ABOUT FACE By David Haskell Hackworth

DOB: Nov 11, 1930    DOD: Mar 04, 2005

David had a miserable start to life. He was born into an intact family and lived there about five months before his parents died. His paternal grandmother assumed the parental role for David as well as his brother and sister.
The ‘Great Depression,’ was hard on this spontaneously adapted family. Life was consumed by a need to eat well and by earning spare change by shining shoes of Soldiers and Marines in their home town of Ocean Park, California (today is known as Malibu, California).

David’s early informal education was supplemented by stories from his Grandmother, of the Old West in Colorado and war stories from shoe shine clients who had seen parts of the world that must have seemed magical to this young boy. His uncle added to the romance and mystique of life in uniform with stories of being gassed during WWI, in Europe.

At an early age, David was hooked on the risks and adventure of life in the world. By age 14 he was ready to experience his own escapades.
Not having parents was hurtful and helpful at the same time. The hurt came with no guidance to prevent him from leaving school in the seventh grade and trouble with Police Authorities.

The helpfulness came when he found himself on the ‘lam’, as it was known then. In order to join the Merchant Marine Service he was forced to adapt and improvise by hiring a transient to pose as his father in order to sign permission for entry. This happened in late 1945 as WWII was closing down.

By 1946 he had returned to California with an infected cut on his foot. He recovered from the infection to join the US Army using his Merchant Marine papers to lie about his age and gaining entrance.

This entire experience taught him that he had to rely on his street and common sense to adapt and prevail thru the maze of establishment bull crap. This would be useful throughout his lifetime.

His enlistment in the US Army was for three years. After training, he served in Trieste, Italy where he earned a General Educational Development High School Equivalency. Combining this book work with the military discipline that was inflicted by combat hardened WWII Veterans, ‘Hack’ as he became known, was completing an education that few men could afford, let alone withstand.
Quietly and effectively, with the brash arrogance of a well-traveled street punk, he rose to the rank of Sergeant before arriving in Korea for the start of a brand new war.

There he distinguished himself by being awarded 3 Silver Stars and 3 Purple Hearts and being promoted with a battlefield commission to 2nd Lieutenant.

After being promoted to 1st Lieutenant he was offered the command of a new unit with special, very dangerous duties. His superiors saw the potential of his ‘take a chance’ personality. The unit was named the “27th Wolfhound Raiders.”
After his third purple heart, he volunteered for a second tour of duty in Korea. He was promoted to Captain. The Armistice of July 27, 1953 Hack left the Army to further his formal education. After 2 years of college, he was burned out and bored with the routine and mundane challenges of civilian life.

He rejoined the Army in 1956 as a Captain.

‘About Face’ went on to detail almost every assignment that was given to ‘Hack’. Each duty station turned into a learning and growing experience with a dose of adventure. He was thriving within his new family.

I don’t think he recognized the Army as a family, but in fact, it was. As long as you view the command Structure as a father (‘Authority Figure’) and the benefits as the ‘Mother Figure,’ the Army was in truth his new family.
Like the willful son of some families, he took advantage of the benefits and learned to manipulate the authority, very effectively.

After Korea, he married and had children. Domestication was not his ‘cup of tea.” His family first and foremost was the Army and a wife and children was a distraction. During his life, he married three times. He had four children and one Step-daughter.

Col. Hackworth’s focus would not be fragmented.

From 1956 thru to 1965, Hack paid his Army dues by learning and growing, all the while teaching his subordinates how to stay alive in a “Real Estate Concentric War.” The ‘Fire drills,” of the early ’60s in Germany were an exciting diversion from Occupation duties.

Little did he know that Vietnam would alter most of the rules he had learned. These changes would profoundly alter his attitudes and views of the world and politics.

During the “Cold War,” the Army had changed to become a ‘Ticket Punching” merry-go-round. Another words, the Officer Corp adapted by taking care of each other. Getting and giving the right assignment that would be considered rife for promotion. This was not the kind of reward game ‘Hack’ was accustomed to playing. He preferred reward and punishment of actions with the adrenal overload that follows.

