Fire and Ice

Joe Bonham Project Exhibition

2011-08-10T11:10:00.000-05:00

Announcing "The Joe Bonham Project," An Exhibition Curated by James Panero

The Joe Bonham Project
an exhibition curated by James Panero

featuring portraits of injured US service personnel by members of the International Society of War Artists and the Society of Illustrators

SEPTEMBER 1-18, 2011

Opening Reception:

Thursday, September 1, 6-9PM

______________________
BUSHWICK, BROOKLYN – Storefront (16 Wilson Avenue, Brooklyn) is pleased to announce the final installment of its ambitious summer exhibition schedule featuring THE JOE BONHAM PROJECT, an exhibition organized by guest curator James Panero. Post 9/11, the exhibition brings together the work of wartime illustrators featuring portraits of injured US service personnel by members of the International Society of War Artists and the Society of Illustrators. These works are documentative, accurate, and gripping, yet offer a sensitivity and awareness to the causalities and sacrifice of war.

Artists featured in Panero’s selection include: Lance Corporal Robert Bates, USMC; Peter Buotte; CWO2 Michael D. Fay, USMC (retired); Jeffrey Fisher; Roman Genn; Bill Harris; Richard Johnson; Meghan Myres and Victor Juhasz.

The show opens with a reception, Thursday, September 1, 6-9PM and will be on view through September 18. For more information, contact Jason Andrew at 646-361-8512 or visit www.storefrontbk.com

THE JOE BONHAM PROJECT represents the efforts of wartime illustrators to document the struggles of U.S. service personnel undergoing rehabilitation after traumatic front-line injury. Formed in early 2011 by Michael D. Fay, the Project takes its name from the central character in Johnny Got His Gun, Dalton Trumbo’s 1938 novel of a World War I soldier unable to communicate with the outside world due to the extent of his wounds. Scheduled to coincide with the tenth anniversary of the attacks of September 11, the exhibition will mark the silent sacrifices of American soldiers in the ensuing decade-long conflict.

James Panero is Managing Editor and art critic at The New Criterion and writes about art and culture for several publications. This is his first curated exhibition.

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STOREFRONT was started by Jason Andrew and Deborah Brown. It is Bushwick’s leading gallery presenting both emerging young talent and established historically significant artists. Its exhibition program has been the featured in ARTNET MAGAZINE, THE CITYist, TIME OUT NEW YORK, NEW YORK MAGAZINE, NEW YORK PRESS, NEW YORK POST, THE NEW CRITERION, L MAGAZINE, THE BROOKLYN RAIL, THE NEW YORK TIMES, WNYC, and written about locally including BUSHWICKBK, GREENPOINT GAZETTE, WILLIAMSBURG GREENPOINT NEWS + ARTS.

HOURS: Weekends 1:00-6:00PM or by appointment 646-361-8512 .

DIRECTIONS: L train to Brooklyn. Morgan Avenue stop. Walk four blocks on Morgan to Flushing Avenue. Cross Flushing Avenue to Wilson Avenue. The gallery is located between Noll and George Streets.

A SELECTION OF WORK SCHEDULED TO APPEAR IN THE EXHIBITION:

Lance Cpl. Tyler Huffman by Richard Johnson

Sgt Jason Ross by Victor Juhasz

Sgt Than Naign by Robert Bates

Cpl Matthew Bowman by Robert Bates

Lance Cpl. Tyler Huffman by Michael D. Fay

Still in the Fight - Trailer (Part 2)

2011-06-21T09:48:00.000-05:00

Still in the Fight - Trailer (part 1)

2011-06-21T09:46:00.000-05:00

Still in the Fight

2011-06-21T09:34:00.003-05:00

For the past month I've been very busy with a project called Still in the Fight. SITF is a musical off shoot of my series of three articles this past March in the New York Times and the Joe Bonham Project. The music director for Still in the Fight is Mike Corrado, and the co-artists are Victor Juhasz and Robert Bates. I collaborated with Max Uriarte, creator of the totally viral Terminal Lance phenomena on the official logo, which you see above.

Please go by our SITF Facebook page, and Indie-Go-Go fund raising site.

The Joe Bonham Project and Still in the Fight

2011-05-22T10:33:00.004-05:00

Over the past couple weeks I've been very focused on two related projects, the Joe Bonham Project and Still in the Fight. The former is a partnership between the International Society of War Artists and the Society of Illustrators. The latter is a partnership between the Joe Bonham Project and a group of Nashville musicians led by Mike Corrado. Together, we are raising money for a Nashville recording session and a video to go with the song, Still in the Fight, being penned by Mike. Mike has already written several outstanding songs about the experiences of our warriors in the Global War on Terrorism: On My Watch Tonight, Stand and Lucky One.

In order to finance Still in the Fight we've set up a site where folks can donate. We've got a bunch of great perks for different levels of giving. The donation site is http://www.indiegogo.com/Still-in-the-Fight

This past week I was out in Colorado Springs covering the second annual Warrior Games. So far, as a war artist, I've embedded with and covered Marines in combat, in surgical trauma wards, and rehabilitation centers. Going to the Warrior Games brings my art full circle, covering our fully recovered warriors, some still on active duty and others medically retired, competing at a world-class Paralympic level at the US Olympic Committee Training Center in Colorado Springs. Stand by for art and stories of these exceptional Americans.

Fellow War Artist Back in Afghanistan

2011-04-16T08:30:00.003-05:00

My good friend and fellow war artist, Richard Johnson, is back in Afghanistan doing war art for Canada's National Post newspaper. I was going to travel with him, but my wife Janis got word she'll be deploying to Afghanistan. Her mobilization starts in early May, so my trip had to take a back seat. Please check out Richard's work at his Kandahar Journal blog.

Janis is a sergeant first class in the Virginia National Guard. Her area of military expertise is civil affairs. I've met with her combat brigade's deputy commander and their public affairs' officer, and as a result I'm looking forward to embedding with them at least twice once they're in country. Their 116th Combat Brigade will be a joint command, with American, Australian, Romanian and Afghan forces.

The Joe Bonham Project

2011-04-01T20:22:00.003-05:00

A couple weeks ago I had a series of three pieces about wounded warriors published on the New York Times' Opinionator website. The series garnered attention from the United Kingdom's Guardian newspaper and Fox News. Another result of this exposure is the interest fellow artists have in honoring our service members with their art. The result is something we're calling the Joe Bonham Project. Rather than explain where the name comes from, I invite you to click on the link and stop by our blog and read for yourself. Thanks.

Forty Years Later Than Planned

2011-03-24T21:24:00.005-05:00

Yours truly at the corner of Haight and Ashbury Streets in San Francisco

For all of last week, and up to Wednesday of this week, I was in San Francisco. The first week was spent with my MFA in Illustration class. We met a ton of great artists and were treated to a tour of the Lucasfilm studios located aboard the former Presidio military base. Some of the artists who gave us talks and interacted with were Bill Russell, Chuck S. Pyle, Courtney Granner, Craig Frazier, Dennis Zieminski, Lou Brooks, Noah Kiosek, Vivienne Flesher, and Robert Hunt

I also got to finally meet my agent, Katie Boyle, and my co-author, Don DeNevi.

But the big event was finally making it, after forty long years, to the corner of Haight and Ashbury Streets, ground zero of my high school years' dreams of being a hippie. Strange irony then, that on the same day of this photo, I was featured on Fox and Friends, and interviewed about a series of mine called Still in the Fight featured last week by the New York Times. I was also interviewed on Minnesota Public Radio (eat your heart out Garrison Keeler) and had the drawings and articles reviewed in Great Britain's Guardian Newspaper.

Not a bad week after forty years.

A Worthy Cause

2011-03-22T19:02:00.002-05:00

I want to thank all the Guardian and New York Times readers who are stopping by. Here's an organization that you may want to donate to. Sew Much Comfort. The 500 plus volunteer seamstresses have made over 90,000 custom made articles of clothes since 2004 for our recovering service members.

Welcome to Guardian Readers

2011-03-21T12:54:00.004-05:00

In The Shadow of the Poppy Harvest, oil on canvas, 2011

I want to thank all the readers of the Guardian for stopping by. I hope you take the time to check out my other art and ramblings. Cheers!

Welcome to Opinionator Readers

2011-03-18T10:31:00.002-05:00

To all the readers of the New York Times Opinionator website, welcome. I hope you'll take the time to go back through my postings since my tour to Iraq in 2005. You'll find some personal rants, battlefield reports and general musings from my time in both the studio and out in combat.

Wounded Warriors

2011-02-24T14:32:00.008-05:00

Corporal Zachary Stinson

Lance Corporal Kyle Carpenter

Lance Corporal Tyler Huffman

Last Thursday and Friday, fellow war artist Richard Johnson and myself, visited with and sketched battle wounded Marines recovering at McGuire Veterans Administration Hospital in Richmond, Virginia. For two days we followed three Marines as they relaxed with family and friends, and endured sessions of painful physical therapy.

Only one word is adequate to describe these young men....Courageous.

In his poem Invictus, William Ernest Henley put it perfectly:

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

You can see Richard's work and read about our visit at Canada's National Post.

Gone Too Long

2011-02-05T19:23:00.005-05:00

Sorry for being gone for so long. Since my last posting in September I got married. I'll post pictures very shortly of Janis and my wedding at the National Museum of the Marine Corps this past 10/10/10.

I've been very busy with a number of projects. Other than being a newly wed, my number one priority is my Masters of Fine Arts in Illustration program with the University of Hartford. Here's one of my projects, an interpretation of a Collier's magazine cover in the style of J. C. Leyendecker. A fellow MFA student is originally from Russia, and assures me I could have gotten a job of doing Lenin paintings full time.

I've also been working on a set of oil paintings for the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation based on my trip to Afghanistan last June. Myself and fellow war artist Richard Johnson, are planning a trip back to cover the Marines in Helmand Province during the month of April. The New York Times Opinionator website is going to carry my art, photos and dispatches again. Richard's work will appear in the National Post of Canada.

In the Shadow of the Opium Harvest, Helmand.

Here's one of my oil paintings in progress. The title is going to be "In the Shadow of the Opium Harvest". It shows a Marine dog handler and his dog resting in the shade at high noon next to a pile of dried poppy stalks. During my June trip to Helmand Province, the Marines were being rocketed all day. The rockets were Chinese, new and freshly purchased with opium profits.

The Grenadier.....Finished

2010-09-04T09:00:00.005-05:00

Here's the first finished casting of The Grenadier. The sculpture is based on a photograph I took of a Lance Corporal Turchich during Operation Steel Curtain in November of 2005. The piece was created using a technique called ecorche. I built a wire armature, added the bones and then the muscles with plasticine clay to create a flayed man. The flayed man was then wrapped in a skin of plaster of paris cloth. The resulting naked figure was then fully fleshed out and geared up using sculptor's wax. Once this was all complete and the figure married to a small vinyette depicting a blasted concrete pillar, the foundry cast a series of molds. These molds were then used to produce a series of hollow waxes. Each wax was then re-tooled by me to bring back or add details. Finally, the waxes were prepped for and underwent the "lost wax" bronze casting process. And, viola, you have the first version of this, my third attempt at sculpture.

The figure is shown with a pomegranate in his right hand and his helmet in his left. Across his chest an M-16 rifle with an M204 grenade launcher hangs on a three point sling. On his back hangs an AT-4 rocket. At the grenadier's feet lies a branch blasted off a pomegranate tree and scattered leaves, and spent rifle and grenade casings.

The word for grenade originated from the word for pomegranate. The gardens in Iraq and Afghanistan are always filled with them.

Norman Rockwell Museum Talk

2010-08-10T12:48:00.003-05:00

Last Thursday evening I gave a talk at the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass. It was such an honor for me to be invited to both speak and to contribute to their permanent collection. I took one of my sculptures, The 240 Gulf Machine Gunner, and the photo shows it standing before one of Norman Rockwell's great paintings.

Invitation to the Norman Rockwell Museum

2010-07-30T11:45:00.002-05:00

The Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass. has invited me to speak there next Thursday at 5:30 PM. I hope if any of you live within easy driving distance you'll attend.

Today's Motivation

2010-07-29T14:54:00.004-05:00

Poem penned by Hamlin Garland and found written on the wall of Marine combat Observation Post Karma

Columnist Mark Shield's piece about the Marines and our values appeared in newspapers across the country today. It's a good read, especially the boot camp part.

A half a century ago, I spent the longest 13 weeks of my life at an out-of-the-way place called Parris Island, S.C., then and now the home of the Marine Corps Recruit Depot.

We were strangers who arrived there in the middle of the night and were immediately relieved of all our civilian clothing and possessions — including our hair. Standing there confused, apprehensive and bald, I remember asking myself over and over: What the hell am I doing here?

Then silently appeared in our midst a man in a starched uniform and polished boots brimming with self-confidence and a sense of command. This was the Marine drill instructor, the DI, who did not conceal his disgust with what he saw in us. I can still hear him that we were the sorriest collection of misfits and rejects he or anyone else had ever seen.

What followed was 90 days of splendid misery. Civilian habits, speech and attitude were marched and drilled and driven out of us. The DI was relentlessly democratic. He treated everyone on our platoon, 189, with equal contempt while double-timing us 12 hours a day from mess duty to the rifle range and back. He used his personal term of endearment to remind us, "Maggot, remember, you volunteered to be here."

Somehow after more than three months of no Cokes, no beer, no TV and not even a day off, the DI, by then our Ultimate Authority Figure, reluctantly conceded that just possibly, maybe someday, we might actually be Marines. The combination of joy, relief and pride was unmatched.

I was not a great Marine. I never saw combat. I got a lot more from the Marines than the Marines got from me. But I believe fervently that this nation today needs the values of the Marine Corps as much as the nation needs the Marine Corps.

Of course, honor, courage and commitment are always in short supply. But the Marines teach personal responsibility and accountability by example, that any chain is only as strong as the weakest individual link. As a unit, we are stronger working together than the individual members can separately be.

Marines take care of their own — and they take care of their fellow Marines before themselves. The well-being of the country and of the Corps is more important than our individual well-being.
This may best be stated in the hard-and-fast Marine rule: "Officers eat last." The Marine officer does not eat until after his subordinates for whom he is responsible — the corporals and privates — have been fed. Marines live by the rule that loyalty goes both up and down the chain of command. Would not our country be a more just and human place if the brass of Wall Street and Washington and executive suites believed that "officers eat last"?

The Marine ethic emphasizes responsibility to duty and responsibility to others before self. This is the very opposite of the unbridled individualism that elevates profit and personal comfort to high virtues. The selfish and self-centered CEO or senator who disregards and discards his loyal "troops" would be shunned in the Corps.

Civilian Americans must understand that the greatest civil rights victories have been won by the Marines and the U.S. military, the most successfully integrated sector of our national life. Why? No racial reference and no racial discrimination. The first time I ever slept in the same quarters with African-Americans or Latinos — or took orders from them — was as a private in the Marines Corps.

Yes, America really does need more Marine values and influence.

I want to echo Mr. Shields with a photograph I took at OP Karma back in June. The words you see in the photo are written on the back wall of one of the most dangerous places in the world.

What the......?

2010-07-29T14:34:00.003-05:00

Okay, I'm officially fed up with Michelle Obama and Vice-President Biden. Michelle wants me to sign a birthday card for Barack and Joe Biden wants me to donate. Where in the name of Pete did they get my email address? Here's Biden's personal appeal to me:

Mike --

$200 million.

That's what Republican-aligned special interests have pledged to spend on the 2010 election. Just to put that in context, that's nearly $40 million more than every interest group spent on the 2008 presidential election -- combined.

When our administration and this movement decided to take on the special interests, we knew we were making a choice. And the consequences are clear. These groups have fought us at every turn in our struggle for change, and now they're trying to drown out our voices -- and our accomplishments -- with their campaign cash this fall.

We're not going to sit back and let that happen. Today, Organizing for America is announcing the By the People Fund with the goal of getting 3 million citizen donations to fuel our grassroots campaign for the upcoming election.

Please donate $5 today and help us take back this election from the corporate interests.

With our By the People Fund, we're going to make a statement this fall -- strengthening our grassroots efforts on the ground, focusing on getting first-time voters from 2008 back to the polls this year, and holding the Republicans and their special-interest allies accountable.

We've all gone to the mat with these folks time and again -- ever since Barack and I took office. And, from the Recovery Act to historic health reform to Wall Street reform, you helped prove we could win those fights.

Now these groups have one goal in mind when it comes to November 2nd -- erasing the progress we've made together.

By spending an unprecedented amount of cash to support Republicans, they're doing their best to buy their way back into power. And, if they do, they've been clear that they will do everything they can to undo the historic achievements we've fought so hard to win.

