And biding my time...
On Nov 9, 7:31 am, Hollywood <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > Gaar, > > You'll be in San Marino counting your money. > > On Nov 9, 8:20 am, Gaar <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > > > >http://www.ejectejecteject.com/ > > > A FLAG, ON A HILL > > > As Civil War battles went, it was a small and insignificant affair. > > But in terms of story – and especially, in terms of lessons – it’s one > > of my favorites. > > > The war had not yet fully turned in October of 1864. And even though > > Stonewall Jackson had been dead for well over a year – killed by > > mistake by his own men at the Battle of Chancellorsville -- the > > Shenandoah Valley still belonged if not to Jackson then to Jackson’s > > ghost, for it was there that he and his “foot cavalry” had won their > > eternal place in Valhalla. Jackson’s tactical brilliance and the > > endless series of Union routs still hung like clouds of gunpowder in > > the valleys and hollows of the Shenandoah. > > > And so it came a no surprise to either the Union or the Confederate > > soldiers on the banks of Cedar Creek to see, once again, a blue rout – > > men throwing down rifles and knapsacks and running for their lives, > > dodging perhaps the few hissing musket balls fired at their backs but > > completely unable to escape the jeering and the insults and that high, > > horrible Rebel yell, as that pack of feral wolves descended on their > > camps, drank their coffee, ate their rations and sat going through > > their personal effects, admiring photos and reading letters from their > > sweethearts. Not a loss, but a rout. Another rout. The latest in an > > ongoing series of routs without end, or so it must have seemed. > > > The Union general was a young man, new to his command, and who in > > point of fact had been back in Washington during the defeat. But as he > > rode toward the sound of the guns that morning, curiosity turned to > > apprehension, and apprehension to something worse, as he crossed Mill > > Creek and came upon a low hill, to see before him “the appalling > > spectacle of a panic-stricken Army.” > > > Phillip Sheridan was his name, described by Shelby Foote as a man with > > the face of a Mongol Warlord and a hair so short and dense it made his > > head look like a bullet with a coat of black paint. > > > Sheridan’s first instinct was to form a straggler line and prepare for > > the final Rebel assault. But the Rebels were too busy celebrating. And > > after he caught his breath, Little Phil noticed something surprising: > > not a broken and routed army, fleeing for their lives, but small > > groups of men boiling fresh coffee, speaking to one another calmly and > > cheering him as he rode by. > > > One of his aides described him at that moment: “As he galloped on, his > > features grew gradually set, as those carved in stone, and the same > > dull red glint I had seen in his piercing eyes when, on other > > occasions, the battle was going against us, was there now.” > > > You bet it was. > > > The closer Sheridan came to the battle, the more cheerful and animated > > his defeated men became. Encountering a small group of them, Little > > Phil would stand in the saddle, and give a jaunty salute – as if to > > congratulate them on a great victory, rather than another humiliating > > defeat. > > > The result was electric, if not universal. Amid the cheering, one > > infantry colonel – whose descendents perhaps would go on to become > > campaign advisors – stood in Sheridan’s path and begged him not to go > > on. > > > “The army’s whipped!” he cried. > > > “You are, but the army isn’t,” growled Sheridan, who then put the > > spurs to a horse who’s back was taller than he was and rode to the > > scene of the disaster, shouting, “About face, boys! We are going back > > to our camps! We are going to lick them out of their boots!” > > > His men were not beaten. They just needed leadership. > > > “We are going to get a twist on those fellows, men!” he shouted, > > pounding down the pike. “We are going to lick them out of their > > boots!” > > > And that’s what he did, too. He and his routed army went back to that > > field and licked those Rebels right out of their boots. > > > “Run!” he shouted, standing in the stirrups. “Go after them! We’ve got > > the God-damnedest twist on them you ever saw!” > > > Battles don’t always go that way. But sometimes they do. It depends on > > whether the individual soldier still has any fight in him. > > > It has been a source of delight for me these past few days to see > > nothing but evidence of this, all across our defeated lines. Nowhere > > have I heard a shred of defeatism or despair. On the contrary. In > > point of fact, the magnanimity and graciousness I have seen in defeat > > in so many places on the right tells me that this is a eager and > > seasoned army, one able to look defeat in the face and own up to the > > errors in tactics and strategy that got us there. And nowhere do I see > > a call to abandon our core principles and sue for terms, but rather > > that our loss was caused precisely by our abandonment of the issues we > > which hold dear and which have served us so well on battlefields > > past. > > > So consider this, my fellows in arms: > > > On Tuesday, the Left – armed with the most attractive, eloquent, > > young, hip and charismatic candidate I have seen with my adult eyes, a > > candidate shielded by a media so overtly that it can never be such a > > shield again, who appeared after eight years of a historically > > unpopular President, in the midst of two undefended wars and at the > > time of the worst financial crisis since the Depression and whose > > praises were sung by every movie, television and musical icon without > > pause or challenge for 20 months… who ran against the oldest nominee > > in the country’s history, against a campaign rent with internal > > disarray and determined not to attack in the one area where attack > > could have succeeded and who was out-spent no less than seven-to-one > > in a cycle where not a single debate question was unfavorable to his > > opponent – that historic victory, that perfect storm of opportunity… > > > Yielded a result of 53% > > > Folks, we are going to lick these people out of their boots. > > > There is much to do. That a man with such overt Marxist ideas and such > > a history of association with virulent anti-Americans can be elected > > President should make it crystal clear to each of us just how far we > > have let fall the moral tone of this Republic. The great lesson from > > Ronald Reagan was simply that we can and must gently educate as well > > as campaign, and explain our ideas with smiles on our faces and real > > joy in our hearts, for unlike the far-left radical who gained the > > Presidency on Tuesday, we start with 150 million of the most free and > > intelligent and hard-working people in the history of the Earth at our > > backs, with a philosophy that -- unlike theirs, which has resulted in > > 100 million dead in unmarked graves -- has liberated and enriched more > > people and created more joy than any nation or combination of nations > > in our history. > > > How can we lose this greater fight, my friends? How can we lose, > > unless we give up?- Hide quoted text - > > - Show quoted text - --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ Thanks for being part of "PoliticalForum" at Google Groups. For options & help see http://groups.google.com/group/PoliticalForum * Visit our other community at http://www.PoliticalForum.com/ * It's active and moderated. Register and vote in our polls. * Read the latest breaking news, and more. -~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---