After being refused duty in Vietnam a number of times, he was assigned in 1965 as a Major. The 101st Airborne Division was his bailiwick, so to speak. He would thrive once again.

Reproducing the environment of the ‘Wolfhounds’ of Korea, ‘Hack’ would select a very special group of men for a platoon size unit. This unit was trained by ‘Hack’ to fight Guerrilla Style, just as the enemy had been doing. He called this group of unusually talented men the “Tiger Force.”

The unit would win a “Presidential Unit Citation” before ‘Hack’ left. Once he was promoted and transferred out of the unit, the “Tigers” went “native” and morphed into something very different. They began to do some very nasty things. These things would be called “War Crimes,” then and now. This was not what ‘Hack’ had created.

After the first tour in Vietnam, he would serve at the Pentagon only to be promoted to Lt. Colonel. Taking advantage of his formal education, he was assigned to write a book and various articles about the Army and Vietnam.
This experience began to sour his taste for Vietnam. He was asked to defend the war in Vietnam. This task became more and more difficult as time went on.
In 1969 he was back in combat. Assigned to train and fine-tune a ‘hardcore’ battalion of Redondos in the Mekong Delta of South Vietnam. An area called both III and IV Corp.

Part of the training mission was to teach South Vietnam Troop to set traps for the enemy. One was unique. The idea was to pick a trail that the enemy frequented and set “Claymore Mines” to go off once tripped by enemy movement. It worked perfectly for a short while. When enemy dead fell off and requests for more Claymores came in he became suspicious. He asked and was told that the idea worked quite well. The troops were eating Boar meat much more frequently.
This experience was one of the minor disappointments of his experience in Vietnam.

He began to notice that the ‘5 o’clock follies,’ a label that was used to describe the daily press conference that was held by the Army at MACV, also known as Disneyland East, were not describing the war as it was actually being prosecuted. These Press Conferences were actually not even a shadow of any reality of combat transpiring daily.

‘Hack’ became aware that bars, whorehouses, and laundrymats were owned or controlled by the South Vietnam Army’s senior officers. Even worse, he found out that twenty percent of Vietnam’s economy was being skimmed from the US and being dispersed to European Banks.

‘Hack’s’ breaking point came in two separate stages. The first of which was the My Lai incident of March 16, 1968. He didn’t believe it until the trials in 1971. This went straight to his core. The second was his experience with the incursion of the US and South Vietnam Army’s into Cambodia via the Parrot’s Beak in 1971. He found out that a minimum of dead VC and North Vietnamese Regular Army were recovered. The Pentagon calculated that it cost $153,000.00 US to kill each enemy soldier. This drove ‘Hack’ over the edge.

His advisory duties to the South Vietnam Army and the Cambodians had ‘Hack’ feeling like “he was pissing into the wind.” The frustrations became overwhelming once the Calley / Medina trial verdicts were in, and President Nixon ordered that Lt. William L. Calley be transferred from prison to house arrest, at Ft. Benning, pending appeal.

Calley served three and a half years at Ft. Benning when the court ruled that “pre-trial publicity prejudiced his trial” and released him at that point.

This drove Col. Hackworth to the emotional breaking point. By January 1971 he could see the writing on the ‘Army’s wall’ and he made the fateful decision to do a public interview on the subject of America’s involvement in Vietnam. The interview was conducted in Vietnam on a program called “Issues & Answers.” The broadcast of the program effectively ended his 25-year career with the Army.

‘Hack’ had spent a total of 4 years in Vietnam and was the most decorated soldier the Army had serving or had served. Many compared him to Colonel Billy Mitchel and Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer. Some say ‘Hack’ was depicted in the movie "Apocalypse Now" as Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore, played by Robert Duvall.

‘Hack’ had no use or respect for medals or ribbons that he called “Been There Awards.” His value was in the action, adventure and valor of combat. This is very apparent when you see the list of his awards to include 10 Silver Stars, 8 Bronze Stars with Valor and 4 Army Commendations with Valor. In addition, he was given 8 Purple Hearts (that included twice to the head).

