Tag Archives: war

Life on a Chess Board

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I change from interest, to interest looking for hobbies that are fun, and also be a brain challenge No matter what our ages, or occupation, we all have a curiosity that drives us ever forward to places we either have never been or have not spent much time in. Lately Chess has caught my interest again.

If you have never played Chess, it is outwardly a simply game with a number of pieces most of which look pretty much alike. Once you understand what those wood or plastic curiosities represent, the game starts to take on new dimensions, and can jump realities if your imagination is up to the task.

The smallest pieces are lowly pawns, peasants of old who were probably conscripted to fight a war they have little chance of living through. Like all men, they have dreams of riches and power. They are the foot soldiers who generally make the first move starting the battle as the two armies stand immobile facing each other. The lighter colored conscripted soldier steps out of the ranks, scoffs at the enemy some yards away, and he pulls down his zipper and begins to mark his territory.

Next out of the ranks and into the fray are usually the Knights. Powerful servants or friends of the King. They ride powerful war horses on the battle field, looking for victims. Generally ruthless in close proximity, they fell pawns and pieces with ruthless cunning, and surprising strength.

Those lanky Bishops are another matter, their allegiance is to the King on the surface, but their habits always leave me wondering who they really serve. Bishops have a long reach in the form of distant power. They may have spies and friends in the enemy camp. Outwardly Bishops appear innocent enough, but they too are killers; with a little more discretion. It seems Bishops kill close up by virtue of their long reach. They get close and poison or stab between the ribs those who thought they were friends. After their fiendish acts, they wrap themselves in their cloaks, and slink off feigning shock and innocence over the ghastly murders.

Out on the edge of the field are the Rooks. They look like simpletons until they have a foe in their sights and they unleash their destructive power raining down death and destruction from far away and up close. Defending possibly many acres of territory, able to traverse the country side carrying their own protection with them, they are much feared by the opposing armies, as well they should be.

The King of course is very powerful in his own right. Young and strong, , directing his armies, and managing to a large extent his own safety. No member of the opposing army wants to get close to the King without some protection from other members of their own army. The King once he decides where his encampment generally does not like to break camp and travel to a new location. There are too many risks for the King to move across the country early in the battle. Plus it does not look Kingly fleeing across the board.

The Queen is the most powerful piece though it was not always so. Through her cunning and ruthlessness, even the King gives the Queen more than a little respect. With all the power and protection of a Rook, the long arms of a Bishop, and her ear on the gossip channel, the Queen is a formidable enemy most do not want to have the unfortunate pleasure of facing. The Queen’s weakness of course is she is female, and liable to be struck down by a lowly foot soldier if she does not watch her step.

Chess as it is played is also very dynamic. The soldiers take on different roles as the game progresses. They start out scanning the fields looking for the enemy, working as sappers, and snipers, picking away at soldiers who dallied around instead of forming strong defenses with their compatriots.

In the middle game, the blood flows freely. Pieces and foot solders hack, slash, and cry out in pain. Some soldiers on the board are trapped and/or tortured, others are cut down so swiftly they do not even have time to realize they are dying.

Later still, in the end game, the remaining Soldiers become wild dogs, chasing the scent of spilled blood. The few pieces that remain standing at the battles end, work together to hunt down the enemy King, and give him the death he deserves for making their life so miserable.

Occasionally, a foot soldier, a simple pawn, survives the bloodshed and makes it to the far end of the board. For that lowly peasant, the power and riches of the Kingdom await him. With that final step he can ask to be changed into any piece in the battle! Instantly his wishes are granted. Behold his wrath as he is transformed from a nothing, and given the power of a Queen! The enemy King shudders at the sight, knowing his end has come much closer.

At the lowest levels of play, the battles are horrid, slashing, spearing, and hacking. Resembling a rabid pack of wild dogs, hot on the scent of fresh blood, only dimly mindful there is victory and treasure if they win the battle.

On the highest levels of play, chess battles take on a unique form, almost a dance. Perhaps a choreographed ballet, where the battle is not only be fought with precision and maximum effect; the battle can also be visually stunning, carefully crafted to give the look of simplicity. For of course the spectators looking on from the sidelines might imagine their games look as good, and one day they too will rule battlefields around the world.

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Don’t judge a book by its cover

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I was thinking about the American Viet Nam war and some of the people I knew that took part in it. I do not know if they were heroes while taking part, but I do know they are people forever changed.

One, a young man who went by the name Sailor. Sailor graduated in time for the 1967 Tet Offensive, one of the heaviest fought ground campaigns in the Viet Nam war. I wish I could add more to the story about Sailor other than he graduated, joined up and was killed less than six months later. He was a high school hero to me, but I was not a part of his life. Four other young men from my area joined Sailor over the next year.

Another man I met went by the name Skip. I never knew his real name. Skip had been a Navy Seal, and had seen some serious action during his tour. Skip was a big guy – about six feet tall and well muscled. Skip came back, and married his high school sweetheart a year later. they were deeply in love. Skip had a problem, and his wife suffered terribly for it. Skip suffered from war nightmares. In the six months I knew Skip and his wife, he almost choked her to death three different times – all in his sleep. Their marriage became too dangerous for Skip’s wife, and three close calls were more than enough. When a fourth nightmare happened, Skip was crushing his wife’s throat, and knocked a few teeth out before waking. Their marriage was officially over even though they were still in love with each other.