It's no wonder that each and every Republican in the Senate on Tuesday voted to allow these special interests to have a greater say in our elections. Their vote will allow these groups to spend millions on campaign ads -- and not have to reveal who's actually behind them.

I've been in politics a long time. I'm used to seeing the good guys outspent by interest groups. But we've never been outnumbered -- and we've never been outhustled.

I'm asking you to make sure it stays that way. Will you chip in and help us grow our By the People Fund?

Please donate $5 or more today:

https://donate.barackobama.com/ByThePeople

Thank you,

Vice President Joe Biden

"Buy their way back into power"? Does this guy remember the last election and the financial juggernaut his running mate commanded. In fact, running his election campaign machine was the only thing Obama could point to as his "executive" experience qualifying him to sit in the Oval Office. Obama raised over $750 million in his run for office in 2008 and between himself and McCain he was the larger recipient of contributions from the infamous BP. Decrying the paltry sum of $200 million seems a bit of rather ridiculous political theater. Oh, and isn't the President currently in the lead garnering money from Wall Street?

So Joe, no money from me, and Michelle, don't wait for me to sign the birthday card for hubby.

Raw Stuff

2010-07-21T20:06:00.006-05:00

For the past two weeks I've been at the University of Hartford attending the first session of their limited residency Master of Fine Arts in Illustration program. I haven't worked this hard since attending The Basic School at Quantico during the summer of 2006.

The instructors for this program are world class and include the likes of Murray Tinkleman , Dennis Nolan and Alice "Bunny" Carter. These folks have been both encouraging and pushing me to dive deep into my war experiences. They've also gotten me to work from imagination and memory, something I rarely do. Here are a couple pieces based on actual battlefield events I've witnessed. In the interest of privacy I'm not going to reveal the individual's whose pain, suffering and death are depicted.

Firefight and Medevac

2010-07-18T11:24:00.008-05:00

June 7, 2010: Patrol Base Karma, Weapons Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment

It’s a dry heat. Repeat often. Staff Sergeant Worley, the Patrol Base Karma QRF (quick reaction force) leader, doesn’t want to hear the actual temperature. When Sergeant Morse, one of his team leaders, looks up from his Dick Tracy wrist GPS and announces “116 degrees” he gets back a scowl and a terse reminder to never mention the temperature. Worley, a North Carolinian, likes to pretend the temperature is always 94 degrees. Always.

We’ve been sitting out in the unforgiving Afghan sun over six hours. At 0805 the sounds of a hotly contested firefight, small arms fire and grenade blasts, erupted 700 meters off to the west of PB Karma. Worley’s QRF of a dozen Marines and an equal number of Afghan National Army troops was quickly marshaled to provide a blocking force on the eastern flank of a gun battle raging between a platoon from Lima Company and a Taliban cell.

The engaged platoon sent up a green flare to identify their position, slightly forward to our right and screened by low mud compounds. Shortly afterwards a red flare appeared over the besieged platoon’s position, one of the Lima Marines had been shot, a sucking chest wound, and Worley’s first task was to secure an LZ for a medevac helicopter. The golden hour was ticking down for the stricken Marine being tended somewhere to our right in a tree line on the far side of a large irrigation canal paralleling a major road called Route Cowboys.

On this morning the Marines of Lima had been providing a western security force for an element of US Army and Marine combat engineers’ doing IED clearing south along Route Cowboys, the central artery running through the heart of the Helmand River Valley. A parallel road on the valley’s eastern flank, Route Giants, had been cleared of IEDs down to PB Karma months before. It was now time to extend Marine presence to the intersection of Giants, Cowboys and a third road converging from the west, Tarheels. This strategic junction, only 300 meters southwest of Karma, was until now in Taliban hands. Daily sniper shots, rocket propelled grenades and 107mm rockets reminded the garrison at Karma that the enemy wasn’t going to retreat from this key intersection without a major fight. The few kilometers long stretch being cleared harbored dozens of IEDs.

This operation, Zokar Khan, had already taken the lives of three Marines. The day before one of the large MRAP mine-resistant vehicles had lost its footing on the earthen road and tumbled into one of the deep canals along Route Cowboys. Three Marines and a military working dog made it out of the quickly submerging vehicle, but three did not. Besides the heat, everyone was feeling the loss. Given their druthers, Marines would rather die in a firefight than in an accident.

We arrived at our position in the crisp stubble of freshly shorn wheat after jog through fields of chest high dried poppy stalks, and across muddy irrigation ditches. Worley had quickly deployed his Marines and Afghan National Army troops in a broad arc anchored along a ditch running east to west the length of a sprawling village compound of sun baked walls and homes. Contact with the Taliban, hotly anticipated by the QRF, failed to materialize. The sound of gunfire off to our right diminished with the appearance of Cobra gunships.

A sortie of two US Army Blackhawk medevac helicopters flared into a field 200 meters away in a great cloud of dust. Just as quickly they lifted off and were gone, leaving only dry hot silence and flights of dark blue swallows darting everywhere.

Until further notice Worley’s QRF was to hold its position. With the circling threat of Cobras overhead the Taliban melted back south beneath the thick cover of mulberry tree lines. The Lima Marines, with a wide canal lying between them and the enemy position, moved a couple hundred meters north, closer to the road clearing detail under their protection. Worley said the Taliban would be back as soon as the Cobras were off station.

Now, at roughly 1400, the PB Karma QRF found itself proned out in a shadowless expanse of Afghan fields running low on water and information. Worley’s grizzled and sunburned cheek was pressed to his radio handset asking for a resupply of water and chow. Over and over his voice could be heard repeating his call sign, Crusher Six, as he responded to requests from Karma for reports of movement to our southwest. Small dust devils danced through the fields as the Marines stared through ACOG sights at the mute face of the mud village compound bordering Route Cowboys. The day had ground to a silent sweltering halt. Somewhere in the air above, among the darting swallows, came the buzz of a Scan Eagle surveillance drone circling slowly over the contested ground.

Word was passed down. The wounded Lima Company Marine didn’t make it.

SSgt Worley

(*The day after I left SSgt Worley he recieved a severe gunshot wound to his leg.)

Rocket Attack at PB Karma

2010-07-18T09:24:00.008-05:00

June 6, 2010: Patrol Base Karma, Weapons Platoon, 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines, Helmand Valley

They must have mis-spelled my name, the Taliban that is. It’s a common mistake. Even the best meaning of folks add an “e” to the end-Faye rather than the correct Fay. Sometimes I politely remind them that the vowels are a, e, i, o, u and sometimes y; placing an e after the y isn’t necessary for the correct pronunciation of Fay. I’m not generally known for being efficient, but when it comes to my last name-three letters does quite nicely thank you.

At 1630 today a Taliban 107mm ChiCom (Chinese Communist) rocket plowed through the back compound wall and exploded in a rear room of Patrol Base Karma (the squad normally living there was out at another observation post). This was our second attack of the day. It had my name on it, sort of. It missed me one meter to the left. I was sitting on the cot closest to the rear hatch in the back hallway right next to the room it sliced into. Maybe I should re-think making a fuss over minor mis-spellings.

Today started out like any other. I’ve been in Afghanistan about a week now and the morning routine is pretty much set. Get up around 0530 (it starts getting light about 0500), shake out boots (scorpions and spiders), and head to the piss tubes. Return to cot and grab worn green towel and toiletry kit (my fiancée Janis gave it to me for Christmas-it’s L.L. Bean and has a monogram of my initials) and head over to the hygiene pit (pick up a couple bottles of water on the way). Wash essential body parts-private bits and hair. If it’s the every other day, I shave. Brush teeth and floss. Take Prozac, Doxy and blood pressure medicine. Eat an MRE. If nature calls extra loud, get a wag bag and retire to the ad hoc toilet facility in the compound’s former stable.

This is my first full day at P B Karma so I start by exploring. The night before we had humped the five clicks from FOB Gorgak down to Weapons Company’s furthest south outpost, Karma. Beyond Karma there are only Taliban until the Pakistan border. The walk down a dirt road the Marines call Route Giants last evening was lovely. The fields and earthen compounds, framed by lines of mulberry trees, glowed in the sunset. The sequins on the little girls’ dresses and boys’ distinctive Kandahri caps flashed at us from the eastern bank of the deep irrigation canal we strolled along. Down in the canal laid deep beds of reeds filled with the bird sounds. But, by the time we arrived at the outpost the gloam was thick and night was mere minutes away. I couldn’t get a good look at the place. These patrol bases are blacked out after sunset.

Weapons Company believes PB Karma had been a hospital of sorts. When they took possession of the main building they found one of the four rooms splattered with blood and reeking of decay. They call that the death house. Despite a thorough scrubbing the sweet nauseous odor of death still seeps from its walls. The building itself is a one-story square with a cruciform layout. The structure is somewhat unusual for this area; it is very symmetrical and made of poured concrete. In fact, it sits on a dais of concrete about three feet high. There are sets of steps leading up to the platform, which forms a wide porch all way around, at all four cardinal directions. Each set of steps directs you through a door way. At the nexus where the two broad hall ways meet is a card table, where a game of hearts, spades, Texas hold ‘em or chess is usually in session 24/7. Two of the rooms are living quarters for Marines, one is the COC (command operations center) and the third (the death room) is the Medical Aid Station. The hallways are lined with sleeping cots and big improvised bins holding hundreds of water bottles. The walls are covered with gear and flak jackets hanging on something the Marines call Jesus nails-they’re big. The flight of stairs leading to the roof has the loopy symmetry one comes to expect in Afghanistan. Each step has its own logic and you need to respect it with each trip up and down them.

On the roof are sandbagged fighting positions with fifty caliber machine guns and grenade launchers, and an assortment of communication equipment and antennas. A little cupola caps the stairs and on top of that is Sable missile launcher perched in its own mini-fortress of green sandbags. It’s hot on the exposed roof, but surprisingly cool in the rooms and halls below.

The whole compound is surrounded by a two story earthen wall with vehicle access through an ornate blue metal gate. The area directly to the front is lined with MTAVs and MRAPs, dusty and mud caked behemoths designed to withstand IED blasts. Around the compound wall are various stations for washing uniforms, preparing and eating food, relieving oneself, sleeping and working out. The dog handlers, both trackers and bomb sniffers, have shaded lean-tos set up in two of the corners for themselves and their dogs.

After my tour I attached myself to a working party heading for a tree line just beyond the wire. Mulberry trees line virtually every major irrigation canal and the ones a hundred meters west of Karma block a good view of a village compound the Marines regularly take small arms and RPG (rocket propelled grenade) fire from. The detail was lead by Staff Sergeant Worley. His team, with little more than a small hack saw, a machete and a couple axes commenced to top off a couple stubborn mulberries. The work was arduous, hot and energy sucking. Marines alternated between swinging less than sharp axes at trunks, clambering up to exposed positions with the hack saw and machete to trim branches, and standing watch in the shade. That is until an RPG swooshed in and detonated fifty meters away.

A couple of Worley’s Marines on our right saw the “poof” and the rocket trail and returned fire to the point of origin. We quickly retrograded back to the patrol base through chest high fields of dried poppies. Up on the roof the sniper teams were scanning the seemingly abandoned village for signs of movement, or even another RPG launch. No joy. The hot quiet of the day settled back around us. The Scan Eagle drone buzzed overhead and the swallows cart wheeled through the air and into their mulberry rookeries completely oblivious to our presence.
Returning fire from roof top positions at PB Karma

After monitoring the snipers and looking through a set of binoculars for an hour, hoping to get a glimpse of anything out of the ordinary, I retired back to the relative cool interior of the building. I seated myself on an available cot and picked up a well-worn copy of a book detailing the experiences of Marine snipers in Iraq. A group of guys settled into a game of hearts at the central card table and off to one side two more started a chess match.

A distant wham was followed almost instantaneously by a concussive blast, a shower of dirt and shrapnel, and a thick billowing cloud of orange dust rolling down the hallway. I moved faster than I’ve ever moved before down the hallway away from the very close point of impact. As I ran crouching over I instinctively started running my hands over my body and down my legs. Shouts of “anyone hurt, anyone hurt” echoed off the still ringing walls and personnel dashed to the rear of the building expecting to find wounded.
In the right foreground is the cot I was sitting on. At the left margin there is a metal door slightly ajar with the upper glass portion missing. Through the opening of the door you can see a jagged dark area with a small white highlight where the rocket breached the wall.
My gear on the portion of the dias facing the outer wall initially penetrated by the rocket.

A gaping hole, about six feet across, became visible through the clearing dust. It was high and almost direct center on the rear wall. My little sleeping area and gear, on the dais, was covered in debris. The cammie netting that had covered the weight lifting area was down and a jagged hole in the building’s back wall showed where the round had breached the rear room. The field beyond the wall was on fire and throwing up sheets of black smoke.

Miraculously no one was severely injured. LCpl Echelson, who’d been sitting on the cot directly in front of me, had some minor bleeding low on one leg, but that was it. I was glad to see Worley. Moments before the impact he and I had exchanged a greeting as he headed to the weights to exercise. I thought for sure he had been right there. Worley, who took a moment to go around the side of the building to grab a bottle of water, was now seriously thinking about taking up religion.

At first the Marines were saying it was an RPG, but one of the EOD (Explosives Ordnance Disposal) guys collected up a bunch of parts and discovered it was a Chinese made 107mm rocket. I took a still life photo of the bits Sergeant Mesa had painstaking sifted from the chaos in the shattered back room. Thank God no one had been inside.
107mm Chinese Communist rocket remnants

According to the Marines, the Taliban had just had a pretty good poppy harvest and were flush with cash. The appearance of ChiCom rockets soon followed. Apparently they had a couple new toys to play with.

At Camp Delhi

2010-07-17T21:14:00.000-05:00

My living space at Camp Delhi

June 2, 2010: Headquarters 3rd Battalion, 1st Marines, Camp Delhi, Helmand Province

It’s such a simple thing. After fifty plus years you’d think I’d have a handle on it, but I don’t. I can’t tell my right hand from my left. I have to physically make the writing motion to cue myself. I can add another bit of brain malfunctioning to an ever growing list of idiosyncrasies, the word Delhi, or is it Dehli?

While out here I had occasion to meet an Indian Buddhist German documentary film maker, Ashwin Raman. Ash, as he asks to be called, started his documentary film career with the Marines in Vietnam, and now, days away from his 66th birthday, is marking his retirement with a final trip covering them in Afghanistan. I shared my sketches with him and immediately he chided me for my mis-spelling of Delhi on a couple. I got a few right, but on most I didn’t. Even now I have to write it both ways before my brain picks the correct one.

I arrived at Camp Delhi around midnight the night of June 1st on a CH-53 ride from Camp Bastion (or should I say the morning of June 2nd?...no matter). My hosts billeted me in a cave like room with a smokehouse smell and giant cotton candy spider webs in all the corners. Black Widow and Brown Recluse spiders are everywhere here. I got a broom first thing in the morning and reduced the webs to a tangle of fuzz on the bristle ends. Written in the soot covered walls and ceilings are graffiti from both American and British units. Judging by the bullet marks, both inside and out, this place saw heavy fighting. The Brits left a memorial to a bunch of their mates.

Delhi has a shower and I treat myself to one. These are Navy Showers-get wet, turn off water, lather up, turn water back on, rinse. Anything more than a minute’s worth of water is a crime. The weak lukewarm stream of water hardly seems worth the effort. Most Marines use the hygiene pit, a matted area with an open square with football size river rocks at the center, and bordered on two sides by makeshift wash stations. At one corner of the pit is a metal brace with a large flare gun-like spigot attached to an oversize hose running to a large rubber bladder containing non-potable water. Each wash station has a mirror and a circular hole cut in the waist high plywood table that accommodates a stainless steel bowl. Each table has spots for six. The bowls are stacked up at the angle where the tables meet. You’re expected to rinse yours out when finished. Even in this arachnophobes’ worst nightmare of a place there are etiquettes to be followed.

At 0900, after breakfast and some sketching, I meet with the battalion’s adjutant and arrange to get manifested on a convoy down to their Weapons Company at FOB Gorgak. Weapons is the furthest south unit in the hotly contested Helmand River Valley. The poppy harvest is over and the Taliban is flush with cash. I’m eventually heading to the where the sidewalk ends, Patrol Base Karma. Beyond Karma there is nothing but bad guys. Just last week they lost two Marines to an IED along a canal path. In another incident just days before another guy, though he survived, lost all four limbs to a pressure plate bomb.

I have until 1030, when the convoy brief will be held and my vehicle assignment made. I pack up my gear and stage it by a row of huge tan MTAVs and MRAPs. Other Marines waiting for a ride south mill about while convoy drivers and embark guys with a fork lift fill the back of trucks with supply laden palettes.

