American Legion Post 134 meets for lunch the second Thursday of every month at the Petite Auberge Restaurant in the Toco Hills Shopping Center in Atlanta, Georgia.

American Legion is an organization of U. S. Military veterans that share the ideals of service and patriotism.  If you are serving or have served in the military during war, you may be eligible for membership.  For more information  contact us . 

Next Post Meeting  
Date: Thursday, September 9, 2010
Location: Petite Auberge Restaurant
Toco Hills Shopping Center
2935 North Druid Hills Road Atlanta, Georgia
Program:  James Walters, GA National Cemetery / Wreaths Across America

Future Programs:
October: Col Brent Bracewell, Georgia Army Aviation Officer
November: Charles Shepherd, D-Day
December: Holiday Party

Please join us in this FLY THE FLAG campaign and PLEASE forward this Email immediately to everyone in your address book asking them to also forward it.  
If you forward this email to least 11 people and each of those people do the same ... you get the idea.
 
THE PROGRAM:
 
On Saturday, September 11th, 2010, an American flag should be displayed outside every home, apartment, office, and store in the United States . Every individual should make it their duty to display an American flag on this ninth anniversary of one our country's worst tragedies. We do this honor of those who lost their lives on 9/11, their families, friends and loved ones who continue to endure the pain, and those who today are fighting at home and abroad to preserve our cherished freedoms.
 
In the days, weeks and months following 9/11, our country was bathed in American flags as citizens mourned the incredible losses and stood shoulder-to-shoulder against terrorism. Sadly, those flags have all but disappeared. Our patriotism pulled us through some tough times and it shouldn't take another attack to galvanize us in solidarity. Our American flag is the fabric of our country and together we can prevail over terrorism of all kinds.
 
Action Plan:
 
So, here's what we need you to do ...
 
(1) Forward this email to everyone you know (at least 11 people). Please don't be the one to break this chain. Take a moment to think back to how you felt on 9/11 and let those sentiments guide you.
 
(2) Fly an American flag of any size on 9/11. Honestly, Americans should fly the flag year-round, but if you don't, then at least make it a priority on this day.
 
Thank you for your participation. God Bless You and God Bless America !!!

Ray Swaim is partly responsible for this blog. After the August Post meeting, he asked if I had travel plans.  I didn’t.  He did.  That night I hit the photo albums.  I found a collection of shots of Munich and environs.  That did it. I was off to Recall Land! That took me back about three decades.  Want to go along with me? 

My wife Mary and I were on our way back to Amsterdam after hoofing around Bavaria.  We had Eurail passes and decided to avoid the big cities during the last three days of our European jaunt.  We picked Nijmegen, just over the border from Germany, for our first night’s stop. We thought about drifting over to Arnhem for the next day; instead, we trained to nearby Eindhoven.  All three places had been the site of the bloody WW II battle detailed in A BRIDGE TOO FAR by Cornelius Ryan.  

            We ended up in a battle, too, but of a far different and rather amusing kind. 

            Eindhoven was hot, unseasonably so.  We were lodged in a bed and breakfast spot which featured a Rube Goldberg contraption for showering.  Our endless walking had left us not only weary but also grimy-sweaty.  It was in the Eindhoven Tourist Information Bureau that we found the flyer advertising a sauna.  We checked on the location, the cost, the facilities.  The answers were all in our favor.  Relief seemed in sight.  We rode a city bus for 40 minutes, accepted the driver’s directions, and headed anxiously for the sauna. 

            It was closed for the day! 

            The same bus driver picked us up for the return trip, listened to our disappointment, and promised to help.  He did.  We rode another bus in a different 40 minute direction and were deposited a block from The Three Star Sauna. 

A large sized, mustachioed Dutchman, resplendent in a white uniform, greeted us.  He smiled as he listened to our plea to let us use the swimming pool, the Turkish bath, the whirlpool, the lounge, the sauna.  We apologized for not having swim caps.  He smiled again and said, “No need.  Everything here is naked.” 

