Finished up? or just finished?

Only the rifles, my food and I are not in the Caravan, the other stuff is. Targets, ammunition, t-shirts, study material, markers, pens, staplers, staples, books, water (and it will rain most of Saturday somewhere). Sunday might be sunny.

As I prepared for this and the other Appleseeds I looked at the long list of the ones I have helped with or attended for a day, and wonder where some of these other RWVA folks are? Wheeler44, RL. OLDGEEZER,. Ducko, Fredness, - shucks I am still trying to figure out where Joe went with IIT hat he took from me only three weekends ago. Not a peep from that new guy.

I guess, like any volunteer organization - churches, Boy Scouts at the very local level - they just keep the volunteers as long as the volunteers volunteer. On April 19th, 1775 - three or more things happened.

The militia was called out, Captain Isaac Davis marched away from his home and family when there were thirty of his Minutemen assembled. Marched off with certainty, courage and resolve to defend all he believed in and to lead from the front. He died suddenly at North Bridge, and remembered ever after by the statue with the hat and the plow beside his feet.

James Nichols, born in England but immigrated to Lincoln, fell in with the militia but was not eager to confront the Regulars, getting someone to hold his musket he went down to talk to the soldiers at the North Bridge. After a brief talk he returned, secured his musket and declared he was going back home. Which he did - a volunteer organization and nothing to defend nor attack that threatened James Niclols.

The third thing that happened was not realizing the Regulars were out at all. No Paul Revere nor other rider came calling in the dark. So the town of Waltham woke to normal Wednesday chores, work and thoughts - feed the family, animals, clean the area, plow, seed, and whatever else one would do in a New England Spring day. There was plenty to do without watching FoxNews or MSNBC. 

I was once the Division NCO of the year, and was flown back to the United States with the Division Commander, Command Sergeant Major and the Soldier of the Year. To the 1st Armored Division annual reunion of those that served in WWII. Around 1980, wonderful stories good men and nice families that supported their get-togethers. But they having served, and having come home and grown older, and older, have continued to pass on to more glory, and pass on the traditions to the younger folks.

Not only the RWVA, but perhaps the ideal of America, the America of the middle of the last century has to find again those volunteers to return it to its potential. Does seem like too many just reclining on the couch.

So after mid week church....

I come home to read "Death in the Long Grass", and when finally my eyes are hardy open, and my wife slips me my glass of onion wine (medicinal purposes only). I slip the Planet Earth DVD into the player, on the Great Plains - grass and all that eats such. And add a glass of some iced whiskey to the mix. Great nite.

Forgotten wars... or at least lessons never learned...

In the Revolutionary War Veterans Association are tales of repeated conflicts between England and France - and since they have been going on since the time Duke William (which is different than his name and title in French) the Conqueror. How to become King in one not so easy lesson...

Today seems to be a memorial day for the invasion of the Republic of Korea by its nasty Communist brother to the North. 25 June, 1950. As the Korean Cable retells the tale, and different people and their lives affected by the event. Interesting... but I was too young.

It did get me to thinking about wars and campaigns missed - but also how many places that faded completely into the darkness as we concentrate on Our Time.  And we seem to think that this time it will be different. I heard the domino theory tossed around yesterday - like it wasn't true that Laos and Cambodia fell to communism as soon as Vietnam fell to the armored divisions of the North. Everyone knows... nothing.

As I sit here, sipping coffee and awaiting...

 Tuesday, seems like Monday just slipslided away... I did mow the lawn, chopped composting matter, I did do a coffee stop with Hal from about early dark thirty til 8:30 AM, saying Hello to old Methodist Men of the old Spanaway United Methodist Church. We had about three and a half hours of no takers on free coffee, then people started waking up and came by for regular. I took some power naps through the day - sleeping to Le Mis? Then my wife came back from clamming and my day returned to real. I read, posted the Course of Instruction for the Custer, Washington Appleseed this coming weekend. Twenty-one shooters. Hope I can get them all on the same range. Good crew called in. Went to bed at ten thirty and slept until eight. Now I should be ready to re-insert into the Matrix of my life. 

