The Big Roads: The Untold Story of the Engineers, Visionaries, and Trailblazers Who Created the American Superhighways

This morning, I pulled out of my driveway and angled down U.S. Route 2, shifting onto VT Route 12 and through the hills of Berlin and Northfield to work. Tonight, I’ll likely make my way back on the same route, but I very well might take I-89N up from Northfield to Berlin. Never once, in any of the hundreds of trips that I’ve made along that route, have I ever seriously wondered where the roads came from. They’ve always been there, for better or for worse, and they make up the foundation upon which our modern lives exist. Earl Swift’s latest book, The Big Roads: The Untold Story of the Engineers, Visionaries, and Trailblazers Who Created the American Superhighways, is a grand story that I’ve long wanted to read about: the development of the American highway and interstate system.

Despite the title about this being a history of the superhighway system, Swift’s book looks to the development of the entire vehicular road system in the United States, deftly weaving together a story that looks at the rise of the automobile, its influence on urban development and the growth of commerce in the United States over the last century. This is a book that could easily be a dry tome, mired in the tiny details at the weed level. The focus is on the personalities, however, where unassuming men shaped the character of the country: Thomas “The Chief” MacDonald, Herbert Sinclair Fairbank, and Frank Turner, all people you've likely never heard of. Swift balances neatly the personal lives of each man (and from all accounts, he really did his homework, going the extra mile, so to speak, to look into how the men were motivated) with how they each influenced the way we drive around.

At the turn of the 20^th century, driving was a nightmare for urban areas. Horses and bicycles were widely used within cities, and the first cars were primitive, dangerous contraptions that were hard to use at the best of road conditions. However, due to several motivated salesmen, cars became popular: the early days of racing sprang up, cars with wheels, a seat, steering, an engine, and not much else. As the demand for cars rose, so did the political pressure for a better road network, something that many notable politicians (including President Harry Truman), built their careers on.

The development of the United State’s infrastructure seems to have come in a couple of stages: the commonly agreed upon problem of poor roads in the country and the city brought about an interesting case for the influence of federal vs. state government interaction: a massive, national project such as the first highway system (the two lane roads that criss-cross the nation) is enormously expensive, and something largely outside of what the states could afford. The process in which the money came around, but also the construction and standardization of the roadways largely follows MacDonald, who’s vision carried the country forward by eventually linking the East and West coasts by a single, uniform road network. Once a dangerous endeavor that took weeks, it soon took just days, with little danger other than from one’s fellow drivers.

The development of the US Highway system shaped just how we drive as well: the development of headlights, improved safety features and the types of vehicles that were built all came as a result of just how the American public itself changed as a result of the new freedom of mobility that the new roads offered them. At the same time, the changes in cars allowed for continued changes in just how the roads were designed: new methods for building, as well as the best colors to paint signs, and an entirely new standard design for the signs and features along the highway system.

The monumental and extraordinary growth in car ownership from the turn of the century to the mid-1950s meant that the roads designed to link together the nation were overtaxed, overcrowded and clogged with traffic jams. Swift notes that the infrastructure simply wasn’t designed to hold the volume, which led to practical problems within cities. The traffic jams of today apparently can’t compare to what it was like at that time, with too many cars flooding too few (or too small streets), partially due to missed assumptions on the growth of the automobile industry, but also some fundamental basics to how roads attract drivers and how people themselves drive.

Where MacDonald took over for the first major phase of the highway system, his retirement lead to the rise of one of his associates, Frank Turner, who got his start under MacDonald. Turner helped to shepherd a newly designed style of highway into the country to help ease the numerous traffic problems throughout the country. The superhighway system is radically different from the regular highway system: seperated from other roads, with limited access, higher speeds and designed to bring people in and out of cities and across the country. As Swift recounts the development and political wrangling that occurred, we’re introduced to a new element of highway development: land use and the necessity to destroy thousands of homes and businesses in cities in place of roadway. Protests, political stalling and civic activism arises, further changing the system. Ever wonder why Baltimore doesn’t have a highway running through it?

If there’s any flaw with the book, it’s the treatment of President Dwight Eisenhower, for whom the entire network is named for. Swift goes out of his way to denigrate the President, pointing out almost every instance of where he was on vacation or away while vital decisions were made. While I've no issue with the critical element here, I do have to wonder if the careful research present in all of the other elements of the book are present on the highest level: I can’t fathom that Eisenhower was completely in the dark for all of the elements, as he alleges. That being said, it’s a good historical example how how enormously complicated things work: the groundwork is often laid far in advance of when things get going: this is certainly the case for the roads, with all of the right people, research and motivation moving along and ramping up in the first half of the 20^th century, before coming into fruition under the Eisenhower Administration, and finally completed by 1992.

Swift closes the book with a warning: the highway system, as monumental and fundamental as it is, isn’t designed forever, and with further increases in traffic volume around the country, we’re quickly running up to the point in time where large-scale problems will start to arise. Hundreds of bridges are dangerous, damaged or out of date, and road surfaces are in continual need for improvement. While this is the case, the entire system will need a large influx of investment in the coming decades, numbering in the hundreds of billions of dollars, while decreasing revenue is bringing in insufficient money to keep up with the demand. The golden age of roads may be coming to an end, but the system will last far into the future.

The Big Roads is a fantastic book that delves into American’s history and its character. Swift has done an impressive job in telling stories within stories, shedding an interesting light on the nature of the mid-20^th century. It’s exciting, exhilarating, and interesting throughout, with a bright cast of characters doing what very well might have been impossible, while building something that has made the country what it is today.

I love and hate Genre Arguments

Do you want to read my 2nd person, post-modern, colonial YA alt-noir post-cyberpunk, apocalyptic futuristic novel where virtual reality steampunk zombies battle in a biopunked militaristic dystopian world with elements of space opera crossed with pre-singularity, post-slipstream hard horror science fiction while contrasting alternate reality world views with a magical realistic vampire-inhabited sword & sorcery, non-western utopian fantasy past?

NO!

The Gravity Pilot, M.M. Buckner

This year has seen several novels that I've come to with high expectations, only to be let down by a poor story, characters and writing. M.M. Buckner's latest novel, The Gravity Pilot, falls into this trend. Despite a strong premise and interesting world, the book is a lack-luster read, one that left me frustrated and awaiting for the final chapters.

Set in the decades ahead of us, global climate change has drastically affected the planet: the atmosphere is almost unbreathable, and ocean heights have forced drastic changes for cities around the world. In the midst of this world, Orr Sitka and his long-time girlfriend, Dyce, work to live amongst hard times: Orr turns to extreme sky diving, flying amongst the clouds, while Dyce looks to the internet and the abilities of wiki-libraries for her interests. On the day that Orr performs a particularly death-defying jump, breaking world-records while doing so, Dyce finds the job of her dreams. Unfortunately, the two events pull the two apart, with Dyce moving out to Seattle, now submerged and underground after the oceans rose, while Orr finds that he's in the international spotlight when a media mogul latches onto Orr with the intent of saving her and her father's failing company. At the same time, Dyce finds herself in a new world, becoming hopelessly addicted to gaming simulations (sims). When Orr finds out about her problems, he does everything in his power to help her.

There's points where this book excels: The first half of the novel does a terrific job setting up Buckner's future version of our planet, weaving together elements of climate change, technological innovation and inserting mass-media and consumption into the mix. Orr and Dyce fit well as a couple on opposite ends of temperament and interests: Orr feels rooted in the past, with his dismissal of the web and what it can offer, while Dyce is a complete believer in the system. Despite their differences, it's clear from the first couple of chapters that they're a pair that's comfortable with one another, and it's genuinely heartbreaking to see their separation.

However, problems begin outside of the setup and introductions, and the book, with all of its promise, trainwrecks. Orr, for all of his reclusiveness, is sucked into a highly public and controlling world, while Dyce is isolated with her work, but neither storyline ever restores my suspension of disbelief at the events. For one, the book feels too zany and ridiculous with its characters to really take seriously.

The main issues center around Rolf and Vera, father and daughter media moguls who are working to expand their company's bottom line with a new media hit: the Gravity Pilot, Orr's death-defying alter-ego. Complications arise between father and daughter (in what appears to be a somewhat incestuous relationship), not only by the actions of the characters, but of either the character or author's inability to understand how a major media enterprise would actually work in real life. The driving force appears to be working to find funds to maintain a biosphere put together by Rolf: the idea that Cyto, their company (and by all appearances, a major force for media in the nation or even the world), runs on some single form of revenue is patently ridiculous. The lengths and offhanded references to Vera getting loans from singular individuals leaves the book feeling very unthought-out, with no rhyme or reason as to the company's actions, and for the most part, losing sight of why they're fielding their Gravity Pilot (seemingly at great expense).

Furthermore, the plot gets muddled within itself: Orr trains and becomes a bigger star on the internet, before learning from a freelance journalist that she's in trouble, and hatches a plan to escape from Vera's clutches, journeys to Seattle to help her, ultimately leaving without her, before hatching a second plan to escape and help her again, which feels like a lot of unnecessary duplication, but also makes the plot and character's actions far more complicated than they really need to be. Furthermore, the entire storyline with Dyce feels off to me: it comes off as though it's a maiden in distress story, the girl who didn't listen or heed her partner's wishes / advice and falls as a result. In this day and age, her helplessness bothers me greatly, because she's written as an exceedingly strong character to start off with, but ultimately never goes anywhere.

This, I think, is at the heart of my issues with the book: the four central characters all have one main issue. Dyce wants to be in Seattle, bu then wants to escape her addiction and to be with her lover. Orr is miserable without her, and ultimately can't decide what to do about it, while Vera sees that Orr is miserable, and works to push him harder, while Rolf is working to control his daughter and the company. All of these problems would have been easily solved by any of the characters realizing what they really want (and it's clear that they already realize this, rather than the book being about some form of self-discovery, which would have made it much better). In Vera's instance, it's clear very early on that there were ways to make her situation better, either by helping Orr and Dyce talk (which was in her power to do), and in Rolf's case, it would have likely been to exert some form of business control over what he daughter was doing, and avoid bankrupting his company. The fact that all of the characters seem to take deliberate steps to make themselves more miserable further makes me wonder about the attention that went into the plot.

It's clear that there's some points that the author is trying to make from the book: this is where The Gravity Pilot is at its best, in a way, with a cautionary tale about the addictions of internet / toys / social media and its general affect on society (not good), without advocating that people should be a complete luddite in the process. Indeed, there's some interesting background parts to the book where it appears that there's a lot of thought put into how some basic things would be solved: climate change and bio-engineering, the societal effect of living underground, heel-spike stairs to capture energy, all woven into this book fairly seamlessly. Ultimately, however, the themes and the characters are disconnected somewhere, and we're left with a book with some very good things going for it, but with the other half almost completely ruining any good efforts that it had.

At the end of the day, The Gravity Pilot is a book that has potential, but fails to live up to what it sets out to do: it's a disappointing, frustrating read, but notable for its excellent world-building and vision of the future.

Married

So as of 9:00 am Wednesday, the State of Vermont recognizes Megan and myself as a married couple. We filed the paperwork, visited a Justice of the Peace in Montpelier and tied the knot. We're husband and wife!

