My Pets.

I was born into a family with pets. My father had dogs and my mother had a bevy of pets including three flying sqirrels!

My first pet may well have been the dumbest of the lot. I can't remember this floppy-eared beagle's name, but he just could NOT be house-trained. So at the age of four I lost my first pet. I remember lying in the back of the station wagon (back when there were station wagons, car seats didn't exist, and seat belts were mostly for decoration) holding my dog and crying my eyes out, begging my mom to let him stay. Little did I know that this initial loss would be a trend for years to come.

I also had a turtle and a fish-or-two.

My next furry pet I shared with my brother, a seal-point Siamese cat whose name I can't remember, either (it's been 45 years - give an old guy a break). He lived and endured us for a few years in Des Moines, Iowa. He loved affection, a bit odd for a Siamese, and would actually crawl into bed with me every night, creep under the blankets or sheet, and curl up next to me. We lost him when we went on vacation one winter to visit family over Christmas. Left with friends, he got out of the house and was later found frozen to death under their house.

Dad located another Siamese cat that we named Petey. Petey was a bit more aloof, but was still a great cat. We sent him away when we moved into a new home in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and he decided that he would rather mark the territory with his feces, especially on Mom's shoes. Dad found him a home with a major dog breeder. That scared me, but Dad assured me everything would be fine. I didn't ever find out for sure if it was fine because soon afterward Dad went off to Vietnam and Mom insisted that we move closer to 'home.'

We soon found ourselves in Mississippi, in the same town as my Dad's father and stepmother, and just 45 minutes away from my Mom's closest sister who lived in Alabama. It was in Mississippi that we adopted a kitten that will likely be the most unique cat that I've ever called a pet.

Rosie was a slight, black-and-white, female cat that we later found had nearly died when she and her mother had been chased into a stream by a dog. Rosie nearly drowned but made it out to became the single greatest feline dog hunter I've ever known, as well as perhaps the smartest cat I've ever seen. We named her for her bright-red nose.

Small, about five pounds, she made the move with us to a large wooded lot in South Carolina. We lived way out in the woods, the daily bus ride to school took an hour-and-half one way. She would follow us every morning to the bus stop along US Highway 601 and wait until we were on the bus. Then she would go home, into the woods, or on a few occasions, stand or sit beside the road till traffic passed, and stroll across the highway. In the afternoon, she would go to the door to be let out by Mom, and would go up to the bus stop to meet us and walk us home.

We would hunt rabbits and birds, my brother and I, and wherever we went, Rosie followed along, much as a dog would. She had a hatred of dogs, though. I watched transfixed one day as I saw a lost deer-hunting dog walk up to the edge of the woods at our yard. He quickly spied Rosie lying still in the middle of the yard, sunning herself. Dogs being dogs, the poor pooch charged. Rosie didn't move. The dog very quickly closed and just when he thought his prey was his, Rosie sprang on him with all twenty claws! The dog quickly turned tail and ran as Rosie took chase, fur flying from the dog's haunches! It was amazing to watch as this 60-to-80-pound dog ran yelping through the woods as this miniscule cat took chase, hissing and growling till the dog was gone. And I saw her do this on at least two other occasions, too.

Rosie moved with us again to a brand-new home just off US Highway 1. She stayed with us many more years, but was later killed alongside the highway, apparently by a car.

After moving into our new home we got a beautiful, black Labrador Retriever pup. Before his first birthday we learned that he had a fast moving form of arthritis that was quickly destrying his hips. Dad and I took him to the vet to be put down. We buried him beside Rosie in the yard.

After that, we got a wonderful Golden Lab puppy we named Princess. One of the smartest dogs I've ever known, she was an amazingly protective animal who knew absolutely the limits of our yard. And she protected that yard and the house from anyone she didn't know. A wonderful dog, she and Cyclops, our one-eyed cat (he apparently lost it in a fight - we got him at the pound)lived at our home for years, well after I had left for college, bought my own home and gotten married.

In the new home of Darlene and I, we got a dog I named Frodo, and a beautiful, gray, female cat named Natasha. The dog we soon had to give away, but Natasha stayed. She even provided my parents and sister a new cat to replaced the recently-deceased Cyclops with one of her first litter, a black male named Brando. His identical brother I named Jet.