Colonel David Haskell Hackworth retired on September 28, 1971, after 25 years of honorable service. The resignation began a short period of ‘Cloak & Dagger behavior’ to avoid the Army brass that was making a gallant effort to destroy ‘Hack’s’ military career.

He was aware that his public interview of ‘bad mouthing’ the Army, Politicians, and Vietnam would create a ‘blowback.’ Perhaps he didn’t consider that he was denigrating an organization that was considered expert at killing in a war environment. Needless to say, ‘Hack’ kept his head down and didn’t advise anyone of his whereabouts for several months after he had retired.

During this period he was divorced from his second wife. He found a stable girlfriend he reconstructed his life with a move to Australia. It took 18 years of separation from the Institution of the Army but he finally recognized the difference between “the Industry of War and Service to his Country.” Nostalgia had kicked into his psyche. He called each little war we’ve been involved in “A Street without Joy,” and any CIA involvements in war, “Nazi Policies.”

After various occupations, he returned to his roots and began writing of War, Combat, Country, Valor and inept Politicians.

“About Face,” was a good read or listen (audiobook) for a good long time. Being over 800 pages long it’s not a book you bring to the beach. The details of each duty station were themselves by thrilling. Each assignment in its own special way, given time period, would have the Hackworth mark of adventure and challenge. A book or movie could be made of each assignment or experience.

The book contained too many acronyms and he used the word “Stud” so often. I began to wonder if he knew any other word to describe his counterparts. All the acronyms were explained within the index of the book.

‘Hack’s’ most profound observations were directed toward the “Military Industrial Complex.” He observed that the Industry would perform better if they hired less former ‘Star Officers’ and were held responsible for their weapon failures. I would call this “an Industrial relationship with commercial Incest characteristics.”

He also called the Military’s qualification requirements of higher education, “Sheepskin Hysteria.”

Combat experience could not be learned in any classroom.
After reading I can tell you that it was a very good book.

Take your time. It won’t be read in a weekend or a month.

Ernest Hemingway A Biography - Book Review

Ernest Hemingway, a Biography

By Mary V. Dearborn

          I purchased this book as soon as I found out that it had been published. For years I have made a point of reading or watching everything about the man. By my late forties I had decided that there were parallel threads to both our histories. Not that I was as abusive or as talented as ‘Papa.’ It was something more vital than that.

          I’ll have more to say about that toward the end of this book review.

          I was anxious to read this book since it was the first biography of Hemingway that had been written by a woman. Finally, a different view of manufactured “machismo”. This version details a man who defined a lifestyle in the 20^th century from a female insight. Others have done similar work with the same basic research materials. They were all men. Ms. Dearborn had the added advantage of the Cuban materials, articles and exposes. His home in Cuba, Finca Vigia, has been a museum since 1961, with plenty of research materials stored and cared for. Now that Cuba has been opened by the Obama Administration, they should have been available.

          It has been my experience that when men speak or write about Hemingway, it is always with a level of hero worship. There is always the sense that the authors were establishing a pecking order or as Papa might put it, “a pissing contest.” There is always an envy factor involved when it comes to Ernest Hemingway. Not with Ms. Dearborn.

          ‘Papa Hemingway,’ written by A. E. Hotchner, for me, was the perfect example. Mr. Hotchner was his biggest admirer, protégé and best friend for fourteen years. Naturally he wasn’t going to expose any deep dark secrets, especially about his sex life with proclivities.

          That said Ms. Dearborn’s version of Hemingway’s biography was an excellent read with plenty of the new perspectives not previously mentioned or written about.

          The early years of family life was very detailed, setting the foundation for later life. The ‘Alpha’ of the family was his mother, Grace, yet he continually made efforts to please his father.

          Maybe understated by Ms. Dearborn and most others was that his mother Grace dressed Ernest and his sister in female clothing. Not stopping there, she called him her ‘Dutch Doll’.

          One of the most influential incidents of his young life was not attending college. He blamed his mother for this. Evidently she opted to build a summer cottage rather then send him off to be enriched.

          The combination of being socially, therefore emotionally abused and neglected when it came to college, created a lifelong attitude toward his mother. He never failed to call her “that bitch.”

