761st Tank Battalion: "The Black Panthers"

African-Americans have contributed greatly to the history of the US military despite great obstacles and setbacks they managed to carve their way into history. Based on his personal experiences during WWI, Col. James A. Moss, Commander of the 367^th Infantry Regiment, 92^nd Division said, “As fighting troops, the Negro must be rated as second-class material, this primarily to his inferior intelligence and lack of mental and moral qualities.” Col. Perry L. Miles, Commander of the 371^th Infantry Regiment, 93rd Division said something very similar: “In a future war, the main use of the Negro should be in labor organizations.” And General George S. Patton, Jr. in a letter written to his wife wrote her and said, “a colored Soldier cannot think fast enough to fight in armor.” So from the time these and men like them enlisted to fight for a country that was still suppressing them, they would soon find themselves fighting on two separate fronts, home and soon in Europe.

 

As with many within the services fought against African-Americans serving, one General was a pioneer and saw what allowing them to fight could do for the country and the military as a whole. That Officer was Lieutenant General Leslie J. McNair, who was serving as the chief of the U.S. Army ground forces. His voice became the major proponent in support of African Americans serving within the armored corps. He believed that as a nation we could not afford to exclude African Americans as he viewed them as an important source of manpower. The black press, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, and the Congress of Racial Equality also placed increasing pressure on the War Department and President Franklin D. Roosevelt's administration to allow black soldiers to serve on an equal footing with white soldiers.

The 761st Tank Battalion was an independent tank battalion of the United States Army during World War II. The 761st was made up primarily of African-American soldiers, who by federal law were not permitted to serve alongside white troops; the military did not officially desegregate until after World War II. They were known as the Black Panthers after their unit's distinctive insignia; their motto was "Come out fighting". The battalion received a Presidential Unit Citation for its actions. In addition, a large number of individual members also earned awards, including one Medal of Honor and 11 Silver Stars.

Before and during World War II, American military leaders had reservations about using African American soldiers in combat. General Lesley J. McNair, the commander of Army Ground Forces, successfully argued that "colored" units should be employed in combat. At McNair's suggestion, the US Army began to experiment with segregated combat units in 1941; the program was supported by, and given national exposure in, Life magazine. The 761st was constituted on 15 March 1942, and activated 1 April 1942, at Camp Claiborne, Louisiana. The battalion began training in M5 Stuart light tanks. They learned how to maneuver, mount, dismount, and maintain the vehicle's 37 mm main gun and .30 caliber machine guns. Final training was at Fort Hood, Texas, where they were upgraded to the M4 Sherman medium tank, which had a 75 mm main gun, two .30 caliber machine guns, a .50 caliber machine gun, and a two-inch smoke mortar.

Most of the black tankers had to train in bases located in deep Southern states such as Kentucky, Louisiana, and Texas. In the days before the civil rights advances made in the 1960s, black people were still treated harshly in the South and often considered an inferior race. The men of the 761st trained for almost two years, conscious of the fact that white units were being sent overseas after as little as two or three months.

 

There were many acts of racism, including murder, against all the black battalions by soldiers from nearby Camp Polk and Camp Livingston who visited Alexandria, Louisiana on weekend leave. In March 1943, several members of the unit were severely beaten and one was killed and found dead on the train tracks in Alexandria. Several members of the 761st vowed to retaliate. They commandeered six tanks and a half-track but were persuaded by Lieutenant Colonel Bates who promised to straighten the situation out.

The most famous member of the 761st was First Lieutenant Jack Robinson. During the 761st's training, a white bus driver told Robinson to move to the back of the bus, and Robinson refused. Although his battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Paul L. Bates, refused to consider the court-martial charges put forward by the arresting military policemen, the base commander transferred Robinson to the 758th Tank Battalion, whose commander was willing to sign the insubordination court-martial order. Robinson was eventually acquitted of all charges, though he never saw combat. After the war he was instrumental in desegregating professional baseball.

As the 761st was about to enter combat, Patton reviewed the battalion and made a speech to the men which offered a guarded vote of confidence in their abilities:

“Men, you're the first Negro tankers to ever fight in the American Army. I would never have asked for you if you weren't good. I have nothing but the best in my Army. I don't care what color you are as long as you go up there and kill those Kraut sonsofbitches. Everyone has their eyes on you and is expecting great things from you. Most of all your race is looking forward to your success. Don't let them down and damn you, don't let me down! They say it is patriotic to die for your country. Well, let’s see how many patriots we can make out of those German sonsofbitches.”

However, like most American military officers of the era, Patton expressed his doubts about using black men in combat. On returning to headquarters following the review, he remarked, "They gave a good first impression, but I have no faith in the inherent fighting ability of the race." He only put this sentiment aside and accepted the 761st when he desperately needed all the ground power he could get. Even after the war, Patton was not inclined to reform his perception of black soldiers. In War As I Knew It, he relates the interaction described above, and comments, "Individually they were good soldiers, but I expressed my belief at the time, and have never found the necessity of changing it, that a colored soldier cannot think fast enough to fight in armor."

