Another Blogosphere Mystery

It’s sometimes hard for me to remember that this website/blog doesn’t exist behind the screen or under the keyboard in the guts of my laptop. It’s out there somewhere, and I can only look at it from the front side just like everyone else until I log in. Then the “back pages” open up, and the world of the WordPress blog tool and publishing platform appears so that I can act as the administrator.

One of the available functions there monitors the update status of the theme I’m using and the only three “plugins” installed. WP-Stats keeps track of the number of posts, pages, comments, etc., Akismet blocks the spam, and Count per Day keeps tabs on the numbers game of blogging that I’ve mentioned in previous Blogbook posts.

A recent update to the counter significantly changed the appearance of the data by upgrading the graphs, and it added functions for monitoring the visitors’ countries in both tabular form and with a map. None of this information offers anything more than window dressing without trying to make sense of it, which I’ve been doing for about five months now since installing the plugin on October 14, 2010.

Both in terms of total visitor and “read” count, the trend indicates consistently increasing traffic. The visitors-per-post figures continue to baffle me, because I can’t figure out why certain posts attract more attention than others. It may well be that reader interest in the subject matter has far less to do with it than where the links to the posts appear on the page of a browser. If that’s the case, paying any attention to the numbers is really nothing more than an exercise in using statistics to warrant unjustified conclusions.

In spite of the possible futility of the effort, my daily routine usually involves checking the data a few times during the day for spam and latest visitor and read counts. If I have published a post that morning, I normally check an hour or so later to see if that post has received any attention, then maybe that afternoon, and almost always before logging out in the evening.

Last night about 10 o’clock, I noticed something that froze my eyes in place. In 22 hours, the counter had recorded about 140 visitors (a little higher than normal) and 750 reads (almost four times the previous maximum). When I checked the visitors-per-post listing for that period, the numbers indicated for the top posts had in fact increased from the usual 10-15 per day to 40-45. I signed off wondering what had happened to cause such a sudden spike in the numbers.

The last update to the Count per Day plugin had been installed about a month ago. When I signed in this morning, the update feature indicated a new one was available, so I installed it and immediately ran into trouble when the link to the data failed to appear in what is called the “Dashboard.”

I checked the plugin page and found that the function was supposedly active, but I still couldn’t find it. After a bit of troubleshooting, I ended up on the settings page for that plugin (for the first time ever) and noticed that the selection for who could view the data showed “custom.” In the drop-down menu I found “administrator,” selected it, and suddenly the date became available again. I have no idea why this was necessary.

Back on the data page, once again I noticed an unusual increase in the total counts for today, especially since it only covered a period of about ten hours. Something mysterious has happened again out there in the blogosphere. Take a look at the screen grab below to see what I mean. (Click on it to expand. The back button on your browser returns to this view.)

Holy Toledo, Blogman. Where are all these folks coming from?

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Get-home-itis + Icing = Pilot Error

Over 85% of all aircraft accidents aren’t really accidental because the chain of events leading up to the crash includes some degree of pilot error. One all-too-common cause of these crashes is a disease known as “get-home-itis.”

The following account is adapted with selected editing from the online magazine of the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association (AOPA). The original article is titled, “Personal pressure: Weather dooms pilot anxious to get home” by David Kenny.

Patience is an essential survival skill for pilots. Sometimes conditions just don’t cooperate, and it doesn’t matter how badly you need to be on your way. Long-term success—not to mention survival—requires learning that if the weather was unflyable yesterday, that same weather will still be unflyable today. This gets easier to accept as reality with experience, but in extreme cases even the most seasoned pilots may struggle to keep themselves on the ground until circumstances improve.

At 10:18 a.m. on Jan. 4, 2010, a Cessna 172 took off from Bangor International Airport in Maine bound for Goose Bay, Newfoundland, on the first leg of a transatlantic crossing en route to eventual delivery to a buyer in Russia. Thirty-six minutes later it crashed through the ice on the Penobscot River, killing the solo pilot.

The pilot’s IFR (instrument flight rules) flight plan estimated an unusual seven-and-a-half hours time en route (due to “ferry tanks” that  increased the fuel capacity of the 172). Conditions were not especially favorable for a long cross-country: northwest winds gusting to 17 knots and an altimeter setting of 29.35 (very low pressure and indicative of lousy weather), with overcast ceilings at 2,600 feet above ground level (agl), and a temperature of 3 degrees Celsius (just above freezing at the surface).

Two witnesses reported mist and light snow at the time of departure, and the warning of STRUCTURAL ICE should have jumped off the weather report and grabbed the pilot around the throat. But it didn’t, and he departed Bangor as planned.

At 10:40 a.m., the pilot was handed off to the Boston Air Route Traffic Control Center (ARTCC) and reported climbing through 6,000 feet mean sea level (msl) for his filed altitude of 9,000. A few seconds later he requested clearance to level at 7,000 feet, which was approved.

Five minutes after that, the controller asked if he was in fact going to climb to 7,000 and was told the Skyhawk’s rate of climb was down to fifty feet per minute. The pilot requested clearance to level off at 6,000 to build up airspeed. He did not specifically mention icing but did add that he was “a bit heavy.”

That was certainly true. At Bangor he’d filled the 124-gallon ferry tank as well as the wing tanks. This brought the airplane’s weight close to the maximum allowed under the special airworthiness certificate issued by the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) for the ferry flight, which was 30 percent above the maximum authorized for an unmodified 172. This is a crucial factor contributing to what happened.

Extra weight robs airplanes of performance in any flight regime. The Cessna 172 isn’t known for its high rate of climb even under ideal conditions. And although the pilot had FAA approval to takeoff at the higher gross weight, his aircraft performance didn’t care.

About three minutes later, the Boston controller transmitted that “it appears you’re having a hard time maintaining altitude. My minimum IFR altitude in your area is three thousand seven hundred.” This transmission clearly indicates the controller’s concern that the pilot was descending rather than climbing to his assigned altitude of 6,000 feet.

The Cessna pilot then replied, “. . . some severe turbulence here . . . I’m, uh, having control difficulties.” The controller asked whether he’d like to return to Bangor, and contacted Approach Control to coordinate the emergency after the pilot agreed.