We were engaged back in December, and have been slowly planning the wedding in the months since. That's still going to happen: there's been some people who've seen the married news and went: Huh?. There's a couple of reasons behind this:

- We wanted the married part to be for us. There's a lot of pressure, frustrating at times, to invite everybody and their friends to the wedding, and we didn't want to lose a whole lot of focus. The marriage was for us, but the wedding will be for all of us. - There's practical things that come with being hitched. Norwich has a great benefits system, and Megan, as my spouse, is now part of that, under my coverage. Saves us money, and should the worst happen, we'll have more options. - There's the whole madly in love with one another thing too.

Plus, the combined wedding / marriage thing felt like this far off, distant, looming thing that would completely stress us out with the minutia and trivial details that come with the territory, and I can't help think that splitting the two apart a bit helps our (mine, at least) mental state. I don't want to go into a happy gathering worrying about X, Y and Z details, or the family elements that might not go off without a hitch.

So, technically, we eloped.

I'm looking forward to the next adventure already: I'll have my best friend, my wife, with me for whatever comes next, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

Embassytown by China Miéville

China Miéville has been on a bit of a tear to explore every genre through his books. With Embassytown, he turns from his earthbound adventures of late (The City and The City and Kraken), and goes into deep space, for a truly alien world.

Opening on the planet Areika, the story follows Avice, the girl who was hurt in the dark and ate what was given to her. Areika is home to an alien race (Areikans, also known as the Hosts) that is one of the very few examples of a credible alien, a race that is truly different from us, rather than an approximation of what people are like. Here, people trade for bioengineered technology, communicating through sophisticated ambassadors, two people who speak different parts of the Host's complicated language. Departing Arekia, Avice goes into deep space, to the Immer, before returning to her home world, where she witnesses huge changes in the world.

The Arekian's way of life completely change when a new ambassador arrives: EzRa, a paired, rather than cloned, ambassador. Their words act as if a drug on the Arekians, who are captivated by his words. As a result of his influence, the world is torn apart by a near-devolution of the planet's inhabitants.

Embassytown shines, as does most of Miéville 's other books, when it comes to world building, with a stunning, visual and brilliant world put together, particularly when it comes to the Hosts and their Language. Unable to understand of conceive of the concept of symbolism, the Hosts perceive language as an absolute truth, rather than a representative of imagination, of what might be. Lies are unheard of, an inconceivable notion that exhilarates the Hosts at 'Festivals of Lies', where they hear these lies, and attempt them themselves. Avice herself is a simile, a literal figure of speech that allows the Hosts to comprehend a particular situation.

There's a real religious element here, one that reminded me in part of Frank Herbert's Dune, touching on religious extremism. Avice's husband, Scile, a linguist (and who's understandably interested in Language), is particularly distressed over the influence of humans and the very nature of how we perceive the world around us. There's a divide between those who look to prevent the influence of humans, and those wishing to explore the differences, regardless of the consequences. The consequences become dire as the Host's society begin to tear itself apart. In a large way, the book is as close to unveiling the roots of conflict in societies: differences between individuals and groups as a whole. Without giving too much away, the conflict here is even more terrifying than one might find amongst any human conflicts: we can choose our actions and reasons for fighting and believing in some side or another. Here, it's another motivation altogether.

In another related aspect, there’s more to the religious element here, particularly with the words of EzRa, and eventually, EzCal. As the Hosts begin to flow to Embassytown to hear the words of the new ambassador, there’s an element of the introduction of sin to the planet and the race of aliens, culminating in an almost apocalyptic fall when the concept of lying is introduced to them. Not being someone who’s terribly religious, this comes from a layman’s perspective, but it works well with the overall story.

Along with the story of extremism over ideas and philosophies, there's an interesting argument over colonialism that dovetails into the concerns of Scile. Language is a key element in how the Host's society is formed and the introduction of humanity to the mix acts to subvert how things run on the world. It's subversive, game changing and fascinating all at the same time. There are greater political elements at play hinted throughout the story, and the question that comes up amidst the story is the ethical one: should we, as invaders, effect such change in a world? Should we do it for our own good, our own interests? Here, Embassytown is at its best, a first contact novel of the first degree, with vast implications drawn from our own history, and the state of the world now, where the Middle East and the West simply aren't speaking the same language.

I came away from the novel with a clear message: understanding, and in that, comprehending one another is essential in how we deal with others, whether alien or familiar.

For all of the extremely good ideas presented in Embassytown, the book fails to deliver when it comes to characters. While we have the opportunity to really get into Avice's head as she narrates, the reader is essentially just along for the ride, seeing the actions, but not getting much more beyond that. Frequently, I felt disembodied from the characters, held at arms length. It's a shame, because this is a book that's incredibly smart, well plotted and allows for a lot of reflection. The problems in the characters undermines the entire effort, turning what could have been a great novel into a good one. It’s a little disappointing, especially after the excellence that is The City and The City.

Still, it's not a bad book, nor is it worth avoiding: Miéville creates a truly spectacular world and novel, one that's memorable in it's own right, and one that puts its ideas and story first and foremost. The flaws here may even be deliberate: I have a feeling that an author as talented as Miéville couldn't let something like this past, and given the book's central themes around understanding, I can't help but wonder if there's more within that I'm simply missing after mulling over the book for a couple of weeks.

If anything, Embassytown is worth every page for its rich, spectacular world, its depth and prose. It's easily one of the best books of the year, and while not my favorite Miéville book (The City and The City remains my top pick), it certainly blew me away, and has left me thinking about it for weeks.

Super 8

I’ve got a lot of love for some of the science fiction films from the 1970s, particularly because they were some of the earliest ones that I can remember. We had a VHS of E.T. that I remember watching periodically, and after my obsession with Star Wars, someone got me a copy of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, a film that’s slowly grown on me over the years, to the point where it’s one of my absolute favorites. J.J. Abram’s latest film, Super 8, helps to recall some of the best points of those films, and go right to the center of what makes a film truly great, rather than mere visual spectacle that’s designed to bring people in for the initial theater run. This film feels like the type that is designed to run the distance, and to become a film that will last for years to come, and serves as a great counter-film to another project that Abrams was involved with, Cloverfield.

Set in 1979, the film opens in the aftermath of a disaster that takes the live of Joe Lamb’s mother, setting his, and his father (one of the town’s deputies), into a bit of a flux, as they try to regain some stability and clarity in their lives. Joe escapes into work on a zombie film with his large and somewhat controlling friend Charles, along with the rest of their small clique of friends, hoping to submit their film to a film festival at the end of the summer. Bringing along the town drunk’s daughter, the lovely and standoffish Alice, they begin to film a scene at the train station when a train is deliberately derailed by their science teacher. Spectacle ensues, and the boys see something strange, before escaping as armed soldiers rush on scene. Chaos ensures in the town as town’s dogs and people go missing, strange things happen to electronics and cars, while the military moves in to clean up the mess, but refuse to answer any questions. All the while, the boys are trying to use the background as the perfect setting for their film.

Super 8 does a really good job splitting their duties between looking at the kid’s perspective and looking at how their parents see what’s going on, and Abrams excels here by putting together a great cast of new actors, with a lot of people pointing out the similarities between this and films such as E.T. and Stand By Me. I found some similarities between this and Freaks and Geeks as well. This group of kids really makes the movie: the story is character-driven, and the result is a great film that sees kids steering their own destinies. Ultimately, the kids are also believable, unlike in one of the trailers for an upcoming film, where a child sounds like an adult for their entire appearance. These kids feel just like I remember when I was 12, 13 or 14ish. It feels honest, and that gets major points.

Other cues from older films also help: Abrams ops for a slow buildup, and there’s some good camera work that supports that: the camera lingers, capturing some key moments throughout the film, while not abandoning the excitement when the train derails and the tanks roll through town. The creature that’s driving the main story here is also fleetingly seen until the last couple of moments, and feels far more Cloverfield than ET. It’s a great mechanism, with some great, geeky tension for the audience.

Still, there’s parts that don’t quite fit as well in the modern day and age, and the events in the film help to anchor the film nicely in the later days of the Cold War. At one point, a lady stands up in a crowd and declares that all of these problems must be a result of Soviet actions. A couple of people in the theater laughed at that, but looking at the state of the public during that era, it’s not far off the mark: Abrams captures the moment of the 1970s, but not in a way that’s readily relatable to the modern audience, at least when it comes to the big themes or historical relations. In a way, this is one of the bigger strengths of the film, because when it comes up against the films that it’s been compared to, it’s in good company, and it’s something that I could easily see being created forty years ago.

In one way, this is a bit of a bother to me when it comes to Abrams: for all that he is as a rising star with the science fiction / fantasy genres, he doesn’t do well at wholly original ideas – as original as one can get in fiction or entertainment. Looking at his track record, Star Trek, Mission Impossible, and now this film, there’s a great modern look at older franchises, television shows such as LOST or Fringe non-withstanding. It fits with our culture, one that looks to remixed albums, comic book characters that run back decades and movie and television franchises that have repeated themselves ad nauseum. Nostalgia is one component here, but another is familiarity.

Super 8 manages to really pull itself out of this lurch by being not only an original story, independent of franchise, while taking familiar tropes and moving them around on their own, but it doesn’t rely completely on them: the story is driven by its own architecture: the characters working with their environment as it sends fastballs their way.

This is also a whole different from from other efforts like Cloverfield, where the film is simply a group of people buffered by events around them, with no or little control of their actions and the world around them: this film is the diametric opposite, and I think for that reason, it's a story that will last far longer, and it honestly a better story for people get some type of message from.

I loved Super 8: I rarely want to see something more than one in theaters, and while it has its flaws here and there, it’s a film that excels on its many merits. Plus, it’s a film that has a bit of meta narrative, one that nods to the origins of the current crop of filmmakers , while giving something to everyone else in the theater. And? It’s a whole lot of fun. It’s hard to argue with that.

X-Men: First Class

On the airplane over to Europe, I was a bit puzzled by the screening of X-Men 3: The Last Stand, but because I couldn't sleep, I watched it, and remembered just how bad it was. Where the first two X-Men films were fun, and fairly well done, the third felt rushed, overcooked, with no cohesive storyline, characters and action that didn't make sense, but with some definite promise to it. It's unfortunate that it was such a train wreck, and it put me off from the follow-up Wolverine film, which I've still not seen. Thus, the news that there was another X-Men film coming out simply didn't register, until it became fairly clear that this was going to be a film that was somewhat different.

Set in 1962, X:Men First Class turns to a certain amount of nostalgia. There's the old cars, the Cold War, and the origins of the X-Men, looking quite a bit like I remembered from the reprinted versions of the comics that I read as a kid. Then, one of my favorite directors, Matthew Vaughn, came on board to direct. I've almost universally liked his films: Layer Cake is one of my all time favorites, and I got a real kick out of Stardust and Kickass. His attention and film style makes X-Men: First Class stand out, turning it into a film that's notable in the franchise, as well as the superhero genre.

Starting off in the 1940s, we revisit the origins of Erik Lehnsherr, and get a glimpse into the early days of Charles Xavier, as they grow up. Erik is a holocaust survivor, forced to watch his mother's death in an move to unlock his powers at the hands of Sebastian Shaw. Xavier goes to Oxford, studying genetics and mutations. All the while, Shaw becomes a globetrotting super villain, moving back and forth between the United States and the Soviet Union in an attempt to trigger all out war between the two superpowers, eventually leading Xavier and Lehnsherr together, all the while exploring several themes that become central to the X-Men franchise: identity and human nature.

