The James Mattis that lives at my house (we call him Mattis) broke his mother’s water just before midnight on September 8th of 2017. Seeing as how he was so insistent to show up three weeks early and try to claim the same birthday as his namesake, how could we deny him?
How old is your James Mattis?
Any word on the "smoke grenade"?
Was it a real deal M18 or one of those commercial smoke "devices" used for emergency signalling and or paint ball games?
"In a nut shell, if it ever goes to Civil War, I'm afraid I'll be in the middle 70%, shooting at both sides" — 26 Inf
"We have to stop demonizing people and realize the biggest terror threat in this country is white men, most of them radicalized to the right, and we have to start doing something about them." — CNN's Don Lemon 10/30/18
Right on. Glad we’re not the only ones.
First off, I've never served so my opinion is just that. I did grow up on a farm with my Grandfather who served in the Army during World War II in France and Germany, my Great Uncle down the road served in the Army in the Pacific during World War II, and every farmer I put up hay, put up fence lines, cut wood, and worked on the sawmill for served during World War II and Korea.
Here's what I do know. None save my Great Uncle ever talked about the war, and then only sparingly by my Great Uncle. Combat was a taboo subject with my Gramps, and I learnt that early on when I got old enough to start asking questions. It was just a firm I will never speak about it. I honestly don't know how they coped with it other than working their asses off. All of them worked hard, and served their community hard. They were all Ruitan members, and built a very nice community center that is still going today.
They hid it, and they hid it well. Grandma would say once in a blue moon Gramps would wake up basically fighting, but as soon as he woke up he would realize it was just a dream and it would be over. That's all she would talk about it too. I never experienced it, and I lived with them for years. They coped the best they could, and I'm sure they took the effects of their service to their graves. Maybe they handled it better than say someone from the city as they were used to slaughtering hogs, cattle, chickens, etc... as part of their every day life.
My Gramps gave me a 22 rifle and 16 gauge shotgun when I was 11 or so, and graduated me from my trusty pellet rifle. He was the one who taught me how to hunt and to shoot. Never in my life did I ever see him take game. Not one time. When I was around 20 or so Gramps went squirrel hunting with me. He took his Dad's old Model 12, and I had my 870 Wingmaster he got me for my 16th birthday. I had taken a few squirrels, and we sat down to eat lunch on a big rock in a clearing surrounded by oak and walnut trees. So here comes this squirrel down an oak right in front of us. Couldn't have been more than 20 yards. I told Gramps it was his since I'd already taken a few. So Gramps throws up and just straight up pulls off. I never said a word to him. He just looked at me and said "I must have had a punkin' ball in there".
There was a long standing story that after Gramps got back from Europe he skipped on the hog slaughter that year. Story goes that some of the guys were giving him a pretty hard ribbing, and he told them that "if you had seen as much blood as I have you wouldn't want to see anymore". Ever since I was old enough to remember I can remember him and my Great Grandfather slaughtering hogs and a couple of cattle. I was born in 1972 so that was many years down the road. He never even told my Dad or Uncle anything about combat. He would talk about boot camp, but never about the war itself. Every time I watch "The Pacific" and see Sledge go hunting with his Dad when he gets back to Mobile I think of Gramps and how hard it must have been.
All of you guys who've served have my utmost respect. I don't have the answers, and I sure as hell don't have any idea how to tell anyone how to cope. All I know is that it can be done, and a lot of old codgers I knew and looked up to when I was a snot nosed teenager proved it. I truly wish you all peace, rest and happiness for the rest of your lives.
At the hospital no one had ever heard that used for a first name so it stirred up quite a few conversations and honestly still does since no one connects the dots right away.
I just tell them how well Chaos treated us overseas and that he stood by his principal and led from the front... all of which is rare today and as such hoped that it gives our son even half of the same spirit.
We gave our son the option of going by James, Jim, or of course Mattis. I’m sure some will try to shorten it to Matt as well, but they’re morons.
One of the nurses was married to a former Marine, she understood right away. Mattis was the best commanding General I ever served under, evidently I’m not the only one to have that opinion.
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