USMC--Birthday of a Giant

Happy Birthday to the Marine Corps!

Older than the nation it defends. Feared by militaries around the world. The Few, The Proud.

As I tapped out that last line I remembered that not all happy with their decision to join the Marines. Let me tell you my side of the story.

In 1966 the local draft board in Newport News, VA sent me a cutesy little letter informing me that I, a registered sophomore in college, was now classified as a 1-A and not a 2-S. I was eligible for the draft. That put a quick damper on my immediate future as a college student. A day or two later I received a short handwritten letter from my mom in which she had enclosed a clipping from the local newspaper. The clipping stated that several hundred (memory says 'thousands') Virginia young men would be called up in the very near future and many were in college. The war in Vietnam was escalating.

I had already registered for the fall term but quickly put the skids to my educational future by informing the registrar that I was withdrawing from school. The college president got wind of it and called me into the office for a quick chat. I think he was more concerned about the basketball team (I was a starting guard at the small college in Pennsylvania... never would've made the team at a bigger school) than my education. I politely informed him that my decision was final, shook his hand, and left to pack away my things.

The following morning mom and dad arrived at the school shortly after breakfast, having left home 6 hours earlier, to give me a ride home. One year earlier they had dropped me off at college and were now retrieving me. Six hours later I was back into my former bedroom. A college dropout.

The draft board and the recruiting services were all sequestered in the basement of the marbled post office in downtown Newport News just a few yards from the arch that many a soldier and sailor saw when either departing or returning from WW2.

I went into the draft board office and met the gray haired witch of conscription, Esther Davis. Isn't it amazing that I can remember such a person? We were told that she loved her job. After presenting my draft card I asked, "How soon will I be called up?" With nary a smile she said, "Soon."

It did not take me but milliseconds to depart her office and walk across the hall to the Navy recruiter and ask the petty officer, "Where do I sign up?" My older brother had been in the Navy Reserve and I wanted to go Navy as well. I figured with one year of college behind me I could wrangle a good job and be off to boot camp. "Sorry, but we're booked up for six months. Can't get you in."

The Air Force recruiter said the same thing. I had grown up with Army brats so I didn't want to go Army. Back to the Navy recruiter who suggested the Marines. No way, I knew enough of their history that I didn't want anything to do with them. I went to the Naval Reserve Center to sign up. "Bring in a buddy and we'll sign you up." I gave him a frank, "No," because I wouldn't drag a friend into the military at my expense.

I went back to the PO and visited the Marine Recruiter who said few words and never promised me a rose garden. He asked a few questions and offered me something that appealed to my interest. Aviation, mechanic.. We filled out the paperwork and the next morning I was off to Richmond to the Selective Service Center to take my physical. Never saw so many lines of semi-naked young men holding paperwork with large letters stamped at the top, "DRAFTED." When the processing personnel saw "ENLISTED" at the top of my paperwork I was ushered to the front of each line. By the end of the shift I was on the Greyhound back to Newport News.

To make it short, in six days I was out of college and on my way to boot camp at Parris Island, SC. In a few short words let me describe MCRD, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, eight weeks of hell.. During that time they turned me into a Marine that was proud of his selection, his unit, and his country. My weight jumped from 170 to 195 and I was in top shape.

After four more weeks of combat training at Camp Geiger it was off to Cherry Point for aviation school. Following NAMTRADET I was assigned to H & MS-24 where I spent the next 18 months in OJT. On Sept 9, 1968 I volunteered for Vietnam. In August of 1969 over 650 Marines were withdrawn from Chu Lai to Iwakuni, Japan. From Japan to El Toro, California where I was discharged.

During my four years in the Marines I learned that not all people are happy with their decision but we made the most of it, did our job, did it well. Marines are a weird bunch of people. If they're not fighting the enemy they're looking for a fight with the other military branches (poor Navy personnel), and if they weren't available, we'd fight amongst ourselves. Not me necessarily, I thought of myself as more of a lover than a fighter and I only had two scuffles during my enlistment and won them both. One of my Virginia buddies, Don Tipton, and I would literally wrestle for an hour or more or until one of us nearly passed out from exhaustion.

Many young men have had the thought that they'd never make it in the Marines but let me assure, the Marines will turn a young man into a Marine. You cannot go from one branch of the military into the Marines without going through boot camp whereas you can transfer from the Marines (at the end of your enlistment) into other branches of the service.

So, today, 234 years after its birth, the Marines are celebrating another birthday.

While in Botswana this past year I was in a restaurant at Riverwalk when I spotted two young men walking away. I quickly got up and followed them outside and called, "Gentlemen!" Neither one turned around or acknowledged me. "Semper Fi," I called and immediately they stopped and turned around. I introduced myself, "Aaron Wetterling, former Sergeant, former Marine." We shook hands.

"Are we that noticeable?"

I replied, " It takes one to know one."

Happy Birthday, Marines. Semper Fi.