X-Men: First Class succeeds because it's extensively focused on the two main characters, and it sets up, but doesn't quite deliver the epic nature of their friendship. Two opposites with incredible power: one angry, the other calm, one reckless where the other is deliberate. The two men complete each other in a number of ways, while the excellent cast of supporting characters, including Mystique (played by the fantastic Jennifer Lawrence - I can't wait to see her as Katniss in The Hunger Games), Beast, Banshee, and Darwin, who all face challenges of their own: how do they reconcile their abilities with their identity. More importantly, how they are seen by the public. Mystique spends most of the film in human form, torn between hiding and understanding herself. It's a powerful message that'll undoubtedly be relatable to any teenager who watches the film. Watching the film, I was a little annoyed that the filmmakers didn't simply use some of the characters from the original comics, such as Iceman and Angel, which would have made the movie that much better, before being reminded that they've already been used. With that in mind, the film slips into the original film's continuity nicely.

The film does falter at points: it feels rushed, overstuffed, with so much material that we blow past major scenes, some of which feel a bit abridged, rather than taking a bit of time to support the characters a bit. The relationship between Magneto and Professor X has enormous amounts of potential, and is pulled off rather well because of James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, but it doesn't feel as true as it could have. Events likewise move very quickly, and it's hard to imagine the US and Soviet Union being manipulated as easily as they appear to be.

That being said, setting the film in the midst of the Cold War is an interesting choice, and it works well. One could make the argument that there's a cautionary tale when it comes to nuclear technology, but I think the bigger point to be made comes from the escalation of forces when you have superpowers at work against one another, and it helps to demonstrate, in a couple of ways how respective militaries can become pawns to larger forces at work. In the final act of the film, we essentially see US and USSR Navy personnel completely constrained by their orders, where they can see the absurdity of the situation, but are largely helpless to do anything about it. In similar forms, there's plenty to be said that can take such lessons and apply them to the modern day, with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

X-Men: First Class renewed my interest and 10 year old self in the X-Men, making me want to find my old comics and trading cards from elementary school. It's very well filmed, very well thought out, and is just enough to make one forget about the poor-quality entries in the franchise thus far. But, the filmmakers have understood what really makes the X-Men special, and that's the characters, not the action or the drama, and where it comes to that, the film gets solid marks, and praise, for focusing more on the characters than the explosions. It makes the film something that will last far longer than X3 ever will.

Europe Trip

 

I'm finally back from Belgium and caught up with work, rest and a bit of reading to start to put things together on the trip. Short story, Belgium and Germany both rock, while US Airways sucks. A couple of weeks ago, I posted up the sections of the paper that I wrote up, an overview of the Battle of the Bulge and the role that Norwich University students played (note, however, that it's a bit of a work in progress) during the battle.

Seeing a battlefield for one's self, however, puts an entirely new dynamic understanding the battle. Going to Belgium and Germany to look at the lead up to the Bulge, and the Bulge itself, helped me understand a lot, but also showed me where I need to continue to research to make the paper better. That'll likely happen this summer, as I update what I wrote a bit, and write up an article on the 2nd Armored Division for Armchair General.

Flying was a nightmare, and you can read the other post for the specifics - it's not worth remembering, honestly. But, getting into Brussels left me a little time to wander, so I walked a couple of miles from the hotel into the city center (I didn't want to worry about figuring out the bus and train system, and I was impatient). Taking out a map, I noted which streets I went down, and wandered my way over, which is something that I recommend in any foreign city - I did it in London, and in Athens, and I honestly believe that I got a better sense of the city than I otherwise would have. It's a neat place, entirely not what I expected, and a huge contrast from the downtown tourist section.

Meeting up with the group, we had our initial briefing, then set out the next morning to look at the northern advance of the 2nd Armored Division in the months preceding the Bulge, as Norwich had a member, Captain James Burt, who earned the Metal of Honor in Aachen for his actions during a firefight. We looked at several towns in the lead up to that fight, examining some of the logistical problems that would have cropped up, as well as some of the battlefield sites.

One of the parts that always hits the hardest when looking at battlefields is looking at the US Cemeteries: they're immaculate, haunting, and stark. We visited the Henri Chappelle American Cemetery and Memorial, where we discovered the final resting place of a Norwich Alum, Arnold McKerer, a 2nd Lieutenant from the 9th Infantry Division who was killed the day after he was deployed to Monschau. It was sobering, and drove a couple of points home: our institution had a real stake in the battle, and this was a tangible result.

Monschau was lovely: an ancient town, set in a valley, with traditional, German looking structures, a castle on one side, and some ruins on the other. I set out away from the group again and walked around the streets, covering most of it in the couple of hours that we had. It felt very touristy in some places, although it was gratifying to see that there were also German tourists there. I bought an wooden whistle for my dad, in the shape of an owl, then hiked up to the top to the Castle, and then to the ruins.

Monday, we set out from Monchau to look at the opening moments of the Bulge attack. Hitler and his forces achieved near complete surprise in their attack against the allies, which resulted in the near destruction of the 28th and 106th Infantry Divisions. This was in a heavily wooded section of the country, where there was limited mobility, units that were resting from hard combat and new to the front lines. As we drove to the first sites, we saw the remains of the Siegfried Line, dragon's teeth fortifications that were designed to stop an invasion. It's astonishing that they're still there, a pointed reminder of the war and Hitler's legacy.

Going into the woods was eerie. The temperature dropped a couple of degrees, and there's a peaceful calm feel to the woods. The trees are planed in lines, shooting straight to the sky. We could hear birds, owls and the wind as we walked to a monument to the 99th Infantry Division, the unit that fought in that area, as well as the Volksgrenadier Division that was also there. Moving in deeper, we came across the remains of the trenches and foxholes that the allies had dug in place, and listened to some discussion of life in the trenches. Such a violent past felt very out of place in those woods.

From there, we moved further West, towards St. Vith, and looked at the surrounding territory, and the intentions of the German military as they swept inwards. We had a couple of Norwich students perish in this area. Another stand saw more foxholes. We climbed out of the valleys and up into the high ground to the north of the section, where the 82nd Airborne Division held territory, before turning in for the night at Bastogne.

Tuesday, we focused extensively on the 2nd Armored Division, driving out to the western sections of the battlefield, 'classic tank country', according to our guides, BG (RET) Hal Nelson and MG (RET) Gordon Sullivan. Norwich University had focused on cavalry training early on, and we had a number of students present in the ranks, including the general, Ernest Harmon, who would eventually become the university's president in the post-war years. There were several key towns that we looked at that saw some major actions from our soldiers there, who worked to cut off the German advance, and stopping it in its tracks. I could spend an entire week there, looking at that, I think.

The last day, Wednesday, we stayed in Bastogne, where we drove out to the memorial, a towering star-shaped structure that spells out the actions of the bulge. It's an impressive memorial, one that would be a good place to stop to get a good overview of the battle. We didn't look much at Bastogne, but we saw where the significance came from, and the actions that the US 101st Airborne and 10th Armored Division played in helping hold the ground. From there, it was back to Brussels, where we had our final briefing and dinner, then departed for the night. I spend the next two days trying to get home, but ultimately, the trip was worth the trouble. I want to go back to that territory: it's gorgeous out there, with a fascinating role in the 2nd World War.

Open letter to US Airways

Dear US Airways, I wanted to register a complaint with the level of service that I received for a business trip overseas between May 19th and May 27th. I’ve never had any major issues with flights in the years that I’ve flown with a variety of airlines, but upon each step of the way, I was met with inadequate, unprofessional and poor customer service and organization from your airline, which seriously impacted the trip that I undertook, and ended up costing money that I had not budgeted out for the trip, necessitating several discussions with my bank, landlord and employer, which comes as a serious embarrassment to myself and how I am perceived professionally. I have hoped that in the days since my trip, I would have found some explanation for what I’ve come up against, but I’ve failed to do so: I remain exceedingly angry.

Some of these problems are ones that are excusable due to weather and other extreme problems that cannot be predicted or easily worked around: every step along the way, the people placed into the positions on the ground were the problem.

My first flight was from Manchester’s airport (MHT) to Philadelphia (PHL), on US Airways Flight 3988 on May 19. I arrived at the airport in plenty of time, and waited for boarding, when we were told that the flight was delayed due to an airport closing due to severe weather. The personnel in Manchester were by far the most helpful of the entire trip – they were unable to get a flight into Philadelphia, but they were able to get a flight from Boston to Philadelphia the next day. I missed the next leg from Philadelphia, flight 750, that day. (I believe that it was delayed for the night.) Already, I have missed a day that had been booked at the hotel where I had been booked, which was not recoverable from the hotel.

On May 20, I was forced to arrange three separate car rides from people who generously took time from their day to get me from person to person, and I arrived at the airport on time for the next flight from Boston to Manchester. (The flight is not on my itinerary, and I don’t remember the number – I’m sure that I’m in your records.). I was bumped up from the afternoon flight to the mid-morning flight, and arrived in Philadelphia with no issues.

The afternoon flight from PHL to BRU (Brussels) arrived late, and was further delayed from Philadelphia – US Airways flight 750. The flight itself was comfortable, but a rearrangement of seating meant that the entire airplane had to be reseated, and my ticket didn’t have a seat listed – there was a considerable wait to rebook the flight and to get seats, which caused further frustration amongst my fellow passengers. Here, there was little direction or announcement in the terminal, and had I not asked, I would not have known until the last minute that there would have been an issue. Because of the delay in the aircraft, I missed the last shuttle to my hotel, and I was required to hire a car to get from the airport to the hotel, further cutting into the money that I had budgeted for the trip. I had hoped that I would be away from further problems with flights.

On May 26, for my return, I arrived at the airport early, went through security and arrived in time for projected boarding of my flight. Again, there was little direction broadcast to the passengers in the terminal: orders for boarding by Zone, which resulted in a long line of people unsure of where to go, as many were still getting out of security and had missed the original announcements: Again, had I not asked, I would not have found out what to do. Flight 751 was supposed to take off at 10:45, but several hours later, the flight was still boarding, and a problem had been discovered with the fuel, and there was a considerable amount of time spent waiting for the final checks. We were soon ordered off the plane and to return a short time later, as a part was being replaced. Several additional announcements were made throughout the afternoon as to the status of the airplane, and by 3:30 or so, we were permitted to reboard: we did so in ten minutes, with the understanding that if the plane did not push off at 4:10 in the afternoon, the crew would be grounded. 4:10 came and went, and we were once again ordered off the plane. Many wondered why there was such a delay in getting the passengers onboard and with the crew’s readiness at the same time: it seemed like a poor use of time. I would have happily sat on the plane for extra time (if we’d been seated earlier) to accommodate the crew. Indeed, we were not even informed that the flight would not take off: we saw the 1st class passengers getting up to leave. The aircraft staff were extremely unhelpful.

From this point on, I found the biggest failures in your organization: there was absolutely no direction from the flight crew and US Airways airport staff as to what the next steps were. We were told to report to the desk. There were no instructions for baggage, and a number of people waited at the carousel for bags that simply didn’t come. The contractor in charge of the bags informed me that I had to check out with the US Airways desk, and that I would be able to collect the bags afterwards, a half-hour later. Moving upstairs, we came across a line that was four hours long. By the time that I had gotten off the airplane and through the line, I had spent 5 hours – 5 HOURS – waiting for more information. I did not know if I would be able to get a place to stay for the night, when my next flight would take off and what to do next. A fellow passenger in line, Eric Stoltz, found that his bags (he was moving back to the US, and had 6) were left unguarded and unsecured downstairs, and I retrieved mine, quickly. Anybody could have walked into the room and picked up what was mine. This was unacceptable.