I drank beer at night with a guy named Bill for a week or so in Colorado. Bill was a wandering transient who could not come to terms with his part of the war. Bill had been a medic in Viet Nam. Medics were sent into direct fire to help care for and remove wounded men. Bill had saved some men during his tour, but many others were left dying as they moaned their lives away as he tried to help. Bill told me he tried to remain a human being do the right thing when he was in Viet Nam. One day Bill received permission to vaccinate a small village of people for local diseases. When Bill came through the village again five day later, all the villagers had had their right arms chopped off. It was punishment for accepting American aid. That was one sight too many for Bill

Then there is Virgil. Virgil was in Viet Nam to assist and help the Vietnamese protect their own people. Besides the normal fighting and killing, Virgil watched a close friend be blown up by a grenade as he picked up a little girl that wandered in out of the jungle and set her on his lap. She had been booby trapped. For years afterwards Virgil was an angry man. He argued with everyone and nothing but solitude and distance from people kept him out of fights.

A few of these men I admired and called friends. Some of them I disliked at times, but not as much as they dislike themselves. All of them hold a place in my heart and memories, and I think about them from time to time. I do not know if any of them ever earned the right to be called ‘Hero’. These men and other men like them deserve respect and remembrance for the sacrifices they made and the problems they live with. They all tried to do what they thought was the most important and correct action at the time.

I know recent returning warriors have their own nightmares and some of them will never be the young men that left to do what they thought was the right thing to do. When you meet these men, and perhaps women too, and they appear as accidents looking for places to happen, keep in mind, that sometime you can not judge a book by its cover.

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George S Patton, American hero and troubled man

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I watched the movie Patton starring George C. Scott today. George C Scott takes on the role of General George S. Patton and makes it very believable. This is not the first time I have watched the movie which came out in 1970 and I doubt it will be the last time I watch this movie. The movie revolves around General George S Patton and his remarkable achievements during World War II as a predominant commanding general of American allied participation during the war.

Of course most of my uncles were veterans of either World War II or the Korean war and opinion usually flowed freely about WWII field commanders and who was the best. Of course as it turned out, all the men present served under different commanders. Naturally each man thought his commander was the best of the bunch and the others were second rate wanna be’s. This conflict is present in the movie also. The Allied forces had some pretty large ego’s involved in their efforts and those ego’s come through pretty well.

The reason I bring up the movie is because of the feelings that Patton invoked in his time and the feelings the movie invokes. Patton is portrayed as a troubled hero who has no political savvy in a time when the world was changing. Patton is portrayed as a hero and and a man in the the movie. General Patton also lived and breathed war. Per the movie he believes he has lived many life times and fought in most great recorded battles found across Europe.

The movie portrays General George S. Patton as a hero who has his faults. General Patton as the movie portrays him is only a hero in his realm which is war. When General Patton is not in the feild commanding his army, his lack of political skill brings him trouble. He is shown as having problems with everyone from Presidents to fellow generals and enlisted men. General Patton on the field with his army was in his element and his men did not have any love for him, respected him, and did what many considered impossible for him.

Which brings me to the idea of a hero such as General Patton. The man is brilliant, talented, and a master at his craft which was war. What General Patton accomplished was heroism at its finest by America and its allies. General patton did what had to be done, and he did it as well or better than most other men alive. There may be some argument between the men of this caliber who marshaled WWII as to who was the best of the best, but none of them were there for reasons other than they earned the right to be there.

Any job is open to anyone who is willing to do it. For example, everyone has the opportunity to arrive at whatever station their personal drive propels them too. It is all a matter of how hard one is willing to work and how much one is willing to sacrifice for some elusive ever changing goal.

Unfortunately the more prestigious the position, or the more weight it carries, there are fewer possibilities that any one individual will hold such a position. For every one that makes it to that lofty perch, there are hundreds if not thousands who do not. For every General Pattton there are hundreds of thousands of foot soldiers. Individuals such as General Patton did not fall into their positions. They spent their lifetime getting ready for a chance at these positions.

We all have the opportunity to become bigger than life if we want it. For most of us the drive to make the sacrifices needed just for the opportunity are too great and it is a road most of choose not to go down. For those that do, they sacrifice most of everything we consider a normal part of day to day living.

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Flu shots, one hero, and sheer terror

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As I stood in line for my flu shot today, I remembered an uncle who passed away several years ago. He had participated in WWII as a belly gunner in a bomber aircraft. He flew and landed at least three planes by himself, because his crew had been killed from either flak exploding around their plane, or fighter aircraft machine gun fire. He used to tell me in some detail how they cleaned out the plane, including draining the blood from the bodies that had pooled in the lower sections of the plane’s belly. Unfortunately for him, he saw a lot of death, and carnage during his time in the war.

My uncle had a funny secret, he was terrified of needles! He never submitted to a shot after his military service for over twenty-five years. I went with him to the doctor that day because he needed something that could only be given through a needle. When he saw the needle, he suddenly slumped and started sliding to the floor. He had passed out from fear! He had told me he was scared of needles, but I never believed him until then. A grown man, war survivor and hero, passing out from the sight of a needle, what a funny sight!

What a funny way to remember someone, and not very flattering to say the least. Every time I find myself in a flu shot line, or giving blood, I have the same humorous memory of my uncle slowly sinking to the floor. Only in my memory he is wearing his military uniform with his medals pinned on his chest that he never showed anyone while he was alive.

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