Natasha moved with us to Hawaii, but disappeared one day. She would occasionally show up, but eventually she never returned. We kept one of her second litter, a very affectionate, but very dim male I named Gimpel, after a short story of the same title named after the mentally-challenged hero. He also died early. Our move to Colorado saw us take along yet another cat from Hawaii. That cat was there for our daughter Samantha's birth, followed us back to South Carolina, then accompanied us to Washington. It was on our way home from Washington that he was lost in a car accident that destroyed our van and his cat carrier. I went back to the accident scene on a couple of occasions, but we never found him, dead or alive.

Upon our return home to South Carolina, we bought a home and soon took in Mudge, a very large Golden Lab-Chow mix, and Sami, a cat our daughter named after herself ("Sami-cat"). Sami cat met a quick and untimely death. She is buried in the front yard. Petrie came next, a large, long-haired, black female. She was a very happy and affectionate cat, who loved to groom herself and whoever happened to be around. I have short hair, and Petrie would like to crawl into bed and onto my pillow at night and groom me. Darlene hated it, but it didn't bother me in the least.

Mudge grew into a 100-pound dog who was an incredible hunter. He brought home over the years mocking birds, blue jays, moles, muskrats, possums, raccoons, a deer, snakes, squirrels and rabbits. He loves guns and fireworks, chasing rockets and Roman candles, and jumping all around in the midst of popping fire crackers. He kept strays out of the neighborhood for years and loved little children, being a fixture during the years of my wife's home daycare as children, beat, pulled, tugged, and jumped on him. He would just lie there with his tail just wagging.

Our other cat is Lola, a gray stray we found one day. She became my cat and can be quite aloof, though she has a hunger for affection.

Mudge is old now, and I have instructed Ian, our son, to fire off fireworks and then take Mudge out to the woods to hunt squirrels on his last day. Mudge's last thought will be a happy one as he hears the gun go off. I don't want him at the vet's, a place he hates. That, I believe, would be too cruel.

Petrie, though, is the reason for this. My daughter called tonight to say that Ian had found her under the house, dead. She was old for a cat, about 14 years. A wonderful pet, she is the first pet I ever have kept from birth to death. I'll miss her and her careful grooming of my occasionally sunburned head.

Suicide Is Not A Military Innovation

I have been amused, if not amazed, by the attitudes of people concerning suicide bombings and the like as practiced by our most current enemy. In the north of Iraq in 2004 I tried to instill in my colleagues the necessity of vigilance and care in the defense of our compound perimeter due to the possibility of an assault. Most answered with comments along the lines of, "That'd be crazy. We'd kill em all."

Well of course.

This isn't the first time that we, as Americans have encountered an enemy so filled with hatred and a desire for glory in their Heaven that they would willingly die to kill us. World War II in the Pacific, especially in the Phillipines and Okinawa, showed a Japanese ability to die for their cause through suicide. Kamikaze (suicide attacks by aircraft), Banzai (suicide charges by infantry) and harikiri (self-disimbowelment), and similar naval tactics, were standard in the Imperial Japanese military. Thousands of American, British, Australian and other allied soldiers, sailors and Marines were killed by these tactics.

The Korean War saw United Nations Forces, led by the US, fight against human wave attacks by Communist Chinese forces. These were clearly suicidal, though probably not what one would consider suicide attacks.

But, just a few years later in Vietnam, US soldiers encountered suicide assaults in conjunction with Viet Cong and later North Vietnamese attacks. These troops would throw themselves across barbed and concertina wire barriers, risking sure death, to ease the way for their comrades to charge through the defensive perimeters. Other communist soldiers would strap satchel charges to their bodies and rush into command bunkers and ammunition stores, triggering their explosives once inside. Ask any old American infantry Vietnam veteran about these tactics. They were real and they were tactically effective.

This is an old tactic used in the modern day today by Muslim terrorist suicide bombers. Why should anyone be surprised?

Grafitti Surprise

There have been a few surprises here in Germany for me. I was caught off guard at the high cost of living, for one. If their is anything I've found truly surprising is the prevalence of grafitti everywhere. And what is really surprising is the quality of the artistry!

Now we've all seen the variety of grafitti all over America. Most of it really is of poor quality, much of it being gang symbols and marks. The closest thing I've encountered to gangs here in Europe was a couple of young teenage boys on the local trolley. Dressed in the current gang attire, with baggy pants, bandanas, and hats worn sideways, they were listening to hip hop as they sat. My first thought was, "you two wouldn't last two seconds in South Central (Los Angeles)." Of course, it would occur to anyone that a 'drive-by' would be a bit tough from a trolley!