The pilot established radio contact with Approach at 10:53 a.m. After reading back a clearance direct to the navigation fix to begin his instrument approach, the pilot added that he was “in extreme turbulence with over ninety-degree banks.”

A minute and a half after he reported trying to maintain 2,300 feet msl, radar contact was lost. The last altitude recorded on radar indicated the Skyhawk at 1,200 feet. The first reports of an ELT (emergency locator transmitter) signal came in ten minutes later, barely three minutes before the local fire department called Bangor Tower to report the crash. Most of the airplane was found submerged, making it impossible to confirm that it had accumulated ice, but this seems the likeliest explanation for its rapid descent.

The 77-year-old commercial pilot had more than 14,000 hours of flight experience, including 9,500 in single-engine airplanes and about 2,000 in actual instrument conditions. He was highly regarded by the company hired to arrange the ferry flight, for which he had worked as a contract pilot on other occasions. When he filed his flight plan, he told the briefer that he was aware of cautions for widespread instrument flight conditions, moderate turbulence below 11,000 feet, moderate icing below 13,000 feet, with freezing levels of 2,500 feet and below.

Why did an experienced professional pilot choose to launch in these conditions? To do so required that he ignore two critical limitations: 1) the 172 was not equipped with icing protection, which means that intentional flight into known icing was strictly prohibited, and 2) the special airworthiness certificate issued for his flight by the FAA included the direction to “avoid moderate to severe turbulence.”

The investigation turned up some hints. The pilot had told the Flight Service briefer that he’d been “stuck for a week here.” Two witnesses at the airport recalled his telling them how anxious he was to return to Britain, where his daughter was scheduled to undergo surgery and his wife had recently had an automobile accident. The bad weather had frustrated him to the point of considering leaving the Cessna and flying home commercially.

But he didn’t, and this crash illustrates the deadly consequences of the pilot’s failure to use even a modicum of common sense and good judgment. His airplane was overloaded. Its normally anemic climb rate was further compromised by the additional weight. He could not possibly avoid icing conditions along his route of flight. He knew that structural ice exacts a double penalty on airplanes by increasing weight and destroying lift by disrupting airflow over the wings and flight controls. His airplane had no way to prevent structural icing or remove it once it had formed.

Yet in the face of all those factors clearly indicating need for caution, he succumbed to get-home-itis and paid the ultimate price.

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Mysteries of the Blogosphere

This blogosphere never ceases to amaze me.

I read a book about the final days of WWII combat in the Pacific and published a post on February 15, 2011 titled “Not Just Another Day at Work.” The post connected the events chronicled in the book with a link to a 360-degree panoramic view of the cockpit of a B-29 named the Enola Gay. Col. Paul Tibbets sat in this “office” and on August 6, 1945, dropped the atomic bomb that changed the world forever.

On March 4, 2011, my spam filter nabbed a comment related to this post and held it for moderation. The source of the comment is a website: countrieswithnuclearweapons.com. I’ve never heard of it any more than the website has heard of me. And yet, somehow in the mysterious world of blogging, this site found my post and inserted a comment with a link to my site:

Submitted on 2011/03/04 at 5:01 pm
[…] Britain became the third nuclear power when it successfully detonated an atomic device in October 1952. This video contains some eyewitness accounts and impressive visuals of the destructive power of the H-Bomb. Nice related topic here: http://toshmcintosh.com/2011/02/not-just-another-day-at-work/ […]

There’s an old joke that expresses my initial reaction to receiving this comment:

A reporter is standing on a street corner conducting a human-interest survey for a TV station. (Image from MuppetDanny on MuppetWiki). He stops a well-dressed passerby and asks, “What do you think is the most important invention of the last half century?”

The man pauses for a moment and replies, “I would say the advances in medicine.” He then lists some of the most significant new drugs and surgical procedures. The reporter is impressed with his answer.

The next person, also clean-cut and distinguished, answers the question with, “High tech and computers.” He then lists ten contributions to our daily personal and professional lives as the result of new devices. The reporter is really inspired with this answer.

The trend continues for the next hour or so, and then the sky turns dark, rain threatens, and the reporter still needs one more interview to complete his assignment. The problem is that foot traffic has all but disappeared as pedestrians scurry for shelter from the approaching storm.

But all is not lost when from around the corner appears a well-known panhandler who lives on the streets of downtown. The reporter decides that an interview with him might provide an interesting contrast to the ones he has “in the can.”

As the man approaches with his hand out, the reporter gets a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and holds it up. “This is your lucky day, fella. All you have to do is answer one question.”

The man displays a mouthful of less-than-perfect dentition in a broad smile and accepts the five bucks. “Lay it on me, brotha, ’cause I got the ansa’s.”

“In your opinion, what is the most important invention of the past half century?”

Without a second’s hesitation, the man replies, “That’d have to be the thermos bottle.”

The reporter stands speechless for the first time that day and finally stammers, “Could you explain that?”

“You betcha. When I’s a workin’ man, I’d put hot coffee in it in the mawnin.’ In a couple hours on break, I’d enjoy me some o’ that nice, hot coffee.”

“What’s so impressive about–?”

“But sometimes I’d put cold lemonade in it. In a couple hours I’d be drinkin’ me some, still cold as ice.”

“But, sir, I still don’t understand why you consider that–”

“Doncha see? I mean, how do it know?”

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No Wonder We’re Broke – Redux

Does is seem unreasonable to you that the American public should expect our leaders to be responsible stewards of the billions of dollars entrusted to them? Assuming your answer to that question is, “No,” consider with me for a moment the lunacy represented by the following two egregious examples of a fiscally brain-dead system.

The Commission on Wartime Contracting was established by Congress in 2008 under the model of the Truman Commission, which investigated US government spending during WWII. According to a recent study released by the Commission, corruption and waste have cost the US government billions of reconstruction dollars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The report found that “criminal behavior and blatant corruption” were responsible for much of the waste related to the nearly $200 billion spent since 2002 on reconstruction and other projects in the two countries. It did not give exact figures, but cited the Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction report to Congress in January that found efforts were at clear risk because of poor planning and insufficient oversight. Another estimate in the report found that losses to fraud alone in both war zones could be as high as $12 billion.