A closer look at the vehicles reveals a riot of scrapes, dings, bent bumpers and an undercoating of rock hard mud splatter. They’re as worn and dirty as the Marines sitting against underinflated tires in the shadows, and trying to catch forty winks in crew cabs stuffed with weapons, body armor, bottles of water and cases of MREs. This place is brutal on man and machine.

Off by the main ECP (entry control point) a patrol is forming up to leave the wire. This is a patrol party that virtually no Hollywood film has yet to capture. This is a FET (female engagement team) mission. Four of the Marines adjusting their gear and weapons are female.

There’s a minor statistic that doesn’t get a whole lot of play in the coverage of Afghanistan. In fact, based on my own observations, I would classify this bit of information as little more than a rumor. But the Marine Corps, being what it is, has decided to take this data and run with it. This is the unsubstantiated claim I’m referring to; half the population of Afghanistan is women. The mission of the FET Marines is to reach out to them. Those of us here can tell you there’s a better chance of encountering a Yeti than an Afghan woman. Be that as it may, the Marines have organized and deployed groups of female jarheads to actively meet with and engage them in the political process.

Sergeant Melissa Hernandez is an MP (military police) by trade. Today she commands a FET. She’s as geared up as any Marine I’ve ever seen, along with a team of two other female Marines and a female Navy corpsman. They’re on their way outside the wire to meet with local women. In my humble opinion these women are doing more than the entire National Organization of Women put together.

Out Into the Field

2010-07-17T20:45:00.009-05:00

May 30, 2010: Helo Pad, Camp Bastion

At precisely 2135 my public affairs escort to the Helo Pad shows up and we load my gear into the back of a dusty beat up mini-van. My backpack is pretty heavy and there are black and blue welts on both my forearms from all the times I’ve slung it on and off the past couple days. It’s good to have a little help. I ask him what day it is and he tells me Saturday. I think it’s Friday.

The drive out to the “air head” is winding and long. With all the construction going on here the route changes daily. I really don’t know how these guys remember how to get out here in the dark. And it’s dark. There are no street lights and all the buildings and tents have strict black-out discipline. The only things visible are the runway lights and a dense mantle of stars.

The duty driver drops me off and I sign up for my flight-Angry Cat 05. The embarkation Marine behind the counter inside a small plywood building asks me for my “kill number” and I give him the number the folks at the Media Center at Kandahar gave me-KAF148. Our transaction ends with the code SWA DWR written on my left hand with a black Sharpie pen. I’m heading to a place called Camp Delhi and it falls on the flight route to Camp Dwyer, hence the DWR. The SWA is for Space A.

The flight’s scheduled to leave at 2335. I’m “Space A”, which means I could be pumped from the flight. There’s another plywood building with a refrigerator case full of cold water bottles covered in dust and seating. I’ve got two hours to poke around.

Inside the waiting room is a Navy corpsman escorting a wounded Afghan National Army soldier. The corpsman isn’t quite sure the story behind the man’s head wound. He was just asked to make sure he got on the right helo hop back to his base. The wounded soldier looks tired and frail. He’s very small in stature. He speaks no English and no interpreter is around. The corpsman goes over to the cooler and in a drinking motion with his hands asks the Afghan if he would like water-he does. The doc brushes dust off of it and hands it to him. The Afghan soldier has red finger nails. I find out later this is a common form of folk medicine and not adornment. He’s got a great face and leans his bandaged head on his right hand. Like most Afghanis, he returns your look with a direct piercing gaze. I draw him. He doesn’t move or look away. Like the help with my pack, this is also appreciated. I thank him and he nods back.

I go outside and with the deepening night the Milky Way becomes more pronounced. Mars sparkles a reddish-orange and the Big Dipper seems an arm’s reach away. A classic three quarter Moon, visible since before sunset, has distinct human features. There is the constant rumble of helicopters out on the flight line and the chairs in the waiting room vibrate under your hand.

Outside, waiting for a flight, I notice a figure sitting half in and out of the light suspended over the passenger assembly area just shy of the runway’s edge. His gear is carefully arranged around him and flooded in chiaroscuro light. This is a scene Caravaggio would have loved. I ask his permission to take some pics and he gives his OK.

The guys name is Tim Coderro and he’s a former Marine sergeant. At the moment Tim is working his way back to 1st Battalion of the 6th Marine Regiment where he’s a civilian contractor providing aid and advice on sensitive sites issues and detainees. Back in the world he was a cop in Wilmington, North Carolina.

Around midnight the embarkation Marine comes out of the first hut and announces that the birds are inbound and has us don our gear and line up for a final head count and hand check. Bats are swooping through the orb of light over our heads devouring moths. At midnight the two CH-53 helicopters of Angry Cat 05 arrive and we lean away from their blast of heat and dust covering our eyes. We wait hunched over from the weight of our packs as the helos are unloaded and reloaded. Finally word comes, tonight they’re taking no passengers-except Tim Coderro.

The public affairs duty driver comes out and retrieves me. The Navy corpsman and his charge return to a very long night in the waiting room.

In Country

2010-07-17T20:40:00.002-05:00

May 30, 2010: Camp Bastion, LSA Leatherneck, Headquarters IMEF

The twelve hour non-stop flight from Dulles to Kuwait was cramped. I cursed myself for not spending the extra $148 for a seat up forward with the extra five inches all around; won’t make that mistake on the trip home. The plane was packed with both US military and civilian contractors heading to both the Iraq and Afghan AOs. Most seemed to be seasoned travelers-well equipped with sleeping accessories, reading material, and extra food and drink.

Before the plane left the ground I’d exhausted the seat pocket literature; the airline’s periodical, the emergency instruction card and the in-air shopping magazine. A former wife thought I had ADHD, which a subsequent test refuted, but none-the-less I found myself sitting there desperate for stimulation. The gentleman sitting next to me, a Naval Reserve officer on his first deployment, was reading a book on computer language. My neck craning rewarded me with pages of unintelligible logarithmic equations and calculus matrixes….why couldn’t I at least be next to some enlisted kid perusing some soft-porn mag like FHM?

These six thousand-plus mile flights chasing the spin of the Earth always leave me completely disoriented with regards to time. Chasing the sunrise at over six hundred miles per hour somehow makes twelve hours seem like twenty-four. We arrived the next day, the 28th, around 1700 local time, and made our way through customs and immigration. My retired military ID card gave the Kuwaitis some cause for confusion, but in the end my passport was stamped and I was able to gather up my luggage.

Just as I was leaving Dulles Janis, my fiancé, realized she had Kuwaiti dinars in her wallet from one of her trips, in fact well over $260 dollars worth. With this money in hand, and a porter lugging my gear, I headed out of the Kuwait International Airport terminal building to the taxi stand designated for transport out to Ali Al Salem Air Base. A familiar wave of heat greeted me as I joined a civilian contractor in engaging a cab ride. By 1830 I was standing in the Military Air Terminal at Al Salem presenting my invitational orders to a transportation clerk, who in turn informed me that a flight to Kandahar was leaving in one hour, and that I would be on it. So much for being held up in Kuwait for a couple days.

The military flight to Kandahar was aboard a massive C-17. On this kind of flight you’re more cargo than passenger. Our “stick”, other than myself, was composed of two dozen fresh faced regular Army soldiers from a Germany based Stryker unit. For most this was their first trip to a war zone. In full body armor and helmets we sat strapped into our seats trying to find a place for our feet among the tie-down chains securing a line of massive CONEX boxes filing most of the cargo bay. The next four hours would be spent staring at those containers trying to decipher the stamps, markings and packing lists plastered all over them. One of the labels I found particularly cryptic. Every container had one and it stated in bold white letters on a blue background Lloyds Certified Container Schedule. Each container also sported a menacing black stencil of a horned demon against a tan background, no doubt the logo of the unit expecting them. By the time the flight was over I was fixating on the pattern tiny water droplets had made in the thin coating of dust on their green sides. Jet lag was setting in.

The highlight of the flight came when the cabin lights went to dim blue and the Air Force loadmaster announced that we’d just crossed over into Afghanistan, a war zone. A nervous buzz and some high-fives made their way among the soldiers even as the airman sat back in his chair and picked up the movie he had paused on his laptop to make the announcement.

A couple hours later the airman announced our decent, which was steep, ear popping and sudden. The diagonal chains running forward grew noticeably taunt while the rear ones drooped slightly. In the wee hours of the 29th we landed uneventfully at Kandahar, gathered our gear and loaded ourselves onto shuttle busses awaiting us on the tarmac. After checking in at the terminal building the soldiers went their own way and I found myself alone in what seemed a largely deserted base. Now fully jet lagged I struggled through my gear trying to find the map the NATO/ISAF media embed folks had sent me with their location marked. I needed to report in to them. Out of the dark a Canadian soldier appeared and asked if I needed help and transport and next thing I knew I had my own bus and a Filipino driver. Together we deciphered the map and located the Media Center.

The first glow of dawn was starting to stretch across the eastern sky and a couple early risers were out jogging. I humped my gear into the Media Center compound and reported to the soldier on duty. He promptly put me in a room and I immediately fell asleep. I was now into the third calendar day of travel without rest. Jet lag had me in its teeth shaking me violently side to side.

No sooner had I nodded off a knock came at my door. I had a flight to Camp Bastion in one hour. My ride to the terminal was waiting. This flight would be on an Australian C-130. It would be loud, hot and blessedly short. By noon I was stumbling off the plane, being greeted by an IMEF public affairs officer and deposited in an air conditioned tent. By now I’m wired to the gills. No idea of the date or the day. Short term memory non-existent. Can’t find a thing. Hungry and dirty.

The public affairs officer, Navy Lieutenant Caires, led me to the nearby dining facility (DFAC) and we ate. After chow he points me in the general direction of my tent and departs for a meeting. I get lost. Completely. Camp Bastion’s Leatherneck LSA is a flat expansive maze of very similar looking buildings and tents. I leave the DFAC in the right direction, but that’s about it. I know I need to find the orange port-o-johns, the only distinctive landmark near my tent. I’m five years old again and lost at the zoo.

Eventually I find my tent and fall into a coma. The next morning I’m informed I have a flight set up later in the evening for Camp Delhi, the main base for the 3rd Battalion of the 1st Marine Regiment.

Somewhat rested, I head out to explore Leatherneck and see the Marines stationed here. Just down the gravel street border by concrete barriers is the compound of 3rd LAAD. It’s here that I find my first subject, Lance Corporal Chris Baker. Baker, a native of Greenville, Michigan is tall, wiry and sports a ready smile. A turret gunner, the lines of his goggles define the pattern of dirt and sunburn on his grinning face. I draw my first portrait of this trip. He’s everything this place is-raw, dusty and full of good humor. And I find myself a little embarrassed at my complaining over recent and relatively minor discomforts. I’ll blame the jet lag.

Return to Afghanistan

2010-07-17T20:24:00.002-05:00

I’ve been to war seven times. Tomorrow will mark the start of the eighth trip. A twelve hour flight from Dulles Airport to Kuwait International shoe-horned into an economy class seat will be followed by a shuttle bus ride out to a coalition air base called Ali Al Salem. Depending on the availability of military hops, a day or so might be spent acclimatizing to the heat and getting over jet lag while waiting on a flight to Kandahar Air Field.

My last time in Kandahar was during a frigid January in 2002. The former international airport had been blasted back to the Stone Age. Journalists and Marines spent nights sleeping on concrete floors and days huddled around a fire blazing in a dry fountain in the central courtyard of the main terminal building. Beyond great ovoid windows facing outward behind abandoned check-in counters lay the great expanse of Southern Afghanistan. The windows had the symmetry of a Mondrian painting, with the addition of bullet holes and shattered glass. With each setting sun a crazy quilt of blue and orange light would play through them across arched interior walls.

Life in and around the small coalition forces’ foothold in Kandahar was primitive. Toilets were plywood shacks open to the harsh winter wind. I met the commanding officer of the Marine Expeditionary Unit with trousers around my ankles sharing a lone roll of toilet paper. Off to one side of the ramshackle commodes was the “piss pit”, a shallow ten feet by ten feet depression in the ground filled with rocks and perpetually on fire, yes, on fire. Night time trips to the facilities meant following lines strung with blue chem lights and at least one serious stumble on bits and pieces of the blasted terminal building. Food was strictly MREs. Failing to sleep with water bottles and canteens meant you could look forward to going thirsty. You can’t drink frozen water.

Now, they tell me, the place has completely changed. Something called The Boardwalk offers civilized amenities. However, the old terminal building complex, which included a pocked marked mosque, remains much as I left it and is now fenced off. I wonder if land mines are the reason. In 2002 a day rarely passed without some unlucky guy stepping on a toe popper and losing a foot.

In 2002 I carried weapons to Afghanistan. This time no guns. I do have a good set of body armor and a new Kevlar helmet. A pair of well worn combat boots is joined by fresh pairs of hiking socks, but no guns. My gear has been packed and re-packed a dozen times. The new flak jacket, without a holster and pouches for both a pistol and rifle magazines looks strange. I had a big Velcro patch that says PRESS done up at one of the uniform shops out in Quantico town. We’ll see if it offers the same amount of protection as sixty 9mm and a hundred and eighty 5.56 full metal jacketed 55 grain NATO rounds. I once traveled with the Wall Street Journal writer Michael Phillips in Ramadi, and he had a piece of duck tape on the back of his flak with PRESS written with indelible marker in English. I asked him why it wasn’t in Arabic. His answer was quick and candid, “It’s there for the Marines”.

For the past three months I’ve spent a couple hours each afternoon at the corner gym on a stair climber in a flak jacket with a full Camelback water bladder attached. Nature’s been kind to me, but I’m eight and a half years older since last humping the wilds of Kandahar. The additional weight is about fifty pounds. Out in the field a three day pack will add another thirty or forty pounds. So, at least the battle load, without weapon and ammo, will be down to eighty pounds.

Although no longer in uniform, the hardest part of going to war remains the same; saying goodbye to loved ones and knowing my greatest passion, being a war artist, is the source of their greatest fears. My mother and daughter have been through this before, but they’re as anxious as ever. My fiancée Janis, although she’s been to war herself, is putting on a brave front, but I know she’s scared. She knows that war is far more difficult for those staying behind. Episodes of actual combat are few and far between. Those of us at war know where we are and our level of safety. Folks back home don’t and find their days and nights disturbed by constant uncertainty. Now it’s Janis’ turn to worry. I wish I had more than pat phrases to counter her fears. All I can tell her, as well as my daughter and Mom, is how much I love them, appreciate their support, and that I won’t place myself in too much danger. Unfortunately, one of those three things is a bold-faced lie.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2010-05-15T12:31:00.004-05:00

A while back I mentioned another very talented Marine, Max Uriarte. Max has recently joined the proud ranks of former jarheads, but he's also managed to create a unique contribution to Marine Corps lore and culture. Back in January Max started a witty and biting little web cartoon called Terminal Lance. Terminal Lance has since gone viral with well over three and a half MILLION hits. Max asked me to contribute to his site and my first cartoon is up today.

This cartoon is a commentary on the Corps I first encountered in the 70s and the one Max is exiting in 2010. While the fighting elan of Marines is as constant as the Northern Star, there have been significant changes in, shall we say, the quality of recruits and the moral fiber of the Corps over the last 40 years. The days of morning formations where a quarter of your fellow devildogs are UA (unauthorized absence) and barracks hallways fragrant with the smell of pot are long gone, but senior enlisted and officers still seem to find ways to keep non-judicial punishment charge sheets coming. Like recruiting duty, there must be quotas.

At anyrate, check out my cartoon scribblings over at TERMINAL LANCE.

Something Old, Somethings New

2010-05-13T15:35:00.003-05:00

I'm pretty close to having all my gear for the upcoming trip to Afghanistan bought and put together. Today UPS delivered the last of my required protective gear, a tan ballistic Kevlar helmet. On my feet for this trip will be a pair of well broken in desert boots and around the neck a shmeagh from my last jaunt. The ergonomic single strap bag for my art supplies and cameras is also a veteran of several campaigns.

A friend of mine, a retired Defense Intelligence Agency civilian, was kind enough to offer me his personal set of Dragon Skin body armor! I can't tell you how thrilling, and reassuring this is. Dragon Skin is the ultimate in protection from multiple threats.

Over the past month I've been going to the gym around the corner and spending a couple hours on a stair climber with my body armor on. You can imagine the questions, and looks I get.

Finally Found

2010-05-08T12:59:00.008-05:00

Corporal Leon Salisbury, Fire Team Leader, November 2005

Back in November of 2005 I took a photo of a Marine fire team leader with 2nd Platoon, Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment. I had just joined this platoon for Operation Steel Curtain. I always try my best to get all the information possible from each of my portrait subjects. Many of the photos I took would be turned into drawings. There was one drawing/photo where I failed to find out who the Marine was. Thanks, in large part to Facebook, I finally know who the subject of this drawing is . . . Corporal Leon Salisbury.