The seminal event of his life occurred on the Austrian Front in Italy during World War I. He was an ambulance driver with the International Red Cross.

While he moved from one position to another, distributing chocolates and cigarettes, he was violently interrupted by an Austrian Mortar Shell that landed only a few feet away from him. The burst of energy knocked Ernest unconscious. Once he regained awareness he observed two Italian Soldiers. One had expired. The other had his legs traumatically amputated.

          A third soldier caught his attention. The man had survivable wounds. Not being aware of his own wounds, he proceeded to pick the soldier up with intention of delivering him to a First Aid Station. This happened with over two hundred shrapnel wounds in both legs.

          Stumbling toward to the First Aid Station, Ernest was hit again in the legs. This time it came from an Austrian machine gun. This second injury terminated his heroic effort to help the soldier. Now, they both needed help.

          Whether he was able to carry the soldier at all, let alone any further, has been debated and speculated about ever since. This was the pivotal event of Mr. Hemingway’s history. The events as recorded happened. Whether the facts were expanded upon by Hemingway is inconsequential. He was awarded the Italian Silver Medal of Valor with the official citation reading as follows: “Gravely wounded by numerous pieces of shrapnel from an enemy shell, with an admirable spirit of brotherhood, before taking care of himself, he rendered generous assistance to the Italian soldiers more seriously wounded by the same explosion and did not allow himself to be carried elsewhere until after they had been evacuated.”

From that point on Ernest Miller Hemingway would begin his long bitter/sweet passage into American History. The journey was assisted and enhanced by his talents for writing and self-promotion.

          In 1923 Mr. Hemingway made his first trip to Pamplona, Spain. It was a secondary experience of a lifetime. I’m sure it brought back all the adrenal fluids that had evaded him since July 8, 1918. The ideas of death, avoiding it and bravery all came flooding back like the shock of hysteria, into his psyche.

          This episode was the impetus for “The Sun Also Rises.” An exciting work highlighting drinking, fighting, running with the bulls, love, love lost and betrayal.

          I personally believe the experience, of 1923, cemented a formula for Hemingway. I think he found that if he wrote about life in the extreme, death dying, love and loss, he could not avoid success.

          He was correct.

My impression of Ms. Dearborn’s descriptions of his marriages is that his first wife, Hadley Richardson, was his true love and the one he felt guiltiest of divorcing. His fourth and last wife, Mary Welsh, was his care taker and the one he verbally abused and socially embarrassed the most. She probably loved him more then he loved himself.

          According to Ms. Dearborn, World War II was the beginning of the end for Mr. Hemingway. He became ‘Papa’ in Cuba in the 1940’s and remained with that moniker for the duration of his life.

Ms. Dearborn describes his auto accident in London which concussed ‘Papa’ severely enough to put him into the hospital. His irreverence and complete disregard for his condition in combination with his overinflated ego driven desire to be involved in the largest invasion of all time, took him out of his hospital bed and into the action. This was the dumbest and most impetuous act of his life. He was still suffering from the concussion and needed weeks to recover. He chose to enhance is stature among men and the literary society.

Ms. Dearborn identified five major head traumas. Without question, they were severe and would lead anyone to believe that ‘Papa’ was affected by ‘CTE’ or Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, as we know it today.

I would add that severe head trauma was sufficient enough to cause his mental deterioration of the 1940’s and 50’s. In addition to the recorded events, there were supplemental explosions during his hotel stay in Madrid during the Spanish Civil War. Not to mention, the running with the bulls in Pamplona of 1923, World War II experiences that involved any number of explosions and his boxing experiences, including a sparring match with Gene Tunney, and others.

In order to demonstrate his “Machismo” and leave no doubt of his endurance, he developed the trait of self-destruction. Perhaps he always was self-destructive. From his decision to “join the War in Europe,” to the aircraft accidents in Africa, he demonstrated, effectively, that his safety was secondary to his public image.

The winning of the Nobel Prize for Literature must have been a surprise to him and everyone around him. It wasn’t a planned stand-alone book. It was in fact, a piece of a larger work that he delayed out of mental and emotional indecision.