Off to the YMCA, stop at the public library to download my three new kindle books. Then massive sweating, stop twice for my wife to connect and then back home to trim up the yard, pack up the Appleseed stuff for loading out, clean the firearms for packing out. This week is short by design, and check and pay some bills. Stephen Hunter wrote something in American Rifleman, and has another book out. I am still happy Bobby Lee has gotten older but still deadly. I comprehend the older so well. Half my cup of coffee is gone so it must be about time for me, too. I took an interesting test on Facebook, Ghent University's. Vocabulary Test on English, I should have asked what Ghent would ever know about English - but I hadn't caught that when whizzing through it, only about four minutes. I ended up with 87%, and that is 90% correct minus one word I thought was real. They do give you results and definitions for what you didn't get, and the test can be taken over and you won't have the same words - I was impressed. But then it isn't a real Facebook fooled you test with ten questions. This was very good. Cup is eighty percent empty, must be about time to move out.

There and back again... or another Appleseed bites the dust...

  I signed up to instruct at an Appleseed in Idaho, which is just down the road - I have been to CdA and Lewiston before, I have even been to Boomershoot. But this Appleseed was in Nampa and I hadn't been there and wanted to see the range and the other RWVA folks - it was on a Friday Saturday schedule, so my time for church would be open. Then I left on Thursday morning, and found out my GPS wanted me to cross a lot of Washington State, turn towards Oregon and then cross a lot of Oregon, before I would get to Idaho and Nampa. Long trip, then they throw Mountain time zone at me, too. I would never recover.

  I was glad that I found the range, that Mike was already there and I could park and stop driving. I got out a folding chair and sat down and spent the evening talking to Mike after looking at the way he built a fence for his target backers. He says it is relatively cheap, I would have painted the political signs two different colors, but it was all pretty effective. I slept in my van.

  Up with the moon and the Sun and we went off to breakfast and meet the Shoot Boss Tim and his wife, Pat, another RWVA instructor, they are migrants from California, if they stay they become California ex-patriots. Just kidding, I am always surprised anyone is still living in California. I got my oatmeal and raisins, and coffee. Talk about the day and what they have been doing and are going to do. Then back to the range. Finish setting up and Pat takes in-processing. We have nine shooters, three parent child teams and many camera shy. Still the day is gentle, and slower than I am used to. Since I am there to help and look for other ways to make an Appleseed work, I am watching closely. Only one sighting square target, then lunch, and then two Red Coats side by side, very much like I once did using the Green Coat targets. I had discussed my use of an AQT instead.

  The only AQT target was used to present the sitting and Standing positions, steady hold factors and the transitions - it was not timed nor scored. After that the only Red Coat of the day, and then the Third Strike of the Match and the benediction.  Clean up and pack up and I would spend several more hours thinking I should get my rifles out and shoot - but instead I just talked to Mike. Then I turned in, although the pace and instruction seemed slower and gentle I was beat.

  Woke for second day, washed and shaved, and thought I really should have a load list for my travels. Mike remarked that he had also thought we should have shot some targets last evening - as he sat there and talked the night in. Breakfast again, I got a farmers platter over easy and lots of coffee. Only eight shooters were still there when we opened the range. Review was quick, the shooters still lacked confidence in their answers, to my mind. Their shooting skills hadn't improved, but they showed promise in the Red Coat target and the only sighting square of the day. Shoot an AQT with a walk down to see the target engagement after each stage and talk targets and techniques with each shooter.

  Lunch with Dangerous Old Men stories, shoot the ball and dummy drill, then two AQTs at speed and I was finished. I had jumped upon a shooter that was just walking beyond the firing line with three shooters with rifles and magazines in preparation period on their mats. She was going to post her AQT target thinking of NOT. I used my PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO ME voice, which is startling, to frightening. And had unkindly reminded her that she hadn't been told by me the LINE BOSS to move across the firing line, and I hadn't cleared the line and NO ONE should be talking while I was talking as LINE BOSS (that last was for the few that had kept right on talking while I got her attention and back to the equipment line). I had the shooters in prep safe their rifles and go back to the equipment line, the RSOs to clear the line, then I sent the young woman down to post her AQT target so she could shoot it.

  I called the AQT course of fire for all four stages, told Mike he was now going to be Line Boss and to take over I was on my way home - a long drive to Spanaway, Washington. Said good -bye to Pat, told her I was sorry about shouting at the shooter, and I hoped it would not affect her the remainder of her day. Shook hands and said good-bye to the Shoot Boss and left one rug, one folding chair and a memory of me that will last beyond my name. It is a beautiful range with a wonderful history they proudly share with tourists. I was also sure I had left an M1 Rifle Appleseed cap at the diner during breakfast on day two.