We gasped. 

            We had come too far, sweated too much, needed water therapy too badly to turn away. In fear and trembling, we followed him. We accepted the white towels, the rubber slippers, the adjoining lockers and then followed him to the shower area.  We painfully acted as though public nudity were commonplace for us. 

            We entered the sauna.  A group of about 10 men gave us a quick look and squished their bodies about to make room for us. Later, at the swimming pool, none of the men took time to acknowledge us.  The inner turmoil over our nakedness began to ease, especially under the cold shower. Later yet, after a couple of hours of water therapy, when we plopped on lounge chairs on the sundeck, we ordered beer and sandwiches.  A curious Dutchman in all his naked glory left his lounging to stand between us, smoking and sipping a beer as he grilled us about the US of A.  We became so falsely nonchalant about it that we enjoyed the banter as his beer glass sweated down on our torsos. Talk about the naked truth! 

            On our way back to the bus stop, Mary stopped suddenly, let out a laughing scream, and said, “Do you realize that I was the only female in that building?”   I gave her a crooked grin and said. “You know, I hardly noticed!”   Then I ran for the bus stop! 

In early April of this year when the Masters Golf Tournament took place in Augusta, the golf world was agog with interest.  Augusta became the Mecca for the enthusiasts.  They knew that the beatified professional golfers, domestic and foreign, would be on hand.  The much- glorified grounds and course of the country club mirrored nature’s beauty.  Even the independent weather held off all threats.  What really seized the golf world’s attention, however, was the presence of golf’s master moneymaker, Tiger Woods.

            Tiger was returning to the “up close and personal” of tournament life after a rather hectic period of public revelation of his bedroom gymnastics encounters and subsequent therapy sessions. The fans wanted to see their hero, warts and all.

            What they didn’t expect and what the powerful figures who run the Masters had to face was the small private plane flitting around the area, trailing a banner.  The message on the banner was not flattering Tiger.  The FAA was contacted.  The small plane went back to Ohio.  The nasty distraction was grounded. 

Let us now cross-country to California, to a funeral of a young Marine killed in Iraq.  A proper burial had been planned by the grieving father.  There was to be solemnity, respectful presence of family and friends, the sad but grateful steps of young and old who know that freedom often has a crushing cost.

            As the cortege approached the cemetery gates, the mourners were shocked by the presence of a jeering group holding aloft signs proclaiming that the Marine’s death was God’s punishment for our country’s tolerance of gays and lesbians and transvestites. To these wild-eyed religious zealots, this Marine’s death was no loss to them or to the world.  It was simply the result of our country’s evil ways.

            These zealots are from Westboro. Kansas.  They are congregants of an independent Baptist church led by Fred Phelps.  Their mission is powered by hatred of all religions.  They picket funerals, churches, buildings housing church offices.  They desecrate our flag.  They boast of 4600 protests in 650 cities since 1991. 

            So?  What’s the point here?  Well, think of the plane in Augusta.  No problem.  It was sent away. Power and influence evidently cleared the air. “One Call; that’s all.”

            The Marine’s father and mourners had to suck it up and carry on.  The Marine’s father turned to the court for help.  The Appeals Court ruled in favor of the zealots.  An added insult required the father to pay court costs amounting to thousands.

            We are dealing with Freedom of Speech in both cases.  The little plane ran into big force and flew away.  The grieving father sought legal help and was wiped out.  The Supreme Court may consider this case in the fall.  Meanwhile, the father depends upon help such as the $17,000 that the American Legion donated.

            The matter of free speech constantly calls for interpretation, for clarity, for some sort of common sense.  The legal aspects sometimes escape common sense, common decency, regard for civilized behavior.  Hopefully, in this case, the Supreme Court will call upon our founding principals’ principles. 

Every four years, when World Cup Soccer comes to play, I’m reminded of my military time spent in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.  Almost immediately upon arrival at Toncontín International Airport, I spotted a lone, gull-wing shaped airplane.  The WWII era Corsair was a rare find indeed.  This fueled my interest and led me to ask the local Hondurans, “Where did that bird come from and why is it here?”  The response was to the point, “You’ve never heard of the 1969 Soccer War?”