A few days after photographing Leon he was severely wounded and medevaced to Germany. He, along with 11 other members of his platoon, were wounded the morning of November 16, 2005. 5 others lost their lives in a hellacious firefight in and around a "hell house". On that morning Leon's squad, led by Corporal Javier Alvarez, were assigned to two tanks supporting Fox Company for the final push through the last 100 acre pocket of Ubaydi, Iraq. When the shit hit the fan Alvarez led his squad to the aid of the squad caught in the initial contact. Dashing into the confines of a farmyard they immediately came under fire and Alvarez, in the lead, went down after being shot in both legs by a hidden mujh. Leon, and another Marine, LCpl Justin Mayfield, quickly located and closed with the insurgent who had shot Alvarez. No sooner had they eliminated that threat, a hail of hand grenades started to fall around them. Alvarez picked the one closest to them and tried to toss it back through a window, but no luck. It exploded just as he got it over the sill and into the window opening. His right hand disappeared in a red haze, but the majority of the blast was deflected away from his squad. Alvarez would get the Silver Star for his quick selfless thinking. Leon, although severely wounded by the same blast, dashed to his wounded squad leader and tried to apply a tourniquet. Leon's a little hazy as to what happened next, other than he got dinged again, and although his helmet absorbed most of whatever hit him, it pretty much knocked him out. The next thing he knew he was in Germany. He underwent 6 surgeries for his multiple wounds.

Leon shared with me how his squad leader, Alvarez, even though he himself was recovering from multiple gunshot wounds and the loss of his hand, was bringing his wounded buddies "pogey bait" from the hospital snack bar. And this was mere days after they had been medevaced to Germany.

For his actions that day Corporal Leon Salisbury was recognized with the Purple Heart and a Bronze Star with Combat "V". Leon also endured 6 surgeries to deal with his wounds.

Yesterday Leon came to Fredericksburg to visit and showed me his shattered helmet and bloody flak vest. Leon's platoon sergeant, GySgt Robert Homer, made sure his Marine would have these mementos of his heroics. Homer was recognized with a Silver Star for his actions that fateful morning. Leon was on his way from Harrisonburg to Manassas, Virginia to spend the weekend with his Mom. He's currently a junior at James Madison University majoring in international relations and Arabic.

Corporal Salisbury with his shrapnel damaged helmet and helmet cover

Getting Even Closer

2010-05-06T06:53:00.005-05:00

4 Months into Retirement

I''ve cleared the final hurtle for going to Afghanistan as a free-lance correspondent. . .picked up my 6 month visa from the Afghan Consulate in DC last Thursday. My plan is to fly to Kuwait on or about May 23rd and then catch a military hop from Ali Al Salem Air Base into Kandahar. In Kandahar I'll check in with the NATO/ISAF Region South Public Affairs Embed Team and then, hopefully, out to Marine units in the field. I'll be in Afghanistan for the entire month of June.

Word has it that June should be a very active month in and around Kandahar City as coalition forces begin the process of "pacification".

One Step Closer....To A Bunch of Stuff

2010-03-18T17:28:00.003-05:00

Two weeks ago I decided to send out about 100 email queries to literary agents. I started by googling "literary agents, New York", followed by literary agents for Boston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Philadelphia and London. Most agencies prefer email queries. I found it important to read the particulars of each agency to see how and what they wanted to recieve. Most simply want a proposal. Some are interested in sample chapters. Almost all of them won't open attachments, so everything needs to be cut and pasted into the body of the email.

I recieved about 40 replies within the first two weeks. The majority of them were very short form-letter type responses. Of the 40 or so that emailed back there were 6 that enthusiastically offered representation. My co-author Don DeNevi and I have elected to go with Katie Boyle of The Veritas Literary Agency in San Francisco. Katie has placed books on both the New York Times and Times of London best-seller lists. As you can imagine I'm very excited.

On another note: I've been credentialed as a war correspondent by the Leatherneck magazine. Yesterday I recieved word from the media folks at the International Security Assistance Force in Afghanistan that I'm cleared to come over and embed with the Marines in Helmand Province. I plan on heading over as soon as I get my Afghan visa and the book deal is locked on. My plan is to use this trip as the basis for a final chapter and for the Master of Fine Arts program at the University of Hartford I'll be starting this summer.

And New Things Begin......

2010-01-10T12:53:00.003-05:00

Well, I'm now officially retired from the Marines. Among other things this means I am no longer constrained expressing my political sentiments and opinions. So first things first, I encourage each of you to contribute, as I just did, to the Senate campaign of Scott Brown . Brown is a Lieutenant Colonel and Judge Advocate in the Massachusetts National Guard. Each of us in the US military takes a sacred oath to uphold and defend the Constitution from all enemies foreign and domestic. As an armed combatant I fought the former with my blood. Now, as an educated private citizen, I can fight the latter with my treasure. I invite each of you to consider doing the same.

All Good Things Must End

2009-12-19T09:44:00.006-05:00

Last evening, at the National Museum of the Marine Corps, a retirement ceremony was conducted in my honor. The ceremony was hosted by my good friend Colonel Bob Oltman. Colonel Oltman was the commanding officer of 2nd Battalion of the the 1st Marine Regiment during Operation Steel Curtain. He's currently the CO of Quantico's Security Battalion. My fiance Janis did a super job of inviting everyone and overseeing a lovely reception.

What can I say...it's been a great run since I first enlisted on June 11, 1975. I signed up that day alone in the haze of a hangover and under the shadow of dropping out of a third college. Last night I departed active duty in the presence of family and a wonderful circle of friends and comrades. I was completely sober and basking in the glow of a career full of many accomplishments. Thank you Marine Corps. Thank you God. Time to move on.

Happy Birthday Marines!

2009-11-07T10:57:00.007-05:00

Deeds, McGlothlin, Lucente, Rogers and Ware. It is almost 4 years since you gave your last full measure of devotion in Old Ubaydi, Iraq during Operation Steel Curtain. Not a day goes by that I and all your brothers in Fox Company, 2nd Battalion of the 1st Marine Regiment do not remember, mourn and celebrate your lives and sacrifice.

This weekend I am the guest of honor at the Marine Corps Birthday Celebration being conducted in McAlester, Oklahoma by the Indian Nations Detachment of the Marine Corps League. In a few short weeks I will be leaving active duty in my beloved Corps. Tonight I am returning to where my career started, Marine Barracks, McAlester Naval Ammunition Depot. Although the Barracks was disbanded in 1977 and the base transfered to the Army, there is still a small group of dedicated former jarheads who come to together each year to celebrate the birth of our Corps, to raise a glass to fallen friends, to share well worn sea stories, and to keep a small light of memory lit in a remote corner of Oklahoma in honor of unglamorous duty performed with consumate professionalism during the Cold War. Semper Fidelis.

Please enjoy the Commandant of the Marine Corps' 2009 Birthday Message

Now I've Gone and Done It!

2009-10-11T10:26:00.003-05:00

Today I finally popped the question to my long suffering girlfriend, Janis. We became engaged at our favorite haunt, Hyperion Espresso. Janis, being the good senior NCO and combat veteran, had all the particulars of our nuptials worked out months ago......the only missing thing was the official proposal. So this week I got permission from her mother Dolores and her brother Carl. This was followed by a trip to the local newspaper, the Free Lance-Star and setting up an engagement announcement in the Sunday edition. I had to surprise her somehow, and I'm happy to report that the announcement in the paper did the trick.

We'll be tying the knot on October 10, 2010 at the newly completed chapel at the National Museum of the Marine Corps.

Here's the entry in the paper.

Finished......Sort Of

2009-10-01T12:39:00.005-05:00

The Grenadier

An actual Marine grenadier in combat during Operation Steel Curtain, Ubaydi, Iraq-2005

Well, the Grenadier is finished.....sort of. The next step in the creative process is to take what I've just completed to a foundry to be cast in bronze. This piece will be cast using the lost wax technique. The next step in this process is for a foundry to make a series of molds. These molds will then be used to cast hollow wax versions of what you see in the top picture. The wax facsimiles will then be coated, both inside and out, with silica. Once fully prepped with the silica the wax will be melted out as the ceramic is baked, hence the term lost wax. The final mold is then filled with molten bronze and allowed to cool. Once cooled the work is then hit with everything from large hammers to small delicate drills to dislodge the ceramic. In the final steps the bronze will be buffed, sandblasted, treated to an acid bath to create the surface patina, and given a final coat of bowling alley wax.

In future posts I'll show you the lost wax process as it unfolds.

Almost There

2009-09-09T17:36:00.005-05:00

I'm down to the last few additions to this sculpture. For all intents and purposes this piece, titled "The Grenadier", is finished. Originally it was going to be simply a Marine rifleman. But last week, thinking about my own battlefield experiences, I decided to put a pomegranate in the figures' right hand. During Operation Steel Curtain, while standing in a bombed out garden, I tried my first pomegranate. A heavily damaged pomegranate tree had a few ripe fruits clinging to its leaveless branches, and I decided to give one a try. It was delicious; despite the seeds you need to navigate around. But what does adding a pomegranate have to do with changing the piece?

What you're looking at here is the grenadier standing next to a heavily damaged pillar. The ground is scattered with chunks of concrete, spent shell casings, leaves and a branch with a solitary pomegranate still attached. The Marine has an M16A4 with a M203 grenade launcher attached. Why change the figure to a grenadier at the last minute? Simple. It turns out that the origin of the word grenade is the French word for pomegranate. The Spanish word for pomegranate, granado, is another word for grenade.

Getting There

2009-08-28T16:04:00.004-05:00

Here's a progress update on my most recent sculpture. Alot of time has been devoted over the past couple weeks to my approaching retirement from the Marines. Between jumping through the variety of administrative and medical hoops related to leaving active duty I've devoted time to fabricating this pieces weapon, a M16A4 and the three-point sling attached to it.

Please go over to Sergeant Kris Battles' blog Sketchpad Warrior and check out his latest field work from Afghanistan and the studio pieces he's working on. Great stuff!

Work in Progress

2009-08-03T15:32:00.005-05:00

Here's images of a sculpture I'm currently focused on. It stands about 23 inches high and shows a Marine rifleman with his helmet off. The piece will hopefully be more than that once completed with the addition of a rifle, an AT4 strung across his back and a shot up concrete pillar. This piece is loosely based on a series of photos I took of a LCpl Turchich leaning against a pillar catching his breath between assualts in Husaybah, Iraq during Operation Steel Curtain.

If you live in the Norfolk/Virginia Beach/Williamsburg region of Virginia please check out a show at the Peninsula Fine Arts Center featuring combat art (including myself and Sergeant Kris Battles) from the Civil War to the present called In the Line of Duty.

First Light

2009-06-08T09:37:00.004-05:00

Across the Threshing Floor: F/2/1 in Old Ubaydi

At the break of dawn on November 16, 2005 the Marines of Fox Company, 2nd Battalion of the 1st Marine Regiment headed into the small Euphrates River town of Old Ubaydi. In the ethereal glow of first light they worked their way across threshing floors and orchards pushing dozens of insurgents ahead of them into a village of mud daub homes and muddy farm yards. In a few minutes they would be in the fight of their lives.

New Work

2009-05-29T16:28:00.005-05:00

Lance Corporal Dustin Barr (now a sergeant), fire team leader, 2nd Platoon F/2/1
Staff Sergeant Michael Ventrone (now a CWO2 Marine Gunner), platoon sergeant for 3rd Platoon F/2/1
IED site in Hadditha
Afghans
Over the wall in Ubaydi, Iraq during Operation Steel Curtain
Range 400, Mojave Viper, 29 Palms, California
On the berm in Ubaydi, Iraq. Captain Ross Parrish and his comm guys on the morning of November 14, 2005.
Lance Corporal Guzman tosses in a grenade in Ubaydi, Iraq.
Mass casualty evacuation in Old Ubaydi on November 16, 2005

Lance Corporal Van Goghs

2009-05-13T10:32:00.005-05:00

A few days ago a fellow Marine warrant officer contacted me about a talented field Marine who's creating art for his battalion over in Iraq. Almost every unit has it's Lance Corporal Van Gogh, the kid who designs tatoos for his buddies, turns high school prom pictures into frameable sketches and creates the unit's Christmas card. I know this because long ago I was that guy. From time to time I hear about these talented Marines and this one, Lance Corporal Max Uriarte, has got what it takes to be a combat artist.

Here's a sample of his work.

Convalescing

2009-04-14T18:37:00.007-05:00

Well, after 55 years without ever having a broken bone I managed on Saint Patrick's Day to do just that. I broke the middle toe of my right foot..........very badly. It was what doctors like to call an "open wound fracture with tendon damage". Two weeks after having the bone set and the wound stitched up an orthopedic doctor informed me that it wasn't healing at all. This young rather humorous Army doctor of Irish descent put it this way, "The two pieces of bone would need to call each other long distance to have any contact." So, to make a long story short, I had surgery to pin the toe back together.

I think the blame lies with one of my brothers. A couple weeks ago Doug, a banker, sent me one of those chain emails meant to grant those who pass it on good luck, and bad luck to those who don't. As you may have already guessed, I failed to send the email on.

This week I'm back in my home studio after two weeks convalescent leave. I still can't drive or walk very far. So, in order to be productive, I'm sitting at my kitchen table doing watercolors and a series of pencil portraits.

Here's a sampling.

And yes, you may want to consider sending on those emails promising good luck.

Finished Lost Wax Bronze

2009-03-12T20:06:00.015-05:00

Final piece with coat of wax
Application of acid to darken the bronze
Heating up sandblasted sculpture in preparation for patina application
All put together and ready to be sandblasted
Getting ready to weld on the bandolier of ammunition
Welding the machine gun on to the main sculpture
Bringing back lost details
Chipping ceramic mold material from all the nooks and crannies
Breaking the mold

A sculpture that I've been working on for quite a long time was finally cast and finished this week. It depicts a Marine machine gunner shouldering a M240G at the moment he's stepping off for another assault. The primary job of this Marine is to establish a base of fire for his platoon by laying down a steady stream of suppressive 7.62 cal. rounds. Each fire team of 4 Marines has a light weight SAW (squad automatic weapon) that fires the lighter 5.56 cal. bullet. The 240 Gulf gunner provides a bigger punch and a longer range. It's also a far heavier weapon's system for the Marine to hump day in and day out. This piece stands 24" high and weighs about 50 lbs.

Pentagon Channel Documentary

2009-03-05T09:08:00.005-05:00

The Pentagon Channel documentary show RECON is featuring a 30 minute piece about combat art. Check it out.

Heros Honored

2009-02-03T20:56:00.004-05:00

Lance Corporal Joshua Mooi USMC 2nd Platoon, Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marines

On January 8, 2009 Lance Corporal Joshua Mooi recieved his Navy Cross. Beside Joshua stood two other Marines and a Navy Corpsman who were recognized for their heroic service with Silver Stars for actions taken on November 16, 2005. A fourth Silver Star was posthumously presented to the parents of Lt. Ryan McGlothlin. The ceremony was held at Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, California. You can read about the presentations here.

Small Christmas Gift

2008-12-23T19:09:00.003-05:00

Here's a link to an online catalogue of our combat art exhibit at the Navy Museum. I hope you enjoy it, and may all of you have a wonderful Christmas.

Go to War, Do Art

2008-12-09T18:11:00.006-05:00

Photo courtesy of Rob Curtis

This is the sketch I was working on when Military Times photographer Rob Curtis took the photos of me at the beginning of the video clip. Military Times has published this week an article about combat art.

Beyond Words

2008-11-23T21:13:00.006-05:00

This afternoon my girlfriend, a Sergeant First Class in the Virginia National Guard, called me to see something on the TV. Janis served an 18 month tour in Iraq. She had over 600 missions outside the wire with a civil affairs unit. Just outside the Green Zone in January of 2004, her vehicle was IED'd. Her interpreter Nahla, sitting behind her, died. The back of her head had been blown off. They were on the way to the Baghdad International Airport to pick up Nahla's fiance, an Army Lt. Colonel. Janis didn't cry that day. She was too busy calling in a medevac and securing the blast site.

Today she had tears in her eyes. Here's why......

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......whether you say oorah, or hooah, we, the veterans of the GWOT, share a common bond few others will ever understand.

A new administration is coming to the White House with hopes of making history. We who've made history wish them well. We pray that our sacrifices and successes will not be forgotten. We, for our part, can not and will not.

...and yes, I teared up too.

Article in Leatherneck

2008-10-28T20:17:00.004-05:00

There's an article about Sergeant Kris Battles and myself in the November issue of Leatherneck magazine. We're on pages 66-68. I also created the cover art.

This past weekend I traveled to New York City and had a wonderful evening with two civilian combat artists, Steve Mumford and Richard Johnson. Together we are the forming committee for a proposed International Society of War Artists.