If you take the time to read “The Old Man and The Sea,” and you have the imagination to read between the lines, you can envision the story is a metaphor of his life.

The Old Man was “Papa.” The boy was all of his friends that he ignored from time to time. The “Big Fish” was the title of “Writer or Author.” And the Sharks were the critics, publishers, public and friends that all wanted a piece of him. The Old Man’s reading of the Dolphins, currents, weather and eating was his description of his struggle to become what he wanted to be . . . Author.

He even writes what he felt in the text of “The Old Man and The Sea.”

Preparing to go to sea, “It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.”

After he hooked the fish and began the fight to bring him in. “Let him think I am more man than I am and I will be so.”

Once he killed the fish. “I am only better than him through trickery and he meant me no harm.”

From his involvement in World War II thru to his suicide was the worst period in time of his unraveling, mentally, physically, socially and professionally.

According to Ms. Dearborn’s well chronicling “Papa” fit a number of diagnosis’s as described in the ‘DSM’ or The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The worst of which was mentioned but not officially made by any doctor was ‘Psychosis’ or ‘Psychotic’.

Ms. Dearborn plainly indicates that many mentioned or suggested but nobody wanted to paint ‘Papa’ into that kind of social straight jacket.

‘Papa’ took about twenty years to pay for his impulsive, cavalier, “devil may care” decisions and behavior. The same youthful behavior that made him larger than life, would eventually destroy him.

To sum up, Ms. Dearborn has written an insightful chronology of Ernest Miller Hemingway’s travails thru life. From her perspective I thoroughly enjoyed and learned, maybe more than I wanted, surely more than I expected.

I’m not a writer or businessman. As a consequence she lost me during ‘Papa’s’ early years while he maneuvered himself into being published consistently. I personally would not have been able to deal with him as a publisher or editor. I certainly would not have been able to deal with any his frustration of being rejected.

Two points that were not touched on in this mammoth undertaking and a third remains controversial. They were his activities as an Intelligence Agent, the contents of his FBI File and the weapon that he committed suicide with.

It seems that he not only worked for the US Government but also for the Soviets. The US involvement was complicated and more enduring then the Soviets, reaching from the Spanish Civil War, World War II in Cuba and Europe, extending into China with his third wife Marth Gellhorn. These adventures are better investigated in “Writer, Sailor, Soldier, Spy: Ernest Hemingway’s Secret Adventures,” by Nicholas Reynolds.  

          The FBI Files are a different story. J. Edgar Hoover was a strange man. He kept a file on ‘Papa’ (FBI # 64-23312) and his final entry into the file was as follows; “Knowing Hemingway as I did, I doubt he had any Communist leanings. He was a rough, tough guy and always for the underdog.”

          The controversy of the weapon is convoluted. Mary Hemingway ordered the shot gun destroyed by a local machinist, once ‘Papa’ was buried. It seems the craftsman followed instructions and cut it up, buried the remains in a field. However, he kept some identifying parts as “souvenirs”. The whole episode is documented in “Hemingway's Guns: The Sporting Arms of Ernest Hemingway” by Silvio Calabi, Steve Helsley, and Roger Sanger.   (Review)

          Ms. Dearborn’s work should open a series of other works, for years to come. A man’s life, simple or complex, doesn’t get explained away, unless done by a multitude of perspectives. With her effort, she has opened eyes and minds.

          Well done, Ms. Mary Dearborn.

Addendum:

          As I mentioned earlier, there were common events and attitudes that paralleled my life to that of ‘Papa’ Hemingway’s life.

          I enlisted in the US Navy as a junior in High School. I was seventeen years old. I went to war in my 19^th year. I returned home with no extra holes in my body, however, something was amiss. In fact, I had been poisoned with “Agent Orange,” and a number of the “Rainbow Barrels of Defoliant,” used throughout the war. I also worked in an environment that was painted with “Lead Based Paint,” and used munitions and explosives containing “Mercury Fulminate.”

          Hemingway’s drama came in fits and starts. If they weren’t spontaneous, he created the circumstances that would have lead to drama.