“When it comes to oversight of contingency contracting, we’ve been driving beyond the reach of our headlights. Reforms are badly needed,” said the report. “For many years, the government has abdicated its contracting responsibilities — too often using contractors as the default mechanism — without consideration for the resources needed to manage them.”

The commission offers 32 recommendations to improve the situation in both Iraq and Afghanistan (where subcontractors employ some 200,000 people), including a decrease in dependence on private security and an increase in competition between subcontractors to lower prices. It also called for a separate agency to oversee the different contractors currently supervised (very poorly, it would seem) by the State Department, Pentagon and the US Agency for International Development (USAID).

Dust is already gathering on the report, which will fade into history along with the following blatant example of government dysfunction at work.

According to the Government Accountability Office (GAO) February 24th report to the chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, a set of three reports submitted by the Air Force to Congress in 2010 addressing the service’s fighter aircraft structure lacked key data needed to ensure accuracy, and assumptions about developmental programs have since been proven invalid. Conclusions drawn by the Air Force “reflected previously established service plans and strategic level guidance that were dated by the time the reports were issued.”

The original Air Force reports determined that effective management of the Joint Strike Fighter (JSF) program could mitigate the service’s projected fighter aircraft shortfall, and that extending their service life and upgrading existing fighters would be as effective as procuring new fighters at 10 to 15 percent of the cost. They also suggested that procuring so-called “4.5 generation” aircraft would not fulfill the service’s mission of converting to an all-stealth fighter fleet.

Since the Air Force reports were released, the service has announced both good and bad news related to what it projects as a shortfall of 200 fighter aircraft in the mid-2020s. In the near term, that shortfall appears to have been averted because the Air Force’s existing F-16 fleet is in better shape than expected.

The service had predicted that older F-16s would encounter wing cracks and other structural problems that would require them to be retired early, yet new data suggests the aircraft are salvageable. “Air Force officials have revised their projections and now believe that the wing cracking problem is not as severe as originally projected,” the GAO report states. “As a result, they believe that the near-term fighter shortfall has been mitigated without an additional investment.” The report adds that wing crack data has not yet been certified by the service’s Fleet Viability Board.

Uh-oh. Another report is due and a crisis looms. How can the report be ignored (as usual) if it isn’t submitted?

On the other hand, the Air Force intends to make up the fighter jet shortfall entirely through the acquisition of the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter (JSF), which has experienced significant delays and cost overruns since the Air Force reports were released a year ago. The program was reshuffled last May, when Vice Adm. David Venlet took over as JSF program executive officer, and the Air Force is now planning to acquire fewer F-35s than anticipated in the short term. The GAO report states that the Air Force needs a fully updated JSF baseline in order to make “better-informed aircraft investment decisions.” More information on the cost of maintaining existing fighter aircraft versus procuring new F-15s and F-16s is also necessary to validate the Air Force reports, according to GAO.

You can think of this as analogous to deciding about what to do with an older model automobile that has served you well but needs some work. Is it more cost effective to fix it up or buy a new one? And relative to the decisions needed with regard to upgrading the USAF fighter force, you have to choose between a completely different new car with a lot more options, and the same make and model you have now, but a new one just off the assembly line. Here’s how that plays out with fighters.

The Air Force estimated it would cost $9 million to modernize and upgrade existing F-16s, which would extend their life cycle an additional 2,000 flight hours ($4,500 per additional hour). In contrast, procuring a brand-new F-16 with a projected life cycle of 8,000 hours would cost $55 million ($6,875 per hour). It’s a straightforward question: Does spending $2,375 more per hour for a new F-16 make sense?

The answer, however, is a bit more complicated because GAO calculations compared to those of the Air force show a narrower gap between the cost per additional flight hour for the two options under consideration. The GAO numbers indicate that modernizing existing systems would be significantly more efficient than procuring new fighter aircraft. Even so, after all this reporting going on, we should be able to reconcile the data and come to an informed decision, right?

Don’t hold your breath. The GAO report cautions that the calculation is based on the Air Force’s projected acquisition costs — not experimental data — “and does not represent a rigorous, comprehensive cost estimate by GAO.”

Wonderful. That must foretell another report. And in the midst of this fiasco, an even more significant issue sits like the 500-pound gorilla in the room: the GAO report only addresses the option of purchasing new F-16s rather than upgrading older ones. The current reality is far more troublesome. We have committed to retiring all F-16s and F-15s and replacing them with the F-35 JSF, the most expensive single military procurement package in US history, way over budget and way behind schedule.

But never fear. What we can afford to do is never a factor. As in all things fiscal, we’ll just raise the debt ceiling and borrow more in a never-ending cycle of irresponsibility.

The acronym for this is SNAFU. I won’t explain what it means. Not because this is a family website, but because you probably know without any help from me.

Posted in Rants and Raves | Leave a comment

Wall of Indifference

If you have spent any time on this website reading posts in the Rants and Raves Logbook, you are probably aware of my personal opinions about United States policy and attendant actions in the Middle East. And if you have found any of these posts offensive, you might want to stop here.

But if you are willing to take an up-close-and-personal look at something that is eating the heart of America from the inside out, I encourage you to keep reading. And as you do, put yourself in the shoes of one man for long enough to then step back and ask yourself a few simple questions.

Is this really the America I can be proud of? Can I hold my head high to be a citizen of this once great nation? Am I content to go about my daily life and allow the flesh and blood of a few to be sacrificed on my behalf behind a wall of indifference?

If you answer “Yes”  to any of those questions, God help us.

Lt. Gen. John Kelly, who lost son to war, says U.S. largely unaware of sacrifice.

By Greg Jaffe, Washington Post Staff Writer, Wednesday, March 2, 2011; 12:00 AM. Staff researcher Julie Tate contributed to this report.

Before he addressed the crowd that had assembled in the St. Louis Hyatt Regency ballroom last November, Lt. Gen. John F. Kelly had one request. “Please don’t mention my son,” he asked the Marine Corps officer introducing him.

Four days earlier, 2nd Lt. Robert M. Kell , 29, had stepped on a land mine while leading a platoon of Marines in southern Afghanistan. He was killed instantly.

Without once referring to his son’s death, the general delivered a passionate and at times angry speech about the military’s sacrifices and its troops’ growing sense of isolation from society.