So, without the gang grafitti, the art is quite good, and apparently tolerated. Bright, colorful, cartoon-like, serious, beautiful, frightening, realistic, graphic - it's all there. And unlike in the States, though, there seems to be a sense of discipline with grafittists here that American "practitionists" lack. Trains roll by here generally unscarred by "spray bomb," though solitary buildings, walls, posts, and the like are mostly covered and 'tagged'. Some efforts are made by owners to clean and repaint vandalized areas, but as in America, the efforts are mostly useless. I saw a building that had had construction completed one day, and was completely covered by grafitti within two days!

The biggest shock was the discovery in Old Heidelberg of a grafitti store! This shop had clothing, and mostly spray paint cans of nearly every color! It was an amazing display of acceptable vandalism!

Only in Germany, I guess!

Gibraltar Expoundage

OK. I don't really think that "expoundage" is actually a word, but I did promise to say more about Gibraltar in a previous post, so now I will:

Wikipaedia states that Gibraltar "...is a peninsula of 6.843 square kilometres (2.642 sq mi)" and that it has a "densely populated city area, home to almost 30,000 Gibraltarians." Considering that The Rock, as the towering peak is known, takes up about two-thirds of the peninsula, that means that all the citizens of the town are crammed into an area of about a square mile.

Gibraltar sits at a very southern point of Spain, jutting into the Straights that divide the Meditteranean Sea from the Atlantic Ocean. Captured in 1704 from Spain by Dutch and British forces during the War of Spanish Succession, the subsequent peace treaty granted the small plot of land to Great Britain in perpetuity, which of course means forever in "realspeak."

Gibraltar is a piece of England that may be more English than the Home Country. I drove into the territory directly from the Spanish city of La Linea de la Concepcion, past the customs house entrance, and south into Gibraltar. This was not possible for fifteen years between 1970 and 1985 during the fascist Franco regime. The irony was that Spain and Britain were both NATO allies then as they are now! Incredibly, the only road connecting the place to Spain crosses the airport runway, with stop lights at each side to stop auto and pedestrian traffic when airplanes line up to land.

Spain has demanded a renunciation of the peace treaty for years and years, and the return of the territory to Spain. Two referenda on returning Gibraltar have been held and the last was defeated by 99% by the citizens of the territory! The irony is that Spain maintains six "plazas de soberanía" (places of sovereignty) on and along the Mediterranean coast of Morocco, the two largest and most famous being the cities of Ceuta and Melilla. Morocco is just as adamant that these territories belong to them, and that Spain needs to leave. My suggestion is that the British invite Morocco to any negotiations with Spain about Gibraltar and include the plazas in the talks. Seems to me that the discussions would be really intersting.

The first surprise to me in Gibraltar was that everyone drove on the right side of the street. The standard in Britain, of course, is left-side driving. It matters little, though, as many roads there are one way, and there are so few (it's only a square mile-or-so, remember). The roads are small and curvy and packed.

After driving to the south end of the peninsula and shooting a number of photos of Morocco and the abundant sea traffic, I drove to the center of town, parking at the cable car station and rode to the top of The Rock. The views of the town, the Spanish mainland and the surrounding seas were spectacular. The monkeys were cool, too.

Legend says that British garrisons years ago brought Barbary Macaques as mascots to the outpost. There is some evidence that they were there before the British conquest. Either way, they are the only outpost in Europe of any type of wild monkey.

In town, everything is tight. It is the type of place that would make a New Yorker feel comfortable, except that the roads are minimally sized, much as all roads in ancient, European towns. It was at once vibrant and claustrophobic. And fully British, with everyone talking in a wonderfully English accent. I heard not a word of Spanish!

It made a great afternoon trip from our quarters at our hotel in Rota, Spain.

German Update - 18 October 2010

I've been in Germany now for half-a-year. I certainly have seen and learned a lot. And the most exciting thing to date is my wife's, Darlene's, arrival in Europe.

The cuisine here is amazing. I have yet to have a bad meal outside of a US Military compound. The food here is at once eclectic and varied. The "Mexican" restuarant in Germany is Turkish, with a "doener" stand on every corner. Then there are the Chinese restaurants, too, along with (of course) McDonald's, Burger King, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Taco Bell. To date, outside of military posts, I have yet to indulge in American fast food.