          My drama came so slowly it was essentially imperceptible. I got no metals that would get me gratuitous attentions, nor did I ever speak or write of my experiences.

          I did have relationships with a number of exceptional women. I married only one and remained loyal to her until her death, forty two years later.

          I now spend my life in a community of veterans of different wars, from World War II thru to present day. Each veteran has lived with the same intensity that Hemingway lived during June and July 1918. Some more intense, others less.

          The differences are profound. Most, if not all the veterans I live with are willing to talk only to other veterans. Hemingway would talk to and wrote about the torrents of his life to anybody and everybody.

          My self-destructive behavior was limited to smoking tobacco and the occasional over indulgence of alcohol. Hemingway’s self-destructiveness bordered on euthanasic behavior extending to everyone he knew, loved or admired. He reserved the ultimate act for himself.

          I have endured twelve years beyond his tenure and continue to flourish. I never needed the idol worship that he seemed to thrive on.

         

Hemingway’s Lesson

“If you are going to ride a trolley, you must expect to pay the fare.”

                                      Richard Diaz

Ebola strain of 2014   Africa/USA

All hemorrhagic infections are frightening and lethal. This new strain (2014) is no more frightening then the last version of Ebola (Zaire).  But as our attentions are drawn to cataclysmic events through out the world (ie; Mexican Border incursions by youth) water emergencies (Ohio, Detroit, Los Angeles and the rest of the world), War between Israel & Palestine, Russia vs Ukraine and civil war in Syria and Iraq, the medical facts are being conflated.

The authorities are telling us that Ebola is not an 'airborne transmission,' however, historically we've been told that, in fact, it is an airborne hazard or at least we've been left with that impression. If there is any doubt to the true facts, then question yourself, "if it's not an airborne hazard, then why do the medical professionals wear 'hazmat suits?' And why are they dealing with Ebola as a 'level 4' event?

Could it be that the "government, via the pharmaceuticals" wants to create a vaccine that should stop this modern day plague in it's tracks and earn them truck loads of money. However, vaccines have questionable efficacy and will take an enormous amount of time to develop. There are too many contaminants in vaccines for the patients to be comfortable with any vaccine policy. Especially any government edict that dictates that this or any vaccine is mandatory. Like the 5th Amendment of the Constitution of the US, when ordered to take a vaccine, the patient is being required to risk his/her health and well being.

 

Money, government and medicine, when combined, changes the definitions (as we know them) of you the citizen, the government as a tool of the people and big pharma, as you perceive them.  This is was is commonly known as "oxymoron" or a "contradiction in terms."

We observe this medical mystery as a ghost out of Africa. We know little to nothing about it, yet our medical community insists on feeding us all pablum to lull us all to sleep while they collect their form of welfare to fight this boogeyman.

My observations of this 'communicable disease', is no different from everybody else, with one very large exception. We all see and know that the mortality rate of this version of Ebola is 50 to 90 %. That means that between 5 and 9 of every patient that contracts this disease will die. That's enough to scare the Pope. But if you turn the information on it's head and ask "how do the people that don't die, survive," you have a view that can be studied and evaluated effectively.

I am suggesting that the people who have survived any form of hemorrhagic fever had and could routinely maintain a strong, vibrant immune system. This is not an accident of circumstance, it is a deliberate act of health conscientiousness. Another words, they payed attention to what they should not do and were only aware of what they should be doing.

Instead of dealing with this problem (soon to be called a pandemic), we imported one and soon to be two, cases into this continent by way of Atlanta, Georgia. This is beyond stupid, this is mindless and if the disease escapes from the CDC facility, it should and must be considered criminal. These intellectual dim wits have put us all in jeopardy and they should not be allowed to get away with it.

May a POX fall upon their homes and families.

Happy Father's Day

by Nany & Richard Diaz

Our bird Pito, a cherished member of our family for 14 years now, seemed to be feeling unwell. We noticed that he was not himself during the last couple of weeks and wanted to be left alone. He took refuge inside a towel-covered laundry basket we have on the top shelf in our laundry room. He would get inside the basket under the towel and spend many hours there in the dark. He ate very little. We didn't understand this behavior in our normally happy bird. We had a family get-together to celebrate Father's Day. Since we were busy with meal preparation, we paid little attention to Pito until everybody had gone.