Joshua Mooi....An American Hero

2008-10-16T14:35:00.005-05:00

Joshua Mooi

Old Ubaydi Battlefield, November 16, 2005 Operation Steel Curtain. The damaged building to the right (just left of the small plume of smoke) is the sight of the "death house".

On November 16, 2005 then Lance Corporal Joshua Mooi, without thought of his own personal safety, dragged under fire many of the wounded members of his platoon out from a "death house" in Old Ubaydi, Iraq. During his rescue missions Mooi's rifle was rendered useless after taking three AK-47 rounds. In this firefight between 2nd Platoon, Fox Company of the 2nd Battalion of the 1st Marine Regiment and insurgents 5 Marines gave their lives and 11 were severely wounded. The platoon commander, 2nd Lt. McGlothlin was KIA, the platoon sergeant, SSgt. Homer was severely injured by grenade fragments and virtually all their Navy Corpsman were wounded.

Today Joshua was gracious enough to phone and let me know that he has been officially notified that his heroic actions are being recognized with the Navy Cross, which is second only to the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Semper Fi Joshua......job well done!

It Begins...........

2008-10-05T12:00:00.004-05:00

Alfred Waud sketching at the Battle of Gettysburg-1863

The number of working war artists is small. Thanks in large part to the connectivity of the Internet we've been able to meet each other. As a result of this widening circle of associations we've decided to create an organization, The International Society of War Artists. Our plank holders include those sponsored officially by the military, individuals working for newspapers, independents, and former war artists. What we each have in common is an intense devotion to casting the artistic eye upon people and places during times of war. All of us have spent significant amounts of time in harm's way sharing the common lot of soldiers, sailors, Marines, and civilians. We trace our origins to Fransico de Goya, Winslow Homer and David Douglas Duncan.

New and Improved

2008-09-16T19:46:00.005-05:00

Here's new and improved version of watercolor I did while out in the field last month. It's slated to be the front cover art for a magazine this November. This image tries to capture a group of Marines at first light sorting their gear, saddling up and getting into formation.

Tomorrow evening the Navy Museum will be hosting a formal opening of a joint Navy and Marine Corps combat art exhibit. The Navy Museum will have a slide show of the art available on-line shortly.....so stay tuned.

Mojave Viper: Two Weeks at the Gates to Hades

2008-08-22T21:13:00.012-05:00

Trying to stay cool during the hottest part of the hottest day of the hottest month in the hottest place on earth

Sergeant Kris Battles hard at work
Mortar gun crew under cammie netting preparing for a gun shoot

81mm Mortar Platoon Marine saddled up for live fire training at Range Quackenbush
Weapons Company 2/25 Marine practices with remote control IED detection robot
Marines of Echo Company 2/25 do a dry run up Machine Gun Hill at Range 400

Portrait of Gunnery Sergeant Roger E. Hoke, Jr. Just prior to coming out to Mojave Viper he donated over a liter and a half of bone marrow to his brother. Read about it here.

For two weeks, from August 3 until the 17th, Sergeant Kris Battles and I participated in a training evolution called Mojave Viper. Mojave Viper is a series of demanding live fire exercises in the brutal desert conditions of the Marine Corps base at Twentynine Palms, California. We were invited to cover the training of 2nd Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment (2/25). 2/25 is a Marine Reserve unit preparing for a deployment to Al Anbar Province, Iraq. The unforgiving August heat and rugged terrain of The Stumps is the perfect place to do this.

Sergeant Battles and I covered the departure ceremony of the battalion's Gulf Company this past May. At Mojave Viper we were afforded the chance to cover their Weapons, H&S, Fox and Echo Companies. The overwhelming majority of Reserve Marines in this battalion are from the Northeastern States of New York, New Jersey, New Hampshire, Maine, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island and Massachusetts. Coming from Pennsylvania myself I found I had alot in common with these guys.

The heat exceeded 100 degrees everyday. 106 degrees in the shade was the mid-day norm. I wore the new Modular Tactical Vest. The MTV has gotten mixed reviews. For my part I can tell you it's heavy and when buttoned up sizziling in 120 plus degrees for hours in the back of an amphibious assualt vehicle with 20 other Marines it will suck every molecule of H2O out of you. You can see the Gates of Hades just a few feet away without a problem.

The battalion's Public Affairs Officer was kind enough to write and article about us. Check it out.

Two Down

2008-07-14T16:18:00.004-05:00

High Noon Raid, Iraq

Between Sunset and Moonrise, Wazir Pass, Afghanistan

I finished two paintings today. Both are oil paint on gessoed watercolor paper. This particular method was championed by the great American illustrator, Maxfield Parrish.

Day of Departure

2008-05-29T20:15:00.003-05:00

In addition to visiting with the artist Joe Kubert Tuesday Sergeant Battles and I covered the mobilization and departure ceremony of Gulf Company, 2nd Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment. The Reserve Marines of G/2/25 departed their homebase at Picatinny Arsenal for the Marine Corps base at 29 Palms, California. At 29 Palms they'll train for about 4 months before going to Iraq.

The festivities for the Gulf Company Marines and their loved ones started at 0600. The Marine Corps League had coffee and donuts waiting for the hundreds of friends and relatives who showed up in a light rain to send their Marines off.

A Day With Joe Kubert

2008-05-28T15:46:00.005-05:00

Myself with DC comic book artist and creator of Sergeant Rock, Joe Kubert

I had the great honor yesterday of meeting one of the greatest influences on my art. As a kid I loved DC comic's Sergeant Rock. Hours of time and reams of paper were used up trying to copy Rock and the men of Easy Company. The creator of Sgt. Rock is Joe Kubert and yesterday Sergeant Battles and I got to visit with him at his art school in Dover, New Jersey.

The gritty quality of the Sergeant Rock tales combined with Kubert's virtuoso draftsmanship and expressive inking left a deep mark on my artistic sensibilities. No one in the comic book universe can even approach the intensity of Kubert's faces.

Memorial Day

2008-05-25T18:19:00.003-05:00

Memorial Service, Afghanistan-May 2005

Gloam and Gloom

2008-05-15T19:06:00.007-05:00

Now that the sculpture I worked on for months is at the foundry I've been able to start a new three-dimensional piece and pick up on several paintings. The new sculpture is a composite of experiences of both wounded and killed-in-action Marines. More than once I've seen Marines gently cradling the head of a buddy as a corpsman works feverishly. I also share with you a painting of two leathernecks setting in for the night just after sunset under a rising moon surrounded by the beautiful hills and fields of eastern Afghanistan.

On to the Foundry

2008-05-04T15:52:00.004-05:00

Gulf 240 Machine Gunner sculpture prepped for transportation to foundry.

My latest sculpture is now at the foundry getting readied for casting. It stands 25" high. Although it's hard to make out, the base of the work has etched along each of the four edges the names of major locations in Iraq where Marines have served. The National Museum of the Marine Corps is planning an initial "artist's proof" series of six.

Sculpture Update

2008-04-17T21:03:00.004-05:00

This sculpture is 99% done! Whew! It has been an intense creative exercise figuring out how to shape and render a variety of materials, from skin and sinew to metal and cloth. I literally shaped every single round and link in the bandolier of ammunition as well as virtually all the muscles under the uniform. I can see why some sculptors stick to portrait busts.......it's soooo much simpler.

There's a couple of smaller details I'd like to point out. This is a M240 "Gulf" Marine Machine Gunner. These guys like to tuck a paint brush into the MOLLE attachment loops on the front of their Interceptor vests for weapons cleaning. The "D" ring to the right of the brush is for hanging his helmet from during a battle lull. There are two pouches for pistol magazines. One of the pouches is empty....it's mag is in the machine gunner's 9mm Beretta located in his "drop" holster. The pistol and holster are under his blouse. On his 3 day assault pack is strapped a poncho liner. Poncho liners are light weight quilted blankets that stand in for a sleeping bag while in battle. I made one of his trouser cargo pockets very full.....Marines tend to pack these large pockets with food for quick access during combat and it weighs the trouser leg down. Laced into his left boot is an extra dog tag and around his feet are spent shell casings. Finally, his trouser legs are "bloused" very low on his combat boots reflecting the constant shoot and scoot atmosphere of combat...he just doesn't have either the time or inclination to worry about how squared away he is.

Next week I'll be taking it very gingerly to the Wegner Foundry here in Fredericksburg, Virginia.

In the News

2008-03-10T19:44:00.003-05:00

My local newspaper, the Fredericksburg Free-Lance Star, published an article this Sunday about myself and Sergeant Kris Battle. Check it out. I'm sorry that I haven't published much of late. Sergeant Battles and I have been busy in our studio and actively preparing for our next trip overseas........to Afghanistan to cover the upcoming deployments of the 24th Marine Expeditonary Unit and the 2nd Battalion of the 7th Marine Regiment.

Also, here's a picture of the current state of the sculpture I'm actively working on.

WOW!

2008-01-21T11:16:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

2007-12-22T19:04:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to one and all. Since my last post I've continued to concentrate on sculpture. Sergeant Kris Battles, our other combat artist, deployed to Iraq in September and returned unscathed mid-November after 2 months with the very first Marine Osprey squadron to be fielded to a war zone. Sergeant Battles and I are now working out of a large and well equiped formal studio, north light and all, aboard Quantico.

My lovely girlfriend Janis and I will be spending Christmas Day with family in Pennsylvania.

My current project is a full figure of a Marine machine gunner. Several critical parts of the work, such as head and hands, are being done in wax. The 240 G machine gun is roughed out in balsa wood and hard wood dowels and will get a coat of wax. The remainder of the sculpture is in plasticine. The final product will be cast in bronze.

I leave you with a Christmas poem penned by a Marine. The poem was originally written by Lance Corporal James A. Schmidt in 1986. I also invite you to visit Major Mike Corrado's On My Watch Tonight YouTube site.

'Twas the night before Christmas; he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
And to see just who in this home did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sobering thought soon came to my mind
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine
Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan
I soon understood, this was more than a man
For I realized the families that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year
Because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn t help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice
I fight for our freedom, I don't ask for more
My life is my God, my Country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep
I watched him for hours, so silent and still
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red
And covered this Marine from his toes to his head
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold
With an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.

Tho' it barely fit me, I swelled with pride
And for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside
I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.

Half asleep he rolled over, in a voice clean and pure
Said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

HEROs

2007-10-03T19:02:00.000-05:00

Corporal Diana L. Kavanek, USMC

This evening ABC World News with Charles Gibson featured a wonderful story of courage, resilience, commitment and what eventually flows directly from them.....love. It is the inspiring story of Marine Corporals Aaron Mankin and Diana Kavanek. Although I didn't have the privilege of knowing Cpl. Mankin, I have met Diana. Then Corporal Kavanek (she and Aaron are now married)and I returned in the same group of Marines from the 2nd Marine Expeditionary Force (Forward) in February of 2005. In an age when the media seems so fixated on young adults mired in adolescenent excess it is heartening to know that ABC News is taking the time to tell this simple tale of genuine heros. Semper Fi!

You can read here more about what Diana did is Iraq. I am re-posting a sketch I did of her.

9/11 Memory

2007-09-11T10:29:00.001-05:00

Six years ago I was three stories up on scaffolding doing restoration woodworking on a Colonial era building called Hungars Parish Church. It was the most beautiful of September mornings; blue sky, dry balmy air with a slight breeze, and the sound of combines harvesting the golden soybean fields of rural Northhampton County, Virginia. At about 0930 a well worn Ford F-150 pickup truck pulled into the church's yard. This rural congregation had no parking lot....just a dirt and gravel entrance off of a countryroad unto freshly cut grass. An elderly farmed called out to us in a thick Tidewater accent (imagine a Canadian with a Southern twang) from a settling cloud of dust that we needed to come down and listen to the radio. At the time I was just a Marine Reservist, a weekend warrior who between monthly drills would grow back his goatee and work at my civilian job with a historic restoration company, Tidewater Restoration. I, like most of you, knew my life had been changed forever.

The only other day I remember this clearly was when JFK was assassinated in 1963. I was in Miss Rau's 5th grade class when a call came over the intercom to send three boys who were cub scouts down to the office. I was one of those boys. The principle, Mrs. Musselman, told us the president had been killed. At first I wondered if it was the president of the school board she was talking about? And if it was, why was everyone in the office crying? Then she told us to follow the janitor outside. He was going to instruct us in how to put the flag at half-staff. It was then we realized she was speaking of The President. That night I remember how, like 9/11, we were all glued to our televisions. And I recall the words of JFK, "ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country".

HBO and producer/actor James Gandolfini have created a documentary called Alive Day. You can go to their site and watch it for free. Please do. Freedom is not free. These are truly the folks who've risen to answer another generation's leader's challenge.

Persons of the Week

2007-09-07T19:25:00.000-05:00

On Friday evening myself and three other Marine Corps combat artists were featured as the ABC News' Persons of the Week.

The Skippers

2007-09-07T09:28:00.000-05:00

On Friday, 31 August, the two Marine officers who provided the inspiration for "The Skipper" stopped by the National Museum of the Marine Corps and signed the second casting of this bronze. Both have been promoted to major since I last spent time with their companies in Iraq, and are now attending the Command and Staff College at the Marine Corps University aboard Quantico. At the left is Major Ross Parrish, former "skipper" of F/2/1 and to the left is Major Phil Ash, of K/3/1. I served with Major Parrish in Operation Steel Curtain and Major Ash in Ramadi.

Our other artist, Sergeant Kris Battles, will be deploying back to Iraq very shortly for about 60 days. Sergeant Battles will be covering the first deployment of the Marines latest technological wonder, the Osprey. Kris has freshly posted some new and wonderful pieces over at Sketchpad Warrior. Please go check out his work and take a moment to wish him well.

Media Highlights and Project Updates

2007-08-28T07:06:00.000-05:00

The exhibition of Fire and Ice: Marine Corps Art from Afghanistan and Iraq has garnered some very nice reviews and media exposure. The James A. Michener Art Museum has two television and one radio piece posted to the exhibit's webpage on their site. So, if you'd like to see me in front of the camera and microphone go to http://www.michenermuseum.org/exhibits/fire-and-ice.php

Sculpture by Charles Sargeant Jagger

At the moment I'm working on two new sculptures. I've been particularly inspired by a WWI British sculptor named Charles Sargeant Jagger. In 1935 he published a "how to" book, which I was able to purchase through Amazon.com. His technique involves doing a full unclothed figure followed by dressing it in both uniform and gear.

Last month I attended an ecorche workshop at Studio Incamminati, a Philadelphia fine arts atelier, conducted by painter Robert Liberace. The term ecorche had never crossed either my mind or lips prior to signing up for this incredible class. Ecorche is French for flayed. Robert showed us how to create a figure from the bones up. His working knowledge of the skeleton and muscular system was as expansive as mine was lacking. So....I'm trying to make up for lost time. Here are the two pieces I have in progress.

Figure done in sculpey over wire armature. The sculpey can be heated with a hot air gun and hardened as you build up layers.

240 Gulf Machine Gunner-work in progress, plasticine over a sculpey/wire armature. I built the boots piece by piece, starting with the sole, adding the heel cup, and then the tongue and side panels. Right at the end I'll add the boot laces. The leg at the left will have a drop holster added, hence the flattened pocket. The right leg cargo pocket is hanging low.....bursting with everything from extra food to ammunition and AA batteries.

. Battle Pause in Husayba

Another medium I'm experimenting with is called yupo. Yupo is a synthetic paper that's very adaptable to watercolor. It allows for dramatic "puddleing" effects and its brillant white surface is the ideal compliment for watercolors.

Overwatch, New Ubaydi, Operation Steel Curtain-watercolor on yupo

Final Process and Finished Product.....In Bronze

2007-08-08T16:43:00.000-05:00

Here is the final process and finished version of my first foray into sculpture. The local foundry that cast the piece is renowned for their skill in the lost wax technique. "The Skipper" now resides in the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General James Conway's office at the Pentagon.

The mold from which the wax casting is created.

The wax figure is touched up. The throat protector had to be molded seperately.

The wax figure coated and ready for the bronze pouring.

Initial bronze version fresh out of the mold prior to the patination process.

Sandblasted and ready for the patina to be applied.

Highly skilled foundry craftsman, RJ, preparing the surface.

Figure ready for the application of the final patina.

Whole figure heated........

Sprayed with acid......
.....and buffed out by hand using scotch bright and steel wool. This process is repeated multiple times.

Patina complete......almost.

Last step........heated paste wax.

It's Been A While

2007-07-25T19:26:00.000-05:00

It has been quite a while since my last post. A lot has happened. Where to start?