We live in a gasthaus in a little Mannheim suburb called Viernheim (FEARN-hime). The people here are quite nice, and as varied as the food. Poles, a Yugoslavian (by her description), Bulgarians, Brazilians, and Germans work here. Darlene is now a stay-at-home wife, though she is preparing to return to college next month. Wonderfully, just the other day, as the Brazilian and Bulgarian came in to clean the room, she found herself dancing with them both.

Another wonderful woman here is a Pole who moved to Germany as a two-year-old in 1944 at the height of the Soviet advance west through what is today the Ukraine. Her mother, after seeing the Soviets and Nazis in action, decided that Nazis were better than Communists.

There are surprising things I have encountered, despite what I had heard from my Government and from the US media. First of all, Germans smoke like chimneys. They also "drink like fish." On top of it all, due to a history of ancient warfare and invasion, most meals involve pork and fried foods. This despite all the reports I had heard that Western Europeans live and eat more healthily that we Americans.

Soft porn and sex-phone adds are easily found after midnight on television. Nudity is easily found in full view at the newsstand, but there are sharp and hard limits on the nudity one can find in those magazines.

Libertarianism is an essentially unknown political philosphy here.

The Polizei have very broad powers, and there is no concept of police brutality. The Polizei will use as much violence as they feel necessary to control the situation.

Public transportation is common nationwide, though I have recently seen that more rural areas have fewer options. They DO have options, though, but taxes are high here, with a Value Added Tax of 19% on ALL items, to include groceries. The irony is that groceries here are surprisingly cheap, due to tax-supported subsidies to farms.

Overall, Europe has been quite the adventure and so far we are enjoying it greatly. The Lord continues to bless me, and I don't know why.

Deutschland Update - 14 July 2010

I’ve been in Germany now since 27 April, or eleven weeks, and I have finally had my first major encounter with European wildlife today. First there was the hare that hopped across my path. But, I was in for a much bigger surprise a few minutes later.

First, let’s update since my last post.

Since then, I have traveled to Southwestern Spain for twelve days/eleven nights for work. It was interesting to see Rota, as I had passed through some ten years ago. There were quite a few changes to the US/Spanish naval base, and the town. Much has been added to both and it still kept its charm.

Additionally, a colleague and I took full advantage of a day when we were released early and took a short trip to the British bastion of Gibraltar. This small outpost of all that is the Empire, is at once vibrant and claustrophobic. I will expand on this encounter in the future.

I took the break in working in Germany to move to another small city outside Mannheim, Viernheim. It is a quaint and cozy town and I find that I am enjoying the move much. I ride my bike about 12 kilometers (about 7 miles) to work every day through the Kaefertal Wald (“Wood”), and return in the evening. The small forest is the home of numerous biking and walking trails, paved, graveled and grass, and holds a restaurant, rec areas and the Mannheim Wasserwerke (water works).

The city water here is terrible, and I am able to taste the bromide and fluoride, along with the hint of mineral within the water. It is truly bad. But, across the trail from the Wasserwerke is a natural spring that has been properly plumbed and I stop daily and fill my water bottles with tolerably good water!

Recently, there was all of five hours of darkness due to the northerly location. This and the performance of the German Soccer Team in the World Cup had most Germans up very late! I couldn’t participate, even if I had wanted, as I am currently working 6 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. and go to sleep rather early at 9 p.m., or so.

So, I awoke at 4:30 this morning, prepped, dressed and grabbed my lunch. I am usually on the road no later than 5:15 for my 35-to-40-minute ride to work. The ride was quite enjoyable, as the morning temperatures here have been in the 50’s and 60’s. I saw my hare and continued through the Wald. Suddenly, I saw a large boar trot out of the woods in front of me. Standing about three feet tall and sporting tusks at least four inches, he quickly got my attention and I hit the brakes.

The skidding of my wheels got his attention and he bolted just as I saw the other six-to-eight pigs that had yet to emerge form the woods! The big boar bolted across to the right and the rest of the sounder bolted in the direction that I was traveling. We all moved quickly in three parallel paths before my flanking escort broke off their flight, and I continued on my way to work.