“Their struggle is your struggle,” he told the ballroom crowd of former Marines and local business people. “If anyone thinks you can somehow thank them for their service, and not support the cause for which they fight – our country – these people are lying to themselves. More important, they are slighting our warriors and mocking their commitment to this nation.”

Kelly is the most senior U.S. military officer to lose a son or daughter in Iraq or Afghanistan. He was giving voice to a growing concern among soldiers and Marines: The American public is largely unaware of the price its military pays to fight the United States’ distant conflicts. Less than 1 percent of the population serves in uniform at a time when the country is engaged in one of the longest periods of sustained combat in its history.

President Obama devoted only six sentences to the war in Afghanistan in his State of the Union  address in January. The 25-second standing ovation that lawmakers lavished on the troops lasted almost as long as the president’s war remarks.

Kelly has largely shunned public attention since his speech and his son’s death. He discussed his speech and his son to provide insight into the lives and the burdens of military families.

“We are only one of 5,500 American families who have suffered the loss of a child in this war,” he said in an e-mail. “The death of my boy simply cannot be made to seem any more tragic than the others.”

On Tuesday, Defense Secretary Robert M. Gates said he had nominated Kelly to be his senior military assistant, a powerful position by virtue of its minute-by-minute proximity to the Pentagon chief. He would serve as a key liaison between the defense secretary and the top brass.

As in many military families, Kelly’s two sons followed their father into the Marine Corps. The three Kelly men have participated in 11 combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan over the past decade.

As one retired Marine Corps general noted in a condolence letter to Kelly a few days after his son’s death: “Service to and sacrifice for the nation have become a legacy affair for a relatively small number of families.”

Living on luck

A few days after graduating from Florida State University in 2003, Robert Kelly surprised his family by enlisting in the Marine Corps. His elder brother, John, had joined as an officer two years earlier. Their father was leading Marines in Iraq.

The war was something new in early 2003, and like most Americans, Robert had spent the spring glued to the live television coverage of U.S. tanks converging on Baghdad.

One year later, Robert was a private first class fighting house to house in the battle for Fallujah, the largest and bloodiest urban battle for U.S. troops since Vietnam.

On the night the offensive began, the elder Kelly came home early from work and urged his wife to steel herself for the worst. “Robert is right in the middle of it,” he told her.

Robert emerged from the three-week assault physically unscathed, but shaken by the violence. Six Marines in his 150-man company were killed, three dozen were wounded and the rest suffered a psychological toll. By this point, the war was no longer being beamed home to the United States on cable television.

“It was weird to read mail again, a reminder that other people’s lives go on while I am here,” he wrote in a letter dated Nov. 19, 2004, to his best friend from high school. “Things have not been going so well. I am having a lot of trouble dealing with this [expletive]. It is hard to explain right now. I just want to go home and see my family and friends. I really want to sit down with my dad and talk.”

Robert told his father that he was especially bothered by an incident in which his platoon was taking fire from insurgents in an underground bunker. The Marines’ interpreter screamed at them to surrender. When they continued to shoot, Robert’s unit used explosives to blow them out of the bunker.

“He mentioned that it must have been a horrible way to die,” his father recalled. “It wasn’t as clean as he thought it would be. He felt bad about the whole thing, and I told him that was human.”

In 2008, Robert moved from the enlisted to the officer ranks and was commissioned as a second lieutenant. Because his father was deployed as commander of U.S. forces in western Iraq, Robert’s brother administered the oath. The change meant Robert would be responsible for the lives of three-dozen Marines.

Robert, who inherited his father’s prominent nose, bushy eyebrows and sly smile, was seven years older than most second lieutenants and one of the few platoon leaders in his brigade with combat experience.

Before his platoon deployed last September, Robert sent a blast e-mail to his friends and family. If people were wondering what to put in care packages, batteries, wet wipes and protein bars were best, he wrote. A simple letter from home was “always welcome.”

Mostly, though, he wanted his friends and family to care about a war that had largely faded from the public’s consciousness. The midterm congressional elections were only a month away. Hardly any candidates were talking about Afghanistan. Less than 2 percent of voters rated it their top issue.

“Try to keep your eye on the news,” Robert wrote from Camp Pendleton, Calif. “It will be good to know that people are paying attention to what the 32 Marines with me will be accomplishing.”

Robert’s platoon occupied an isolated patrol base in Sangin district, an area where British forces had been losing ground to the Taliban. Soldiers and Marines at larger established bases speak to their families almost daily on cell phones. At Robert’s isolated patrol base, there was no cell phone coverage or Internet service, just “ammo and big rats,” he said in a rare letter home.

Throughout the fall, his 1,000-man battalion took part in some of the most intense fighting of the 10-year-old war, killing dozens of Taliban and slowly pushing them back. Robert’s father followed his son’s battalion over the Pentagon’s classified Internet.

“I know you guys have taken some licks in the last few days,” the elder Kelly wrote in a letter dated Oct. 15. As a platoon commander, Robert was now responsible for every patrol that left the base. Kelly knew it was an enormous burden.

“Robert, you will likely lose one or more of your precious Marines if you haven’t already,” the elder Kelly continued. “Do not let the men mope or dwell on the loss. Do not let them ever enjoy the killing or hate their enemy. It is impossible to take the emotion out of it, but try and keep it as impersonal and mechanical as you can. The Taliban have their job to do and we have ours. That’s it. Combat is so inhumane; you must help your men maintain their humanity as well as their sense of perspective and proportion.”

On the day Kelly mailed the letter to his son, Lance Cpl. Colin Faust, one of Robert’s Marines, stepped on a land mine and lost part of his left leg. The next day, a sergeant in Robert’s platoon was killed and a lance corporal lost his right arm when a land mine detonated under them.

On Oct. 19, Robert’s commanders brought satellite phones to his remote base so he and his Marines could talk to their increasingly anxious spouses. In 2007, Robert had married his girlfriend, Heather, who had asked him to a “Kappa Krush” sorority party during his senior year of college. She had stuck with him through boot camp, an Iraq tour and a seven-month sea tour in 2006. This was their first deployment as a married couple.