Poor Pito, he looked so tired and puffy. Later in the day he began to make strange noises. Richard and I had the feeling that our precious Pito was going to die. We tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Every time he shook or made loud breathing sounds, we became more alarmed. Richard took Pito into the bathroom and set him on the counter top hoping to comfort him with the image of himself in the mirror. Richard watched nervously as the noises Pito made grew more frequent and he got puffier and puffier as time passed. I could stand it no longer and left the bathroom resigned to the fact Pito was going to die at any moment.

 Suddenly Richard called for me to come back. My heart stopped for a second and my legs grew weak as I ran back to the bathroom. “LOOK, Richard said,” and pointed. My mouth flew open and my eyes widened in amazement. I could hardly believe what I saw when I looked down.

Our boy Pito had just laid an egg!  
Happy Father's Day, Richard, Pito is a girl!

Suicide in the Trenches

I found this poem and I was moved. It's hard not to think about it once you've read it. It was written almost 100 years ago and is still valid today. This is the poem, complete.

I KNEW a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

by Siegfried Sassoon circa 1917

The Sheen Solution™

  'Bad Boy’ Behavior Due to Mercury Exposure

If you haven't already done so, please listen to my podcast at TalkShoe # 130

This was the first time that we (Charlie Sheen and I) have gone public with the fact that our conversations lasted 2 years and it influenced and motivated his turn around in social misbehavior.

To go into more specific detail of the conversations would be inappropriate. However, a further explanation of the how and why Charlie has recovered would be appropriate.

First, I had to watch and identify him as someone that I could possibly help. Watching Charlie on TV was uncomfortable for me. I knew that he was being brow beaten from every direction except for the people who were feeding him the false illusion of tranquility via the vices of drugs, alcohol and sex. I didn't have much optimism of success because of the social clutter and chaos that I knew was around him. I decided to try to make contact, regardless. I was pretty shocked when he accepted my friendship on Facebook and Skype on my first try. I was actually stalled by my success but I had to push through my hesitation and try to maintain his attention. When I succeeded in both areas I was certain that he was desperately seeking someone who would listen to him without judgment. Who could also understand the obscure, and seemingly, unintelligible code he was speaking.

Second, His motivation was easy to determine because he accepted my friendship so quickly. It was my responsibility to keep him motivated, until he was connected to his life again. I determined quickly that he was a no nonsense character and any bull-shit on my part would have driven him away. The truth was the only weapon in my bag of tricks. So I used it. Charlie was dealing with allot of complex problems that I was neither equipped nor able to help out with. I decided to give him advice that was tried and true for at least 2500 years. When I was reading about his dilemma with the program of 'Two and A Half Men', I elected to offer him advice directly out of Sun Tzu's 'Art of War'. Without telling him to sue or not to sue, I told him "Never enter a battle that you don't expect to win." When I read in the news that he had decided to sue . . . I knew that he had already won. This fight and his success would give him a lift in personality and confidence, which was a major part of his recovery.

Third, education and justification was the pivotal benchmark of his recovery. I am not a sage or have any social skills that anybody else could or should use. What I do have is an extensive education in heavy metal poisoning. I recognized, very early on, that Charlie was acting under the influence of at least mercury. Probably other metals but the mercury was the easiest to identify and correct without any great effort on either of our parts. Within one month of talking to him, I told him that I didn't think that he was an alcoholic, drug addict or an unusually violent personality. This caught his attention in a profound manner. That statement went against everything that everybody was saying to and about him. He wanted to know more. Now I had to deliver in a clear and concise way. I told Charlie that he was behaving in a way that could and should have been defined, medically, as an 'erethism'. I went farther and gave him the definition's location so that he could read it for himself. The next step was to show him how and what he was being poisoned by and I suggested that he had teeth that were filled with mercury. He researched and verified what I was telling him and he confirmed and was satisfied that what I was teaching him was true, accurate and correct.