After four hours in line, around 9:30, we were given vouchers for a nearby hotel, and caught the last shuttle to the hotel, hoping to get dinner before their restaurant closed for the night. If they had not held their doors open, we would not have eaten at all.

The next morning, more problems surfaced. I arrived with my fellow passengers the next morning, we were again confronted with a multiple hour line as the computer system was down, and we were left waiting, once again, with no explanation as to the delay. I heard passengers yelling, and there was a lot of frustration on our part. Getting through line and through security, the flight was once again delayed from 10am to 1pm, where we were informed that the aircraft had undergone further repairs. We had been under the impression that the flight had been fixed, and that the flight would be safe: my faith in the mechanical abilities of the aircraft was now shaken: if the crew had claimed that the plane was safe to fly last night, why had they continued repairs, and were their claims honest the second time around? The flight did indeed take off, but with a revised landing time: 3:30, when my next, rescheduled flight would be boarding. I would still have to go through security, immigration and put my bags through, then go from A to F terminal. The staff on the airplane were once again extremely unhelpful, and did not put my mind to ease when I asked them what to do next: I was essentially told that I would miss my flight and that I’d have to be bumped again. Given that we landed at 3:00 and that I’d gotten out of security by around 3:30, I most likely could have made my flight.

Getting off the plane, we came across a table with people who had missed connections. Once again, there was no indication of this from our flight crew, and people easily could have missed it. When Flight 751 landed, two people manned the desk, and displayed the more inappropriate and rude behavior that I’ve seen all trip. They shouted at the passengers, were incredibly rude to myself, and according to my fellow passenger Erik, slapped his hand away when he saw his name. This is unacceptable for an organization that interfaces with customers. I was shocked, and stunned, that after the past couple of days, we could come up across something like this. I can understand shouting to be heard over noise, but this was different altogether: these two individuals were rude and abrasive, and should be fired.

Indeed, I had also been bumped from my flight, from the 4:00 to Manchester to the 6:15. I went through security and passport control and waited for my flight – we were bumped to another gate, and by our boarding time of 5:45, our flight crew had not shown up, although the person at the desk informed us that they were in the building. Our flight was to depart at 6:15, and our pilot and crew only showed up at that point, where we had to wait further for them to prep the cabin. We boarded, and had to wait 20 spaces on the tarmac for our turn to take off. This normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but our plane had been turned off, and until we were in the air, we were told, the air conditioning would be ineffective – it was 80-90 degrees outside, and extremely warm. The flight attendant did hand out water, but came very close to running out. By the time that we had taken off, we were already extremely late, and landed in Manchester around 8 or shortly thereafter. On top of all this, my ride, who had been watching the website for updates, noted that the flight was still registered as not having taken off by the time we landed, and I had to wait for them to pick me up – they were embarrassed to have left me hanging.

In short, I held boarding passes for nine flights: every single one was cancelled, delayed or changed, with considerable problems along the way. Why, in Brussels, did we have to wait by an entire row of empty consoles to reach a desk that was staffed by two people for over 200 passengers. Why were we not given clear instructions on where to go, and why does there appear to be no contingency plan for unexpected problems such as these on your part, causing a major disruption in the plans for your customers? I hold a customer service-oriented job, and had I caused a comparable problem in my own company, I would have been fired. Why were your personnel in Philadelphia, greeting Flight 751, so abusive and rude to us? Why does it appear that your company has such a low expectation of your customers that you treat them as such? I sincerely want answers to these questions, so that I can understand what I went through over the course of my travels with your company. I have trouble imagining that I will ever willingly fly US Airways again, because of this experience, and I believe that I am either owed an explanation or my money back for the work time that I missed, and the money that I had to expend above and beyond what was budgeted. I certainly did not receive the value that I expected – and have received, from your competitors – indeed, I did not get what I paid for, as I was not delivered to either Brussels nor Manchester on time. I expect some problems when it comes to air travel, but not to this magnitude.

Please let me know if you have any questions. I look forward to your e-mail and explanations.

Sincerely,

Andrew Liptak

Norwich University and the Battle of the Bulge: Introduction

As of right now, I’m enroute to Brussels, Belgium. Last fall, I was tasked with researching the role that students and alumni played during the Battle of the Bulge, one of the defining engagements of the Second World War. Over six months, I looked at a number of records and publications, gathering information on the students, then at the units that they were a part of, before examining where they all fit together into the actual battle. It was quite a bit of fun, and over the next week, I’m touring the battlefields on what’s called a Staff Ride, essentially consulting and providing information on how the university played a role in the battle. Over the next week, I’ve split up my paper into parts, and as I’ll be in the country, it seems fitting that I share the work (somewhat modified from the original paper, in places) while I’m there. I’ll have plenty of pictures to share when I return.

Introduction The Battle of the Bulge was the most intense and costly battle that the United States and its allies waged against the German military during the Second World War. Over a million soldiers on both sides involved in the clash that would last for 41 days, beginning on December 16th, 1944. This battle was the only time that the German military fought against the United States with the upper hand, due adverse weather conditions for the allies, limiting their abilities, and the overconfidence in the Axis’ ability to wage war.

Norwich University played its own role in this engagement, with around one hundred alumni at or potentially at the battlefield, based on the records examined at various sources from the university. The school undoubtedly played a role in the conduct and leadership abilities of the students who trained and shipped off to Europe, with soldiers with university credentials (or eventual university association) ranging from the rank of Private, First Class, on the front lines, to the rank of Major General, overseeing the operations on a divisional level, playing pivotal roles in the direction of the battle. Indeed, Norwich University alumni gave their blood and their lives in Belgium, making the ultimate sacrifice for their country in a time of grave need, helping the battle and their comrades through to the end.

Soldiers from Norwich were also present throughout the battle, from the first moments in the early morning of December 16th, 1944, to the last, on January 25th, 1945, 41 days later. They participated as airborne, infantry and armored units, instrumental in all major actions taken during the campaign to push back the German onslaught.

Setting the Stage On June 6th, 1944, Allied forces came ashore in Normandy, France, where the fight into Europe began in earnest, pushing the German military further back over the course of the fall that year. Over the course of the fall, a number of Norwich University alumni arrived to fight for their country: On June 9th, elements of the 2nd Armored Division arrived on shore, under the command of Major General Brooks, a Norwich graduate, who would eventually hand over command to General Ernest Harmon, who would continue to push deeper into Europe.

From Normandy, US and Allied forces moved to liberate Paris and the rest of Europe.

In September 1944, the allies launched Operation Market-Garden against German positions in Holland, where allied forces looked to capture ground and allow for a quick march straight to Germany. Its eventual failure pushed back expectations that they would reach Berlin in a timely manner.

On October 13th, 1944, the 2nd Armored Division saw action at Wurselen, Germany, where Captain James Burt, of the 66th Armored Regiment B Company, earned the Medal of Honor for his actions against a German garrison, directing fire from an exposed position, and in the course of which he was wounded. Over following nine days, he continued to scout enemy positions, direct friendly fire towards enemy positions and to aid the wounded.

The 10th Armored Division likewise saw some action at this time, and on November 27th, Joseph Haines Clarke, with 10th Armored Division’s 3rd Cavalry, Troop D, was wounded in action.

As the German military was pushed back into Germany and out of lower Europe, German High Chancellor Adolf Hitler began to plan an offensive that would hit allied forces where they were the weakest, between the British and American militaries. Code-named Wacht am Rhein (Watch the Rhine), the planning began in September 1944, with the intention to move out towards Muese, and then to Antwerp.

On December 13th, just days before the German military stepped off their attack on the morning of the 16th, Major Wesley Goddard, ’33, of the 18th Field Artillery Group, was killed, after commanding units in France and Belgium.

Tomorrow, the start of the Battle: December 16th.

Space Exploration and the American Character

Historian Dr. Michael Robinson, of the University of Hartford, opened his talk with a William Falkner quote that helped frame the 1961-1981 Key Moments in Human Spaceflight conference in Washington DC, held on April 26th through April 27th: “The past is never dead. It's not even past.” The first talks of the day dealt extensively with the narrative and drive behind space travel and exploration, painting it as much of a major cultural element within the United States as it was one of scientific discovery and military necessity. In a way, we went to space because it was something that we’ve always done as Americans.

The Past

Dr. Robinson started with a short story of a great endeavor that captured the imagination of the public, one that brought in a lot of rivalry between nations on a global scale, advanced our scientific knowledge, and where high tech equipment helped bring valiant explorers to the extremes. Several disasters followed, and the government pulled back its support, yielding part of the field to private companies. If asked, most people would describe the space race of the twentieth century, and while they would be right, what Robinson talked about was the race for the North Pole. In 1909, American explorer Robert Peary claimed to have reached the North Pole, becoming the first known man to do so. While there are reasons to doubt or support Peary’s travels, Robinson makes some interesting points in comparing the North Pole to that of the space expeditions.

Robinson described a culture of exploration that’s existed in the United States since its inception, but took pains to make a distinction between the frontier motif that has permeated science fiction, and the realities that we’ve come to expect from going into orbit. Television shows have undoubtedly aided in the excitement for space research and exploration, but they’ve incorporated elements that have great significance for American audiences: Star Trek, for example, had been described as a ‘Wagon train to the stars’, while Firefly has likewise been described as a ‘Western in space’, to say nothing of films like Outland, Star Wars, and numerous other examples. In his 2004 address that helped outline America’s space ambitions, President George W. Bush noted that “the desire to explore and understand is part of our character”. Other presidents have said similar things, and it’s clear that there’s a certain vibe that it catches with the American voter.

It makes sense, considering the United State’s history over the past centuries: Americans are all newcomers, and as Robinson said, the west was a place to settle. The arctic, and space, really aren’t, and distinctions should be made between everything. Historically, both space and the arctic have much smaller footprints of human interactions. It’s a difficult area to reach, and once people are there, it’s an incredibly hostile environment that discourages casual visits.

The American West, on the other hand, is very different for the purposes of imagery for space travel. During the great migration during the 1800s, it was relatively cheap for a family to travel out to vast untapped territory: around $500. Additionally, once people reached the west, they found a place that readily supported human life, providing land, food, and raw materials. The American west was transformed by mass migration, helping to vastly expand the U.S. economy during that time, while leading to a massive expansion of the federal government and to the Civil War. Space, on the other hand, isn’t so forgiving, and like the arctic, doesn’t yield the benefits that the west provided.

The explorations into the arctic gives us a sense of where space can go and how expectations from the public and the scientific community can come into line with one another. The polar explorations absolutely captured the imagination of the public: art exhibits toured the country, while one of the first science fiction novels, Frankenstein, was partially set in the North. However, what we can learn from the arctic is fairly simple: we abandon the idea of development in the short to mid future. Like the arctic, space is an extreme for human life, and the best lessons that we can glean for space will come from the past experiences that we’ve had from other such extremes: exploration in areas where people don’t usually go. This isn’t to say that people shouldn’t, or can’t go to the ends of the Earth and beyond, but to prepare accordingly, in all elements.

The arctic provides a useful model in what our expectations should be for space, and provide some historical context for why we go into space. We shouldn’t discount the idea that the west and the country’s history of exploration and settlement as a factor in going into space.

The Space Age

James Spiller, of SUNY Brockport, followed up with talk about the frontier analogy in space travel, noting that the imagery conformed to people’s expectations, and that notable figures in the field, such as Werner von Braun, liked the comparison because it helped to promote people’s interest in space. The west connected and resonated with the public, which has a history and mythos of exploration. This goes deep in our metaphorical, cultural veins, linking the ideas of US exceptionalism and individualism that came from the colonization of the American continent. The explorations to the west, the arctic and eventually to space, came about because it appealed to out character: it was part of our identity.