Tank commander Sergeant Warren G. H. Crecy came to the aid of his men on 10 November 1944, and fought through enemy positions until his tank was destroyed. He eliminated an enemy position that had knocked out his tank by commandeering a vehicle armed with only a .30-caliber machine gun. He then eliminated the German forward observers who were directing artillery fire on the US positions.

After manning a replacement tank, Crecy's new vehicle lost traction in heavy mud and he was forced to exit the tank under fierce machine gun, antitank, and artillery fire to free the tracks. When attacked by German infantry, he had to abandon his salvage efforts to man the .50-caliber machine gun, effectively holding off the advancing enemy, then forcing them to withdraw.

Described as a baby-faced, "quiet, easy-going, meek-looking fellow", Crecy had destroyed an antitank position and a number of German machine gun positions armed only with a machine gun and without regard for his personal safety, under heavy fire. His men reportedly experienced difficulty getting the machine gun away from him after the action.

Crecy was nominated for the Medal of Honor and received a battlefield commission, eventually retiring with the rank of major. His heroic actions earned him the title "Baddest Man in the 761st" from his comrades.

 

While serving with Company A of the 761st, the Medal of Honor was awarded posthumously to Staff Sergeant Ruben Rivers in 1997.

His Official Citation read:

“For extraordinary heroism in action during the 15–19 November 1944, toward Guebling, France. Though severely wounded in the leg, Sergeant Rivers refused medical treatment and evacuation, took command of another tank, and advanced with his company in Guebling the next day. Repeatedly refusing evacuation, Sergeant Rivers continued to direct his tank's fire at enemy positions through the morning of 19 November 1944. At dawn, Company A's tanks began to advance towards Bougaktroff [sic, correct name is Bourgaltroff], but were stopped by enemy fire. Sergeant Rivers, joined by another tank, opened fire on the enemy tanks, covering company A as they withdrew. While doing so, Sergeant River's tank was hit, killing him and wounding the crew. Staff Sergeant Rivers' fighting spirit and daring leadership were an inspiration to his unit and exemplify the highest traditions of military service.”

The battalion first saw combat on 7 November 1944, fighting through towns such as Moyenvic, Vic-sur-Seille and Morville-lès-Vic, often at the leading edge of the advance. The unit endured 183 days of continuous operational employment.

In November 1944 the unit had suffered 156 casualties; 24 men killed, 88 wounded, and 44 non-battle. The unit also lost 14 tanks and another 20 damaged in combat. In December, the battalion was rushed to the aid of the 101st Airborne Division at Bastogne. From December 31, 1944, to February 2, 1945, the 761st took part in the American counteroffensive following the Battle of the Bulge. In a major battle at Tillet, Belgium, the 761st operated for two continuous days against German panzer and infantry units, who withdrew in the face of the Black Panthers' attack. The operations of the 761st in the Bulge split the enemy lines at three points–the HouffalizeBastogne road, the St. VithBastogne highway, and the St. VithTrier road–preventing the resupply of German forces encircling American troops at Bastogne.

After the Battle of the Bulge, the unit opened the way for the U.S. 4th Armored Division into Germany during an action that breached the Siegfried Line. During this time the 761st captured seven German towns, more than 400 vehicles, 80 heavy weapons, 200 horses and thousands of small arms. During that three-day period, the battalion inflicted more than 4,000 casualties on the German army and it was later realized that the 761st had fought against units belonging to at least 14 German divisions. In the final days of the war in Europe, the 761st was one of the first American units to reach the Steyr in Austria, at the Enns River, where they met with Ukrainians of the Soviet Army.

A documentary, which was touted as historically accurate, claimed that the 761st Tank Battalion, attached to the 71st Division, liberated one of the Nazi concentration camps, Dachau. Veterans who participated in the liberation of these camps deny that the soldiers of the 761st Tank Battalion were there, and the US Army does not recognize the 761st as liberators of any of the Nazi camps. Many attest this to the mindset of the times; though they were fighting to help free the Jews from racism and discrimination, much like they experienced back home. These men still executed their missions in Europe where not only were they in danger of the Nazis but some of their fellow Americans who felt they had no right or business to be there themselves.               

The 761st was deactivated 1 June 1946 in Germany. But throughout their participation they more than lived up to their motto, “Come Out Fighting.”

  

A Good Life

As I drove home from my weekend in Atlanta with some old college and high school buddies I had plenty of time to do a lil self-reflection during said drive. I wished more of our old crew could have been there but it was good to see those that could make it. As I drove I realized just how hard I have worked to get where I am today as well as how God has blessed me and assisted me over those years. I have a lot to be grateful for and not a day goes by that I’m not. I got to see some people this past weekend that I haven’t seen since the mid 90’s and I’m proud of them and what they all have accomplished since then. I wondered how in the hell did all of us get here when so many others do not and or blame the system for their misfortune. I mean none of us were rich; none of us had it made. All of us had to make hard decisions about our lives and then execute based on what we thought was gonna help us to be successful. And in doing so here we all were…successful in our own right. It made me think back to other friends and how they must be doing and if they saw their lives and being successful or rich as I was.  Many times we focus on what we don’t have vs what we do have or what’s right in front of us.

