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Greetings! You are reading an article from The Mudville Gazette. To reach the front page, with all the latest news and views, click the logo above or "main" below. Thanks for stopping by! June 21, 2004 Hallo From AmericaBy GreyhawkGreetings from somewhere in the USA - it's good to be home, dial-up connection and all. A quick and true story, with more to follow:
This "ask someone" approach is a last resort for me, especially in Europe where a language barrier can result in you being farther from your destination after following what you thought were accurate directions. But this is AMERICA! No language barrier! So I approach the young lady, smiling, and say: "I need to find a..." and that's when I realized that after two years overseas and hours of sleepless travel in coach I couldn't remember how to say in English what I wanted. I had forgotten the American term for what the Germans call a Geldautomat! "Um... uh.." I sputtered, "one of those machines that gives you money..." she's looking at me like I'm at least strange and possibly dangerous, and maybe considering calling the homeland security folks that had just welcomed me home, but suddenly I see the lightbulb come on over her head. "An ATM?" She asks. "Yes, that's it, an ATM!" I turn to the kids. "Kids, in America geldautomats are called ATMs!" And now they look at me like I'm worthy of concern. But they're also pointing, as is the nice young lady, at the ATM machines three feet down the wall from the information booth. "Ahh yes, there they are, thanks." And they work like a charm. (Though I'd forgotten about that 1.50 charge for the privilege.) It's good to be home. ![]() More to come. Posted by Greyhawk / June 21, 2004 4:50 PM | Permalink 1 TrackBackA warrior is home.... Read More 9 Comments |
November 26, 2010America@war [Greyhawk]
I think anyone who's ever pondered the "comment" option - once only available on blogs and bulletin boards, now ubiquitous on almost any web site - will appreciate this:
The so-called faculty of writing is not so much a faculty of writing as it is a faculty of thinking. When a man says, "I have an idea but I can't express it"; that man hasn't an idea but merely a vague feeling. If a man has a feeling of that kind, and will sit down for a half an hour and persistently try to put into writing what he feels, the probabilities are at least 90 percent that he will either be able to record it, or else realize that he has no idea at all. In either case, he will do himself a benefit. That's wisdom from the past, captured for posterity at the US Naval Institute, shared via the web on the institute's 137th anniversary. From their about page:
"The Naval Institute has three core activities," among them, History and Preservation: The Naval Institute also has recently introduced Americans at War, a living history of Americans at war in their own words and from their own experiences. These 90-second vignettes convey powerful stories of inspiration, pride, and patriotism. Take a look at the collection, and you'll see it's not limited to accounts from those who served on ships at sea, members of the other branches are well-represented. I'm fortunate to have met USNI's Mary Ripley, she's responsible for the institute's oral history program (and she's the daughter of the late John Ripley, whose story is told here). She also deserves much credit for their blog. ("We're not the Navy nor any government agency. Blog and comment freely.") We met at a milblog conference - Mary knew (and I would come to realize) that milbloggers are the 21st-century version of exactly what the US Naval Institute is all about. Once that light bulb came on in my head, I mentioned a vague idea for a project to her - milblogs as the 21st century oral history that they are. "Put that in writing," she said (of course - see first paragraph above!) - and here's part of the result. Shortly after the first tent was pitched by the American military in Iraq a wire was connected to a computer therein, and the internet was available to a generation of Americans at war - many of whom had grown up online. From that point on, at any given moment, somewhere in Iraq a Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine was at a keyboard sharing the events of his or her day with the folks back home. While most would simply fire off an email, others took advantage of the (then) relatively new online blogging platforms to post their thoughts and experiences for the entire world to see. The milblog was born - and from that moment to this stories detailing everything from the most mundane aspects of camp life to intense combat action (often described within hours of the event) have been available on the web... And et cetera - but since you're reading this on a milblog, you probably knew that. And you know that milblogs aren't just blogs written by troops at war, that many friends, family members, and supporters likewise documented their story of America at war online in near-real time, as those stories developed. The diversity in membership of that group is broad, the one thing we all have in common is the impulse to make sense of the seemingly senseless, and communicate the tale - for each of us that impulse was strong enough to overcome whatever barriers prevent the vast majority of people from doing the same. Everyone at some point has some vague idea they believe should be shared - we were the people who, from some combination of internal and external urging, found and spent those many half hours persistently trying to write it down. But where will all that be in another 137 years? Or five or ten, for that matter. That's something I've asked myself since at least 2004 - when I wrote this:
Membership in the ghost battalion has grown in the years since, and an ever growing majority of those abandoned-but-still-standing sites are vanishing. Have you checked out Lt Smash's site lately? How about Sgt Hook's? If you're a long-time milblog reader you know the first widely-read milblog from Operation Iraq Freedom and the first widely-read milblog from Afghanistan are both gone from the web. If you're a relative newcomer to this world you may never even have heard of them - or the dozens upon dozens of others who carried forth the standard they set down. If you have a vague notion that something should be done about that, (a notion I've heard expressed more than once...) then you and I and the good folks at the US Naval Institute are in agreement. Preserving the history documented by the milbloggers is just one of the goals of the milblog project, the once-vague idea that we're now making real. And it's a big idea, if I say so myself - too big to explain in one simple blog post, so stand by for more. Likewise, it's too big a task to be accomplished by just one person. So if you're a milblogger (and exactly what is a milblogger? is a topic for much further discussion on its own) I'm asking for your help. All I'll really need is just a little bit (maybe just one or two of those half hours...) of your time, and your willingness to tell the tale. We've already made history, it's time to save it. (More to follow...) Posted 4:02 PM | Permalink |
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The Mudville Gazette is the on-line voice of an American warrior and his wife who stands by him. They prefer to see peaceful change render force of arms unnecessary. Until that day they stand fast with those who struggle for freedom, strike for reason, and pray for a better tomorrow.
![]() Furthermore, I will occasionally use satire or parody herein. The bottom line: it's my house. I like having visitors to my house. I hope you are entertained. I fight for your right to free speech, and am thrilled when you exercise said rights here. Comments and e-mails are welcome, but all such communication is to be assumed to be 1)the original work of any who initiate said communication and 2)the property of the Mudville Gazette, with free use granted thereto for publication in electronic or written form. If you do NOT wish to have your message posted, write "CONFIDENTIAL" in the subject line of your email. Original content copyright © 2003 - 2011 by Greyhawk. Fair, not-for-profit use of said material by others is encouraged, as long as acknowledgement and credit is given, to include the url of the original source post. Other arrangements can be made as needed. Contact: greyhawk at mudvillegazette dot com ![]() Tending Distant Far from hearth and home, watching What tales we'll tell When things grim Some distant sunset, vision fading Saluting fallen friends whose names - Greyhawk, Baghdad, December 2004 |
Welcome Home!!!
Yes, Welcome Home!
Welcome home & THANK YOU!
Glad you're home for awhile, GH.
Good thing you have a blog so we can keep track of you! What was that about calling back? Still waiting to know your itinerary. Love, Sis
That whole culture shock thing can get you. I had a friend who had a similar experience, aslo at Atlanta airport. In his case (this was in the early 70's) he found himself locked in a telephone booth. (they used to have such things in America) He had forgotten that in American,the booth doors did not open by pushing out, they were two section doors that you pulled in on to open.
I know, totally lost most of the younger people. ( what's a phone booth? The doors did what?
My friend had been on Guam for two years and bought a candy bar at one of the airport shops on arrival home. When the cashier wanted to charge more than the sticker price he was all set to argue but suddenly remembered sales tax!
Welcome home.
Welcome home Greyhawk! Been missing your obs.
RE: the culture shock stuff, that can really suck worse then anything has sucked before. I was in Germany for a student exchange way back when. Being American I of course didn't know much Deutsch, let alone how to spell it. A certain fraulein with certain physical attributes would always catch my attention in a variety of ways being 18 years old at the time. She asked me one cloudy, overcast day as I stood there in a down jacket if I was cold.
Here was my chance to really impress her with my bi-lingualism and get that dream date with her. I puffed up and answered in my best voice;
"Nein, Ich bin warm."
For those of you that understand German slang, I didn't get my dream date with her.
Welcome home!