The launch of Sputnik in 1957 undermined much of what Americans believed, not just on a technical scale, but seemed to confirm that a country with vastly different values could do what we weren’t, with everything that was going for us, able to do. In the aftermath of the launch, President Eisenhower moved slowly on an American response, to great dismay of the public. It was a shock to the entire country, one that helped to prompt fast action and pushing up the urgency for a red-blooded American to go into space. How could the individual, exceptional Americans fall behind the socialists, whose values run completely counter to our own? There had already been numerous examples of individuals who had conquered machines and territories, such as Charles Lindberg and Robert Peary and the Mercury astronauts followed. Indeed, for all of the reasons for why the West feels important to Americans, the space program exemplifies certain traits in the people we selected to represent us in space.

Spiller noted that the frontier of the west seems to have vanished: the culture towards the end of the 1960s and early 1970s fractured society and the idea of American exceptionalism: the Civil Rights movement discredited parts of it, all the while the United States seems to have lost its lead in the global economy as other countries have overtaken it. As a result, the message of space changed, looking not out, but in. President Ronald Reagan worked to revisit the message, as did President H.W. Bush. There have been further changes since the first space missions: a new global threat that actively seeks to curtail modernism, terrorism, has preoccupied out attention, and pushed our priorities elsewhere.

Going Forward

The last speaker was former NASA Historian Steven Dick, who looked at the relationship between Exploration, Discovery and Science within human spaceflight, pointing out distinctions between the three: Exploration implies searching, while Discovery implies finding something, while science leads to explanation. The distinctions are important because they are fundamental to the rhetoric, he explained, and that the last program to really accomplish all three was the Apollo program.

Going into the future, NASA appears to be at a crossroads, and its actions now will help to define where it goes from here on out. The original budget that put men on the moon was unsustainable, but only just, and that as a result, NASA at the age of fifty is still constrained by actions taken when it was only twelve. The space shuttle is part of a program that was not a robust agent of exploration, discovery or science. He pointed out that where programs like Apollo and the Hubble Space telescope have their dramatic top ten moments, the Space shuttle really doesn’t, because it’s a truck: it’s designed with indeterminate, multiple functions, ranging from a science platform to a delivery vehicle for satellites. This isn’t to discredit the advances made because of the shuttle, but when compared to other programs, it doesn’t quite compare. The space station, on the other hand, was well worth the money, but people don’t respond as well to pure science as they do exploration. Apollo demonstrated that science alone isn’t enough to sustain public interest.

As he said it, “exploration without science is lame, discovery without science is blind, and exploration without discovery or science is unfulfilled.” Going forward, any endeavors beyond our planet should encapsulate all three elements to capture the public’s imagination, and make the efforts to go beyond orbit worthwhile for all. However, manned spaceflight can accomplish so much more than robotic probes and satellites, especially for fulfilling the frontier motif that helps to define our interest in going into space: it seems hard to embody the traits that have helped inspire people to go further when it’s someone, or something, else doing the exploring.

Space, the final frontier, is an apt way to look at how manned spaceflight programs are looked at, and it certainly captures the imagination of people from around the world. While some of the direct imagry is misplaced, it's not a bad thing for people to capture, but it does help to remember the bigger, and more realistic picture when it comes to what the goals and expectations are for space. NASA, going forward will have to take some of these lessons to heart, reexamining its core mission and the goals that its working to put forward. Nobody in the room doubted that the money and the advances that have come forward as a result of space travel were worth the cost and risks involved, but they want it to continue forward far into the future. To do otherwise would mean giving up a significant part of who we are, because the traits that that have come to define our exploration beyond the horizon, to the North and high above us are elements that are worth celebrating: the drive to discover, to explore and to explain are all essential for the future.

Coda

I vividly remember the events of September 11^th. I was at my high school’s library, on one of the computers when I came across the news on a news site, and over the course of the afternoon, we learned that it was no accident, but a deliberate attack against the country. I remember being concerned that we didn’t know who did it, until the news began to shift over the next couple of days to the Middle East. In my 10^th grade history class, we listened to the radio. The road was dead silent as the commentators spoke about the event. That day has defined the existence of my generation, in every single facet of life, as we’ve watched the towers tumble into two wars across the world, while our domestic society has undergone major shifts and changes that we’ve gone along with in the name of security and safety. One man changed the world, and he’s now dead.

I’m not sure what I felt while listening to NPR late at night, when the rumors that Bin Laden was killed by US Special Forces in Pakistan. There’s a certain amount of relief, given the significance of the actions, but quite a bit of emptiness at the news. Bin Laden is now gone, and as the head of a terrorist group that’s killed thousands of people, I’m happy to see that he won’t be able to contribute to the overall direction and leadership, which will undoubtedly save lives in the future. At the same time, his death won’t bring back all those who’ve been killed across the world, and it won’t stop the momentum on the movement that he started.

Major political events have a certain momentum that keeps them going, and the death of Bin Laden ultimately won’t stop because their leader has been killed. It’s a setback, to be sure, just as when any organization loses their leader, they lose their particular guidance and leadership. Undoubtedly, there is some form of contingency plan on the part of Al Qaida to shift power around, and hopefully, it’s not well thought out or planned to any good degree, so that the transfer of power will be inefficient and slow down whatever plans they have coming up. That being said, Al Qaida certainly does have a population of people who support their goals and the means that they use to bring about their intended ends, and for that reason, it’s clear that the fight against terrorist activities will continue.

Hopefully, though, his death will help to further delegitimize Al Qaida as a credible entity in the eyes of those who are sympathetic to their ends. The uprisings across the Middle East have demonstrated – in part – that peaceful protest can help to gain what the people want, that violence doesn’t always have to happen. There’s no direct comparison between the efforts used to attack the US and to overthrow some of the Northern African – Arabic leaders, but there’s certainly the demonstration of alternatives. That being said, some of his supporters have already vowed violence in revenge: we’re not out of the woods yet.

Undoubtedly, we’ll see a couple of dramatic narratives on the events of the 1^st, covering the planning that went into the raid that took Bin Laden’s life: I’ll be interested in seeing everything that happened leading up to it. I’ve already read a number of fascinating accounts between the White House and the military, in a real intelligence story that involved a lot of moving parts and elements. I’m rather surprised to see some of the news point to Guantanamo Bay as a source for some of the information that helped lead to the raid. It’ll be interesting to see the aftermath in the years, and that despite the stigma that the place represented to the outside world, some parts of it proved to be useful to the security of the country. It’s hard to remember at times that there are elements that we don’t see, and it’ll be interesting to see the final cost vs. the benefit that we attained from it.

The wars in Afghanistan will continue on as well, although with the death of Bin Laden, I’m guessing that there will be a bit less support for the conflict, and its impact on global affairs will be interesting to see. The people who supported Bin Laden’s world view of a strict non-secular state ruled by his strict (and flawed) interpretation of Islam are still around and seeking to implement their views in various points around the world. Afghanistan is one place, where the country’s government allowed an attack on the United States from Bin Laden. However, the US presence in Afghanistan, and the United States’ role in world affairs should be reexamined to determine where force should be used. The core mission in Afghanistan was to depress the abilities of Al Qaida to the point where it is no longer a threat to the United States: that would seem to be further along today, but it’s far from over. Our efforts against the insurgency in Afghanistan should be evaluated, to determine whether they are a threat to the country, or to consider whether we’re changing the core mission to something far more different, which has grave consequences and implications for our stance in the world.

This feels less like a victory, and more like a stepping stone in what has turned into a long and terrible struggle. At points, it feels like we’ve lost our way, our focus and sight of what we’re out to do, but hopefully, this incident will remind us of the reasons why this happened in the first place. I for one, don’t want to think of the last ten years that helped to define the world as something of a wasted opportunity to learn and improve upon our future. If anything, hopefully the death of one evil individual will help to bring about a brighter tomorrow.

Out with a Whimper: Soft Apocalypse

In Will McIntosh's debut novel, Soft Apocalypse, the world as we know it ends with a whimper, not a bang. The end of America and the rest of the world comes out of our over indulgence, use of resources and all of the problems in society reaching a dull roar that tears down the world as we know it. This story takes a small cast of characters and looks at them over a much longer point of time than more novels, providing a unique perspective on what the future might hold.

Unlike most post-apocalyptic fiction, there's no dividing line between what was then, and everything afterwards, where stalwart survivors push on to rebuild a broken landscape the day after the world ends. In this future, everything is far more subtle: there's one instance that changes everything forever: no nuclear attack, change in the climate, overbearing governmental officials driving society into the ground, but a multitude of small factors (including the ones just listed) that drags society down into the depths, and takes the main characters, Jasper, Colin, Sophia, Phoebe, Cortez, and Ange, (and the various others that come and go) along with it.

Starting in 2023, Soft Apocalypse stands out because it takes its time to tell the story over a much longer period of time: chapters jump ahead days, weeks, months, hours and years at a time, pulling the characters along as they work to continue living in this new world as the world falls down around them. There are a lot of speculative fiction elements here: science, dystopian and post-apocalyptic parts are all here, as well as some intensely personal stories from the vibrant cast of characters that rotate in and out of sight. This is a story that takes a lot of the big events and science and shoves it into the background in favor of a strong character story.

McIntosh's story here is frightening because it feels like it could very well be one of the more realistic end of society (not necessarily the world) stories that I've come across. Barring major political screw-up, we're no longer likely going to be blown into dust by nuclear annihilation, and climate change is more likely going to have more of a gradual impact on society, rather than something sudden and jarring. People will survive, adapt and work to rebuild. What McIntosh demonstrates here is the biggest change that people will need to readjust to: finding a new set of realistic expectations for their standard of living. As the United States faces ecological and criminal elements, everything changes.

Amongst this new world, we follow Jasper, a sociology major, and some of his friends. He isn't an influential figure in the world, or even someone who's prepared for the new world, but is caught up with the events, capturing energy from alongside highways and the sun and trading charged batteries for food. We follow him and his friends over the course of a decade, as they take comfort in themselves and with others that they come across, falling in and out of relationships, gangs, and ecoterrorists along the way. Genetically engineered viruses decimate the human population as corrupt governments attempt to control populations, crazy social scenes open up, crime runs rampant, and a bunch of rogue scientists engineer a strain of bamboo designed to overtake infrastructure to slow down the government and its practices.

From this perspective, we get an interesting story, especially over the time that this post-apocalypse takes place - a decade. The book starts off a bit mixed, and if you’d asked me after the first chapter, I would have described it as a story about a hipster at the end of the world trying to continue some form of shallow existence, but after moving through the book, it’s clear that that’s a vital starting point, and by the end of the book, the changes that all of the characters go through is very clear: most of the trappings that they (and by extension, we) have become accustomed to, are superficial and won’t help us in the basics of life. There’s some rather pointed commentary here throughout the story, which makes the book all the more relevant. Considering this year, we’ve seen things like a nuclear disaster, a distrust of executive authority and other natural disasters: this book could very well be underway.

Soft Apocalypse also tracks an interesting progression in society that also helps it stand out: not everything collapses equally: throughout the novel, we see the activities (often corrupt) of police, fire, military, civil defense and gangs, and there’s certainly a shift in how these organizations interact with the public. Once again, the slow death of America here turns this style of story on its head, and by doing so, it tells some stories that might not have otherwise surfaced.