Aaron Wetterling

former sergeant, former Marine

Some funny writing from my husband

Toast and Jam

Here I sit, at my computer, whiling away, thinking of friends faraway in Balalaland. They never seem to write despite the fact they now live in the computer age.

My wife peers over and shoulder and asks, "Why are you writing a letter like that?"

"I'm not going to email it... just putting my thoughts to paper... you know, therapy. Get it off my chest, so to speak."

"Don't you dare send it... it'll hurt their feelings and they may never stop by to see us again."

"Yeah, I know, but at our age all I have left to do is remember the good old days, basketball, dinner out, them coming over to our house, us going over to their house, the kids squealing and crying all the while playing together, us drinking coffee and shootin' the breeze. Life was good."

"We were much younger then. Life has changed. Times have changed, people just don't seem to communicate any more. In the old days people just showed up for a visit and stayed until the chickens went to roost. Then it was the telephone... two longs and a short and everyone picked up the line... you could hear the neighbors' phones click as they listened in on the party line..."

"My aunt and uncle had a phone like that... even I listened in one time."

"Then we got a private line and it cost a dollar more a month for the service but it was worth it, I'm sure."

"You had a phone? We had to use the neighbor's."

"With the advantages of the phone people quit visiting, or so it seemed."

"'If you decide to come over please call first,' yeah, right. Poor excuse."

"Probably glued to the tube most of the time."

"Then if you call, and you do get invited, it has to be during a time when their favorite show is not on. Then they don't turn off the TV during the visit. You practically have to shout over the noise. In the old days you could tell the noisy kids to go outside and play but you can't do that to the TV."

"Ah, the good old days. Remember them well."

"Things changed when we moved... left a lot of good friends and good times behind."

"But the memories followed right along and one day they too will fade."

"Shouldn't be the case, not with the internet. Just tap out a few words, hit 'send' and within seconds they have a message."

"The trouble with email is the nonsense people 'forward' to you thinking you'll enjoy their thoughtfulness. If you're so thoughtful spend a few minutes and tap out a real message and tell us what is going on in your life. Sheesh."

"That sort of went by the wayside with 'My Space' and 'Face Book....even Twitter' People don't mind talking about their personal lives right out in public. Just like people who have cell phones. Give their pertinent information out loud for all the world to hear and then shoot you a dirty look if you appear to be listening. Crazy."

"When I was younger people would whisper into the phone for the sake of privacy.... or they'd use a phone booth and shut the door. Now people walk down the street, or in circles, telling the world as well as the person on the other end all that is going on in their life."

"More like a status symbol...'I have a cell phone... see how big and purty it is? It has more buttons than your keyboard!'"

"How about this: 'My cell phone has more giga-bytes than your satellite TV dish! I can watch an entire movie and ignore you at the same time.'"

"Do people really want to be friends or just appear friendly?"

"Good question."

"When I was a kid you could get up a ball game by word of mouth faster than person with a cell phone. Or you could get a group of kids together and go for a bike ride, all for the sake of doing something on a summer evening."

"We used to ride our bikes all the way to Umatilla for an ice cream cone."

"Now we ride stationary bikes so we don't go anywhere that we might be seen."

"Yeah, with an iPOD in one ear and a Blue Tooth in the other. Don't want to miss a call while we're being entertained and reducing our derriere. Then on the way home we stop by the DQ window and order a small cone and as we pull away we see someone we know and are glad that they are inside and we're driving away and don't have to visit."

"Then we flip them the gesture of the thumb in the ear and pinkie to the lips and mouth the words, 'Call me.'"

"I guess we just want to appear friendly."

"Uh oh!"

"What did you do?"

"I sent it."

Our adventure is almost over

After 4 months in Africa, we are now only 3000 miles from home, having spent the night near Dulles International Airport.

At 1 p.m. Eastern time we'll catch a United flight winging our way towards Seattle. Then a brief layover until evening when we'll fly about 45 minutes to Pasco, Washington. It will be good to see our pastor and wife and catch up on everything that happened this summer. Then home to our very own bed and I hope we sleep all night long.

Tomorrow my dear mother turns 90 years old and we are having a simple birthday party for her. Shortly after we are settled we'll be working on getting my parents into an assisted living facility. My father is having more and more difficulty in caring for my mother, as she cannot walk at all.

We are looking forward to seeing our grandkids in Milton-Freewater and then going to Texas in November to see our son and family.

It's been an incredible summer, but it is now time to go home. You CAN go home again.

Saying Goodbye

The time has come to begin the Goodbyes to Botswana and to the wonderful people with whom we have become friends.

When we arrived in May at least this time we knew what to do and so we could hit the ground running. The first year we came in 2006, when Janet took us to the grocery store to stock up our little flat, I couldn't even hardly think of what to buy as I was feeling a little overwhelmed. Now....living here is a breeze.

For many that we say Goodbye to we are fairly certain we will never see them again this side of Heaven. There is Noah and Kabelo--a dear engaged couple with whom we have become close. They'll be getting married next April.

