My dad is a WWII buff. His entire library consists of books about WWII. So let me tell you what I mean by ‘buff.’ Imagine you’re on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and you get a question about WWII and the question is, “What German U Boat sunk on April 3rd, 1941. Who was the Captain? How many sailors were on the ship? How many tons did this U Boat displace? What are the coordinates of the wreck? What was the cargo if any? How many ships are attributed to that Captain? Who was the code breaker in Bletchley Park who deciphered the enigma intercept? And what did Admiral Yamamoto have for dinner that evening?”
You’d be straight up SOL, unless you had my old man as a lifeline and I can tell you what he’d say too, “Well I can tell you one thing quickly, you’re about to be a millionaire.” Then he’d provide the answer to each of the questions. No really, I mean that. And he can do this in any theater of operation. It truly is remarkable.
Most of the initial books I read in my teenage years were these books and if you like history, it’s addicting. I have to give a quick side-story.
Dad was an officer in Germany who guarded nuclear weapons. I was born there and lived the first two years of my life there. Dad fell in love with German cars especially Porsche. His first one was a ’74 black 911T. The next one was a silver ’79 silver 911. Then he got an ’83 911SC and that car had over 250k miles on it when he got rid of it. Then he had a Carrera that was Blue with a white leather interior. Now he just has Mercedes AMGs. His first Mercedes was a ’70 280 SEC which he bought in Germany and brought back here. That was a beautiful car.
Once you get accustomed to driving on the Autobahn, you don’t really like it when you see a damn Buckeye drive moseying along in the fast lane doing the speed limit. We were going up to Michigan once for a case he had and on the way, we met up with a Ferrari just like Magnum PI only this was black. We had just gotten gas when he spotted that “Italian piece of shit” and so began a 100+ MPH race that started in Illinois and finished in Michigan. We had a Comfort Coach custom van too and one of the ladies who worked at the 100th Division had a son who was descending a gorge in Tennessee and looked down at a rock he thought looked flat from above but was actually sloped downward at 40 degrees. He jumped down and slid off down 130 feet. He broke most of his ribs, punctured a lung, broke his jaw in 2 places, his wrists and an one leg.
When he was in the hospital in TN for 6 weeks and when they released him, his mom needed to go get him but they released him in the middle of a blizzard. There was 2 feet of snow on the interstate and she didn’t want to drive down there in the middle of a blizzard. So she tells this to dad and dad says, “I’ll run you down there.” We took the van and set out. There was only one lane that had been plough the entire way down I75 and dad had no intention of driving behind a bunch of people crawling along at 35 mph. So he took the lane that had not been plowed and drove 70 all the way down with 2 feet of snow as the road. He had just gotten one of the first CD players installed and we listened to the Eagles greatest hits album. It was dead silent otherwise because dad was focused on driving and we were bracing for death.
After about 30 minutes of this, I relaxed because dad could drive. I still have 100% confidence that he’s the best driver I’ve seen. Dad doesn’t like people camping in the fast lane when he’d rather be doing 100mph in his Porsche. So he will use his high beams and horn to get campers out of his ways and will even flip the bird as he passes the particular moron. You could say he’s an aggressive driver.
So one night, I’m sitting on the couch and Linda, my dad’s girlfriend comes running in the house and says, “get the gun.” You can imagine being passed by someone laying on the horn in a Porsche and flipping you off as he passed you might irritate some people. So I left up and went to get one of dad’s gun. It was a Dirty Harry Special stainless steel 44 magnum Smith & Wesson with an 8 inch barrel. It was in a wooden case and I loaded it as I walked out to hand it to him.
There was a “fuck you contest” in progress as I handed dad the hand canon that would win dad this contest. “Motherfucker if you don’t get off my property, I’m going to blow you and your piece of shit car in half.” This miraculously inspired the man to leave, quickly.
My dad’s three favorite military leaders were Churchill, Patton and MacArthur. The stories of their heroism are legend but one particular trait they all shared was that when they were under fire, they did not take over. They stood erect to inspire their men and because they were so egomaniacal that they believed nothing but divine intervention could guide a bullet to kill them. It’s true too that to them, the highest honor to die on the battlefield. If you have seen the movie Patton, you will know what all three men thought of cowards.
To me, there are but three creatures who are below just a common coward on the Thomas scale of human fucking garbage, woman-beaters, rapists and child molesters who are all incidentally, cowards.
I watched George C. Scott’s portrayal of Patton hundreds of times. I know every line in that movie. In my youth, I thought Patton, MacArthur and Churchill were the embodiment of what a man should be, but then I started reading different books. It’s never easy to learn that your heroes were actually scoundrels. Few things hit me harder than when DNA testing proved that Thomas Jefferson had fathered the children of Sally Hemmings. It was not his son as many white historians postulated. Jefferson was a rare genius but also the worst of hypocrites and that’s me being kind to a man I revered like no other once.
In an interview once, Dotard Caligula mention how much he loved Patton and that said so much to me because his bookshelf was barren at the White House and it’s painfully obvious he has never read a book. He loved George C. Scott’s portrayal of Patton. The man who would stand erect with bullets whizzing by him. Trump admires Patton because Patton was the prototypical man all men wanted to be who were born after 1940. Men tend to admire other men who they are the polar opposite of.
I can hear Dotard Caligula’s inner monologue, “I couldn’t go to Vietnam because of the bone spurs but if I had gone, I would have been the best soldier ever, believe me.” Patton was in NYC once and saw a woman being accosted by several men, he jumped out of his car, pulled his revolver and was ready to gun these men down. Don Quixote was a favorite book of Patton’s, so he sprung into action thinking he was saving Dulcinea.
For all his flaws, Patton was a man of action. When Dotard says he would have burst into the school to save those kids, he’s only pretending to do what he thinks Patton would have done. He has never been forced to confront reality. He’s never taken responsibility for anything. We are all about to see what happens when Mueller confronts that coward with the reality of his many crimes.
Old Bill Shakespeare said, ‘A coward will die a thousand deaths before death takes them.’ Trump deserves every goddamned one of them.