I did something this past weekend which started out as a small joke but turned into a brief lesson and a new found appreciation for some work that some do that’s not all too easy. One of the young girls that works with my wife allowed me to take care of her “roots.” Now she’s pretty tough but even braver for allowing me to do this. As we got the bleach ready smiles and a few jokes started flying about what was gonna happen. But soon I was on my way to tackling her roots and I received plenty of tips and feedback about what I was doing and needed to do. Everyone was supportive and helpful in their own comedic way. I think they got a kick out of it because I was attempting to do something well within their wheel houses and I’m sure they would love for some of their clients to take a stroll in their shoes (as I was doing) some days when they are being demanding and bitchy.  About mid-way through I was like, “shit…they make this look way too easy.”  I have watched my wife and many of her co-workers do this countless times but I really had no idea how hard it was. Smooth is fast and fast is smooth is something we say in the military when we discuss weapons training and movement but this methodology can be used when doing hair if you didn’t know. And I was neither being smooth nor fast. And when it was all said and done I was a lil tired and I realized just how much they all work five days a week. I didn’t say anything at the time but I was given a small taste of what they do and it was enough to be humbled. So the next time you get your haircut, foiled, colored, roots thank them because it’s not easy…not easy at all.

Five years ago today I was in Korea and preparing to come home and walking into a divorce. At the time I thought my world was ending and that the plans that were created had to now be scrapped. I literally had no idea what I was gonna do, live or how I was gonna survive. One thing I did have was faith that God was gonna be there and that the road ahead was not gonna be smooth. It was not smooth nor was it bumpy. One could easily say there wasn’t a road and I had no choice but to create one which is no easy task. Fast forward five years later and here I sit with a cup of coffee and a smile on my face. I’m married to a beautiful woman, ALL my kids are doing well in school and in personal ventures, and I have great friends (near and far) and a very loving and supportive family. Something you surely need when times get tough. There were tons of others that helped me through this time lending me an ear or other things when it was called for it which allowed me to grow and find the mindset I needed to move forward and be successful. One such person has since passed on but her impact on me is ever lasting and she will never be forgotten…never.

As I made that drive up from Atlanta and continued on with my reflections I read a message from a friend of mine who has decided to retire. I was contacted by this old friend and he was telling me his story and the decisions that were made that will surely enhance his future. As I sat and listened to him talk I was reminded that you are never as unique as you may think in regards to certain problems you may face. As I listened to my man’s frank and honest story I was proud of him and that he felt he could talk to me in the manner in which he did. No shame, no guilt…just telling it like it is. There are a few of my friends that I can always count on to do this.

One such individual has moved me so much over the years that Thursday night I saw a car broken down on the side of the road and I heard his words in my mind so I stopped and decided to help. Turns out it was a young woman and she had run out of gas just shy of her exit. She had called her mom just prior to me stopping. I had my uniform on so that probably made her a lil bit more comfortable. We talked, and I drove her to get gas, back to her car and waited to make sure it started and she was on her way. She asked what I owed her I said nothing. I have a wife and daughters…and if they ever broke down, I’d hope someone would stop and help them as I just did. She thanked me again and drove off. I smiled and said, yeah “Blackman” would be giving me a high five right now. I laughed and was back on the road.

A few weeks before that I heard from another friend of mine and he just wanted to say how my relationship with my wife has motivated him and his fiancée. We haven’t talked since our days at Polk but it was like old times as we chatted up. His daughters play ball and I enjoy his posts about them and their activities. I’m so proud of him because as a single father many have gotten a bad rap and the negative usual outweighs the good. I had no idea my bit-strip cartoon, photos, and jokes with my wife did anything other than make me smile and think I’m funnier than I probably am. But as we talked he told me that they too are currently doing things long distance and that if I have made it work than he knows they could do it too. I was flattered by his words because I never saw me as doing anything other than being a cornball at times.

I was talking to a buddy a few weeks before my Atlanta trip and asked him how is it we have gotten here and we really didn’t have any “special” resources that one could say gave us a leg up. As we talked at one point he said, “Ding, we kinda all followed you.” Followed me? What the hell. He then went on to explain and when he was done, I understood where he was coming. I’d never looked at it that way. I left college and joined the Army for my own reasons and I never once thought it would affect others. It was humbling to listen to someone I had looked up to talk about me. So you never know how your actions, small or large, affect someone else and their life. I used to always say I wished I had a group of friends like you’ve seen in movies like “The Wood”, “The Best Man” and a few others. Low and behold, I had that all the time; I simply wasn’t always in a position to spend time with them. So here I sit blessed with good fortune and good friends.