Robert’s call from Sangin kept being dropped, so Heather ran out to the driveway hoping for better reception. He quickly told her to call his father and ask him to check in on two of his Marines who had just arrived at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda.

The elder Kelly and Robert’s sister, Kathleen, had been making almost daily trips to visit Marines from Robert’s unit. Second Lt. Cameron West, one of Robert’s closest friends from his battalion, was still in intensive care when Kelly first visited him. West’s right leg was gone and his eye was bandaged shut. He had just woken after being unconscious for six days.

Heather, who had been to West’s apartment at Camp Pendleton, mentioned that he liked John Wayne memorabilia. So in late October, the elder Kelly bought him a fleece John Wayne blanket for his hospital bed.

In his last calls home, on Oct. 29, Robert sought to ease his family’s growing worry. His platoon had flown into one of the larger forward operating bases to attend a memorial service for one of his Marines who had been killed a week earlier. Robert pressed his mother and sister for updates on his Marines at Bethesda.

He even managed to reach 2nd Lt. James Byler, a good friend who had lost his legs in a bomb blast and was still in intensive care. A nurse brought a phone into Byler’s room, and Robert told him he’d soon be back doing CrossFit, a workout popular with Marines. Byler let out a groggy laugh.

Robert couldn’t reach his father but left him a brief phone message. Before he flew back to his tiny patrol base, he dashed off a final e-mail to his wife. “I always think I do not want to call you because I will be homesick, but I end up doing it and leave the phone tent with a smile on my face,” Robert wrote. “I love you so much and appreciate you being a great sport in all of this craziness. One month down and a lot of months to go, but I am doing what I want to do with my life.”

About 12 hours later, the elder Kelly e-mailed his extended family in Boston, preparing them for the possibility that Robert might be maimed or killed. Kelly knew that Robert went out on almost every patrol with his men through mine-filled fields. One of the Marines at Bethesda told him that Robert was “living on luck.”

“I write you all to just let you know he’s in the thick of it and to keep him in your thoughts,” Kelly typed. “We are doing a Novena a minute down here and there is no end in sight.”

On Oct. 31, Kelly sent a second e-mail to his eldest sister, the family matriarch. “I am sweating bullets,” he confided. “Pray. Pray. Pray. He’s such a good boy . . . and Marine.”

Fight to bring us home

At 6:10 a.m. on Nov. 9, Gen. Joseph F. Dunford Jr., one of Kelly’s oldest and dearest friends, rang the doorbell at his home in the Washington Navy Yard. The instant Kelly saw Dunford, dressed in his service uniform, he knew Robert was dead.

As a Marine Corps general, Kelly had spoken with scores of grieving parents. He had written hundreds of condolence letters. In them, he tried to explain why the loss of a beloved child was meaningful, noble and worth the family’s pain.

“I guess over time I had convinced myself that I could imagine what it would be like to lose a son or daughter,” he said in an interview. “You try to imagine it so that you can write the right kind of letters or form the right words to try to comfort. But you can’t even come close. It is unimaginable.”

Months later, Kelly would struggle to describe the pain he felt on his front porch. “It was disorienting, almost debilitating,” he wrote in an e-mail. “At the same time my mind went through in detail every memory and image I had of Robert from the delivery room to the voice mail he’d left a few days before he died. It was as graphic as if I was watching a video. It really did seem like hours but was little more than a second or so.”

Kelly composed himself and moved down his front steps to speak with Dunford’s wife and walk his friends into the house. His wife, Karen, was still asleep. “I then did the most difficult thing I’ve done in my life,” Kelly said. “I walked upstairs, woke Karen to the news and broke her heart.”

Four days later, Kelly stood in front of a microphone in St. Louis. He saw his speech there as a chance to remind people that the United States was still at war.

“We are in a life-and-death struggle, but not our whole country,” he told the crowd. “One percent of Americans are touched by this war. Then there is a much smaller club of families who have given all.”

He spoke of the anger that some combat veterans feel toward the war’s opponents. “They hold in disdain those who claim to support them but not the cause that takes their innocence, their limbs and even their lives,” he said.

Later, he clarified in an interview that he is opposed to indifference, not dissent. “I just think if you are against the war, you should somehow try to change it,” he said. “Fight to bring us home.”

Kelly’s concerns have been echoed of late by generals, lawmakers and top Pentagon civilians. “I worry that we could wake up one day and that the American people will no longer know us, and we won’t know them” Adm. Mike Mullen, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, wrote in January.

Former congressman Ike Skelton (D-Mo.) recently lamented to Foreign Policy magazine that “those who protect us are psychologically divorced from those who are being protected.”

He’d want you to have it

In mid-February, Kelly received word that Lance Cpl. Sebastian Gallegos, one of his son’s Marines from Afghanistan, had declined to accept the Purple Heart he had earned. Gallegos’s right arm was severed in an October bomb blast that had killed his squad leader, Sgt. Ian M. Tawney, 25.

The 21-year-old Marine couldn’t fathom accepting an honor for an event that had taken his friend’s life. Gallegos was lying next to a mortally wounded Tawney as the helicopter left Sangin. “I told him I loved him and watched him die,” Gallegos recalled. A few weeks later, Tawney’s wife gave birth to a baby girl.

Kelly offered to fly to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, where Gallegos was being treated, to present the award. Gallegos told him it wasn’t necessary.

“Robert would want you to have it,” Kelly insisted over the phone.

The ceremony was held in a prefabricated building on the hospital campus. A few minutes before it began, Kelly asked Gallegos to look at a picture of Robert that had been taken on the morning he died. Robert was talking to another Marine and grimacing. “It is the only picture I can ever remember of him in which he wasn’t smiling,” Kelly said.

He wanted to get the name of the Marine in the picture and ask him why Robert was so irritated. Kelly knew his son as a happy, funny and gentle young man. Now he was trying to better understand him as the battle-hardened combat leader that he had become, he said. Gallegos passed along the name.

The ceremony began around noon. About a dozen of Gallegos’s family members took seats on leather couches facing an American flag and a red Marine Corps banner. The women all wore black dresses and heels. Gallegos’s father, a former Army Special Forces sergeant, wore a new straw cowboy hat, polished cowboy boots and a tie.