First, my original blog, mdfay.blogspot.com, was blogjacked. As my previous post announced, thanks to a BBC link, my site's viewership went stratospherically off the charts. This, it turns out, was a mixed blessing. Someone decided that perhaps they could make a little extra fun money off of Fire and Ice. So they hacked in, changed the password, and made it theirs, sort of. There is no content at my old site, just a variety of links which I suppose are earning someone about three cents a month. Blogger was good enough to locate my content and repost it to mdfay1.blogspot.com with a new password.

Myself and Janis at the Michener opening.

Since the last posting I've been occupied primarily with all the preparations for the opening of my current exhibit at the James A. Michener Art Museum in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. The show, aptly titled Fire and Ice, opened the evening of July 7 with many friends and relatives gracious enough to come and share the festivities. I was honored to have, among the guests, the mother of Lance Corporal Nicholas G. Ciccone. She came to the show to see for the first time the portrait I did of her late son.

The artist with Mrs. RoseAnne Ciccone, mother of LCpl. Nicholas G. Ciccone

My Mom was in attendence as well. She's the lovely smiling woman in the center of the picture.

Several media venues in the metro Philadelphia area have done features and reviews of the show. WHYY, the Philly NPR station, did a five minute piece you can listen to at their website. The Broad Street Review did a review, as did the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Allentown Morning Call.

In my next post I'll bring up to date on my first sculpture, "The Skipper". The piece is finally cast and turned into the National Museum of the Marine Corps Art Collection.

Art, Misery and the Marines

2007-04-17T11:17:00.001-05:00

“How to Be Miserable”

In my younger days dodging the draft, I somehow wound up in the Marine Corps. There’s a myth that Marine training turns baby-faced recruits into bloodthirsty killers. Trust me, the Marine Corps is not that efficient. What it does teach, however, is a lot more useful.

The Marine Corps teaches you how to be miserable.

This is invaluable for an artist.

Marines love to be miserable. Marines derive a perverse satisfaction in having colder chow, crappier equipment, and higher casualty rates than any outfit of dogfaces, swab jockeys, or flyboys, all of whom they despise. Why? Because these candy-asses don’t know how to be miserable.

The artist committing himself to his calling has volunteered for hell, whether he knows it or not. He will be dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt and humiliation.

The artist must be like that Marine. He has to know how to be miserable. He has to love being miserable. He has to take pride in being more miserable than any soldier or swabbie or jet jockey. Because this is war, baby. And war is hell.

-- Steven Pressfield, The War of Art: Winning the Inner Creative Battle. New York: Rugged Land, LLC (2002).

Welcome BBC Readers...We've Topped 100,000 Visitors!

2007-04-15T20:53:00.000-05:00

This weekend the BBC was gracious enough to host a slide show with a sampling of my artwork, and a link to this blog. My 'sitemeter' has gone off the scale with visitors. It is very interesting to read the wide variety of comments being left here at Fire and Ice. I want to assure all of you that I do read the comments and appreciate the earnestness and honesty informing the thoughts of the overwhelming majority of folks who've taken the time to leave a word or two. I want to invite those of you who may take exception to my political views to at least take the time to view artwork and photographs scattered throughout 125 postings.

Sometime this Saturday my viewership topped 100,000 and I want to recognize this milestone. I started this blog in September of 2005 merely as a way to keep family and friends informed of my adventures, and to have a place fellow Marines could go to see more of my artwork. It became so much more than I could have imagined and has led to things such as being featured on the BBC. It is somewhat ironic that the very first 'combat art' I ever sketched was a drawing of a sailor and a Marine aboard the USS Guam Christmas Eve 1990, during Operation Desert Shield, listening on a small shortwave radio to the BBC.

Listening to the BBC, Christmas Eve 1990

Maybe Islam Is Right About Pork

2007-04-04T16:44:00.001-05:00

It's been quite awhile since I dragged my soapbox out and had a good rant. Here goes it.....

High up on my list of useful idiots is commentraitor Bill Maher. A couple weeks ago, after a rather lame bombing attempt on the life of Vice-President Cheney at the Bagram Airbase, he opined and lamented had Cheney been assassinated many lives would be saved. I have in the past commented here at Fire and Ice that the goals of Terrorism and Islamofascism are almost purely strategic in nature...namely making it on to the nightly American news with scenes of mayhem and carnage, and or deeply informing and influencing the words spewing from the mouths of pundits. Tactically they cannot defeat our troops going toe-to-toe, but strategically they can, and have eroded the fighting elan of our national will. Suicide bombers and their handlers know that tactically their murderous missions are exercises in futility. GIs will continue to walk the mean streets of Kabul and Baghdad, and locals will return to market places and mosques. The attack in Bagram on Cheney was tactical, however folks like Maher manage to turn these criminal events into strategic political victories. I leave it to you dear readers to decide who's demise would perhaps result in a lowering of terrorist instigated deaths. It's doubtful if Al-Qaeda et al is trying to influence Cheney's thinking with their suicide bombs.....influencing Maher and his ilk is another thing all together.

On another day, while channel surfing, I again came across Maher being interviewed by the equally useful idiot, Keith Olbermann. Maher was lamenting the Bush Presidency, which he characterized as a failed six year experiment in stupidity. He insisted that the next president had to be 'bright'. Now I'm absolutey certain that somewhere in his vast storehouse of genius opinions and lexicon of brilliant commentaries Mr. Maher has spoken with great eloquence about all the threats endured by democracy itself during the past six years. It's interesting that he is now advocating governance only by the bright.....this actually has a name, and it's not democracy, it's called an aristocracy. I wonder if Maher is contemplating an electorate limited to only the bright as well? (We certainly don't want the NASCAR guys voting in another numbscull now do we. No, what we need are only the uber-bright to vote, perhaps like the Yale students who burned copies of the Bill of Rights and the Ten Commandments on Ash Wednesday, and then marked their foreheads with the ashes.) Jim Crow laws did the trick for close to a century in the American South. Maybe it's time to revisit the concept.....let's call them Bill Maher laws....you got what on your SATs? Sorry, you can't vote. Or how about an IQ data base? 120 or higher gets to vote.....everyone else gets tickets to a monster truck show.

Congress passed a bill last week to basically defund the war in Iraq and set a withdrawal date. Apparently the bill was also heavily laden and lubricated through the system with generous portions of pork. Speaking of pork, a popular ABC talkshow, The View, has been getting a lot of attention due to the comments by one of it's commentators, comedian Rosie O'Donnell. Who knew she secretly acquired PhDs in History and Political Science. Perhaps Islam is right after all....pork in it's various forms may be the source of our fall from grace on the world stage.

Two other interesting things I came across recently are; 1. the insatiable appetite the Chinese and the Russians have for deforesting vast stretches of virgin woodlands (remember this next time you're at IKEA), and 2. The concerns the Olympic Committee has expressed about the pollution in Beijing and the effect this could have on athletic performance. I find these two issues interesting in light of the push by certain parties to aggressively confront global warming. Perhaps an inconvenient truth they need to address is only democracies are even remotely interested in doing anything substantive about environmental issues. Makes me wonder why these same folks are so keen to find fault with actively spreading democracy. Unless of course they assume that the best model of governance for the inforcement of enviromental initiatives is something a little more on the dictatorial side.

Finally, Iran is releasing the British sailors and Marines it illegally seized 13 days ago with great fanfare. (The Bush Administration needs to find out who their PR firm is. Churchill is no doubt rolling in his grave.) Syria is claiming to have brokered the Iranian release of these hostages. These are two nations we GIs know all too well are behind much of the chaos in Iraq. I liken this episode to a bank robbery where the bank begs the robbers to not only keep the money, but to deposit it in a high interest account. One thing our enemy can and do bank on is the predilection of some folks living over at the fourth estate to spend a little time marching in or closely behind the fifth column.

I hope all of you have a lovely Easter weekend. Janis and I will be heading up to my Mom's in Pennsylvania for an Easter Sunday feast with family and friends porking out on.......you guessed it, ham!

Heros

2007-03-22T13:50:00.000-05:00

Sergeant Jeremiah Workman and Colonel John W. Ripley

I spent the better part of yesterday in the limelight doing a painting demonstration at the National Museum of the Marine Corps in the Global War on Terrorism Gallery. Dozens of visitors stopped, asked questions, oo'd and ah'd and generally fed my already over-stuffed ego.

The real treat for me however was seeing my old boss, Colonel John W. Ripley USMC (retired). Colonel Ripley, following his retirement from active military service, took on the helm of the Marine Corps History and Museum Division and sheparded us through the process that resulted in the National Museum of the Marine Corps becoming a steel and concrete reality.

He was waiting to take out to lunch one of the Marines who works at the museum, Sergeant Jeremiah Workman. What do these two stellar Marines share in common? They're both recipients of the Navy Cross, an award second only to the Congressional Medal of Honor. Amongst Marines the Navy Cross is virtually equal to the MOH. This is especially true in Colonel Ripley's case. On Easter Morning 1972 then Captain Ripley almost singlehandedly stopped the entire North Vietnamese Army dead in its tracks by blowing up the Bridge at Dong Ha. The phrase "Ripley at the bridge" is as well known to Marines as the Chosin Reservoir and the Iwo Jima flag raising.

These two gentlemen were gracious enough to let me photograph them. One of the great joys of being a Marine is experiencing the constancy of the Corps that transcends time and place, and having the opportunity to stand momentarily in the shadow of giants such as these two men. It is a truism that people of this calibre are humble even to the point of embarrassment over the fuss made with regards to their heroics.

The Inspiration

2007-03-20T19:29:00.000-05:00

Captain Ross Parrish USMC-Commanding Officer F/2/1

Captain Phillip Ash USMC-Commanding Officer K/3/7

I finally tracked down pictures of the two captains who served as the inspiration for "The Skipper". I served with Captain Ross Parrish's company, Fox 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment both in Operation Steel Curtain, and in Hit for the December 15th general election and its lead up. Captain Phillip Ash is the CO of Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, and I spent time with his Marines in Ramadi. These guys are the marrow of this nation.

The plasticine bust was handed over to the Wegner Foundry here in Fredericksburg this past Friday. In about a month the piece will be cast, after an rather involved process of creating a mold, working up the wax version that comes from the mold, and the final "lost wax" method of pouring a bronze bust. Once the bronze piece is created an additional process takes place creating the final patina. Sculpture is very collaborative. I'm on to my next piece.

Another reason I've been off-line this past month is due to having fallen in love. Yes, the old Gunner is head over heals in LOVE. Over Christmas my daughter and Mom were giving me a hard time about my singleness.....so I signed up for Match.com with the moniker of Jarheadmike. In very short order I met my sweetie, GIJanis, a Sergeant First Class in the US Army Reserve who spent 18 months in Iraq. She's got a blog of her own called American Commentary.

Our Current Debate

2007-02-18T22:37:00.001-05:00

I have tried to stay away from commenting about the great debate occuring in both Houses of the US Congress with regards to the War in Iraq and the "surge". In war there are two concepts which, though intimately linked, are essentially different and at times in direct conflict with each other. One is called tactics and the other strategy.

In previous posts I have spoken about how the "I support the troops, but not the war" mentality says in effect "I support you tactically, but I oppose you strategically". Our enemy, both in Iraq and elsewhere, is not trying in any way, shape, or form to defeat us tactically. They are trying to defeat us strategically. They cannot stand toe to toe with us on the battlefield and win. However, they can defeat us in the realm of perception.

The stragegy of our enemy is simple.....use terror with impunity against any and all targets.

To vote against the surge, to vote to leave Iraq without stabilizing it is a vote in support of our enemies strategy......terror. We will be saying simply this, terror works. Building schools, rebuilding infra-structure, organizing and carrying out free elections, liberation from brutal dictators, etc, is a failed strategic position.

Finished......The Skipper

2007-02-18T14:48:00.000-05:00

Well....here it is, sculpture #1 is done! I showed it to the curator of the Marine Corps Combat Art Collection, Charles Grow, on Friday and he was very, very happy with the result calling it Rodinesque. He just about made me swear a sacred oath to not touch it! (I have a nasty habit of not leaving well enough alone.)

Charlie is himself a combat artist, having covered Desert Shield, Desert Storm, Haiti, Somalia and Operation Enduring Freedom. He's also an accomplished photographer as well. There is no higher accolade for me than his thumbs up. He's asked me to contact a foundry here in Fredericksburg and start the process of getting it cast in bronze.

The piece, as I worked on it over the past couple weeks, became a haggard rifle company commander. Over the years I've tended to focus almost exclusively on sergeants and below, the grunts. But I've also carefully observed the late twenty-something captains who carry the burden of command with weary grace. The young Marines are lovingly lead and often painfully mourned by their commanding officer, the "skipper". Skipper is a term both respectful, and filled with warmth. It's the un-official moniker for a Marine captain.

As you look at these photos of the piece try and imagine it without the white plaster support. When it gets cast it will only be the plasticine portion.

*Click on images to enlarge

Trying My Hand at Sculpture

2007-02-11T12:22:00.000-05:00

For the past few weeks, between working on the upcoming Michener exhibit, I've researched and began trying my hand at sculpture. Here's a series of images showing the progression of my first piece, from armature to about two thirds completed. I'm using plasticine to create the initial piece with an eye towards having it cast in bronze at a local foundry. The finished bust will stand about 16 inches high and show an exhausted Marine just in from a patrol with a wicked bad case of "helmet hair"

Our two other artists, Major Alex Durr and Sergeant Kris Battles, are hard at it in their respective studios. You can check out Battles' work at Sketchpad Warrior and Major Durr at www.alexdurr.com .

Step 1: Create armature attached to a lazy Susan

Step 2: Flesh out armature with newspaper and masking tape

Step 3: Cover newspaper form with plaster cloth

Step 4: Apply initial layer of plasticine facial masses and plains

Step 5: Establish basic features and likeness

*Double click on images to enlarge

Plutarch and Pogo

2007-01-21T18:05:00.000-05:00

Every night, for the past couple weeks, I've ended the day reading Plutarch's Lives. I returned from vacation with a couple musty cardboard boxes filled with the complete Collier's 1908 edition of The Harvard Classics. I inherited these elegant leatherbound volumes from my now deceased step-dad, Andy Frantz. His father purchased the collection shortly after returning from the Great War, marrying and setting up the home that Andy grew up and ultimately ended his days in. Andy was a former Army para-trooper and salt-of-the-earth Pennsylvania Dutchman. Judging from their condition these books were probably placed on their shelves sometime in the early 1920s and never troubled again until I boxed them up in December '06. Andy was famous for a vast library of corny jokes, but not for comments even remotely footnoted to Plutarch's Lives, let alone anything else in The Harvard Classics. Andy was no Charlie Tuna.

It was only by pure chance that the first volume I pulled out was #12, Plutarch's Lives. As of last night, thanks to the absence of any interferring romantic life, I finished reading all the Greek lives. As mentioned several times in earlier postings, I'm a BIG fan of Victor Davis Hanson. As a practicing academic Professor Hanson is a world authority on the Greeks. Very early in the War on Terrorism he penned more than one cautionary article referenced to the Peloponnesian Wars on the propensity of democracys to eat their young, and at the end of the day be their own worst enemy.

Reading Plutarch's accounts of four Greek Athenian leaders was sometimes difficult.....even in English. But one thing was very clear, these leaders were often in dammed if you do and dammed if you don't situations. Time and again these Athenian leaders found themselves succeeding in some far off battlefield while simultaneously the object of naysaying and convoluted conspiracy theories back at home. They would either return from a decisive campaign to a judicial process resulting in a death sentence or a ten year ostracism, or having gotten wind of pending proceedings, fleeing to safer shores. And just as predictably the Athenians, when faced with some new evolving threat, would recall them from exile to be followed by still another cycle of conspiracy theories, accusations, ostracism and exile. The net result, judging by the final outcome of Phase 5 of the Peloponnesian war in 404 BC, was not good for the Athenians. Pogo, a cartoon character speaking a couple millennia later in 1970 probably summed it up in his famous quote, "We have met the enemy, and he is us."

The last of the four historical accounts is that of Alcibiades. With this tale the final drama of the Peloponnesian War is acted out. Alcibiades has been recalled from one of his exiles and finds himself at the head of a mighty Athenian armada. Yet again, no sooner is he back at the helm of Athenian forces and far afield that political machinations at home set in motion another, and as it turns out, final irreversible and disasterous undermining of Alcibiades' leadership.

Here's the quote from Plutarch's narrative that signals the downward spiral to defeat for Athenian democracy:

They fancied, every day, that they should hear news of the reduction of Chios, and of the rest of Ionia, and grew impatient that things were not effected as fast and as rapidly as they could wish for them. They never considered how extremely money was wanting, and that, having to carry on war with an enemy who had supplies of all things from a great king, he was often forced to quit his armament, in order to procure money and provisions for the subsistence of his soldiers.