Tinaye has been such a marvelous help to Aaron and he and Aaron have become great friends. Aaron has introduced the new world of "Coffee Break" to him and Tinaye loves to have a cup of hot chocolate at one of the coffee places.

Chuck and Janet have been friends for around 30 years and we have so enjoyed helping them out here in Botswana. Mark and Victoria in Namibia we only met in 2007 but we are close to them and it was wonderful to be able to take a side trip to Namibia for 12 days.

On Sept. 16 we begin the long, long trip home. And as difficult as it is to leave, arriving home and seeing the kids, the grandkids, and my elderly parents will be wonderful

My prayer for those we leave behind is: "God be with you til we meet again."

Driving Me Crazy

Evidently it is fairly common here in Botswana for people to not have a driver's license or carry car insurance. At least it is common for the 2 people who have plowed into us since August 25. (Today is Sept. 5)

The first accident occurred right in front of policemen so there was no quarrel with whose fault it was. BUT, the police did not even ask to see the other guy's license, registration or proof of insurance. I guess it is a good thing, because he had NONE of the 3. I know this happens in the USA but I think that licensed, insured and registered drivers far outnumber those who are not.

Today we were in the parking lot of the nearby mall, getting ready to enter onto a side road to head towards home. A young lady driving a Mazda 3, newer model, was distracted (her word) and failed to see the stop sign. Fortunately Aaron saw her barreling towards us at a rate of speed that was WAY too high for a parking lot. If he had not slammed on the brakes, she would have hit our pickup in the passenger door and I probably would have been hurt.

When speaking with her and obtaining her name, phone number, etc., we discovered she had no license, and no insurance. How could we be so lucky to have two people hit us in two different vehicles who are both uninsured, etc.

I am thankful that in both cases no one was hurt.

Two Months in Botswana

We have been in country for two months and a lot has been accomplished. Aaron is very busy building, fixing, maintaining, and being the go-to guy. He thrives on it, even though it makes him very tired at night. So far I have 269 of the books entered in to the computer so that job is going along very well. I just finished listening to Michael J. Fox's latest book, and now I have a new one to start--Bill O'Reilly's "A Bold Fresh Piece of Humanity." I bought it from Barnes and Noble, downloaded it to the computer, then to iTunes and then to my iPod. Easy--well, pretty easy. Yesterday we had an appt. at the Embassy to get new pages put in to our passports. We might not need them before the passport expires in 2011, but just in case. Because the consular is going home later this month and in August, we had to make an appt. and the day available to us was the 15th, and the time given was 10. No choice in that area. We got there a little early, went through the check-in procedures and security, and were escorted to the office in the embassy. Aaron, of course, spoke to the Marines on duty (I sure wish my nephew could get that easy duty.) When we went inside there was a lady sitting there who appeared to be upset. CNN was on and the volume was down. I asked the lady if she was okay and she said she just didn't like hearing the news. We got to talking and found out that she and her husband have lived in Botswana since '92. He was a commercial airlines pilot but is now a pilot for Missionary Aviation Fellowship. This couple adopted a child from Botswana who when she was 10 days old was in an accident with her parents and another person. They were in a pickup when the accident occurred and the baby was thrown out and landed on her head. She lay on the road until sometime the next day before being discovered. The people who adopted her were told that she'd be blind, never be able to walk or to talk. But she is now 8. She can see (although she'd be considered legally blind) and she can walk and talk a bluestreak. The family spent 5 years in America getting her the medical help she needed. The mom was there to pick up her new passport since they are making a trip to the States to see family. We were at the Embassy for about 1.5 hours so it was nice to have this lady to talk to. After we got our passports back, we came back home for awhile before heading out to a hotel for lunch. Some mission executives from Springfield, MO were here very briefly and lunch was part of the plans. We went to the Grand Palm Hotel where they serve a buffet that would knock your eyes out. I threw caution to the wind and ate anything I wanted, and I seemed to want a lot. While I was out getting a dessert for Aaron and me, they execs were question Aaron about our future plans. Now all along we'd planned that this would be our last trip over here. We pay for this ourselves and maybe out kids want us to leave them a little something when we go to heaven! Actually, I think they are pleased that we are serving God in this manner and don't mind the money we spend. These guys told Aaron that we could be used in a lot of places. So who knows where we'll end up next. Every day is an adventure when Jesus is in control.

WWHWWWH

June 5 ended the first week of Fundamentals of Music.  To demonstrate one of the Musical Skills--Creating, I broke the class into 4 groups and assigned them the scripture Psalms 145:8 to create a song.  To the left you see a group outside practicing.  The other photos reflect the performances.  Oh what fun it was!

Today we worked on the major scales, thus the WWHWWH you see in the title line.  A major scale is Whole step, Whole step, Half step, etc.  I had a keyboard on my projection so could write on the white board to demonstrate a scale.  I think we made very good progress.