OPERATION TROJAN MOON
AUGUSTA GEORGIA
I know, I know, it's all old news to
you. We have all moved on to more current events. All summer long, the forecast
kept predicting that this would be a terrible hurricane season. While I was not
hoping for it, I was always ready with a packed GO bag. I committed to being
available to respond to disasters, as I was trained by TR (Team Rubicon) and they have not been shy in asking for help. It seems
that Hurricane Helene had had its way with the locals and there were trees to
cut and a huge mess to clean up. TR had
started setting up operations in 7 different areas when the first call out was
right at the time we were flying back from the island to our home in
California. We barely got home when I got the call to fly back to the east
coast. I was being deployed, just as I was getting comfy in my retirement
rocking chair. So, I headed to the airport to meet my strike team. The poop had
hit the fan in 5 states, and I was sent to Augusta Georgia, where I currently am. It was time to get
to work.
I could post tons of pictures, but you have seen enough on TV
It seems unbelievable that hurricane
Helene hit right between Perry (my deployment number 7 last year) and Mexico
Beach (my deployment number 4). This was in the Florida panhandle (Northwest
corner of the state), in what is often referred to in the catcher's mitt.
Personally, I think that Florida needs to move west, closer to California for
better weather. After this deployment, I suspect that I will be sent back
to Florida in a few weeks to help with
the damage Milton left behind. If this keeps up, I will spend more time in
Florida than I do in California.
This being my 8th deployment, I wish I could say I have seen
worse. I mean how bad does total destruction have to be for it to be
worse? Helene was a category 4 hurricane with a storm surge of 9 feet (3M) and
30" of rain (76CM) in some areas and winds up to 140 MPH (225KPH).
Think about it; that is twice the speed you drive on the highway. Trees become
missiles that can embed themselves through a wall, and trash cans become
bowling balls that break windshields. You can hide from the wind, but you have
to run from the water.
A 9-foot storm surge puts the whole ground floor of your house
under water. Your living room, bedrooms and kitchen are now an aquarium. Your
car is a submarine and your job is gone. Really gone. Within a few hours, you
have lost power, water (think toilet), phone, internet, refrigeration, TV and
lights. There are downed trees blocking your driveway and the roads and bridges
are washed out. The grocery store, pharmacy, gas station, police station... all
gone. Go ahead and call for help. Oh wait, I forgot! You don't have a phone. Besides,
they have all lost their homes too. At this point, not wanting to be over
dramatic, you realize that there is little that separates you from the life of
a caveman. Few of us can really relate to that.
Over 230 deaths in 5 states were reportedly attributed to Helene with flood waters, we are told, higher than they have been in 200 years. I am not quite sure how they could know that. They expect to find additional bodies until Xmas. Team Rubicon and other disaster response organizations do not get called out unless local authorities are overwhelmed, and this was clearly the case here. I was merely a little wheel in the giant cog of disaster responders, but a big deal to the people we are helping. My accommodations are a broken Red Cross cot in a brightly lit hallway (24-7) with 30 other people overlooking the basketball court in the community center.
Milton was a different story. Before I even flew to Agusta, it had
grown from a category 1 hurricane to a 5 in a mere 18 hours. As it approached
the Florida coast the sustained winds were 180 MPH (290KPH) with gusts over 200
MPH (320 KPH), prompting the weather bureau to suggest that a new category 6
designation might be called for. As incredible as the storm surge was from
Helene, Milton’s storm surge was predicted to be up to 15 feet (5M). Have a
look at the graphic above again. 15 feet is above the roof line.
I wanted to bring my partner (grandson) to get him out in the field, but his mom said "NO!". He had a play date.
Our end of day moonlight cruise
Operation Dragoon
On August 15, 1944, the allies led by the Americans, landed on the beaches of the French Riviera in what was code named Operation Dragoon. It was intended to happen simultaneously with Operation Overlord (The main "D" day Normandy beach landing in June) but there was a lack of equipment, so they put it off till August. One of those beaches was in our little town of Les Issambres. The invasion and landing resulted in the liberation of southern France in just 4 weeks. "So what?", you think. Without knowing this, the rest of this story would be pointless.
There are a number of monuments in the general area dedicated to the landing, including one in a park in our little town. Last May, before our return to America, I noticed that the monument had two flag poles. One flew the French flag, the other was empty. Hmmm…. shouldn’t it have an American flag, I wondered? I began to ask around, but each time they just blew me off. So, I decided to make it a project.
I started writing to a dozen people with different titles and positions to redress this shortcoming, each time being polite and mostly diplomatic but was turned down. It was hard, but I avoided pointing out that had it not been for the Americans, they would all be speaking German today. I even contacted the mayor’s office but I got no response. To say that I was persistent and relentless would be an understatement, as every two weeks I would shoot off yet another email, asking why it could not be done. I was like a dog with a bone. Even the Patriotic Association weighed in, insisting the American flag could only be flown one day a year on the date of the commemoration.
Not good enough.
For 5 months, I escalated my request, demanding to know why young American men who came halfway around the world and died to liberate people they had never met and owed nothing to, were not worthy of having their country’s flag flown next to a monument dedicated to them? In truth, I was just getting warmed up.
I think they sensed that I was getting ready to approach the local newspapers, TV stations and who knows, perhaps the American embassy. I didn't expect that any of them would make it happen but with enough pressure, bad publicity and general brou-ha-ha, they just might relent. In the end, they saved me the trouble, caved and gave in. When we say our fallen will not be forgotten, we MEAN that they will not be forgotten. I think some big dog administrator decided it would just be easier to fly the bloody flag, then to have the relentless, annoying, damn American drive them crazy any longer.
After dozens of emails and phone calls, the following (translated) was what pushed it over the top.
" Dear Mr. Mayor,
I received your response regarding my request that an American flag be raised year-round at our town monument dedicated to the American landing of Operation Dragoon which liberated Provence.
Your answer states that a flag can only be flown on the day of remembrance, once a year, on August 15th. However, on an adjoining flagpole, a few meters away, the French flag flies year-round which is entirely appropriate. It must be recognized that it was not the French who liberated Les Issambres and Provence, but the Allies led by the Americans.
The last 80 years of freedom have been marked by young American men who traveled halfway around the world and died to save people they had never met and to whom they owed nothing. I can't imagine that in return, Les Issambres would dedicate a monument in their memory and refuse to fly their country's flag next to it.
One way or another, Le Dramont (a local town) manages to keep the French, British and American flags flying all year round. The same goes for the restaurant "Le 44", as well as other establishments. Why would our town persist in not showing those young men the respect they deserve for the sacrifice they made ?
I would like to ask the Patriotic associations to review their unfavorable decision. Failing a reversal, could someone explain to me why the sacrifice of so many does not deserve a little recognition throughout the year?"
Respectfully,
Michael Laprade
Home sweet home
So, we have been back at the home base for a week. It is really nice to be at our local hideout for 5 PM cocktails at a local park with a firepit watching the sunset at the beach. We could sit at our firepit at home (and we do), but you know what they say, variety is the spice of life.
We are settling in with the usual maintenance needed after an 8 month absence. Janice is up to her eyeballs in landscaping and my first big project is to re-roof my workshop. A mere 42 years and already it needs to be re-done! A real indication of how great of a job I did the first time. It's time to catch up with friends and start prepping more projects like replacing a railroad tie retaining wall with a block wall, among others. Time marches on even if we are not here full time.
Two guys are sitting at the bar
One says to the other
"Look at the old fogies over there”
The other says
“That’s a mirror, stupid”