Particularly interesting throughout the book is the way that people adapt and rebuild, even as everything comes down. Jasper and all of the other characters continue to run into each other over the years, not just out of coincidence and for story convenience, I think, but because they need some level of normalcy: Jasper likewise seeks some sort of romantic interactions with various people over the years, not because of the sex, but because it’s normal, something to distract him from everything that’s going on. At the end of the book, we see people adapting to a new life: there’s new political and social structures, pushed because of the onslaught of bamboo outbreaks and genetically engineered viruses that change people’s minds. Rebuilding and society occurs because it’s natural, just as it seems particularly natural for a collapse to wipe away some of the darker things that we’ve done as a society.

By the end, Soft Apocalypse is certainly one of the better books that I’ve read all year, which surprised me quite a bit for an impulse buy, one that’s given me quite a bit to think about, fitting in with a lot of things that have been on my, and the general public’s mind, for a while, especially when it comes to consumerism and waste in society. The book is a triumph in linking together the story and themes into a cohesive, strong character driven narrative.

John Scalzi's Fuzzy Nation

John Scalzi's latest novel Fuzzy Nation opens with a bang: Holloway, a disbarred lawyer turned prospector has his dog blow up a cliff while in search of precious stones on Zara XXIII, only to be fired when he overdoes it. So begins an entertaining and smart novel, one that feels highly relevant to the modern day.

It's a novel that has no right to be as fun as it was. Holloway, an irritating man to all around him (think Sawyer from the show LOST - if this is ever made into a film, he's the perfect actor. Even better, they share names), is let go from his mining contract when he potentially costs the Zarathustra Corporation a considerable amount of embarrassment and money, only to reneigotiate his contract when it turns out that he's hit the mother load when it comes to Sunstones leading him to potentially become one of the richest men on the planet, and yielding the company trillions of credits. That is, before a small creature breaks into his cabin, one that turns out to be deceptively intelligent.

Many of the plot points in the story won't come as a surprise: anyone who has watched the news in the last couple of years will recognize the motives of an enormous company and the lengths that they'll go to to ensure their profits in the short term. Fuzzy Nation comes along like clockwork as Holloway's 'Fuzzies' are looked at as a major threat if intelligent, as conspiracies emerge and the lawyers are trucked out to protect the company.

Fuzzy Nation is a remake of H. Beam Piper's novel Little Fuzzy, but both books, while sharing plot points and characters, feel like entirely different novels. Largely gone is Piper's musings on intelligence and alien life forms, replaced with a far more straightforward and somewhat abbreviated version in Scalziverse. Where Piper was a bit more deliberative, Scalzi has amped up the story and sent it running on its own. Both work really well, and both stand on their own.

However, this novel brings out an excellent example in how remakes and reboots function. Fiction and art is created and informed by events around it's time of creation, and the context for Piper's Little Fuzzy and Scalzi's Fuzzy Nation are from very different times. Where Piper's book comes off as a story on intelligence, Scalzi goes to corporate responsibilities and the regulations that restrain them, although elements of the intelligence storyline are still there, just as there are elements in Little Fuzzy about corporate interactions with the environment.

The result seems to be as Scalzi intended: take an old story that doesn't really fit with how we now see the future, and update in his own vision. This new Fuzzy story feels more relevant to the modern day, extending beyond the window dressing of objects (touch screens, computers, space ships etc) and to the dominant themes that deal with environmentalism, free market economies and the role of government in those two things. And more importantly, where there's plenty of material there to absolutely kill a story, Scalzi makes it excel.

This is a story that I found agreeable, not only for the themes (which have been popping up in other science fiction stories, from Avatar to Moon) but for the characters. Scalzi's Holloway finds himself in problem after problem, but a driving component of the story's plot is his ability to think fast and solve problems, not through force or a whole lot of action (although there's some there), but with his knowledge of the legal system and logic that helps him gain the upper hand. It's a story of a small man against a large company and it's a gratifying thing to watch as the story unfolds. There’s a whole host of supporting characters, but Holloway (and Chad), really steal the show.

This is also probably the most fun that I've had reading a book in a long while. Readers of Scalzi's blog, Whatever, will recognize his prose, and it feels very much like this was a book that he had a blast writing. It's funny - I found myself laughing to myself every couple of pages as some familiar references: Holloway screening Return of the Jedi for the Fuzzies, and later, frying up bacon for them. Carl, Holloway's dog, is also a character in and of himself, stealing the show with his own imagined dialogue whenever he's in the scene. Think Dug, from Pixar's movie Up.

I read Fuzzy Nation nearly in a single sitting - on a bus, in the airport and on the plane as I flew down to DC for a conference, and I was a little disappointed at how quickly I blew through the book. I don't know if that's because I've also read Little Fuzzy, or because I read Whatever frequently, but this was a book with a world and characters that I was able to slip into with absolutely no problems. (In fact, it got so immersive that I missed my terminal on Logan's airport bus, much to the surprise of the bus driver.)

Fuzzy Nation is a fun, quick book, but one that's a good exercise in writing and in looking at the genre, especially when looking at a larger context for what helps to frame a story in the first place. Scalzi's long been on the record for just wanting to tell and sell a good story, and this one certainly meets that description, telling a fun story but with greater themes and plot elements that makes this book a strong, smart and thoughtful one.

Karl Marlantes on 'Matterhorn'

Each year, the Colby Symposium awards the Colby Award to a first notable book from an author that deals fundamentally with the nature of warfare and contributes substantially to the field. During the awards dinner this year, executive director and Norwich University Alum, Carlo D'Este said that it was rare that the entire committee universally agrees on a single book, but that this was the case for the 2011 prize, going to Karl Marlantes, with his first acclaimed novel, Matterhorn.

Karl Marlantes is a Marine Corps veteran, a Rhodes Scholar, and a graduate from Yale University. In the course of his military service during the Vietnam War, he earned the Bronze Star, two Purple Hearts, two Navy Commendation Medals for Valor, ten air medals and the Navy Cross, amongst numerous others. He first attempted to publish his novel in 1967 and was unsuccessful until 2009, when his book was published by El Leon Literary Arts, and later by the Atlantic Monthly Press in 2010.

Matterhorn is a work of fiction, but is closely tied to Marlantes's own experiences in Vietnam. Early in his presentation, he told the group that he wanted to tell the common experience of Vietnam, rather than simply his own: in literature, readers relate to the characters in the novel, whereas in a memoir, the reader's experience is somewhat different. He believed that fiction was the better route in this case, also because he wanted to get into the heads of a number of different characters, rather than just one person.

Like Stanton, he noted that part of a soldier's training is that people make mistakes: the key is to make sure that the mistake isn't repeated. In the instance of military operations, mistakes can be fatal, and officers are responsible for the people under their command. He noted that the military is run by human beings, and that he didn't believe that there were villains, just people with flaws.

Vietnam, he said, is akin to the alcoholic father, the elephant in the room: it's influential, but nobody wants to talk about it. Like we're seeing now in Afghanistan, we didn't understand the culture, we were restrained by very strict rules of engagement and we worked with a very corrupt and illegitimate native government. One key difference is that there is the absence of major civil unrest in the United States right now, unlike in the 1960s and 1970s. In 1969, there were over 200 fragging instances, where someone would take a fragmentation grenade and roll it into someone's tent. These incidents of fratricide were usually racially motivated. He said that when you take a bunch of 19 year olds and give them weapons, you have the very definition of racial tensions.

Another major difference was the institution of the draft. While the draft was incredibly unfair - people could be exempted from being called into service (if they were attending college, for example), but we have a burdened all volunteer military now. Marlantes asserted that changes needed to be made and that the volunteer military needs to be rethought, as extended periods of warfare put an incredible strain on our armed forces and on the country as a whole. He cited an indifference to the military right now, and that that wasn't good for anyone.

One of the major problems that helped to define Vietnam (and according to Jack Segal, Afghanistan as well): the lack of definable progress with the war. World War II was a clear cut battle: there were objectives that were captured, defined and tangible enemies that were pushed back, islands captured, and so forth. With Vietnam, the only progress was a body count (which he also noted was heavily distorted by soldiers on the ground). Using a body count as a measure of war is immoral. The purpose of the military is not to kill (although it carries that out in the course of its duties) but to stop their enemy from continuing the fight. As soon as one military gets the other to stop, they've won. The killing should never be the objective of the war. In a way, Vietnam became a game. In all things, whether it's warfare or a business, the objectives and the metrics used need to be clear-cut, careful and solid.

Marlantes also cited that there shouldn't be a separation between the people on the ground and the strategy for the war as a whole. Micromanagement of soldiers is problematic, and its essentially a double-edged sword, something that began in Vietnam, and is something that we continue with today. The people on the ground need to understand what the objectives are, and the people setting the objectives need to understand the capabilities and resources available to them in the people on the ground.

At every reading, Marlantes was asked where Matterhorn was. He fought at Hill 484, where they fought very hard to take and hold the position: at one point, they were down to seven bullets per man, before resupply. The North Vietnamese Army (NVA) was very well organized, and formidable enemies. 484, and another hill, 3107, heavily influenced the novel. He noted that a lot of people pulled him aside and recounted their own experiences, and how similar the book's lined up with their own, an indication that the war saw numerous similar experiences for a number of different people.

One major problem with Vietnam, he noted, was the way in which the war was approached and fought. Just a couple of decades after the Second World War, the Navy and Marines were geared towards certain ways of fighting: the marines were geared towards amphibious warfare, while their helicopters were geared towards tactical missions, rather than resupply. During WWII, the Marines worked to take islands, dropped off by the Navy, who would then retreat out of range. Rather than simply bombing, the Marines sought to exchange casualties for speed. However, capital ships weren't in regular danger, and that this caused problems in the execution of the war's strategy.

Personal problems also flared up: drug usage was heavy amongst soldiers, which shouldn't come as a surprise, but soldiers of Vietnam exchanged alcohol for pills, or weed. This is something that's continued forward with the current wars in Afghanistan, although now, it's through legal means, and is something that Marlantes believes will be causing a number of psychological problems for soldiers after the war is over.

Matterhorn is a novel that he hopes will demonstrate the character of the Vietnam War, and through the course of the talk, it's clear that there's a number of parallels between the conflicts in Vietnam and the ongoing conflicts in the Middle East: the changes in strategy, the metrics of warfare, the organization and command of the soldiers and the uncertain battleground and objectives. Matterhorn is on my personal to-read list, and at some point in the future, I'll have a review for it here. There are lessons in the past that should not be overlooked, or forgotten.

Doug Stanton on US Special Forces in Afghanistan

The third talk of the Colby Symposium featured author Doug Stanton, author of the widely acclaimed New York Times bestseller In Harm's Way: The Sinking of the USS Indianapolis and the Extraordinary Story of Its Survivors (Published in 2002), and Horse Soldiers: The Extraordinary Story of a Band of US Soldiers Who Rode to Victory in Afghanistan (published in 2009). Stanton has written for a number of publications, ranging from Esquire to Sports Afield to Outside, and is a contributing editor at Men's Journal. His talk centered on the Special Forces who were first deployed to Afghanistan in 2001. He opened by noting that on September 11th, he wondered what, as a writer, he was supposed to do, and realized that he could explain the situation and tell the story of the people who would be fighting.