I’m grateful all God has given me and those I love and choose to call friend. Because you know what…I have a pretty good life not matter how you look at it and I’m rich with things not many have…a good life.

Gene Wars

This morning I was doing some reading and thought to myself, people, in general will never shock and or surprise me by their behaviors. Sometimes it maybe expected or unexpected but never a dull moment nor a surprise. I guess you could say it’s more of a “shake my damn head” moment. Makes you wonder, just what is it that makes people do the things they do? Were not even gonna talk about what they say. But I have learned…no come to understand that as we grow older we sometimes loose little pieces of who we are and what we once wanted to be and in doing so, we slowly leave childhood and into adulthood. And with each passing day that we move towards adulthood, for some, those lil pieces of you slowly disappear and are replaced by something else; let’s call them the “NY” gene.

            So as you get older, the NY gene starts to fill your cells and override the old genes (OU) that help make up just who you are or who you envisioned you’d become once you’d grown up. So day in and day out the NY gene slowly wages a war. Not a battle but a War. One that will last for years and is fought on a day to day basis, a war of attrition let’s call it. Some days the OUs win a battle here but just as soon as that battle is fought and won…another wages and the NY gene soon there after fights and ultimately destroys the “OU” gene. Battles, skirmishes you name it…they fight it. Day by day, year by year this war rages on.

            Now…your OU genes need a lil help fighting as any Soldier does and it usually comes in the form of the “MF” and “FDS” genes. They too are apart of your life and they do their best to assist the OUs in their fight against the NYs. Now, not to be out done by the OUs, the NYs seek help from some genes (more like terrorists if you ask me) too. “FF”, “BTN”, “ALC” are a few and they all ways come to the aid of the NYs and they do so with a ferocity that sometimes goes unmatched by the OUs team. So as you grow older the NYs usually when more battles than the OUs. Now, this isn’t to say that it happens to everyone but for the majority as they travel towards adulthood…the NYs usually win the war. Some however…manage to keep the war going in their case, that journey is a beautiful one; filled with ups (provided by the OUs) and downs (provided by the NYs) with everyday being a new adventure. A day one might say is worth fighting for.

            NYs corrupt your body and cause you to become and do things that the OUs wouldn’t. You become things that some may envy while others dislike. The NYs are in charge and they are doing a great job. Some people acknowledge the power the NYs bring to their lives and they relish in it. Thrive on it. It becomes who they are as well as fuels them, propelling them into an almost certain future that they themselves believe is one of their choosing but truth be told…it all the NYs.

            For some you can clearly see when the NY gene took over. While in others, you can still see that the war rages on. Those OUs haven’t given up and are still fighting every single day. Few possess OUs that are just to darn stubborn or proud to quit. I believe that your upbringing and the immediate world around you has a large play in which genes will win. The people, places and things that surround you all help or hurt your journey into adulthood. Thus positive or negative, they are helping your internal war.

            Over the years I have lost some good friends to the gene war. I have watched them become shells of what they used to be. And it’s a shame to watch that change take place. Because truthfully there is nothing you can do about it as you have a war within you that you too must fight. And helping someone with their war can sometimes help you with yours. Or it can help you to loose yours. No one wishes that one day they would wake up and be where they are (truth be told some do). But once your there, it’s never too late to come to the aid of the OUs. Actually it’s never too late to help them fight and win. But when waging a war, at some point you will have to seek some help from some genes that you maybe to prideful or reluctant to accept assistance from; those being “TP”, “TF” & “G” genes. These are by far the strongest allies you could ask for and in the right doses…they can counter act anything that the NYs throw at you. Problem is these genes and their help don’t come cheap. They are costly and can damn well cost you your soul. But it’s worth giving your soul to anyone of these genes. Because once you have them helping you, you are almost certain to come out the victor. The NYs are in our lives for a reason and you can never truly be rid of them. They are apart of your life and as you grow you produce them and this process can not be stopped. Like ying and yang, you can’t have one without the other. But you can decide who will win the war.

Do You Still Believe? 2010

 Time…it seems so till and I have no idea how long I have been sleeping nor do I hear any noises so…I wonder if he’s gone yet. Or better yet, has he even come? Man this is killing me. I don’t have a clock so I don’t know what time it is and as I raise my head and peer thru the curtains I can see it’s still dark outside. The last thing I want to do is get up and run into him down stairs. That wouldn’t be a good thing. So I grab my covers and pull them over my head and squeeze my eyes tightly, forcing myself back to sleep. My eyes reopen and I have no idea if I have even fallen asleep for 5 minutes or two hours. This is killing me.