The official ceremony took about 30 seconds. Kelly and Gallegos stood facing each other at the front of the room. The young Marine looked at the ground as Kelly read the award citation and pinned the small purple-and-gold heart to his camouflage uniform. The general gripped Gallegos’s left hand and squeezed his shoulder, just above his stump. Gallegos’s wife beamed with pride.

After the ceremony, Gallegos’s family formed a huddle around their Marine. Gallegos, who had passed up a scholarship offer from Columbia University to enlist, had 12 more months of rehabilitation and then he planned to go to college somewhere in Texas. He wanted to stay close to his family, he said.

His wife wrapped an arm around his waist, put her head on his shoulder and rested a neatly manicured hand on his chest. For the first time that day, Gallegos looked happy and relaxed. He was finally enjoying the moment that he had resisted for months.

Kelly watched from across the room. “They are kids,” he whispered. “Look at them. They are just kids.”

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Ethernet Cables and Dinosaurs

As mentioned in recent posts, I’ve had problems with two purchases that were supposed to be “toaster-easy” to set up and use: an AppleTV2 and a Keurig B-70 single-cup coffee brewer. Both have cost me hours of headache trying to figure out why they didn’t work as advertised.

At the moment, both appear to have abandoned their reluctance to perform, but that’s more than likely a temporary condition. In the meantime, another problem has risen to the occasion to make sure that I can’t put the bottle of aspirin back in the medicine cabinet.

On weekends, my wife and I often visit close friends who own a ranch in the Texas Hill Country near Fredericksburg. We stay in a guest house that has all the essential modern conveniences. Unless I consider going online indispensable, that is. But since I’m not (usually) banished from the main house during visits, I can use the Internet connection there with my laptop.

Their service provider supplies broadband through a wireless signal to an antenna and from there through an Ethernet cable into a downstairs office and art studio. Last year I connected a spare cable to their router, so it’s been a simple matter to plug in whenever I feel the need to check email or do something with the website. That means, of course, that access to the Internet is not available in the early mornings or late evenings when I often spend time online at home.

On this latest visit, using the downstairs office proved to be inconvenient. The spare cable was missing from the router, and in any event, I felt that I’d be intruding by camping out there on this particular weekend. The upstairs office was not being used, but the computer there was direct-wired to a single cable from the wall. Rather than switching cables back and forth, I decided to purchase two more Ethernet cables and a splitter, which would allow me to plug in this weekend and on future visits with minimum disruption to the downstairs office activities of our hosts.

Shopping in Fredericksburg reflects the typical limitations of smaller towns, but I knew WalMart had an electronics section. There I found the cables, but no splitter. An employee didn’t know where I might buy one in town, and I wasn’t eager to spend the time hunting. Below the cables on the shelves, however, another solution caught my attention.

We have a long-standing and very comfortable friendship with our hosts. I’ve often joked with them about their failure to provide wireless all the way out to the guest house, or more realistically, in the main house so I can be in the family room with everyone else as we share time together kicking back and each of us doing our own thing. When I compared the cost of the two cables and the unknown cost of a splitter, if I could find one, gifting our friends with a new wireless router seemed like a reasonable alternative.

That decision introduced the next problem, deciding which one to buy. The store had routers from four or five manufacturers and more than one model per manufacturer. And although I should know better by now, I elected to ask for assistance rather than conduct research in advance. Here’s the paraphrased spiel I received as the WalMart employee described three shelves full of routers:

“I assume you want a router that works, so ignore the bottom shelf. Any of these other choices should do the job. At the right end of both the upper shelves, you will find less expensive, slower speeds, and shorter range. As you move to your left, more expensive, faster speeds and longer range. The routers on the very top shelf are your best bet.”

Okay, even a high-tech-challenged senior citizen can understand that, so I began reading the descriptions on the boxes until a customer standing nearby who had overheard the employee’s spiel told me I probably wouldn’t need one of the more expensive models. She had installed a basic one in her church, and it was handling multiple computers on the network throughout the building with no problems. But after comparing the specific differences in features listed on the boxes, I elected to purchase the most expensive of the routers on the top shelf just in case the increased range might reach as far as the guest house. Silly me.

Imagine my surprise, therefore, to discover that with the new wireless network up and running, when sitting in the family area of the main house with only two rooms between me and the one with the router, I barely had one bar of signal strength. And after five minutes of waiting, I hadn’t been able to download the home page of my website. So much for what I expected. One room closer to the router I still had only one bar, but the download speed increased enough to be  acceptable.

Now what? Keep the thing and accept the demonstrated real-world limitations, return it, or contact the manufacturer’s customer support for troubleshooting? I chose the last option, and of course there was no phone number, just online support. This put me in the position of having to provide a credit card number in advance to pay a flat fee, refunded if they determined the problem was due to a defective unit. I blew that option off and used my weak but usable connection to do some research online.

Turns out that the Linksys E2000 router has been rated by experts as being among the top three, and higher than one that costs over twice as much. Customer reviews indicated mostly positive results, but a few wouldn’t have recommended the router for anything other than a doorstop, and it needed more weight to do that well. A number of these comprehensive reviews brought up serious deficiencies.

No matter how much the manufacturer wants to produce a sleek product that looks cool on your desk, you can’t ignore the laws of physics: wireless signals work better with external antennas. Lots of customers found the demonstrated range of the E2000 wireless network to be disappointing, and extended range is exactly why I purchased the most expensive model in that particular line of routers on the shelves.

Experience with customer support was described by some customers as pathetic, and in one case unfathomable when numerous company representatives refused to provide free service. They stated that the clock on the complimentary 90-day period began ticking on his router’s date of manufacture, not when he purchased it. One representative explained that the policy was to encourage buyers to purchase the routers online with the company rather than from third-party vendors. I’m not sure I trust that description of the conversation as being an accurate, but my inability to obtain free support within two hours of purchase didn’t leave me with a warm fuzzy.

One reviewer spent a few hours of troubleshooting with customer service before being told that he needed to buy one of their more expensive models. Another reviewer said customer service finally acknowledged that he had a defective unit and sent him a new one. That was encouraging, at least until I read that large numbers of these routers are listed on the market as being refurbished, indicating the possibility that the E2000 has a poor quality-control record.

