A month before the mid-term elections, politics is (are?) everywhere you look. It is at times such as this that I envy those who ignore media—social and otherwise—and who devote their lives solely to what is before them—family, work, leisure—without feeling the need to be connected to larger issues and events. I pray that someday I achieve this state, but that is a bit off.
Joe Biden performed the one service for which humanity ought to thank him for his remaining days, and that is having won the 2020 election. He removed from power (but certainly not from the national scene) the most singularly corrupt individual to occupy the Oval Office in our nation’s history. And that is saying something.
But President Joe Biden has been an abject failure (save for his approach to Ukraine—which I think has been excellent). His stewardship of the economy has been abysmal, his non-Ukraine foreign policy record has been dismal (see Afghanistan withdrawal, management of relationship with Saudi Arabia), his student loan debt transfer is simply illegal, and his obeisance to the teacher’s unions during COVID will someday be directly tied to measurable failings in American education . Additionally, from all appearances, his mental faculties are insufficient for the job.
Don’t get me wrong—I would vote for Joe Biden over Donald Trump even if Biden were drooling and insensate. Donald Trump is that much of a threat to national security. I do not feel alone in this assessment.
But—and I reserve the right to revise this stance based on how the next two years go—there are numerous potential GOP candidates for whom I would pull the lever, not necessarily out of warmth and support, but because I think they would do a better job than Joe Biden.
In order for this to happen though, the GOP needs to get its act together, and here are a few things they can do.
First—no matter how things wind up in the mid-terms in a few weeks—continue to walk away from Trump and the election nuts (ok, continue to crawl away, as the party has distinguished itself for its inability to walk away thus far).
Second—whenever possible, listen to Mitch McConnell. He’s the smartest person in your party, and he has the party’s best interests in mind, not any one individual’s.
Third—If the GOP does take the House—I wish upon them a Speaker who is not either Kevin McCarthy or one of the Trumpy wingnuts of the freedom caucus. Some sort of fifth ballot little-known but respected and liked person who can come in without any of the baggage of the other options.
Fourth—again, if the GOP does take the House—get busy on investigations that the American public can get behind. Start with the ENTIRE federal government’s response to COVID. Hunter Biden can wait.
The GOP has a LONG way to go to re-establish trust with a whole slice of America who watched it beclown itself over the past six years, moving from what used to be a party of ideas and policy to a party of performance and personality.
A Marker On A Church Wall
The memorial service yesterday (October 8th) was for a man who was much loved in the church that hosted it and in the community that surrounds it. I knew him a little, but his impact on Catherine over the past fifteen or sixteen years has been important, so much so that she was called upon to eulogize him. This summons happened late in the game—Friday evening—but the preparation time given her was inversely proportional to the beauty of what she delivered. I sat in awe of her abilities, and then chided myself for my awe, for when has this woman not delivered? But this essay is not about her, or the decedent. It is about Rodney Van Rycken Spring.
I have seen this memorial countless times on the church wall, but before yesterday I had not pondered it with any depth. We are “back of the church” people, usually as far back as we can be, but Catherine’s role in the service brought us forward and in proximity to the marker. I could not take my eyes off of it; markers such as this have a powerful hold on me. I wondered about who Rodney was, how he lived, why he joined, how he died. I wondered about who had the marker placed, their relationship to Rodney, their grief at his passing. Rodney appears to have been an Eastern Shore resident—what kind of hole was left by his death? I’ve done a little Googling, and Rodney’s 23 years ending a century ago are not well-documented. His unit was part of the 115th Infantry, and I found a little history of it here:
According to the Department of the Army, the 115th Infantry originates from the 1st Battalion of Infantry, Maryland National Guard, which was first organized in western Maryland in 1881. Several past and present members of the regiment, however, firmly believe that the 115th’s origins date to 1775, when Michael Cresap responded to the Continental Congress’s call for troops in the aftermath of Lexington and Concord by organizing an independent company of riflemen in Frederick County. “Cresap’s Rifles”, as the unit was known, joined George Washington’s Continental Army near Boston by making a remarkable 550-mile march in only 22 days.
During the Civil War, Cresap’s legacy was perpetuated by many western Marylanders, who responded to Abraham Lincoln’s call for federal volunteers by joining Colonel John R. Kenly’s 1st Maryland Volunteer Infantry, U.S. Army. At the Battle of Front Royal in May, 1862, the 1st Maryland engaged vastly superior Rebel forces – including the 1st Maryland C.S.A – and was virtually destroyed after a heroic stand. The 115th Infantry’s current motto, “Rally Round The Flag,” originated at that engagement. In 1886 the 1st Infantry Battalion, a recently formed Maryland National Guard unit, expanded into the 1st Regiment of Infantry by consolidating with independent companies in Elkon, Catonsville, Annapolis, Waverly, Towson, and Baltimore. In 1882, after several Eastern Shore companies joined the 1st Maryland, the regiment’s recruitment area encompassed virtually the entire state of Maryland except for Baltimore City.
The 1st Maryland was federalized in 1917 and attached to the newly established 29th “Blue and Gray” Division. At Camp McClellan, Alabama the 1st was consolidated with the 4th and 5th Maryland Regiments to form the 115th Infantry. In October 1918, the 115th participated in the massive Meuse-Argonne offensive. Indeed, two of its members were awarded the Medal of Honor for their heroic deeds in that battle. The regiment returned home in June 1919, after 21 months of mobilization.
A history of “D” Company (Rodney was in “I” Company) can be found here, and from it, one gets a sense of that the men were doing in the weeks before the massive US offensive at Meuse-Argonne. There were nightly patrols into No-Man’s Land, there were artillery exchanges, there were periods at the front and in the rear. And then there was the battle itself, summarized here by The National Archives:
The Meuse-Argonne Offensive was a part of the final Allied offensive of World War I. It was one of the attacks that brought an end to the War and was fought from September 26 – November 11, 1918, when the Armistice was signed.
The Meuse-Argonne Offensive was the largest operations of the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) in World War I, with over a million American soldiers participating. It was also the deadliest campaign in American history, resulting in over 26,000 soldiers being killed in action (KIA) and over 120,000 total casualties. Indeed, the number of graves in the American military cemetery at Romagne is far larger than those in the more commonly known site at Omaha Beach in Normandy.
Rodney was one of these 26,000. He died a little over a month before the end of the war, and a little over three months after his ship landed in Brest. Twenty three years old.
On our visit to Scotland last summer, Catherine and I visited a (the?) Scottish War Memorial at Edinburgh. It is hallowed ground, and visitors walk around its interior silently, as it should be. I stopped at this place and lost it when I read its words:
It was the words “This tablet is erected by his proud and afflicted father” that broke me. Afflicted. What a perfect word to describe this kind of grief. I poked around about Neil Primrose a bit, and found that his father’s affliction sought its path in two other memorials, elsewhere in the UK:
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Although it is a good bit less sweet and beautiful for those left behind.