 Well, screw it…I’m getting up. I toss the covers back and my footie PJs hit the floor and I make a dash for my sister’s room. Once there I wake her and ask, “You think he’s gone yet?” “I don’t know,” she responds. I stand there and we both look at her doorway for what seems like an eternity. Then we look back at each other…let’s do it.  We head towards the stairs and quietly descend to the first landing. Make the turn and down the final flight of stairs. We both pause and look at each other; gathering our last bit of courage. We hop down the last stair…turn…and stare down the hall towards the living room; the living room, the Christmas tree and focusing our eyes on what’s under the tree. Toys! Toys wrapping around the base of the tree and piled up behind them are more presents. We slowly move towards the living room until we are standing there in total amazement. “Santa Claus came Pam!” I shout in a low whisper. We smile at each other and like a pair of synchronized swimmers we dive into our stuff.

Man, when I think back to all my Christmas’s growing up I can’t help but smile and laugh at the memories that flood into my mind.  Christmas is a magical time of the year for us all and more so if you are a child and your parents allow you to believe in Santa. I say that because some people choose to tell their children that there is no Santa. And you know, that’s fine to each it’s own.  I don’t think those kids will be scared for life because they missed out on what I had. I just think that Santa and the whole Christmas spirit creates a magical time in our lives as kids. I mean take some time and think back…man…wasn’t it great? I mean as we have aged and our responsibilities have grown that magic sometimes gets lost and or misplaced. I mean Christmas isn’t all about Santa and gifts and I learned the meaning of it when I was a child but it didn’t change it for me. And when I think back on my childhood…man it was just so magical. Ole Saint Nick brings you a ton of stuff for free every year. Not just you but every child across the world and in one night no less. The news reports of his sightings on the radio…classic. And how in the hell did he know I didn’t like to brush my hair and that my sister needed to stop mocking people. LOL. That’s the magic…I mean I now know who left those notes but back then…it was like WOW…he knows everything. LOL.

 Fast forward to today. I have four children and only one still believes in Santa. He’s the baby and 10. I feel for him because this is probably the last year Santa will come to him. The reality of Christmas will move to the forefront and that magic will fade. I was about 10 or 11 when I realized there wasn’t a Santa. It didn’t change anything but that magical feeling wasn’t there anymore. It went from magic to reality. I was growing up and it was one step closer to adulthood. It’s funny, I’m 41 years old and I have never asked my parents how they did it. And as I sit here with Christmas just 26 days away…I kinda don’t want to know how my Mom and Dad pulled it off. I don’t want to know where it was all hidden and how my Dad managed to set up all those race tracks every single year. LOL. I guess I still want to hold on to the fantasy of Santo too.

 Being separated creates some challenges for my kids and knowing this is my lil man’s last Christmas, I will probably spend a lil more than I planned and complain a lil more next year but when he’s an adult…I want him and the others to reflect back on Christmas as I did…and simply marvel at the magic of it all because to me, it’s one of the few times in our lives where we are totally innocent and the world is just a magical place to be.

My Dad

Today is my father’s birthday. In the past he would get tons of cheap cologne or some other item he probably didn’t need from me and my sister. Years have passed and I along with my sister are adults and we usually don’t get him things he doesn’t need. Not only is he my father but now he’s blessed with being a Grandfather to not only my children, but my new wife’s as well. As a young man, my father and I at times didn’t see eye to eye on a few subjects. There was even a time period when I felt he over stepped his bounds and I stopped speaking to him for close to 6 months. I guess that attitude he could only blame on himself as that will is where I got it from. LOL. My father wasn’t always there when I felt he should have been but he was there when I needed him to be there. You know what I’m saying? I recall calling him when I was stationed at Carson to tell him my motorcycle had been stolen. I was clearly upset and crying. It wasn’t bad enough I had waited 3 years to be able to buy it but I had allowed the insurance to run out as it was winter and I couldn’t ride it. So as I spoke to my Dad and told him what happened I just knew what he was gonna say in response. He would make me feel even worse than I did already and I honestly had no desire to hear it. That never happened. As we talked I could hear a softness in his voice I hadn’t heard before.

“You got insurance don’t you?”, he asked.

“No Dad, I let it run out since I can’t ride it,” I explained.

“Ok,” he said. “How much do you still owe on it?”

“About 1200,” I sobbed back. And then I thought, here is comes, he’s gonna make this even worse.

“Well, you know you’re responsible for that loan,” he stated.

“Yes”

“Well then that’s your responsibility and you know you have to pay that off.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, well, once it’s paid off…you can simply get you another bike,” he said.

“Ok, but that was my bike Dad!,” as I continued to sob. “I waited so long for it.”

“I know…it’ll be ok. You will get another one.”

Those were the final words of the conversation as we got off the phone. My Dad didn’t make me feel worse…he made me feel better. For the first time in my life that I can remember, my Dad told me what I wanted to hear, not what I needed to hear. And to this day when I think back to that conversation…I get choked up and a lil emotional. What I want you all to understand my father was very tough on me; tough to the point that I hated him at times. And I couldn’t tell you how many times I felt he hurt my feelings and I was upset with him. Parents don’t owe we children and explanation for anything they do and that’s a fact. But as I grew older and eventually left home I started to understand why my father conducted business in the manner in which he did. Tough, fair and sometimes unfair in my eyes but they were all lessons that would eventually shape me into the man I have become today.