There I continued my work on helicopters and had other encounters today with US, Dutch, German and French military personnel. But, all that was quite anti-climactic. The trip home was uneventful. Thankfully.

My New Life?

Well, I have now been in Germany for over two weeks. My wife swears it's a month. I suspect she's trying to make me feel good...

When I was offered this job, I was unsure whether it was what I needed to do. Last year I discerned within the Episcopal Church for the priesthood, and was found to not yet be ready. It was disappointing, but I trusted that the committee was under the Lord's influence. Therefore, I told the company on the day I spoke with them that I would have an answer that Thursday morning, after talking with my family and praying. That Wednesday, over a period of fourteen hours, I watched as the Lord tied up every end that could possibly keep me in the US.

I told my wife, Darlene, that we should sell off everything we own (except for family heirlooms which we'd put in storage) and "become gypsies for the next fifteen years. We'll retire when I'm sixty-five, buy or build a little bungalow, and retire to our rockers, hobbies and travels. She readily agreed. We already have our first weekend trip to Liechtenstein planned for when she arrives later this year.

I'm living currently in the southwest of Germany in the Mannheim area. I have been enjoying exploring my new job, the area, and this interesting, new language. One of the things that has impressed me about Mannheim is the transit system. This place is somewhere between the size of Columbia, South Carolina and Charlotte, North Carolina. The RNV (Rhein-Neckar Verkehrsverbund, or Rhine-Necker Traffic Group in English) is a thoroughly modern transit organization that covers the Mannheim and Heidelburg areas and the area in between. For about $300-a-month I can buy a pass to take me anywhere on the system for that month. Not too bad, but I also, along with everyone else here, pay a 19% Value-Added-Tax on EVERYTHING that is bought here. That's on top of all other taxes Germans pay.

Ford and Chevrolet market models here unseen in America, as does Smart Car. They have at least two other models, one of which is a nifty, little sports car. You can also buy a Peugeot (French), Skoda (Czech), though I've yet to see a Lada (Russian) or a Yugo (Thank God!).

Even with all the choices, I doubt I will buy a car. You can get nearly anywhere in the area on RNV, as long as you are in Baden-Wurttemburg state. I am staying across the state line in Hessen, in an old town named Lampertheim. Founded in 832, or thereabout, it is a clean and comely, bedroom community that contrasts with a grittier, industrial Mannheim. My first impression was The Village from the AMC mini-series "The Prisoner." My second thought was the town in the movie "Truman." Clean and quaint, though the scourge of spray-paint graffitti is quite prevalent.

I am living currently in a hotel room that is small. The room is approximately 10x15 feet including a small bath. But I have German TV, and CNN Europe in English. I have the ONLY balcony room in the place. At 20 euros-a-night, I can't beat it or complain.

I work on an American Army compound, Coleman Barracks, for a defense contractor. I am doing essentially what I have done for the past fifteen years for the South Carolina National Guard, working on Army helicopters. Ironically, my first job on the hangar floor was on a Koninklijke Luchtmacht (Royal Netherlands Air Force) AH-64D Apache.

Some of the things I've encountered have raised my eyebrows. There's the "Everything's a Euro" store, and yes, it IS what you would think. There's also Woolworth's stores still here. There's also footbal, American-style. The Weinheim Longhorns play here. And a convertible Mini Cooper will cost you $24,000.

The weather here is everything I've ever heard. The week I arrived it was quite warm (highs in the 80's, lows in the fifties.) More recently, it has turned into Seattle weather - cold and damp. I've joked that they should have contests in the papers: "Draw the Sun, Win a Prize!"

Nevertheless, the area has entertainment possibilities that blow my mind. I could never imagine such back home in my area. Mannheim has a ballet (I've met one of their ballerinas, a 21-year-old Australian who also tends bar at a local Irish Pub). The city is currently co-hosting the International Ice Hockey Federation World Championships. Additionally, upcoming concerts by Skorpions, a-ha, Deep Purple and Simply Red, to name just four, have caught my eye.

Culturally, the Turkish population in Germany is to this country what Mexicans are in the US. Turkish restaurants abound, and like most food, I like it. I've also discovered a wonderful Italian store in Lampertheim that specializes in meats, wine and cheeses from Italy. And an ice cream stand near that store has wonderful treats.