  I made fuel stops and short rest stops and was home by ten in the evening, Pacific Daylight Savings - being the longest day of the year, I used every bit of it. Although I wore two sets of sunglasses and the visor down to keep the setting sun from burning my eye balls blind. Unload, glass of wine, hot shower and sleep, deep sleep of the exhausted. I will always wish I hadn't had to turn tyrant on the shooter with no regard for her own safety. But that was only one of several instances that I thought wouldn't have happened on most Appleseeds done at the normal pace and unfeeling professional instead of personable professional that projected kind and caring... I thought two shooters weren't getting as far as they could have with a different tact. Maybe next time, it will click. Everything except Known Distance and carding the sights was taught and covered, so they have it all. Hope I see them again somewhere on the trail.

Fledgling flights...

Every year swifts nest under a front eave, having at least two fluffy mouths to feed. Which is good to hold the bug population down as their parents fly trying to get them fed. But sooner than later the fluff is picked off and kicked out, and real feathers show. Then the fledglings come out and stand on the edge of the roof asking for food, and somewhere along that time the parents have had it and do demonstration flights and aerial dances to get the young'ns to follow, or just flutter. Then I start to laugh, for the young'ns will fall off the edge and flutter and flop to the ground, and then flutter harder and fly, kind of, back to the safety of the roof.

But they really aren't flying yet, except they are moving through the air. They are stumbling around like a drunken sailor or that almost toddler in diapers, no control over wings and four forces of flight - shucks they can't count that high yet. Too early, too soon, they will have to get much better before they can catch food in flight, much. Still, they do strengthen, smooth out their landings, learn how to make quick twists in flight. Now if the neighbors cat doesn't creep up on them they might make it.

I finished The Boys in the Boat,


                           
Great read, more for me because I row to nowhere in the YMCA, but mostly for the perspective of the people living in the depression, and just hard life, and what was needed to beat the Supermen of Germany on their home waters in 1936. Very interesting.

So after watching Munich last evening I stuck Seabiscuit in to the DVD player and watched the story unfold, again - how against the odds, good sense - the best won. But only because they believed and worked hard. Don't really see that lesson on the media now.

Just like the fledglings, flap those wings furiously until they tire and you get efficient. Then learn to soar.

Back to me, since I can't control the borders... or the boarders.

Repel all boarders! Avast, me hearties,    .....where is Long John Silver when one needs him?

I wake to the whine of NPR, didn't hit the correct buttons on the radio last night - no telling what subliminal messages I have to ignore the remainder of the day. Saturday, after five days of good hardly a workout at the YMCA, I feel like a break is due. No, I will go later and sweat, I am so old and fat and falling totally into pieces. I must go. But I should have fun along my way, the lawn needs trimmed today, I have at least one rifle to shoot and I want to try that 100 yard KD AQT. I do believe in hands on experience - theory is fine to start the mental images, but I read way to much fantasy and fiction to not know I need to have done it badly at least.

I got a green laser to mount on my dummy rifle for training, actually I received two, one puts out a multi-point pattern (?) and the other a very nice dot. The dot is the one I will work to make happen. Then the red laser goes to back up utility. I don't have cats to chase the dot around, maybe I could distract the neighbor's cat?

I have a computer cave that needs more organization, and I need to quit drinking so much brandy.... no, I don't drink that much (first step in knowing there is a problem is the denial?). So I pack the YMCA bag, pick up one rifle - one, NO,
not two, I will take two to Idaho, just in case. But then I don't have to take all the Appleseed gear, just my support my shooting gear. Hooded sweatshirt today, it is in the fifties and rainsome and somewhere. Top of Mount Rainier is covered.

So, since you did stop by to look, have a wonderful weekend, Army birthday, Flag day, and Father's Day on Sunday. Go shooting, safely and well.  The church is having a Golf Tournament this morning, seventy-five dollars - I told the Pastor that I could get a spot on the range much cheaper and would have more fun, but he always looks at me funny when I mention shooting. My son might be golfing, it would look good on him - he isn't a total klutz. How do I know the sport isn't for Earl? Well, if a ball is used that is where I can sit and watch. I would play rugby (when I was much younger) but never handle the ball, except to pass it back to someone that wouldn't drop it.