Shortly after he released In Harm's Way, he toured the country, signing his book at bookstores across the country. At every stop along the way, he found that people everywhere had some way in which they could relate to the disaster of the U.S.S. Indianapolis: they were veterans, they had served on the ship, or were related to someone who had a meaningful relationship with the ship before it sank during the Second World War.

The sailors who had survived the sinking went through a hellish experience: hundreds of survivors in the water, without provisions and hunted by sharks (the disaster helped inspire elements of the film Jaws), numerous sailors simply gave up and perished. The descriptions were horrific: a sailor would let go from the life raft and would be set upon by sharks, after several days without water, with swollen digits and eyes, burned by the sun and hearing the screams of men around them. However, he said that many people told him that they had thought about giving up and going under, but were stopped by the memory of someone talking to them: a grandfather, parent, teacher, who encouraged them to continue onwards just a little longer. Three and a half days later, the remaining 321 survivors (out of the 880 who survived initially) were located and rescued. Stanton said that that made him wonder what he had said, what his parents and teachers had told others that would allow them to continue onwards in a hard situation. This was particularly relevant to the cadets in the room.

Stanton said that he was fortunate to be able to point attention to the veterans of the wars: their stories were at risk of being forgotten or under realized, and that writing was a particularly important way to preserve the past. People need to recognize and understand the contributions of the veterans.

When it came to researching the story behind Horse Soldiers, Stanton said that he ran into trouble because he was used to calling people up and asking them questions: the people involved in the US Special Forces weren't used to that, and he recounted several experiences where the soldiers weren't very forthcoming, because of the nature of their positions in the military, and that it took a little while before they realized what he was doing, and opened up to him. On September 10th, he told the group, you likely wouldn't have found Afghanistan on the plans for any military operation: it was a remote country that caught people by surprise, and there was a scramble to figure out just what to do. The first plans involved the deployment of conventional soldiers into the country, but there were no plans in place, nor any training to support such a mission. Plan B involved 12 Americans in a helicopter that landed in Uzbekistan, where they linked up with a couple of CIA operatives and twenty thousand Anti-Taliban fighters. Special Forces had never been used as the first people into an engagement such as this. The first operations were fast, cheap (70 million dollars), and involved around 300 soldiers, and were shortly followed up with conventional troops. On September 11th, the anti-Taliban forces had heard of the attacks on New York City and Washington DC, and realized that they would soon get help to their cause.

Special Forces, Stanton noted, were unique because they operated very differently from the conventional military: they weren't taken as seriously, because they were forced to understand how to affect changes from the inside of a command structure, rather than from an external means. As Jack Segal noted earlier, the people in Afghanistan have a very different outlook and mindset on their existence, something that has been difficult for the US to understand and either work with (or against). Building a common cause was essential, and the training that the soldiers had was essential.

Stanton talked about a training operation that special forces soldiers went through, called Pineland. USA Today has a good explanation of some of the background on the exercise here, but in short, it's a training operation that forces soldiers to work within relationships of another country: something that is highly relevant in today's battlefield in the Middle East. He noted that their training has a lot to do with failure: the key is to learn from one's mistakes, but also that it's not the decisions that they make when you have a problem: it's the decisions that you made 7 or 8 turns ago that are important.

Improvisation and decentralized decision making are important for this style of warfare as well: soldiers need to learn to improvise and to understand the context of what they are doing, but also to learn on the go as events change quickly. When the first soldiers arrived in Afghanistan, they were asked if they'd ever ridden a horse. Only two raised their hands, and that had only been as children. Stanton went on to characterize the war as a western, only with lasers. It's a situation that changes fluidly, and that the best way to understand, and to fight in a situation like that, is to understand the choices and decisions that were made earlier, and how they influence the present.

Afghanistan: America's Second Vietnam or its First Victory over Al Quida?

The second presentation in the Colby Symposium at Norwich University was titled 'Afghanistan: America's Second Vietnam or its First Victory over Al Qaida?', by Jack Segal. Segal is the Chief Political Advisor to the NATO Joint Force Command Commander, General Wolf Langheld. He is a distinguished figure, having served two tours in Vietnam with the 4th Infantry Division during the Tet Offensive and again with the 25th Infantry Division, where he earned the Bronze Star and Meritorious Service Medal. Since the war and subsequent education, he's held numerous posts in the US Diplomatic service, playing key roles in the negotiations with the Strategic Arms Reduction Talks between the US and the USSR, and was named the first US Consul General in central Russia in 1994 and became the Chief of Staff to the Under Secretary of State for Arms Control and International Security, Lynn Davis in 1995. Following that, he worked with the National Security Council at the White House as the director for Russia, Ukraine and Eurasia, and worked with the White House's Kosovo group. in 1999, he became the NSA Director for Non-Proliferation, and joined NATO in 2000. He is also a Distinguished Senior Fellow at the US National Defense University. To say that he's had a distinguished and important role in foreign affairs is a bit of an understatement.

His talk looked to the history of Afghanistan, and the roots of the conflict that we are currently in. He opened with a couple of comments about the present affairs: he noted that he always asks soldiers that he meets a question that his father asked him while he served in Vietnam: "Are you making any headway?".  When his father asked him in the 1960s, he said that he had sat on the question for a month while he tried to figure out the answer. He said that he's gotten a variety of responses from soldiers currently serving in Afghanistan. The war is complicated, he noted, politically, and geographically. One question he's fielded from politicians is that the Afghanistan border needs to be secured, to which he's replied that it's the equivalent of attempting to seal the US Border from Maine to Key West: it's a lot easier said than done.

Segal then turned to history, starting with the Buddha statues that had recently been destroyed by the Taliban, speaking to a long, troubled history with religious connotations. The statues were destroyed because they went against some of the tenents of Islam: deities aren't permitted to be represented in human form. It was an interesting example as to the lengths to which they will go to protect their faith.

Afghanistan was once part of the 'Great Game', between Persia, Russia and the United Kingdom, who went and divided up the country amongst themselves. The UK had extensive colonial interests in India, and were worried about the Russian ambitions in the region. In 1839, the first Anglo-Afghan war began at Ghazni, and while it had begun in favor of the British, by 1842, the entire British army, save for a single person, was massacred at the Khyber Pass. The UK attempted to invade twice more, with similar results, before the region was divided up politically by the major powers in the region, resulting in instability in the future. [As an aside, a good book on the British experiences in India and Afghanistan is Saul David's 'Victoria's Wars'.] The British relinquished control on August 19th, 1919. For part of the 20th century, the country went through several rulers, who made great changes in the nation, working to bring it out of isolation. The monarchy was abolished in 1973, and Afghanistan was declared a Republic.

Segal talked extensively about the Soviet invasion of 1979. On December 24th, the Soviet military deployed a large ground, air and special forces mission in the country, and installed their own Soviet-friendly leader. Thousands of people were killed under this regime. Over the next ten years, a million Afghans were killed, another 1 million internally displaced, and a further 3 million refugees. It was a major disruption to the country. The Soviet Union played out their interactions as a protection from the Mujahedeen, and sought to remove Islamist ties with the country, preferring their own atheistic model - an easy sell to the USSR. This created opportunity for enemies of the USSR: A good example is the events of Charlie Wilson's War, as the US began to funnel money and weapons into the country. At the start of the invasion, the US handed over around $1 million. By the end of the occupation 10 years later, that money ballooned to over a billion dollars.

During this time, Osama Bin Laden enters the picture in Afghanistan to help oppose the Soviet occupation and agenda: he attempted to create a holy war to kick them out. At the same time, Stinger missiles were introduced to help counter the tactical advantages that the Soviets had with their helicopters. They were wiped out, and soon, weren't able to fly. By 1989, over 16,000 Soviet soldiers were killed, a lot more wounded, and following the Soviet withdrawal, Afghanistan's Soviet placed leader, Najibullah, remained for three years before the country dissolved into Civil War, which lasted until 1996, when the Taliban game into power.

 Segal pointed out that Taliban is a plural term: the singular is Talib, which essentially means 'Student of Islam'. He noted that when we say that we're fighting 'The Taliban', it comes across that we're fighting the students of Islam, a mistake that has further molded their expectations of what we intend to do in the country. Around this same time, Osama Bin Laden has returned to the country with Al Qaida, after his citizenship was revoked by Saudi Arabia and he was kicked out of Sudan. He was welcomed by the Taliban government, and he began to set up training camps, training about a thousand people a month.

 In 2001, he helped to orchestrate the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and US response was swift, with an invasion of Afghanistan by US Special Forces. (A note, Doug Stanton, who also presented at this Symposium, talked extensively about this) By 2004, the warlords were back in control of the country, but Taliban rule has resisted between 2002 and 2006. As of 2009, a number of new players have entered the field: businesses, criminal groups, religious groups, and so forth, resulting in a splintered country. Now retired General Stanley McCrystal issued a report in 2009, stating that the situation in Afghanistan was serious, under resourced and deteriorating. A major change in strategy would be needed to turn the war around. He proposed a population centric, regional strategy, although he and Karl Eikenberry were split on what to do. As of right now, 132,000 soldiers are in Afghanistan, while there's only around 100 Al Qaida in the country.

Segal noted that there are significant problems, and a disconnect in the nation's strategy towards the country. The original mission was to disrupt the operations of Al Qaida, not the Taliban, and that two concurrent strategies, counterterrorism and counterinsurgency don't necessarily work as well together at points.

He also told the group that the situation on the ground is incredibly complex, with a network of tribes, sub tribes and conflict between other groups throughout the country. There were situations where interpreters working on behalf of the US were from an enemy tribe during sensitive interactions, causing problems. Networking, Segal said, is important, and understanding the networks and the people is vital to the success of the Afghanistan mission. He noted that we're doing good things right now: building roads, and bridges, as well as a police and military force. However, money is becoming a problem, with the costs up to around $600 million a day.

A key element to understand in the country is that Islam plays a key role in how people live their lives. In 33 out of the 34 provinces in the country, the Taliban maintain a shadow government, and are able to provide what the people want: security, and adjudication of civil disputes: they are legitimate in the eyes of a lot of people, because it is so closely linked to their beliefs. Segal said early in the talk that the thing that he learned the most was how people in the 14th century lived: the mindset it similar, because of the extreme isolation of the country. At points, US troops were asked if they were Russian, because villagers simply didn't realize that the USSR had left.

This, coupled with a lack of clarity as to what the US is working to achieve, cause problems when working to conduct a war and to justify the costs and sacrifices in the country. When asked what the conditions of victory were, he simply stated that there was no victory: just success, a self-sufficient government that could stand on its own. This brings up some issues, especially when it's realized that neither side is willing to budge or compromise on their values: the subject of women’s rights is a particularly tough one, given how ingrained some of the beliefs are in the country: the people who believe what we believe exist, but aren't in the majority.

At the end of the day, Afghanistan is a country that has proved formidable throughout its history: both the United Kingdom and the Soviet Union were driven out after long, grueling wars with high numbers of casualties. While the US doesn't have to follow this same path, there's a number of things that need to be understood about the country's history, to avoid some of the things that caused problems before.

The first is to understand the complexity of the situation on the ground, and the extensive networks and social structure in Afghanistan. Uniting the country is difficult at best, with a plethora of rivalries and grudges from group to group. Along the same lines, it's important to understand and to not underestimate the importance of Islam in the culture. The Taliban are seen as legitimate because it is very similar to what the people believe, and that the Taliban is able to provide what they want in a government: security and social adjudication. These elements need to be included, because both sides seem to be unable and unwilling to change or compromise their beliefs.