Most importantly, I have found a church. The English Church Heidelberg meets in a former convent chapel in the old portion of the city. This area was spared allied bombing in World War Two. The building is small (four rooms if you consider the narthex/lobby, the bell tower, and the main parish), but the church membership is vibrant with a Briton raised in California and his family, some German Anglicans, a wonderful lady from Sierra Leone, to name but a few. Additionally, we have a world-circuit riding Kiwi priest and his wife, who will be here for five more weeks. The building is shared with an Old Catholic church, whose priest serves communion twice-a-month to we Anglicans when we lack a priest.

So, here I am. I'm still unsure about exactly what God wants of me here. But, whatever it is, I am anxious to enjoy Europe as do His work!

Whatever that may be.

Same As It Ever Was

This past Tuesday, 9 February, here in Columbia, South Carolina, I was able to attend with my wife, sister and brother-in-law a lecture by Zvi Bielski. It was interesting, informative and entertaining and filled in some holes for me concerning the recent movie "Defiance."

For those who have not seen the movie, I would recommend it. It is a compelling retelling of the anti-Nazi partisan saga of the Jewish Bielski brothers in what is today Belarus during the height of Hitler's power in World War II. According to Zvi, the son of one of those brothers, Zus, it is "very accurate," though Hollywood did a few minor "re-writes."

If you have not seen the movie, there is also a book by Peter Duffy, "The Bielski Brothers," on which the movie is based. It is not my intent to retell the story, but I will say a few interesting points that may whet your appetite to see the movie or read the book (I've done both):
-The Bielskis saved the lives of over 1200 Jews from Nazi extermination.
-They killed over 400 German soldiers and their Nazi collaborators.
-During their time eluding and fighting the Nazis they lost a grand total of
FIVE people, two of which the brothers killed themselves. I will not judge
them, I'll leave that to you and God.
-The brothers also saved dozens of gentiles.

The presentation by Zvi Bielski included video excerpts from various news outlets and some clips from the movie. One of the clips dovetailed EXACTLY with a question I had for him during his presentation, much to my delight and surprise. He solicited questions throughout his presentation and his comments were insightful and defiant. He made the comment that his father, uncles and he do not consider themselves "victims" of the Nazis, but rather victors, citing the numbers saved and the enemy killed.

I stated to Zvi that my sister and I were of German-Jewish extraction (our paternal grandmother) and that in researching our family tree I came upon at least one great-great aunt who had died in Germany in 1940 during the first year of the war, and the seventh of Nazi persecution. Then I posed the question, "It has always made me curious as to why so many European Jews went to their deaths so docilely. Why were your brothers (sic - I meant his father and uncles - Zvi did correct me) so different?"

His answer was a gem.

"My family was from the country. They grew up in the woods. Most Jews in Europe lived in the cities." I think I offended Zvi when I said, "So, in other words they were Russian Rednecks." It was not my intent, of course. My point was to quantify their placement in what would be America today.

Zvi Bielski made an important point about the vast majority of Europe's Jewry - they were intellectuals. They were likely Liberal and Progressive in their world view. They believed that they could convince the Nazis of their usefulness - that is borne out in so many examples from the era. And it is understandable. The Nazis were a product of early-20th Century Progressive thought and a great deal of their policies were Progressive and Liberal - freezing and controlling executive pay, universal healthcare, eugenics to ensure healthcare and social costs, state guidance of health and food issues, support of agriculture through subsidies, alternative fuels research, expansion of government, use of unions and media to control public opinion, and gun control to ensure the safety of the populace. On the face of it, the Nazis were kind and benevolent. Just like other European intellectuals of the day.

What set the Bielskis aside, beside the realpolitik of their lives and world, was that they had hidden their one illegal gun from the Germans, Russians, Poles and Soviets over the years. The Bielski Otriad (Russian for detachment), and the lives of 1200 people, grew from a rifle and two bullets. And the fact that they were country boys, what we in America today would refer to as rednecks. And it was this redneck attitude, and guns, that saved them.

Eventually the Bielskis would move to Israel and then America, where they and their children live today. Why did they move? They were heroes. They had killed Nazis alongside other Soviet soldiers and partisans during “The Great Patriotic War.” Despite this, at the end of the war they were declared traitors by the great Soviet leader Josef Stalin. They ran and survived.

Zvi Bielski is justifiably proud of his father and family. His family’s story rings a warning for us today:

Strong, powerful, large governments are dangerous.

