You were born lucky. You are an American. So you own the world. Well, we should, anyway. Get over that, Jack. Oil is different now. The tough talk given by the world to Americans, heck, civilization is that there is a new order coming, and we should be wary. We should always be wary. Here is another moment in the american antiques history lab of life that shows how one GI and his crew prepare and plan for some excitement that just seems likely to make kids who have never known joy to smile. Or we could all get court martialled.



Are you in, guys? Great. Here is what we do. Pull down the blinds. When 1948 began the Canadian born Economic Adviser to the President John Kenneth Galbraith in his book The Affluent Society mentions that the world ran out of food that winter of 1947 and into 1948. And then to top off that world wide famine crisis, rather than cooperate Joe Stalin pulled the Berlin corridor treachery and sealed all borders to Berlin. For the first time perhaps since the Middle or Dark Ages civilized people were starving to death and there was little any one nation on earth that alone could do. Except America.

All the world was utterly out of funds, food, essential supplies, bandages, life saving medicines, strength and in fact in Europe and elsewhere very short of live able bodied men to till the fields especially in regions where the most massive losses in battles had bee. We can only now watch the old war footage from the comfort of our favorite chair as if this some curious behavior of some strange species on some celestial far away place that has nothing to do with me. And then cock sure and foolish you go ride the train to Berlin to see just what all the fuss is about.

You are Canuck Joe and you want to hang with some GI Joe's and just well say hang in there guys. I came in from the outside world to say keep your member up. Thanks Canuck. You went to Dorseyh High in LA you say? Yep. I am a Dorsey Don. If you were 22 then you had read that orphans and widows found themselves being blown up in the fields of Europe, there were still so many unexploded weapons every field you tried to till or walk. And now at age twenty two you ride the train to Berlin.

It is a head game to feel this You now travel on your train, east from Hamburg and a rebuilding city with still many vacant spaces downtown. But then you head straight east. You pass through the border. It appears as a clearing in the forest. An opening in a series of three, not just one, high towers with soldiers with machine guns watching you pass through the barbed wired very high fences. That's it? Piece of cake. And then you pass into the dark ages. Ox carts, old men and women, shacks, dirt roads, all grey.

And then the soldiers come on the train at your far end, They notice you: you should have listened to your consulate and taken the airplane. But you to have the true honest experience didm't you. Sigh. Yes. Did your bride enjoy the honeymoon? Not each step of the way. By the time the soldiers get to Phoenix 9you0 you are sweating. Your keen mind and ears keeps hearing the soldiers ask the locals a word you are puzzled about. You have your passieport that you hear them ask for. But then they keep saying permit and that must be something for the locals. Until....

The Man with the voice of questions looks sternly down at me. He does not hold a machine gun, but the other gentlemen do. In the voice absolute power the voice from the uniform says passieport. There tis. Then he also asks me permit. I show him my passieport. He waves that away. The men with the machine guns know they now are part of the action: they all keenly lean into the scene. My bride does not seem happy, and I am not feeling all that well myself. I realize there is a pecking order, as there appears to be a second in command, and he has a machine gun.

He is asking if it is now his turn, and I feel somewhat closer to the man with the stern face and voice. I smile. Nada. Bad move. I wonder if they have washroom facilities as that sense is abuilding. But I realize there are more pressing matters. After more or this, and increased sweating on my part, a female soldier appears. He outranks them all and they fade a bit. I hope she has not lost all her feminity, but that alas is a vain hope.

The moral of this story remains constant: good is nicer than evil. So it eventually, after much pain and death, always prevails. This is one example of pure goodness that caught the Russian bear utterly off guard. They never did figure out a winning response. Tanks, machine guns and threats cause one to shrink back into momma's arms. America, great momma training must have been placed intothe hearts of that airman whose name might as well have been Joe. Thank you, Joe. God bless you. We know He always has.

That aircraft you just missed on that crazy low arc, Joe, you almost clipped that tree. I know, I know, but. Yes. But. BThere but for the grace of God: and might I add America, all keeps coming out well. So it must be something in what comes down to us from the past as if down from the heavens. Take wonderful first Englishman to feel American Sir Walter Raleigh. Please. Into your hearts more deeply. America would not have been created in time as Spain pushed north and France pushed south. But America happened in spite of it all, does now exist, otherwise Communism would have swept all the world, starting with the remaining bits of Europe. So what. So what? Today there would e no civilization anywhere on this dear green (mostly) earth.

And we say, building up that emotional energy of love and respect for our finest while we all wait in pain, thanks to every GI Joe out there now as then. Just well doFinally. Everywhere? Yes. Every where. It is in the wishes of Allah also.