The second element to understand is the mission itself: originally, it was to disrupt Al Qaida, and to prevent them from carrying out threats against the United States: however, with a ratio of over a thousand to one, this mission seems to require rethinking. When Segal asks soldiers what headway they've made, the answer is unclear, because people involved are unclear as to the mission and the overall objectives in the country: if it's to root out Al Qaida, that's one thing, but complete and utter nation building is another mission altogether, especially when one considers the complications involved with the current conflict in Libya, and the one winding down in Iraq.

The future is unclear for Afghanistan, and it will depend greatly upon the the changes in stance, strategy and attitude towards the ongoing operations in the country.

Battlefield Doctor: Dr. Chris Coppola

Norwich University's Colby Military Writer's Symposium is an annual event that gathers military writers together in Northfield, where a series of panels and presentations help to educate the student body and general public on relevant and pressing matters in today's military. I've looked forward to the event each year, and once again, I've been impressed with the quality and information this year.

The first presentation of the symposium was held in the Kreitzberg Library's multipurpose room, featuring Dr. Chris Coppola, author of the book Coppola: A Pediatric Surgeon in Iraq, where he recounted his experiences as a surgeon in Iraq during his two deployments. In years past, where the symposium has discussed larger issues such as counterinsurgency doctrine or civilian interactions in the battlefield, this represented a bit of a departure, because it shed a bit of light on a major combat element: the casualties.

Dr. Coppola noted that the casualty infrastructure that has been put into place in Iraq during the invasion and subsequent occupation was an unprecedented one in the history of warfare. At any point in the country, a soldier or casualty was never more than twenty minutes from a hospital: once a soldier was injured, a helicopter was flown in to the scene, and the casualty was evacuated to a hospital system. A system had been put into place, with hospitals numbered with a certain level, which would allow for a certain amount of treatment. The wartime hospitals ranged from a level one to a level three center, which would allow doctors to treat and stabilize the wounded. For more serious cases, people were evacuated to Germany by plane, to level four hospitals, and eventually, to level five hospitals in the United States.

According to Dr. Coppola, this was a key element to saving lives on the battlefield. His hospital, he told us, had a survival rate of 98%: if people went in with a pulse, they had a very good chance of surviving their visit. The short trip after being wounded helped: this wasn't always the skill of the doctors there, (although with the internet, they had access to a lot of information and the cumulative experience of prior doctors), but the fact that a wounded soldier with serious injuries could be treated very quickly. Another factor, he noted, was new equipment, such as body armor and vehicles engineered to redirect blast energy if hit by an IED.

However, doctors faced new types of wounds in addition to bullets: blast wounds from explosives, were common, and resulted in numerous types of injuries. As Dr. Coppola said: anything on the body can be hurt. When he received his first patient in Iraq, he saw that he had to treat five of the most serious wounds that could be done to a person.

Civilians were another major problem that they faced, as his hospital received far more civilian casualties than they did US soldiers or even enemy combatants. This was compounded by a couple of problems: the Iraqi healthcare system was broken, with numerous doctors killed or known to have fled the country, as well as being behind the times. As a result, when word got out that there was a pediatric surgeon in the area, people began to bring their children to the hospital, where doctors worked to fix other long-standing issues, such as birth defects, injuries, and other problems that treatments simply weren't readily available for families. While the primary mission of the doctors was to treat soldiers to return to the battlefield or stabilize them for further treatment, doctors played to their strength and helped within their specialties.

One particular anecdote, Coppola recounted a story of where a known insurgent had been brought in, who had talked about killing former patients. It was an incredibly difficult thing to have to do, treating the person, but they followed through and fulfilled their mission: treating patients who came through the door. Undoubtedly, this will be an ethical question that doctors will continue to face in the future.

Coppola wrapped up by addressing the affects of warfare long after the battle is over. He acknowledged some of the problems in the system at home, in the treatment of soldiers after they have returned home. Despite the issues, he said, we owe them the care. A 20 year old amputee, he said, has a better chance of rehabilitation, and incredible advances are being made in post-injury treatment. Other problems might come up in the near future, long after we've left the battle: soldiers who are using legal drugs, such as energy drinks and sleeping pills, might have an increased risk of mental problems, with undesirable problems after the fact: there's been a rise in suicides, fratricides, and long standing problems such as Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. That's a legacy of the war that we'll need to cope with, and learn to handle as the years move on.

Coppola's talk was an enlightening one: I have a feeling that it's something that should be seen by everyone, because of the graphic nature: it's a vivid demonstration of war's effects on the people fighting it, and the people unlucky enough to be in harm's way during the conflict. Coppola seemed optimistic, though, noting that where doctors had learned from their experiences, he learned from their experiences, and that he regularly consults on cases with doctors overseas, putting his own experiences to continued use.

Welcome to the Greenhouse

Climate change is here to stay. It’s a bit of a foregone conclusion at this point, given the rise of human industrialized society and the scientific evidence that is increasingly supporting the idea that we’ve influenced how we have changed our climate to the point where it’ll cause problems for life as we know it. As such, it’s a little surprising that there isn’t more of an impact in the science fiction realm. I think that’s about to change, as that reality sinks in a little more, and it seems that there are a growing number of books that are starting to come out about the topic, which I’m rather happy about. In 2009, Paolo Bacigalupi’s novel The Windup Girl was released to great acclaim, set in a post-oil world, and is something of a novel that demonstrated what type of story really works.

Welcome to the Greenhouse: New Science Fiction on Climate Change, edited by Gordon Van Gelder, feels very much like the type of anthology that is perfect for this time and place. Published by O/R books, which has published a number of more politically minded non-fiction and political works, this anthology pulls together original sixteen stories by a number of well known and respected authors, including Alan Dean Foster, Bruce Sterling, Paul Di Filippo and Brian Aldiss, all revolving around the topic of climate change.

The anthology is a bit of a mixed bag, which feels like a missed opportunity with a field that’s likely to grow, or a good first step in what’ll likely become a good sub-genre, much like Cyber or Steampunk (Biopunk maybe?). While there are some good stories here about the threats to humanity because of global warming, the stories that really stand out here are ones that aren’t actually about the changing climate, but the ways that people are adapting to a new lifestyle because of the impact of rising sea levels, warmer temperatures or any number of other issues. As a whole, the anthology gets its strength with the stories that are heavily grounded in some form of reality, and goes astray when things get a little strange.

Stories such as ‘The Middle of Nowhere’ by Judith Moffett, ‘Eagle’, by Gregory Benford, ‘Turtle Love’ by Joseph Green, ‘The Bridge’, by Gregory Guthridge, and ‘True North’ by M.J. Locke really demonstrate the story potential that exists for stories that involve climate change: the stories that people identify with the themes that involve the characters, and these stories do so marvelously: with the change in climate comes changes for the people and their ways of life, and that’s where the stories come out.

While the anthology succeeds here, there’s a chunk of stories that just didn’t do it for me: . Some of them just didn’t have the stories that I was all that interested in, but there were a couple, like ‘That Creeping Sensation’, by Alan Dean Foster, about giant bugs that come about as the result of higher oxygen levels, and FarmEarth, by Paul Di Fillippo, about people gaming to save the climate, directing nature (and feels far too referential to things like FarmVille), and ‘Men of Summer’ by David Prill, about a woman dating a number of guys during a particularly hot point in our future, that just fell flat, and either looked at climate change as a dominant point of the story, while sacrificing the overall picture / and morals that other stories had. The anthology, as a result, isn’t stuffy or pretentiously serious, but it doesn’t quite get the balance between serious and entertaining as much as I’d like.

That being said, I think that Welcome to the Greenhouse as a whole is a solid one: it gets the idea that climate change is a serious threat to the way of life that we’ve become accustomed to, but also that there is an incredible potential for stories here. Furthermore, it’s a field that’s ripe for speculative fiction, as Bacigalupi demonstrated with his three books, as well as a growing number of other stories that are starting to come out. It’s a book that stands out in a very small field. At the same time, the absence of one of Paolo’s stories (even a reprint), is striking, and any one of his stories in his collection would have fit in well here, along with Carrie Vaughn’s Amaryllis is another story that would have fit in well here. Doubtlessly, there are a number of other stories that would work for this type of anthology, but as it stands right now, it works well, and I hope that it’ll encourage further stories in the genre: it's an important theme to explore, along the same lines that the importance of the impact that nuclear destruction had during the golden age of science fiction, either implicitly or in passing.

Currently Reading

I have a feeling that my reading will become a little more convoluted in a bit when I have a couple of reviewer copies coming in, and with a couple of books on the docket right at the moment, with some others in the queue, I need to get my head straight.

Battle: The Story of the Bulge, by John Toland

This is a definitive history of the Battle of the Bulge, one that I'm reading and referencing for the Battle of the Bulge project that I've been working on. I've also read through Gen. (RET) Ernest Harmon's Combat Commander and John Eisenhower's The Bitter Woods, which is yielding a lot of really good, detailed information on the strategic nature of the battle, but also some of the tactical elements as well. It's helping me fill in a number of blanks with some of the units that I'm currently researching. Toland's book is detailed, readable and very interesting.

Blackout, by Connie Willis

This is a book that I've had my eye on for a little while, and I bumped it up the list after trying - and failing - to get through Catherynne Valente's The Habitation of the Blessed. Keeping with the World War II theme, this story follows a couple of 2060 Oxford history students who have been going back in time to study various points. Things are starting to heat up a bit, and the book is moving along nicely. I can't wait to get further through it.

Matterhorn, by Karl Marlantes

This is lauded as one of the best books to come out about Vietnam ever. I met (and got to talk with) Mr. Marlantes when he was presented the Colby Award for the novel - it's awarded to an outstanding first work dealing with military matters, and it joins a prestigious group of books. It's based loosely on his experiences in Vietnam, and while it's a big book, I'm taking my time with this one, taking in the language and the story. It's quite something so far.

Welcome To The Greenhouse: New Science Fiction On Climate Change, edited by Gordon Van Gelder

This book is one that caught my eye and I'm set to review it once I finish it. It covers what I'm predicting will be the next wave or dominant theme of science fiction: global warming (along the same lines that the Cold War dominated science fiction) and while some of the stories here haven't been that great, there have been some outstanding ones. I think thus far, the anthology succeeds when the stories are well grounded in reality, and I hope that the stories coming up are like that.

Coming up after this batch of books are a couple of new books that came in yesterday: Catherynne Valente's Deathless and John Scalzi’s Fuzzy Nation, along with Jack Campbell’s latest addition, Dreadnaught, in his Lost Fleet series, as well as Spectyr, by Philippa Ballantine, all slated for reviews over the next month or so. Along with those, there are a couple of other books that I want to tackle after that: Ian M. Bank's Use of Weapons is one that's high up on the list, as well as William Gibson's Spook Country (and eventually, Zero History), as well as N.K. Jemisin's The Broken Kingdom. China Mieville's upcoming novel, Embassytown, is also high up there, with a number of good reviews already.

There's also a couple of non-fiction books that I'd like to get to. I need to get through to Footprints in the Dust, edited by Colin Burgess, about the Apollo 12-17 missions back in the 1970s, part of the Outward Odyssey series. I've fallen off that bandwagon for a little while as I read Ambassadors from Earth, and was put off by the horrid text, but this one looks like it'll interest me a bit more. I've picked up a couple of other books as well: John Keegan's First World War (A war I know precious little about), Thucydides, about the study of history and the upcoming Falling to Earth, by Francis French, about astronaut Al Worden.

There's a lot more beyond that, but it's a start.