A Powerful and Chilling Warning

An e-mail was forwarded to me by a friend. It was a rather typical sort of thing I get frequently. I searched for it on TruthorFiction and at Snopes but had no luck. So I Googled the story below and came across a slew of information on this lady, almost all left-wing criticism.

They confirm that she did in fact give this narrative. It was given on 12 November 2009 in Rapid City to the South Dakota Family Policy Council. Additionally, I have a former colleague who in his teenage years literally risked his life to escape what was arguably the most liberal Communist nation in Eastern Europe, Czechoslovakia. He snuck past armed border guards and guard dogs, through minefields and under barbed wire. It was called the Iron Curtain and unlike the Mexican-American border, it was erected to keep people in, not out. He will sternly tell anyone who will listen that what he escaped then is quickly encroaching here today in America. It amazes me that anyone could point at someone who experienced 30 and 70 years ago what we are going through today, and then scream "NUT-JOB." These two are sounding a warning. The lady was in a Fascist nation, the other Communist. They will tell you there is little-to-no difference with either system. They are both Socialist - one national, one international. They are both brutal and rule by the same methods. And in all cases, they came to power on the platform of Hope and Change. The left is either blissfully ignorant of what is going on, or they just don't care, or they truly wish to see it happen. Ignore Ms. Werthmann, and my former colleague, at your own risk.
______________________________________________

Kitty Werthmann, 77, of Pierre, SD, is president of the South Dakota Eagle Forum. She lobbies the state Legislature on family issues. She has lived in the United States since 1950 and has been a U.S. citizen since 1962. She tells a powerful story about what it was like growing up under Hitler:

"What I am about to tell you is something you've probably never heard or will ever read in history books. I believe that I am an eyewitness to history. I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. We elected him by a landslide – 98% of the vote. I've never read that in any American publications. Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.

"In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25% inflation and 25% bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren't any jobs. My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.

"The Communist Party and the National Socialist Party were fighting each other. Blocks and blocks of cities like Vienna, Linz and Graz were destroyed. The people became desperate and petitioned the government to let them decide what kind of government they wanted. We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933. We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group -- Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

"We were overjoyed, and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. After the election, German officials were appointed, and like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

"Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn't support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage.

"Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn't pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang “Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,” and had physical education.

"Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail. The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. My mother was very unhappy.

"When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn't do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn't exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

"In 1939, the war started and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. Soon after this, the draft was implemented. It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps. During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

"When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. You could take your children ages 4 weeks to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, 7 days a week, under the total care of the government. The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

"Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna. After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80% of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

"We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn't meet all the demands. Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

"We had consumer protection. We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the live-stock, then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

"In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia..

"Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long after-wards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

"No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

"Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.

"After World War II, Russian troops occupied Austria. Women were raped, preteen to elderly. The press never wrote about this either. When the Soviets left in 1955, they took everything that they could, dismantling whole factories in the process. They sawed down whole orchards of fruit, and what they couldn't destroy, they burned. We called it The Burned Earth. Most of the population barricaded themselves in their houses. Women hid in their cellars for 6 weeks as the troops mobilized. Those who couldn't, paid the price. There is a monument in Vienna today, dedicated to those women who were massacred by the Russians.

"This is an eye witness account."

It's Easy For Me

I was born four weeks before 1959 in a U.S. military hospital in Germany. From that I personally have two birth certificates. One is a U.S. State Department certificate of “Birth of a U.S. Citizen Overseas.” The other is a German Geburtserkunde. Simply, both state that I was born at a certain place and time of specific parents. They both agree on those items. The difference is the language.

My wife was born a few months later in the American South. Her parents received a birth certificate that she can obtain official copies of through the county in which she was born.

When my children were born, each one in a different state of the Union, my wife and I received two birth certificates. One was an unofficial hospital certificate and the other was the official certificate from the states of their birth. We keep the originals in a safe deposit box at our bank, and we have copies that stay at our home and in the hands of our now-adult children. Interestingly, in the case of both our children the two documents were in full agreement on the date, time and place of their births, and of who the parents are.

In the case of each of these births, the documentation is full and accurate. I can produce these documents in a minimal amount of time, though weekends are problematical. I was required to produce these when I enlisted and throughout my career in the Army in order to prove that I was who I said I was, and that my wife and children were who they were supposed to be.

So, I guess the real question is:

Why can’t my president do the same?