Since I was an American and grew up in the 1970’s, soccer was not my forté.  If you wanted to watch international sports, you depended on ABC’s Wide World of Sports to bring it to you.  So most North Americans had never heard of this so called Football War.  Tensions were high between El Salvador and Honduras in the years building up to 1969, due to illegal immigration.  El Salvador was a small country with a rapidly growing population and no economic means to support them.  More than 300,000 Salvadorans had crossed into Honduras, only to become squatters, whose sole claim was their physical presence on that land.  These Salvadorans made up twenty percent of the peasant population in Honduras.

In early 1969, the Honduran government invoked a reform law as a pretext to evicting the Salvadoran squatters as the tensions between the two countries continued to build.  The media contributed massively to the situation, developing a climate of near-hysteria, blaming the impact of Salvadoran immigrant labor on wages and unemployment rates in Honduras.  By late May 1969, dozens of Salvadorans were killed or brutalized, with tens of thousands streaming back over the border, into an already overpopulated El Salvador.  The Salvadoran reaction was reciprocal, with El Salvador claiming all the lands occupied by immigrant peasants in Honduras.  It did not take long until maps were circulated showing the country almost one and a half times larger than it actually was.

By June, the soccer teams of both nations met for a three-game elimination match.  The winner would advance to the 1970 World Cup in Mexico.  Disturbances broke out during the first game in Honduras, with the situation getting progressively worse with the second game in El Salvador.  Honduran fans were roughed up, the Honduran flag and national anthem were insulted, and the emotions of both nations became considerably agitated.  With the outcome of the third game going in favor of El Salvador, the Salvadoran government wasted no time in severing ties with Honduras the same day.

Over the next three weeks, regular border clashes ensued as the Honduran’s continued to expel the Salvadoran illegal’s back across the border.  On the afternoon of July 14, the Salvadoran Army pushed across the border with a simultaneous, coordinated effort from the Salvadoran Air Force (FAS) to bomb Toncontin.  Hoping to catch the Honduran Air Force (FAH) on the ground, the FAS deployed C-47 transports, converted to bombing duties, which were modified to carry eighteen 100 pound bombs that were rolled out the cargo door.  Additionally, civilian aircraft were used that had modifications to drop mortars from railing.  When the mortars were gone, the crews reverted to WWI style bombing techniques, dropping “thirty pounders” by hand from the cockpit!  The bombing did little damage to the airport, and caught the FAH by surprise since they had no RADAR.  The FAH fighter pilots put four Corsairs in the air to hunt down the FAS attackers.  With no luck and no mission upon return to base, the pilots were released to go home that night.

The war was to last only four days.  The FAH put on their “War Paint,” sending their task force of 18 Corsairs and 5 T-28 Trojans against the FAS fleet of 12 Corsairs and 7 P-51 Mustangs.  It’s amazing that fratricide did not occur since both countries had similar aircraft and national markings.  The better equipped and trained FAH prevailed in this short war, using their Corsairs to bomb oil refineries and supply depots, effectively halting the Salvadoran Army in its tracks.  The FAH pilots also shot down four of the FAS highly experienced pilots with no loss to their own.  When air superiority was achieved, the FAH Corsairs moved into the close air support role and literally picked apart a Salvadoran Army that had achieved great success on the ground.

The end of the war marked the beginning of an arms race between the two countries.  With both Air Forces working their way into the jet age, the FAH Corsairs were sold off to private collectors, who quickly turned a profit by leasing the birds to Universal Studios for their new WWII TV show, Baa Baa Black Sheep (later syndicated as Black Sheep Squadron).  I’m left to ponder the fact that the war was not really about a soccer match but over illegal immigration.  Here we are forty years later, our country in turmoil with Mexico over unsecured borders, and the realization that history may be destined to repeat itself.