A reviewer compared this router to the Dlink DIR 655, which he said costs less and outperforms it on every criteria. It probably wouldn’t for me, of course, because that’s just the way it is with anything I buy. At any rate, the bottom line from here is that I returned the E2000 and will probably go back to my original plan to plug in at the existing router downstairs or use a splitter upstairs.

If you’ve read this far, you might well be wondering why I just don’t provide my own portable wireless capability for my laptop. The reasons are very simple.

I currently pay too much for a cell phone to justify the amount that I use it. I pay too much for an Internet connection to my house that I certainly use a lot, but it isn’t portable. To gain the portability, I have to sign up for another service and pay even more, hard to justify when I only need to use it every other month or so.

And yes, I’m a cultural dinosaur who doesn’t own a smart phone because I’m not addicted to Web access and tech toys. I don’t need to be connected 24/7 to sports, news, facebook, twitter, YouTube, the stock market, ad nauseum, and I haven’t bought into the “there’s an app for that” frenzy.

And I’d really appreciate it if some enterprising soul would create an infinitely long Ethernet cable.

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ABNA Round One Aftermath

My friend and fellow writer Deanna Roy warned me about the forums associated with the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. I think her caution was not to participate by adding any comments. If I’m wrong about that, and she said, “Don’t even go there,” I’ve already ignored that advice.

The first thread I visited began with the following comment:

I didn’t make it. I think the fact that this award’s first round was based on the ‘pitch’ and not the actual writing abilities tells me this is not an award for serious fiction. One would think that an award would be given to those who write good literary fiction. No sour grapes here, but if you look at the previous two years’ winners, you would see that their books were not serious literary fiction (but detective novel types).

I don’t know about you, but in spite of the writer’s words, that sounds really sour to me. The rules were clearly established well in advance, and the contest was good enough for the author of this comment to enter. But now, using only the pitch to determine who advances past Round One is flawed because it tells the judges nothing about the entrant’s writing abilities. And, by the way, this whole deal isn’t really for serious writers. Which the commenter is, of course. The next six comments:

You people have missed the point! The whole contest is not to select a winner but to get 10,000 folks to self-publish using Create Space. There is a winner, Create Space.

That was my thoughts too [I love the displayed mastery of grammar!]. I think this is not an award – but a publicity stunt where Amazon, Createspace and Penguin get free publicity with all the hype.

ABNA is a worthy award to receive and a worthy contest to pursue. It’s not a publicity stunt, although I agree that it’s set up as a win-win-win-win situation, for Amazon, Createspace (especially), Penguin, and the writers.

Agents go off queries. This is no different.

C’mon, this is the first Whinepalooza thread. Let the whiner whine and support the whining, no matter how unreasonable the whining is.

I concur. That my steaming turd of a pitch advanced my excretory opus to the next round is clear and unequivocal proof – a “smoking fart flare”, if you will – that this entire charade is a capitalist, quasi-populist charade designed to fatten the coffers of the ruling class while cruelly oppressing working-class belletrists whose beautifully avant-garde and daringly plotless masterpieces languish in richly undeserved obscurity, denied their rightful chance to bask in the brief sideways glances of a completely indifferent public who have had their taste and abilty to appreciate True Art mercilessly crushed by those damned liberals and their pathetically watered-down excuse for a godless education system.

That last one offered a truly LOL moment, so I quit reading there.

I realize that the number of entrants who visit forums and leave comments probably represents a relatively small portion of the total. But even so, I am truly amazed at the frequency of complaints about having to submit a pitch. It’s as if these folks are oblivious to the existence of the query letter and the role it plays in working your way around the spike strips lying across the road to publication.

Does the fact that a pitch convinced a judge mean the writer’s manuscript is worth considering? Does the fact that a pitch didn’t convince a judge mean the writer’s manuscript isn’t worth considering? Do either of those questions really matter? No, no, and no.

But what does matter is that a writer has the ability to slip out of the creative fog long enough to shake hands with reality. Earth to these whining writers: access to the real world does not require a secret decoder ring.

The tier-one highway to publication is agented. Writing a successful query letter is universally considered to be a prerequisite for obtaining an agent. Agenting isn’t a science. Agents make mistakes by rejecting worthy manuscripts and on occasion accepting some that ultimately fail to recover the advance and publishing costs. Agents artificially restrict what kinds of manuscripts make it to editors at publishing houses. Agents serve as the gatekeepers to traditional publishing no matter how dysfunctional and unfair that may seem, and any writer unable to accept that needs to take another highway to publication.

Deanna was right, no matter what level of caution she offered. From now on I’ll stay away from the forums . . . or at the very least not admit that I’ve been there.

 

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Grenade in the Room – Part 6

My first post in the Writer’s Desk Logbook likened broaching the topic of point-of-view (pov) in a room full of writers to tossing a grenade under the table. Four subsequent posts have expanded the subject with personal observations on how some of my fellow writers and I deal with pov in our novels. This post addresses a recent discussion and serves to illustrate well the original point I was trying to make. Names will not be used to protect the innocent and guilty alike.

The novel in question is written in third person, and the first two chapters clearly signal (to me, at least) the author’s intention to use limited-single pov. In a previous “Grenade” post I define my use of that term to avoid any misunderstanding caused by semantics.

The third chapter begins in the pov of a second character, but remains limited. As previously defined, I now conclude that the author intends to use limited-multiple pov. Based on the unfolding story, the two characters shown in pov so far are both “worthy” of pov status, but one is obviously the main character and the other will serve in a supporting role.

But then something occurs that undermines my interpretation of what I will be reading as the novel progresses. After a few pages of the third chapter, the first sentence in a paragraph clearly shifts from the pov of character #2 back to character #1, remains there for a few pages, then shifts back to character #2. These pov transitions occur without a scene or chapter break.

Up to the point at which I presented my review about halfway through the meeting, only one other person had mentioned pov. But in the open discussion following individual reviews, it appeared again in the form of a comment that what the author had done wasn’t a problem. Justification for that statement was offered with the example of Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier, in which pov shifts between characters occur frequently, sometimes within a single paragraph.

No one can argue that Frazier’s treatment of pov in any way limited the novel’s success (about three million copies sold worldwide and a companion movie that grossed twice its budget). And that is so not the point. What follows is an expansion of my personal opinion as expressed during the meeting in question.

