press had published Phil's book Rhymer in the Sunset - A Combat Soldiers Poetic Perspective on the Vietnam Experience.) Jerry's e-mails were encouraging during that time.
One of the letters I received this year was from Don S., he was the Company Commander when Alpha Company left Fort Campbell in December 1967 and landed in Vietnam. The 7-page handwritten letter from Don is priceless (along with the other writing he gave me). Don shared his memories with me and mentioned Jerry. I've realized I need to share the bigger story that I've received so here's a portrait of Jerry through Don's eyes:
Jerry Autry - Our Battalion Chaplain. A "Gun-Totin Chaplain" (the title of his book). And he was. The most decorated for Valor chaplain of the Vietnam War, including a Silver Star and two Purple Hearts. It tells you something about the intensity of combat our Battalion experienced. He came to us in the middle of the carnage of Operation Carentan II in April 68 (named after Carentan I - the 101st Airborne Division air assault at Normandy). We were and are brothers in war and in spirit. When I finally gave up command of Alpha Company in mid-May and became the Battalion Adjutant I had to force him to spend some time in the base camp ministering to the soldiers there instead of spending all his time with the rifle companies. He is truly an extraordinary being and one of the great Army Chaplains of all time. Somewhere along the way he developed this strong affinity for Alpha Co. We consider him one of us. Jerry is also an accomplished and successful author. His book on General Lee, the father of the Airborne, first Commander of the 101st and one of the greatest true leaders in Army history is a masterwork of photos and text. He and General Lee are native sons of Dunn, NC. General Lee's home is now a small visitor's center and museum. Jerry's book sales helped create it. It's a very special place filled with the spirit of a great and good man and his wife. The Airborne artifacts and the Lee's furnishings are priceless. Jerry, by the way, a great paratrooper like his hero, General Lee, was Division Chaplain of the 82nd Airborne Division.
BOOKS by Jerry Autry:
General William C. Lee: Father of the Airborne : Just Plain Bill
Gun-Totin Chaplain
One of the letters I received this year was from Don S., he was the Company Commander when Alpha Company left Fort Campbell in December 1967 and landed in Vietnam. The 7-page handwritten letter from Don is priceless (along with the other writing he gave me). Don shared his memories with me and mentioned Jerry. I've realized I need to share the bigger story that I've received so here's a portrait of Jerry through Don's eyes:
Jerry Autry - Our Battalion Chaplain. A "Gun-Totin Chaplain" (the title of his book). And he was. The most decorated for Valor chaplain of the Vietnam War, including a Silver Star and two Purple Hearts. It tells you something about the intensity of combat our Battalion experienced. He came to us in the middle of the carnage of Operation Carentan II in April 68 (named after Carentan I - the 101st Airborne Division air assault at Normandy). We were and are brothers in war and in spirit. When I finally gave up command of Alpha Company in mid-May and became the Battalion Adjutant I had to force him to spend some time in the base camp ministering to the soldiers there instead of spending all his time with the rifle companies. He is truly an extraordinary being and one of the great Army Chaplains of all time. Somewhere along the way he developed this strong affinity for Alpha Co. We consider him one of us. Jerry is also an accomplished and successful author. His book on General Lee, the father of the Airborne, first Commander of the 101st and one of the greatest true leaders in Army history is a masterwork of photos and text. He and General Lee are native sons of Dunn, NC. General Lee's home is now a small visitor's center and museum. Jerry's book sales helped create it. It's a very special place filled with the spirit of a great and good man and his wife. The Airborne artifacts and the Lee's furnishings are priceless. Jerry, by the way, a great paratrooper like his hero, General Lee, was Division Chaplain of the 82nd Airborne Division.
BOOKS by Jerry Autry:
General William C. Lee: Father of the Airborne : Just Plain Bill
Gun-Totin Chaplain
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Making the Connection
Today I had the opportunity to read once more Thomas Keating's experience at the American Cemetery in Anzio Beach, Italy. The gift of understanding sunk even deeper due to the repetition of reading the words again. This first time I read Keating's experience about walking through the American Cemetery near Anzio Beach, I connected to it. His experience resonated with me due to my collaboration with Phil to write Alpha Company's story and my own journey to Verdun to remember the unknown soldiers. While reading Keating's book, I thought about sending Thomas Keating my book, and a few weeks later did just that. He responded by letting me know he liked the book. A few weeks ago, I felt compelled to share his note with Jerry and Mac (both from Alpha Company). Both responded and Mac's note included this: "One of my uncles fought at Anzio and throughout the war, all the way into Germany. Like me, he was an infantry soldier. We come from a long line of infantry soldiers."
Today a deeper understanding arrived as I reread the words Thomas Keating wrote, "So I waited until the required date approached and entered the Cistercian monastery in Valley Falls, Rhode Island in January 1944. That was about the time of Anzio Beach and the Italian campaign. I entered the monastery specifically to pray for the soldiers and victims of the war." Keating continued, "I was well aware that I had been spared from this terrible war through not merit of my own."
Mac's uncle was at Anzio Beach in 1944, so Thomas Keating was praying for Mac’s uncle. Mac's uncle probably knew some of the soldiers buried at the American Cemetery near Anzio Beach. The thread of connection from 1944 between Mac's uncle and Thomas Keating was pulled forward in 2009. To you, it may seem like an ethereal untouchable thread from the past. But from where I stand, I see an endless multitude supplying continuity, texture and meaning. Mac's words deserve repeating: "Like me, he was an infantry soldier. We come from a long line of infantry soldiers."
Thomas Keating wrote in his book The Fruits and Gifts of the Spirit, “…everything in human affairs is interconnected. Whatever we do for others now will someday be returned. Even modern physics tells us that, in the physical universe, everything is interconnected.” The bigger picture of interconnectedness provides support and guidance during the transitions from the unknown into the known. They have gone before me and I can learn from them.
Does knowledge of this connection make a difference to you? Maybe not this one connection. Do I think it makes a difference to Mac? That's a definite yes.
Today a deeper understanding arrived as I reread the words Thomas Keating wrote, "So I waited until the required date approached and entered the Cistercian monastery in Valley Falls, Rhode Island in January 1944. That was about the time of Anzio Beach and the Italian campaign. I entered the monastery specifically to pray for the soldiers and victims of the war." Keating continued, "I was well aware that I had been spared from this terrible war through not merit of my own."
Mac's uncle was at Anzio Beach in 1944, so Thomas Keating was praying for Mac’s uncle. Mac's uncle probably knew some of the soldiers buried at the American Cemetery near Anzio Beach. The thread of connection from 1944 between Mac's uncle and Thomas Keating was pulled forward in 2009. To you, it may seem like an ethereal untouchable thread from the past. But from where I stand, I see an endless multitude supplying continuity, texture and meaning. Mac's words deserve repeating: "Like me, he was an infantry soldier. We come from a long line of infantry soldiers."
Thomas Keating wrote in his book The Fruits and Gifts of the Spirit, “…everything in human affairs is interconnected. Whatever we do for others now will someday be returned. Even modern physics tells us that, in the physical universe, everything is interconnected.” The bigger picture of interconnectedness provides support and guidance during the transitions from the unknown into the known. They have gone before me and I can learn from them.
Does knowledge of this connection make a difference to you? Maybe not this one connection. Do I think it makes a difference to Mac? That's a definite yes.
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