In short, the Athenians had unrealistic expectations and little or no awareness of the reality of the situation in the field. This next quote is the gist of the spin Alcibiades' political enemies, capitalizing on disenchantment at home, promoted about the state of the war under his command:

Addressing the people, he represented that Alcibiades had ruined their affairs and lost their ships by mere self-conceited neglect of his duties, committing the government of the army, in his absence, to men who gained his favor by drinking and scurrilous talking, whilst he wandered up and down at pleasure to raise money, giving himself up to every sort of luxury and excess amongst the courtesans of Abydos and Ionia, at a time when the enemy’s navy were on the watch close at hand. It was also objected to him, that he had fortified a castle near Bisanthe in Thrace, for a safe retreat for himself, as one that either could not, or would not, live in his own country. The Athenians gave credit to these informations, and showed the resentment and displeasure which they had conceived against him, by choosing other generals.

Despite his removal from power Alcibiades attempted to advise and warn the new leadership about the coming battle, only to be rebuffed and rebuked:

He advised them to remove the fleet to Sestos. But the admirals not only disregarded what he said, but Tydeus, with insulting expressions; commanded him to be gone, saying, that now not he, but others, had the command of the forces. Alcibiades, suspecting something of treachery in them, departed, and told his friends, who accompanied him out of the camp, that if the generals had not used him with such insupportable contempt, he would within a few days have forced the Lacedæmonians, however unwilling, either to have fought the Athenians at sea, or to have deserted their ships.

Alcibiades' expertise is rejected and his prescience ignored. Athenian defeat is utterly complete. Hindsight for the now humiliated Athenians is 20/20, as this final quote reveals, with the all to late realization they had met the ultimate enemy, themselves.

The Athenians, in the meantime, were miserably afflicted at their loss of empire, but when they were deprived of liberty also, and Lysander set up thirty despotic rulers in the city, in their ruin now they began to turn to those thoughts which, while safety was yet possible, they would not entertain; they acknowledged and bewailed their former errors and follies, and judged this second ill-usage of Alcibiades to be of all the most inexcusable. For he was rejected, without any fault committed by himself; and only because they were incensed against his subordinate for having shamefully lost a few ships, they much more shamefully deprived the commonwealth of its most valiant and accomplished general.

I find myself thinking in particular of Winston Churchill. I imagine that feisty curmudgeon in all his jowly glory with a cigar stub in one V for victory hand and a Thompson submachine gun at the ready in the other. He, like Alcibiades, was the kind of guy you'd find in glass case with the words "Break Open in Time of War" stenciled in big bright blood red red letters on the front. I have a pretty good idea Winston read Plutarch's Lives. Ole "W"'s probably no match for Churchill, but he's as close as we're going to get this time around.

Here at the end of another day, contemplating further reading of Plutarch (the Romans come next), I can't help but wonder which I should entertain more hope for, my love life or the political will and resolve of my beloved country. In at least one of these I'm perhaps my own worse enemy. Which one? That I leave to you dear reader.

A Thousand Cats

2007-01-20T12:04:00.001-05:00

Hey all. Sorry for being off-line for so long. I took some much needed vacation over the holidays. Since coming off of leave time has been quickly devoured with all the sundry tasks related to putting together a museum show. There's a catalogue to design, all the pieces for the show photographed for a variety of uses, and written material to update and create. My "artist's statement" needs to be expanded to reflect two additional deployments, and the head curator of the hosting museum, the James A. Michener Art Museum, asked for a half-dozen text panels to accompany the show. The framing of new pieces, and eventual layout, appraising, insuring and transportation of the entire show has to be arranged, financed and scheduled. The catalogue has to be finished and a printer engaged. AND, I'm writing an article about another project I was instrumental in, the Marine Corps Combat Art Prints 2006, for the March issue of Leatherneck magazine.

Although the show is six months off, there is a sense of urgency behind getting the lion's share of exhibit preparation done by the end of February. Why is that? This February 18th will find me down at Camp Lejeune going through pre-deployment training. Sometime during the month of March my boots will find themselves back on the ground in Iraq covering the "surge" for approximately three months. Sergeant Battles, our deployed artist, is transitioning home and I'm the next of our three combat artists in the rotation cycle.

Like most of you I follow the news very closely. The other morning Michelle Malkin appeared on the Fox News morning show to talk about her recent visit to Iraq. What she related, both at her website and in the Fox interview, reflect my "boots-in-the-dirt" experiences. In truth, the war will be won or lost not in the back alleys of Baghdad and Ramadi, but here in the political mean streets of America. For myself I find no greater clarity with regards to the present state of American politics than in the incredibly lucid writings of Victor Davis Hanson.

For most GIs there is a gross disconnect between our real-time experiences in Iraq and the way the situation is portrayed and percieved on the homefront. The morale and dedication of those actually conducting the mission is high while at the same time the corresponding will of the American body politic is deteriorating. How is this possible? I had a journalist explain it to me this way, "if there's a thousand cats and there's one up in the tree, the one in the tree gets covered." One of our History Division historians, Lt Col Kurt Wheeler (a Harvard grad), posted recently about his up close and personal impressions of the progress of the mission and the sentiments of the Marines in Iraq that bears witness to the stories behind the thousand cats on the ground. Dr. Sanity did a great expose' January 19th on this cognitive disconnect with respect to current events entitled Bambi Meets Godzilla and Other Weird Cartoons of the Modern World, you may find interesting reading.

At anyrate, as one of the thousand cats not up in the tree, I promise to continue to tell my story.

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-21T20:08:00.000-05:00

Recon Hill by Charles Grow This is pen and ink work at its very best.

Emergency Medical Center by Peter Michael Gish Colonel Gish's watercolors are as good as anything Sargent ever did.

Mockup for Leatherneck magazine Halloween issue during WWII by Tom Lovell

Corporal Duff Chapman by John McDermott That young/old look etched on the face of a Marine on Okinawa

"Straggler" by Donald Dickson WWII Marine on Guadalcanal

"Country Slim" Guillory by Ben Long

Captain James K. Hall by Henry Casselli Drawn from life after an intense night of combat in Vietnam

The past three weeks have found me working on the initial "to do" checklist for a museum show of my work slated for next summer. On December 4th I met with Brian Peterson, the head curator for the James A. Michener Art Museum in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. The Michener Museum is world renown for its collection of Pennsylvania Impressionist paintings, and the creations of internationally recognized woodworker George Nakashima. The Pennsylvania School of Impressionism is also known as the Bucks County, and the New Hope Schools. The exhibit will be July 7th thru October 21, 2007. I hope many of you living in the Mid-Atlantic region will get a chance to see the show. Doylestown, New Hope and nearby Lambertville, NJ make for a great romantic weekend trip.

The show will feature a cross section of pieces from my four deployments over the last five years. At the suggestion of Mr. Peterson we're also including a selection of works by other combat artists from the Marine Corps Combat Art Collection that have been an inspiration to me. The images I'm posting today are a few of the pieces that have deeply influenced my work.

Sergeant Kris Battles continues to post some wonderful images and commentary over at his blog Sketchpad Warrior. Please go over, give his work a gander and leave him a nice Christmas greeting.

Mortarmen at Haditha....Finished

2006-12-01T18:47:00.000-05:00

"Danger Close" Oil on canvas, 20x16

The title of this finished oil painting is "Danger Close". Danger close is a phrase used when friendlies are dropping things that go boom, whether 2000 pounders or 81mm mortar rounds, just about on top of your position. The tube of this gun is as vertical as it can get, and what goes up must come down.......in this case very close.

The past couple weeks I've steered clear of ranting about the present state of affairs engendered by the recent mid-term elections. Like alot of you I'm more than a little burned out with the current state of politics in the world....especially in the Western World. Victor Davis Hanson hits every nail on the head with his recent commentary Losing the Enlightenment.

I doubt if Hanson reads Fire and Ice, but he eloquently touched on virtually every situation that has set my teeth on edge since 9/11 with regards to the so-called liberal progressive left, the greatest benefactors of Western Civilization. He speaks of their rampant complacency and self-loathing, the malaise of perfectionism, the inability to confront evil as evil, and the basic ignorance of how our collective bread gets buttered in the first place. Please go and read this piece!

Sergeant Kris Battles has just returned from an extended time out in the "goo" and has made a lengthy entry (with art to follow) over at his blog Sketchpad Warrior. You can also view and listen to Sergeant Battles talk about his experiences at a site called Ends of the Earth Productions.

Photo......As Promised

2006-11-22T10:35:00.000-05:00

History and Museums Division Field History Detachment (I'm back row, far right)

This past Saturday evening my Marine Corps Reserve unit had its annual Marine Corps Birthday celebration. One of our members, Major Joe Winslow, surprised us with the presentation of medals and membership in a newly created military order, the Military Order of St. Nicholas. (A photo of the event will follow.)

The precedence for this medal and order goes back to the George Medal of Guadalcanal fame. Major Winslow in his civilian career is an uber talented industrial/commercial designer and fabricator. You can check out his company's website here.

Here is the background for the Military Order of St. Nicholas according to Major Winslow:

Similar to the George Medal of WWII, this is an informal medal to recognize the the efforts of Field Historians.

The medal is based on an Iraqi Army badge. The Marine Corps EGA is super-imposed on a Persian star, surrounded by palm fronds, from under which radiates the bright rays of the desert sun. I hand sculpted the medal in plaster, poured a firing mold from concrete used to rebuild parts of the MEF(fwd) HQ building, and workded with Seabees and their torches to cast the first prototype-all this aboard Camp Fallujah, literally while the camp was at times under mortar and rocket fire. The silver was shipped to Iraq by a metal dealer in Texas. The final medals were cast by a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant Guadalcanal veteran.

The Society is named after Colonel Nicholas Reynolds, who drafted the first Field Historians for Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom, and saw to it that they were deployed to the opening salvos of what has turned into a rather long and historic engagement....

The Society is an association of Field Historians who have deployed to combat zones in support of Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom, and others, who have served the History Detachment in a beneficial manner. Form and function is similar to the Artillery Order of St. Barbara. All that being said, it's generally a way to ensure we have yet another occasion to get togther for a beer or two.

National Museum of the Marine Corps Pics

2006-11-18T10:35:00.000-05:00

Last Monday I spent the day doing a "gallery talk" of sorts at the newly opened National Museum of the Marine Corps. I was invited by the educational staff to share about my experiences as a combat artist and to work with kids wanting to draw a picture to send to the Marines in Iraq and Afghanistan. For those that are new to Fire and Ice, my academic background and occasional civilian career is in art and special education.

A good friend and coffee shop compatriot, Robert Martin, a photographer for our local newspaper, The Free-Lance Star, was on assignment covering this first day the museum was open to the general public. If you go here you can see a slide show of the pictures he shot, which include two of yours truly.

War Rant Officer

2006-11-14T18:59:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone, sorry I've been off-line for a bit. Myself and two historians spent the better part of last week touring the various activities aboard the US Naval Base at Guantanamo, Cuba. We visited the Marines manning the fence line, the Joint Task Force detainee facility and walked the Cuzco Wells Battlefield of Spanish American War fame. The Marines of the security force company graciously invited us to and paid for our attendance at their Marine Corps Ball on 10 November.

All this activity took some of the edge off the election results. Though expected, the turn-over of Congressional and Senatorial power to the Dems is disappointing during this time of war. They'll no doubt outlaw war, and we'll all be able to go home and I'll be able to stop my war rants.

As might be expected, there isn't much I can share with you substantively about our visit to Cuba. I can tell you that the conditions under which the terrorist detainees live are far better than you can possibly imagine. And, if you compare their detention with the treatment of our few unfortunate POWs (torture and beheadings), the difference statistically would have to be expressed in astronomical percentages.

Unfortunately my digital camera has had to be turned in for repairs, so until I can borrow another these postings will be short on pics. However, if you go over to the Leatherneck Magazine website, you can see a two page spread of my work appearing in this month's issue. Click on the "Contents" section top left of the page, and then click on "38 Faces in a Combat Zone". Note: click on the "Faces in a Combat Zone" and the images will enlarge.

Then and Now

2006-11-01T14:41:00.001-05:00

Then-1945 Flags of Our Fathers

Now-2006 Banners of Our Brothers

Go Army! Hooah! (I never thought those words would ever cross these old jarhead lips!)

Few things are as powerful in communicating an idea or a sentiment as imagery....music comes close, but pictures are worth the proverbial thousand words. And there are those few images that manage to speak volumes and arrive on the scene with perfect timing. Here are two.

My career in the Marines has encompassed a number of fields; infantry mortarman, bookkeeper, helicopter avionicsman and crewchief, classified materials custodian, and now combat artist. You would probably assume that being a middle-age artist running around in the thick of a fire fight with 20 year olds tops the list of challenges I've faced.....WRONG. The toughest job, bar none, ever served up by the Marines to me has been recruiting duty.

I won't regale you with war stories from the recruiting trenches.....and there are plenty. My old retired gunny buddy and I every now and again brainstorm the idea of writing a sitcom based on this unforgiving duty. In the course of an average week recruiters get exposed to and involved in situations worthy of a Greek play...Irony, Tragedy and Comedy...it's all there in spades.

By the end of my tour I was actually going through the process of legally immigrating to Canada. My wife at the time was a citizen of the Great White North and we were Nova Scotia bound. Why share this with you? Because after 3 years of working 6 and 7 day weeks from sunup to many a midnight I was completely burned out with what seasoned recruiters refer to as the greatest threat to democracy and western civilization; Moms of America. For the better part of three years I bit my tongue listening, in one form or another, to how enlisting in the military was a waste of time and talent. If elitist upper middle class condescension could kill I'd be a dead man many times over.(It was amazing to me how many parents still thought we were recruiting from the inside of judges chambers.) I recruited in the whitebread Washington, DC suburb of Fairfax County, Virginia. The attitudes that people go in the military by default and not design, and somebody elses kid should serve was rampant. During that tour I managed to be Marine Recruiter of the Year twice. I was pretty good at countering this mentality......but at the end of the day I was toast.

So, little wonder the good senator from Taxachusettes hit a raw nerve with me. He apparently apologized today. Vice-President Cheney, someone who can be funny, had a great one liner about "he was for the joke before he was against the joke". We can now add that he was against the apology before he was for it. Waffles anyone? The bottom line for me is that he voiced a prevalent and pervasive sentiment meant to play well in the ears of the Dem's constituency, a college campus crowd. His hand got caught in the cookie jar. That's the only thing he's probably genuinely sorry about.

I don't think many in the military really give a hoot one way or the other about this apology. The sentiment that joining the service is a waste is something all of us have had to deal with in one form or another, and often with those closest to us. It's a first cousin to "I support the troops but not the war" mentality.

At the end of the day we're just left feeling a little like the cavemen characters in the GEICO Insurance TV commercials....readily stereotyped, slightly forgotten and easily marginalized. Little wonder that just as there are few atheists in foxholes, there are even fewer Democrats.........and I should know, I was once both.

Legitimize.....Delegitimize

2006-10-31T08:53:00.001-05:00

First, let me preface my following commentary with a cut and paste definition of the word "legitimize":

legitimize
verb
legalize, legalise, decriminalize, decriminalise, legitimize, legitimise, legitimate, legitimatize, legitimatise

And of the word "delegitimize":

de·le·git·i·mize (dl-jt-mz)
tr.v. de·le·git·i·mized, de·le·git·i·miz·ing, de·le·git·i·miz·es
To revoke the legal or legitimate status of.

Yesterday I listened to an interview that the Vice-President, Dick Cheney gave to Fox News anchor Neil Cavuto. Cavuto invited a former U.S. senator from the loyal opposition to comment on the Vice-President's remarks. This former senator continually refered to the jihadist thugs in Iraq who are killing our sons and daughters, and murdering Iraqi citizenry with horrific impunity as "insurgents". The rhetorical drift of his wordplay was to delegitimize our rationale for being in Iraq.....which is to fight terrorists and Terrorism. What he neatly glossed over is the fact that Iraq is a sovereign nation with a duly elected government....a government, however flawed and imperfectly evolving, that has asked us not to leave quite yet.

What this former politician has also managed to do, in delegitmizing our presence, is to legitimize the status of our enemies from terrorists to insurgents. Although an insurgent isn't quite up to the legal pedigree of a lawful belligerent, it is a sight better than a mere terrorist. Joseph Goebbels, Hitler's deft propogandist excelled at this sort of slight of hand.......Final Solution is ever more palatable than Holocaust. The fact that the Islamic terrorists in Iraq, as elsewhere, are doing any and all manner of heinous depravities on a minute by minute basis apparently pales in comparrison to the politically expedient need to grant them an upgrade in status by delicately decriminalizing their tactics and methods. The strategic victory and ongoing tactical incentives the loyal party of opposition is handing the enemy is incalcuable.