For unpublished writers to justify something in their novels by pointing out that author X did the same thing is totally irrelevant. Any published novel may well have succeeded in spite of anything the author did that might be considered unusual. I submit that anyone who can write with Frazier’s skill need not worry much about what other authors do or don’t do. I also contend that few writers I know can pen a Cold Mountain. That doesn’t mean we can’t write very good novels, and some of us might even have a chance at publication. But in this specific instance, nothing about the pov treatment in the novel being discussed compared with Frazier’s.

Writers hate to be confronted with “rules.” The most common justification for ignoring what is generally considered to be conventional in any structural aspect of fiction is, “If it works, do it.” And that statement is worthless, because it avoids confronting reality.

Charles Frazier may have begun his novel with no clue as to what pov was, much less how to control it. The internal voice of his muse may have guided his fingers to the keyboard without a single conscious thought or awareness as to what he was doing. Anyone who believes that will undoubtedly conclude that they can do the same thing. And maybe they can.

It may also be that Frazier knew exactly what he was doing and did it brilliantly. It probably goes without saying that I prefer this explanation, which brings me back to the point about the novel being discussed in the meeting and my comments to the author.

I think most writers agree that standards vary based on whether a given work is considered literary or genre (category) fiction, and that the publishing industry demands from any writer some defined level of mastery over key structural elements of the craft. I contend that whatever the minimum is, few if any writers reach or exceed it inadvertently.

My questions to the author, therefore, asked, “What does the pov treatment in these pages do for your novel? How does it enhance your story?” And I don’t know this for a fact, but my opinion is that these pov switches were unintentional, and careless control of pov that results in what appear to be random transitions between characters does not serve fiction well. Even if they were intended, the question remains as to their purpose at those specific moments in the story.

Some reviewers might try to explain them as being indicative of omniscient pov. The problem with that assessment is that throughout the submitted pages, the pov treatment remains limited to the logical perceptions of a participant in the story and displays none of the characteristics of an omniscient narrator.

All of this, of course, supports my original point: your very next action after mentioning pov in a room filled with writers should be to duck.

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Wordfight at the ABNA Corral – Round Two

Who woulda thunk it?

The Second Round of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest began today with announcement of the 1000 entries each in the Young Adult and General Fiction categories that advanced from the maximum of 5000 per category accepted for the First Round.

Entries were judged based solely on the Pitch, in which the writer has a maximum of 300 words to capture the attention of Amazon’s editors based upon originality of idea, overall strength of the pitch, and the quality of writing.

Between now and March 13, 2011, expert reviewers, including Amazon editors and at least one Amazon Top Reviewer, will judge the Excerpts for each entry, consisting of the first 3000-5000 words of the manuscript. Each Excerpt will be rated on a scale of 1 to 5 on each of the following criteria:

  1. Overall Strength of Excerpt
  2. Prose/Style
  3. Plot/Hook
  4. Originality of Idea

Each Second Round Excerpt will receive two reviews, and the top 250 entries based on the average Overall Strength of Excerpt score will advance to the Quarter-Finals.

So now the second waiting period begins. I am frankly surprised to still be standing, and at this moment in time, the emotional challenge is to maintain control of the fantasy demon who so easily can take control and fill my brain with images of award ceremonies.

Back on Earth, I predict that I have little chance of making it past the Second Round because the structure of my novel delays appearance of the main character. He plays no part in the first 5000 words, and although this is relatively common in mysteries (and especially thrillers), reviewers may find absence of the main character to be a negative factor and have difficulty scoring my excerpt well enough to compete for one of the 250 entries that advance to the Quarter-Finals.

I’m totally guessing here, but my chances will probably depend on a single question: Do the first 5000 words create within reviewers a compelling curiosity to find out what happens next? If the antagonist, the murder victim, and the situation don’t accomplish that, come March 13th I’ll have earned a spot in ABNA Boot Hill.

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Status Report 14 – The Numbers Game of Blogging

The blog known as “The Shadow” continues to follow me around. Like a shadow. But that’s true even on cloudy days, so what’s up with that?

The answer to this question is very simple: it’s become a part of me, and somewhere in the back of my mind I remain connected to it even when concentrating on other things.

My original assumptions shortly after installing the Count per Day plugin remain unchanged. Frequent additions to content generate visitor activity, and in the last few weeks, links to this site have appeared on other sites for the first time.

I mentioned one example in a previous post in which another participant in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest quoted part of my post on the statistical chances of winning. The second instance occurred more recently with my Visitor Stories post “Koga’s Zero” by Jim Reardon. Within 24 hours of publication, seven different websites “found” the post and connected to it with a “continue reading” link to the specific page for that post on this site. All of these sites had to do with the Alaskan Archipelago, the official name for the islands of the Alaska Panhandle, also known as the Aleutians, where the Zero crash landed during WWII.

This status report is post number 173. Number 174 is “in the holding pattern” for the Writer’s Desk Logbook and will revisit the topic of handling point-of-view in fiction with “Grenade in the Room – Part 6.”

The following screen shots were taken this morning. To view them in closer detail, click on the image, then use your back button to return to this page.

“Front page displays” refers to the Home Page, and the numbers continually indicate that most visitors initially arrive there as expected.

“Single Ship (Miscellaneous Topics)” refers to the “about page”  for that logbook (or category) that explains what posts in that logbook are about.

The post titled “Blog Backstory” continues to rack up the visits and remains the most popular post on the site. I still have no idea why.

“- Blogbook (Category) -” refers to the archive where all posts for that logbook are shown in excerpt form with links to the full text version.

In the past few weeks, I’ve noted an interesting development in the operation of Akismet, the spam filter. As of this morning, 1,924 spam have been caught, most of which I never see. Some get through, but they are all held in a spam queue for evaluation. The numbers appearing in the queue have recently increased, and the vast majority of these are in a language (or languages) I cannot identify.

I realize that most of this junk comes from automated systems that pump it out by the millions worldwide every day, and the source behind it cares not if it arrives at a site whose moderator can’t even identify the language, much less understand it. But my curiosity still wonders why now, 10 or so per day, in these one or two languages?

Maybe I’ll sic The Shadow on the mystery and get to the bottom of it.

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