When I bought the aforementioned bike I recall my father pulling into the driveway and me looking at him. He had told me if I was man enough to buy it, I was man enough to get out. (My mom had told me I wasn’t going anywhere and to get the bike. LOL) So as he looked at me he made a comment and I replied. Needless to say I didn’t leave and we rode bikes together on numerous occasions. I’m sure he was proud, just never said anything to me about it.

I recall him cutting the TV off to play his records and or cassette tapes. And yeah…I had no choice but to listen or go to bed. But today, many of my fondest memories are centered around classic R&B tunes that take me back to my childhood. Especially James Brown Christmas tunes. And I listen to alot of the old R&B he used to play. My father spent a great deal of his life in service to his country and has never made excuses or blamed anyone for the path he chose. And I admire him for that and he has lived his life on his terms and you got to respect that. I used to say I never wanted to be like my Dad. Something I’m sure many a young man has claimed at some point in their youth. Truth be told, I’m not like my father…he made me BETTER! Better than him all the while I had no idea what was happening. I am and will always be very proud of my Dad and as I have grown older we have grown closer. Anything my Dad has done for me I think back on and smile.

 I recall my father making me a kite for a school project and I was so proud. It looked just like on TV. Save one problem, that damn kite would not fly…at all. LOL. I was so disappointed that I couldn’t get it off the ground. But my Dad made that kite for me…it was special and I will never forget that.

What I want you all to get is that my father wasn’t always there when I felt he should be, but my father was always there. He was always in my life. Whether he was being too rough with me and I’d cry or playing Santa Claus and getting me all the gifts I’d asked for. (It wasn’t until I was grown and in the Army that I realized why my Dad always seemed to have CQ on Christmas Eve.) Sometimes he was corny and sometimes he was cool. But my Dad was my dad and not a day goes by I’m not thankful for all he has done and shown me the past 44 years. So today is his day and I want him to know I love and respect  him as much as any son could love their Dad. Enjoy your day Dad and Happy Birthday.

Some Will Never Learn

It’s been quite awhile since my divorce was finalized. 3 years and 6 months…to the day, but whose counting. I guess I am because as much I try to move on, try to put my past to rest and let go of this…this time period. I can not. I can not because there are three other lives involved. And as long as they are involved…I can not move on I can not be free. As long as my ex-wife, Jennifer (She likes to use Specht on facebook but based on the last few days she uses Dingle and implies a relationship when it suits her) has the ability to use our children as pawns in her unwavering hatred towards me…I simply can not move on. I am trapped, in a limbo of sorts. I can never truly enjoy my time with them because a fight is always a simple phone call. A small accusation on her part against me and my home and life is in an up roar. I then find myself defending or having to defend myself to angry teens about what ever their mother claims I’ve done…yet again. It’s exhausting fighting, and it’s exhausting and hurtful when it’s with the people you love most in the world. Everyone tells you it’ll get better, that when they are older they will understand and see for themselves. But what no one tells you is…how you deal with it now. How you go without contact now. How you don’t get calls or calls returned now. How the hurt of not being able to be there to see your son play football or when he goes to prom. I can go on and on but I think you get my drift. You do know what it’s like to know, that had you been bitter, little and a nasty human being; simply crushed your ex wife when you had the ability to do so…you wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. And that sports fans is what is the hardest to deal with; knowing that all of this could have been avoided had you simply done the wrong thing.

Yesterday was no different. This started back in April when I told my kids about our summer visit. I explained that I was coming at the beginning of the summer and as soon as school was out. The previous year there was some issue with my timing and their extra curricular activities. My plan was simple, get my five weeks up front and get them back so they could spend the rest of their summer with friends and their activities. I was being understanding as well as trying to accommodate all parties involved. Well as it turned out all three didn’t care to come back early but wanted the whole summer; fine with me as long as their mom was cool with it. And so it went summer vacation.

And it has been a great vacation, Florida, visits with family and friends…great time. Earlier this month I tried to get physicals for my son’s. Why couldn’t they have gotten physicals…say back in January or March seeing how they are good for a year and they wouldn’t have to fight the summer crowds. I mean my ex fought me to be the physical custodian and she was granted the position. My kids live with her so seeing how I’m the abusive and irresponsible parent, why would she in trust something so important to my dumbass? Why would she not insure it was done correctly and efficiently while on her watch? Thus proving that she is the “superior” parent and I…the abusive, self centered asshole she enjoys telling her friends about.

Anyway, I contacted Womack and was told since the boys aren’t seen by a primary physician here there wasn’t room and they’d have to get a referral and bee seen off post. Ok, not a problem. I had to call back to Ireland (Knox) and request. Line busy, leave a message and we will return your call. Waited three days and then I called back which took me close to 45 min before I finally spoke to a human to get some assistance. Later I received a call from the PM and it was explained that they would not grant a referral. A physical is considered “routine” care and they would only grant a referral for acute or other medical emergency. With the way things are, furloughs, sequesters, etc it made perfect sense. So I explained to the boys and problem solved. Well next day I get a phone call from some doctor’s office reminding me of an upcoming appointment for the boys. I didn’t make an appointment and tri-care said no so what the hell. I come home from work and get told that “Mom” has set up a referral and we have to get our physicals. I explained to them what tri-care told me and as usual…it was me who’s wrong and their Mom who was right. So as usual, a small argument ensued and of course I’m not right and I’m the one being difficult and causing problems.