Vice-President Cheney voiced the opinion that the upsurge in US and Iraqi deaths in the run-up to the mid-term election is a calculated effort on the part of the enemy to influence voting here in America. The Dems may not see themselves as the ultimate manifestation of broken American will and resolve, but the enemy most assuredly does. Net result.....GIs and Iraqis die, even as CNN and politicians attempt to capitalize on the very garbage they are being spoonfed by a savy enemy.

As if that weren't enough......another U.S. senator yesterday publicly delegitimizes our GIs serving in Iraq with the following statement:

“You know, education, if you make the most of it, if you study hard and you do your homework, and you make an effort to be smart, uh, you, you can do well. If you don’t, you get stuck in Iraq.”

Our courageous sons and daughters, volunteers and legal belligerents all, are now lowered to some dreg-like mercenary status; not quite criminal, but certainly well on the way. Hey little Billy, stay in school do your homework and you won't grow up to be a .................... (you fill in the blank).

So there you have it; terrorists legitimized into insurgents, and our citizen soldiers, sailors and Marines delegitimized from dedicated patriots into losers and slacker miscreants straight out of The Dirty Dozen. (I would like to extend the benefit of the doubt to the two senators alluded to in this rant, but I can't; both attended Yale and both are law school graduates. They are cut from the same bolt of cloth and have made words, with all their ramifications and power, their life's work.) Well, at least the rest of you can do your homework, study hard, wash behind your ears and make an effort to vote well next Tuesday. Me? As the salutorian of the 1971 graduating class of Salisbury High School in Allentown, Pennsylvania I can't wait to get back to Iraq and away from pesky ole Mom and my homework.

(Speaking of Iraq......Sergeant Battles has posted more drawings.....man is he good!)

Now That I'm Just Watching Fox News

2006-10-28T10:02:00.001-05:00

Last night, now that I'm just watching Fox News, I caught an interview Billy O'Reilly did with Bill Maher. I'll be honest, up to that point I really had no opinion of Mr. Maher other than being marginally aware that his take on things tilts to the left. The original reason Maher was appearing on Mr. O'Reilly's "The Factor" was to discuss Maher's canceled appearance on Katie Couric's CBS evening newscast. Couric apparently has a weekly session where people of public note are encouraged to speak freely on a topic of their choice. Edgy stuff no doubt. Maher's choice was religion, and the CBS folks suddenly weren't for free speech with quite the same zeal they probably enjoyed whilst brainstorming the concept in a room full of marketing and demographics wunderkinds.

At anyrate, Mr. O'Reilly gave Mr. Maher thirty seconds to make his (predictable) point. At this juncture we'll momentarily pause as you imagine what Maher's (cue the Jeopardy Do-Do-Do-Tum-De-Dum music) well nuanced cutting edge theory on religion and the world might possibly be.

After listening to his thirty second diatribe, and believe me that was plenty of time, I felt as if I knew Bill Maher.......thirty plus years ago in college. He may have actually stolen his idea from me, although I probably filtched it from a college professor in order to later impress a date with the size of my very big open educated sophmoric mind. At anyrate (drum roll please!), here it is courtesy of Mr. William Maher's big intellect......Religion is the cause of all the death and destruction in the world. Religion is mental illness. Well Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot and Hitler must be breathing a collective sigh of relief in the seventh level of Hell.......godless systems ARE the way to go after all. Herr Marx, your "opiate of the masses" concept lives on in the risen Maher!

He adroitly dodged a pointed rhetorical question posed by O'Reilly about the sanity of Mother Teresa, and to his credit, acknowledged Rosie O'Donnell's assertion on "The View" that American Christians are as dangerous as Islamic jihadists is patently absurd.

Now if we could just do something about those pesky volcanos, germs, stray asteroids and the incessant dictatorial demands of time and gravity....hey, maybe Mother Nature, just like Mother Teresa, just needs some quality time with a good shrink.

What I found most interesting about Mr. Maher was the fanaticsm of his belief......which, dare I say, reeked of religious fervor and a condescending smarter-than-thou elitist mentality. A mentality that perhaps has more to do with the failings and horrific transgressions of any worldview, philosophy or religion than the actual precepts of any such system. A very human failing every religion cautions against.......pride and it's wicked cousin, arrogance.

Whoa, time to climb down off this rapidly elevating soap-box. I am reminded by the angels of my better nature that those without sin should cast the first stone......and as at least one of my readers will surely counsel me....the kettle should not be calling the frying pan black. So, Mr. Maher, forgive me, I'm off on this beautiful Saturday to do my penance....two rolls of quarters and a couple weeks worth of laundry.

New Combat Artist in Iraq

2006-10-26T18:04:00.000-05:00

Our newest Marine Corps combat artist, Sergeant Kristopher Battles, made it to Iraq this past weekend. I first met Kris early last winter as a direct result of political commentator Michelle Malkin featuring my milblog at her website. Kris checked out Fire and Ice and sent me an email inquiring about the Marine Corps Combat Art Program. It seems that not only was he a trained practicing fine artist, but a former jarhead as well. One thing led to another (you can read about it at his blog) and Kris, the married father of three, found himself back in the big green machine. He's a good Presbyterian, so the concept of pre-destination falls neatly in line with his highly motivated sense of destiny and devotion to the combat art mission. Kris is presently getting his sand-legs under him at Camp Fallujah. Jet lag has to be endured and learning his way around the sprawling Fallujah base mastered before heading out to the field and into the goo. You can stop by his blog, Sketchpad Warrior, and follow his adventure in both image and word. He posted today, so go on by, take a gander and leave a couple words of encouragement. Also, if you'd like to see his civilian art visit the website dedicated to his landscape and portrait painting.

I'll be heading down to Cuba the end of next week for short visit to produce art of the Marines who guard and patrol the environs around GITMO. Because I won't be in town for the election November 7th I went ahead and voted this past week up at the Fredericksburg town hall. I won't tell you how I voted, but I will give you a hint. A good pal of mine, a retired Marine gunny, forwarded an email to me last week....maybe some of you have seen it.....the gist of it simply says that in the world there are three types of folks; sheep, sheepdogs and wolves. Well, this old sheepdog certainly didn't cast his lot this mid-term election with a certain political party that would do well changing it's mascot to a sheep. I hope all you fellow sheepdogs and sheepdog breeders get out and vote. As for you sheep......the slaughter's down the road to the Left.

With today's posting are images of a work-in-progress titled "Danger Close". If you think you know why I picked that title leave your explanation in the comments section.

Danger Close: oil on canvas, 20x16, work-in-progress

Danger Close: under-drawing

Never Again

2006-10-19T15:12:00.001-05:00

It's official, I will never again watch CNN. Last night CNN aired enemy footage showing the death of an American soldier by sniper fire. CNN has posted a lenghty justification. We are at WAR, there is no justification. The only word sufficient to describe CNN is pawn.....as in pawn of the enemy. They no doubt believe they are players on the world stage when in truth they have simply been played. In the Marine Corps we have a word reserved for organizations and individuals we hold in lowest regard and with the highest disdain.....maggots.

Things That Go Boom

2006-10-15T16:47:00.000-05:00

During my four War on Terrorism tours I've spent several lovely afternoons with EOD (explosive ordnance disposal) teams. There's nothing quite like a really good explosion to make one appreciate chemistry. EOD guys, like Navy Seabees, are surely among the most unsung heroes out on the frontlines. Everything the grunts discover EOD has to blow up. They stay busy, very busy.

Today's painting shows two of these professionals getting charges ready to blow an insurgent cache in the hills above Hit, Iraq. This cave, probably carved by eons of water flowing down to the Euphrates, was accessible from a single sinkhole opening. They prepped massive charges of C-4 and then suspended them from metal rods laid across a series of half a dozen jagged holes blown open to gain greater access to the underground labryinth. A good time was had by all.

A 96....Thanks Mr. Columbus

2006-10-06T11:43:00.000-05:00

Work-in-progress: Guardian Angel EOD Marine carrying unexploded Iraqi mortar rounds

Operation Steel Curtain-Lull in the fighting, enough time for a fresh "dip" of chewing tobacco

In a few minutes I'm going to put out a couple days worth of cat food and leave the bathroom tap on just a smidge for my little buddy, Roddy. I'll also load the car with a Nike overnight bag, a few things on hangers and little 3 day packback with art supplies. The cat, HATES to travel, and all this stuff going out to the car will send him scurrying to one of his favorite hiding places. Little does he know he's staying home this time.

The Federal Government does this wonderful thing a couple times a year......4 day holiday weekends......in the military we affectionately call them 96s. The one that started today at 1200 is for Columbus Day.....thank you ! Thank you Chris for sort of discovering America. My Dad gave me a book way back in the early 60s called They All Discovered America. Seems every one and his brother discovered this side of the planet long before our good Italian explorer and I found myself believing in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy long after any illusions about Columbus were dispelled. Perhaps what Columbus is celebrated (or loathed) for is not so much for his gift for exploring, but for his gift for promoting.

My plan is to spend some time with my daughter in and around her college in Pennsylvania (at her invitation no less) and enjoy the Fall scenery in rural Central Pa.; hence the art supplies.

I leave you with a new portrait drawing and the current state of a work-in-progress called Guardian Angel.

Monday's Marine

2006-10-02T14:28:00.000-05:00

I have a large folder with pictures of Marines tagged as prime portrait material. I'm presently working on a couple oil paintings and part of that process is waiting for the paint to dry, or at least set up tacky enough to move on. My oils are based on a simple technique called fat over lean. Early stages are painted with oils thinned with turpenoid and drying medium. Later stages involve thicker applications of paint. A couple pieces I'm wrestling with are in final stages.....so the paint is more direct from the tube and hence takes longer to set up. To fill the down time I've decided to start a series of finished graphite drawings based on these photographs. The images almost all are from times out in the goo when sitting down and doing a life drawing is simply out of the question.

Today's drawing shows a Marine squad leader (note the microphone) taking a quick look at his guys during a momentary lull in the fighting last November in Husayba, Iraq. After looking at this face think about the twenty-somethings you see at the mall....there's no comparison.

Post-entry: Several weeks ago one of the good readers of Fire and Ice posted the comment "When will we stop praising the warriors, and praise the peacemakers?" in response to the post Wounded Warrior. It is quite evident here at Fire and Ice that I, and many of our readers, celebrate warriors....especially in light of the current unfolding historical struggle with Islamofascism. Today, Tuesday, via a wonderful blog called Dr. Sanity, I read a revealatory commentary by Victor Davis Hanson, and the good Doc's accompanying thoughts. Both of these accomplished and lucid thinkers have articulated how the self-proclaimed peacemakers of today's world, the unhinged left-leaning world of feel-good-wishful-thinkingocrats, have both created and nurtured not peace, but the conditions for war. What stands between us and the caliphate chaos of Islamic fanaticsm is not George Soros, MoveOn.org, the DailyKos, the Democratic Party, Code Pink or any other slice of the left's soft underbaked marshmallow pie, but hard young men and women willing, like the Marine corporal pictured here, to strap on a gun, 60 pounds of gear and under the most hostile conditions of heat, dust and death keep reaching for another can of Old Fashion All-American Whoopass. Hanson makes the keen counter-intuitive observation that at the end of the proverbial day it'll be NASCAR guys keeping the legacy of the Age of Enlightenment alive. You're either with these kids or against 'em.....which is it? Drivers, start your engines!

Friday Finish

2006-09-29T15:13:00.000-05:00

Today's been both interesting and productive. When I opened my email this morning I found an inquiry from the cartoonist Gary Trudeau's Doonesbury website. On or about October 8th they plan on launching something called "The Sandbox". Here's the description given to me by their representative:

"Welcome to our command-wide milblog, featuring comments, anecdotes, and observations from servicemembers currently serving in OIF and OEF. This is GWOT-lit's forward position, offering those in-country a chance to share their experiences and reflections with the rest of us. The Sandbox's focus on is not on policy and partisanship (go to our Blowback page for that), but on the unclassified details of deployment -- the everyday, the extraordinary, the wonderful, the messed-up, the absurd. The Sandbox is a clean, lightly-edited debriefing environment where all correspondence is read, and as much as possible is posted. All content, no matter how robust, is secured by the First Amendment."

Much like the New York Times' TimesSelect website's Frontlines section and the BBC's Radio5 Live, I've been invited to contribute, which I've agreed to do. To be honest, I'm not a big fan of Doonesbury at the moment, but in the interest of keeping the dialogue open between the right and left I'll gladly participate. At some point the healing in our body politic has got to start.

Today President Bush gave a very spirited speech to the Reserve Officers Association. I found myself saying "Amen, brother" quite a few times. Hey George, please add my name to your comment today to GOP leaders, "I will not withdraw, even if Laura and Barney and Warrant Officer Mike Fay are the only ones supporting me."

Here's a finished drawing I started yesterday and completed today.

Two For Tuesday

2006-09-26T15:56:00.000-05:00

Woman Marine Listening to a Convoy Brief-Al Asad (graphite on paper)
Guardian Angel-Detail of a work in progress (oil on linen)

Here are two pieces I worked on today. The Marine Corps is a pretty diverse organization. I'll let them speak for themselves. Enjoy.

Wounded Warriors Continued

2006-09-15T15:20:00.000-05:00

Those of you who've been sharing this journey with me for awhile will recall that I was promoted to Warrant Officer last December 1st by my nephew, 1st Lieutenant Richard "Joey" Fay, at the headquarters compound of 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment (2/7). We held our little ceremony at sunset and then returned to the battalion COC (command operations center). Within moments of entering the building frantic radio traffic began to flood the COC. All around the battalion's AO several other promotion ceremonies were also taking place, and at one of them an IED had just detonated with deadly and horrific results. Ten Marines were dead and there were scores of severely wounded.

My nephew, Joey, was the battalion adjutant....think of him as the human resources director. In his capacity as "adj" he was at the eye of the storm. He was up all night and well into the next day identifying the KIA and the WIA, doing all the necessary paperwork and initiating the chain of events that would eventually lead to families being notified of the correct status of their loved ones.

One of the Marines wounded that day,Lance Corporal Joseph M. Grady, is the subject of today's image. The other images is another of Winslow Homer's Civil War pieces, "Our Watering Places".

Bloody, But Unbowed

2006-09-14T10:09:00.000-05:00

Sergeant Todd Herman USMC

At the moment I'm working on a series of portraits of Marines currently undergoing intense medical care and rehabilitation. These images are the result of visits back in mid-August to both Bethesda and Walter Reed hospitals. The project, as it has evolved, will result in four portraits, each depicting a different type of wound. Hopefully they will round out the comprehensive combat art collection exhibit that will grace the grand opening of the National Museum of the Marine Corps.

Our first day was spent at Bethesda, and Sergeant Herman was the Marine NCO-in-charge conducting the morning formation. He quickly organized the guys willing to be sketched and photographed, and identified a quiet well lit space to use as a make-shift studio. Sergeant Herman has been enduring almost two years of multiple facial reconstruction surgeries.

We couldn't have crossed paths with more fearless individual. I remember studying his face as I was doing my initial "you guys are still in the fight and we want to capture your experiences" orientation speech. What really, in hindsight, drew my eye to him was his eyes and the light that rose up in them as I did my little mission brief. This NCO clued in and went to work immediately implementing a plan to accomplish my commander's intent.

In the final analysis what made our trip a success was the fearless and unvarnished emotional availabilty of these Marines. Sergeant Herman instinctively knew that the history of the War on Terrorism was now written in the bold and unmistakeable scars on his face and head, and was unashamed. Let me also go so far as to say that in these scars (which he ryely assured us has not interfered with his romantic life) are writ great words of hope and glad promise for all Americans. At the end of the day our nation, despite the ephemeralilty and expedience that seem to permeate present times, still produces Sergeant Hermans.....folks imbued with timeless values, courage and endurance.

Herman is the personification of William Ernest Henley's poem Invictus, which I leave you with.

OUT of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Exactly

2006-09-13T18:42:00.001-05:00

Just listened to Senator Harry Reid's (Dem-Nevada) highly divisive political screed about President Bush's 9/11 speech. In a nutshell.....he, Reid, accuses the President of partisan politicizing and using the Oval Office as a "bully pulpit". This cartoon gets it exactly right.

My Muse?

2006-09-13T14:01:00.000-05:00

This is my cat....yes, I'm a cat guy. His majesty's name is Roddy. Source of the name....no idea, my daughter picked it out. I wanted to name him Whitman. At anyrate, judging by the way he saunters back and forth across my drawing table with regal impunity, Roddy, unlike many of the kind followers of Fire and Ice, is unimpressed by my doodlings. Thank you all for your support and compliments.

Wounded Warrior

2006-09-12T18:32:00.000-05:00

The muse was with me today. Despite my jingoistic warmongering neocon ranting of late she hasn't deserted me.