So I call tri-care and after a very informative and detailed talk I discovered there is no way a referral was put in much less approved. Then I walk into my daughter crying and upset. Her mother had called and told her that the boys have an appointment which she made via telephone on Monday at 1000. Moo has been waiting all summer to go to a concert and now she’s upset and can’t go. And whose fault is it…mine because had I taken the boys to get physicals earlier in the summer, this wouldn’t be happening. I did my best to explain things to her but she was too upset and emotional to listen. Once again, a nice day has been ruined by a phone call from the wise and superior parent and now all are mad at me. Madison then tells me that while we were in Georgia, I should have changed providers and gotten them the physicals there, as if I knew all this would happen.

It doesn’t matter that their Mom lied to them…twice and that she could have gotten the physicals months ago. I don’t get how I’m the irresponsible parent yet all the important things get thrown on me to execute. So we are just days away from separating from what was a great summer to spending the last days fighting and placing blame.

Oh and the best part is catching her in not one but two bold face lies. How? Well she told my sons she put them in for a referral which we now know was a lie and...she told them they couldn't get appointments there in KY for two to three weeks. Lie, how do I know because I made both boys appointments from here using Tri-care online on 5 Aug, two days before school. Problem solved right...wrong! She was pissed that I did this. Wait...didn't she call down here and make two appointments for the boys...on my dime?? LOL. So she then wrote the below email. I'm surprised she didn't threaten to contact my Chain of Command yet again. LMFAO. That woman is a trip. But it's ok for her to leave my son at a clinic alone for two hours and then cause a huge ruckus when she returns almost costing a person their job. Wait, she's the superior parent? LMFAO.

 

Received this email from my ex wife Jennifer, it’s laughable and pathetic all at the same time.

“Typical. Faggot. Your boys miss out on even more football. You are such a fucking asshole. They had an appointment today. But you know what? I hope you end up disfigured and laying, locked inside your body after Afghanistan. I will PERSONALLY pay you a visit and look you in the eyes and say "How does it FEEL ASSHOLE". THAT is a PROMISE. I hope your wife sees through your psychotic mind. One thing I know for sure? Is you kids know that you are the biggest jerk alive. And? When they miss out? It has never been due to me. But, their 'father's' bullshit. I hope they blow you away and paralyze you. It's what you deserve. Now, never again, fuck them over, because they are coming to age and hate you for all of your bullshit. You WILL reap what you sow. Oh, and? As per your 'assholeness'? (Please put this on FB you whiny dribbly wimp). I can't take them on the 5th. Why? Because I have a previous engagement. You, on the other hand, had them for TEN WEEKS and wouldn't do YOUR JOB. I can't WAIT for the School Board to notate this. I also can't WAIT until you are deployed. Your kids will be free of your insanity and one thing is for sure-they will NEVER forget what stupidity you come with. Asshole. They will ONLY EVER hate you for all of your drama. YOU.”

This will end when my youngest turns 18 and I know longer am tied to her…period.

Why I Love My Wife?

Well, where could I start? Do I really need to start? What would I say? Questions are abound and sure to enter the mind when you ponder this. Two years ago this time I was messaged by a woman on Match.com (Yes, I did the online dating thing-story for another time). I was talking to some else at the time but for an odd reason I requested that we be friends. I figured I’d need someplace to take my daughter if my children accompanied me to Ft Benning. We chatted on occasion and had exchanged numbers. But the one thing that sat with me was a few spiritual comments she made to me.

See I myself am a very spiritual person. I believe in God, Jesus, a higher power and well as I respect those whose belief differ from mine. So when she made her first comment, I thought wow. This is different. And the timing of it was odd. Odd as in it was what I kinda needed to hear at the time. So naturally I thanked her. Now, when it comes to online dating I’d have to say that pictures can be deceiving. When a woman simply posts head shots…it make you go hmmmmmmm. And that because my experience has taught me that they are 9 out of 10 times hiding something. So I wasn’t so much concerned because I was talking to someone so it allowed me to simply appreciate the gesture and the friendship; because anyone who knows me knows I value good friends.

So time passed and I found myself at Ft. Benning. So to pass the time I decided to pay her a visit and say hello, which I did. I was very impressed with her owning her own business since this is stereotypical of what we view as a strong woman (owning ones business that is). As I walked to the salon door before entering I kinda was hoping she wasn’t…you know…pleasing to my eye. So as we sat and chatted I found the conversation pleasant and what I kinda expected based on our occasional email. I will say this I did find her attractive and pleasing to the eye. LOL. Well I’m not one to second guess myself or commitments so I didn’t dwell on it. We talked for a good while and it felt like everyone in the Salon was staring at me. Well, that’s no big deal since I’m used to it and I was the only Black guy in the Salon. LOL.

Well, I wanted to be the first to end our visit and not look like I didn’t know when to leave so I

politely closed our talk out and asked for some business cards and brochures to hand out to my Soldier’s wives. She was genuinely grateful for my gesture of friendship and gave me a handful. Some of which I gave out and some…still in my glove compartment. As I smiled, gave her a hug and thanked her for her time I walked out saying, “Wow…she’s super nice. Glad I stopped in.” I have always prided myself on being able to judge others character. And what I found attractive was she wasn’t trying to woo me or drop lil hints. She honestly wanted to be my friend. That…was nice, respected and appreciated.

So when things didn’t work out with the person I was then talking to as I cooked dinner, I decided to drop her a line and see what she was up to. I didn’t expect her to be waiting by the phone for any man to call as I wouldn’t be waiting on a woman. If she available fine, if not…no big deal. Lots of women in that area was my thought. So later that evening I decided to message her and simply asked when I got down there would she like to go for coffee.  I also made it clear that I wasn’t trying to be a “playa” (hate that word) but things didn’t work out and I’d enjoy having female friend. After my divorce and dating (dating and a committed relationship is two very different things for we men ladies. Nor does dating equate to SEX!), I figured I’d take a break once I got to Benning.

So I arrived at Benning with my three clones in tow. Kerry had invited us to her house that evening we arrived as she was having a BBQ with her Family. I got to meet the whole crew as she did mine. And it was…in a word…pleasant. She later invited Maddy to attend a model search of sorts they were having in which she was a judge. She also took them to a water park and their first visit to Five Guys. And my sons got to go to Auburn before I did. One day as I drove Jeff was with me and he asked if I liked her.

“Yeah…she’s cool eh?,” I said. “What do you think,” I asked.

“Yeah she’s nice…I think you should date her,” he smiled.

And we laughed as we made a few more jokes as we drove. My kids are very honest and I think with me finally moving out of the state. The separation would hinder our relationship but create a buffer for the one between their Mom and I in which I hoped with her getting what she had claimed was so important to her that the healing could commence and we could put our kids first and place our failed marriage where it belonged…in our pasts. Eventually my kids had to return home and I said my good buys. Oddly enough Kerry volunteered to ride with me and help me drive back. I gave her a brief tour of the area and she got to meet my best friend Andy Baird or AB as I call him.

She had offered to take me on a mini vacation, a weekend in Florida. I hadn’t’ been on a “adult” vacation in…I think never. She took me to Destin and we had a nice weekend. She drove as I had no idea where we were going and that drove me crazy inside; as well as her aggressive driving style. I laid the seat back and put on my blades. She probably thought I was relaxing.

 

Hell no! I was scared as balls! LOL. I survived in Iraq for a year and this woman made me nervous. Well we made it there in one peace and visited two of her friends. Both who work at separate restaurants and we stopped in to visit Rhonda at her’s. My lil cousin was stationed there so he drove over to help eat my food. Seeing him was pretty cool. Oh...and did I mention, she talked me into going on a jetski ride?!? And I don't swim either. LOL

So…all in all it was a great weekend with what seemed to be a great woman. By this time I had met most of her family and an ass load of her friends. Seems I was always getting a call at work asking if I could come by the salon and meet so and so. And I always did. One special friend looked me up and down, this tiny lil frail lady and whipped out an item on her key chain and held it out for me to grab.

“Ok 1SG, I got a test for ya. What’s this?”

I looked down smiled and answered excitedly, “Ma’am, that’s a P38. I used to have one on my key chain. I lost it along with my keys somewhere on Normandy DZ one night.”

She looked me square in the eyes and said, “I ain’t Ma’am…it’s Chris! And Kerry, this one’s alright.”

That would be the first of many people I would have to past the test too. How many people does this woman know anyway gees. LOL. There would be a lot of adventures I would find myself on with Kerry. It seemed she now had a man to accompany her to any and all things and she sure was gonna take advantage of that.

 

Time continued to pass until I found myself on Christmas morning asking for her hand in marriage. And the rest is somewhat history. Mind you I received a lot of hints too.

So that’s some of our brief yet fun story there are numerous things I love about my wife and our meeting and subsequent story is just one. She was there for me when I had surgery on my knee. Never had that before, never woke to someone being there and that was an amazing feeling. No woman had ever been there for me in that manner…save my Mom but that doesn’t count. While on convalesce leave she’d call or stop by every day to check on me and that too was nice.

 

She has made me angry at times and she has made me cry too. She has given me love and support in oh so many ways and I’m truly grateful for that. She’s not perfect nor am I and I love her just the same.

 

There are a hundred questions that one could ask one’s self in this regard but you will always come to the same conclusion. I love my wife because I choose too.