Fourth, being three thousand miles away, I couldn't suggest to him that he rely on a support system of friends or family. The reason being, that I didn't know any of his family or friends. Besides, his family and friends, I was quite certain, had no knowledge of the subject that I was teaching Charlie. At some point, I am sure, that Charlie told, at least his family, that he was speaking to someone on the internet that was helping him out. I can only imagine what kind of cold shock and emotionally numbing paralysis that this information created. None the less, his family and friends tolerated his exchanges with me. Perhaps, they were observing that there was no harm being done or that while Charlie was on the internet, he was not doing drugs or alcohol. What ever the reason, I am grateful for their indulgences. In the span of two years, there were two unusually bad days that Charlie had to deal with. For these two incidents I recruited and relied on his brother, Emilio. I contacted Emilio and asked him to call Charlie, without giving him any reason or excuses. He did and the problem was solved. That is what I mean by a functioning support system. I'm confident that Charlie feels the same way. Without a functioning support system, my efforts would have failed.

Fifth, Undesirable influences, I saw as a problem that, I would not be able to defeat. This is the conclusion that I made. I didn't advise Charlie to get rid of any friends or family. These people were promoting his 'off the wall' behavior. With the information I was delivering and his superior intelligence, he was able to come to his own conclusions of good and bad influences. His decisions and behavior and that of some of the people around him corrected themselves. I hope that my influence on Charlie was seen as unbeatable and this motivated others to make the appropriate behavior changes. I will probably never know but I can always hope. Once Charlie removed his mercury filled teeth, I did suggest to him that he avoid people in his life with mercury in their mouths. I told him that this was essentially a guarantee of problems with behavior or compromised health. The simple fact is that nobody needs the emotional baggage of dealing with someone who is unpredictable or who has a serious health problem.

Sixth, One essential component of any sound relationship is trust, which implies faith. It was mandatory for me to communicate and demonstrate, effectively, that I would take full responsibility for any errors, mistakes or calamities that I created. I told him that everything that I was advising him to do or not to do, I had already experienced or done. I also advised him that if he took my advice that I was willing to go to court with him and testify that he was sound, stable and willing to take 100% responsibility for his children (sons). I was completely sincere and meant every word I said. Of all the conversations that we had, I think that this was one of my comments that affected him the most. I think that he concluded that I was as serious and honest as he had ever found and it gave him such a boost in moral that he was all ears from that point on. Actually, I was and am so sure that a person that is completely free of mercury influence is in fact, a genuine personality that can be relied upon, that I would be willing to wager anything and everything that I have or am.

Seventh, One area that I have not failed in, but not succeeded in, is the idea of follow thru. I know that Charlie has removed his mercury fillings from his mouth and will never again allow mercury to be applied to his teeth. What concerns me and will until he is motivated once more, is the fact that he carries a body burden of mercury (and other metals) from the early age of about 8 years old. This body burden will not go away by accident. It must be systematically attacked to instigate its evacuation. Charlie knows this because I told him. The problem is that he feels well enough to continue on with his life with minor adaptations for health anomalies. The time will come when his adaptations will not be sufficient enough and these incumbents will become symptoms, sufficient enough to diagnose a disease or condition that has no identified cause and no prescribed cure. When this event occurs, Charlie knows that he can contact me and I will do everything in my power to lead him to a recovery. The problem is that the process will not be as simple as the removal of a few fillings or teeth. It will involve my direct influence and not from 3000 miles away but in the next room or within driving distance. That will involve a life change for me and a belly full of anxiety for Charlie. I would prefer to prevent this event, rather then deal with it as a tension filled environment.

Eighth, during the two years of our conversations, both Charlie and I were dealing with life altering events that had the potential to destroy either or both of us. Under normal circumstances, if one person helps another there is usually a reward of some kind to be received. Most of the time it is economic, other times it is material. In this case it was neither and both at the same time. Basically, I helped Charlie with information and Charlie helped me with patience and tolerance. Truth be told, I believe that I’m the superior benefactor because what actually happened was that Charlie helped me thru a tough period while validating my entire life of research. He proved me correct while tolerating my rants and ramblings of misery.

I have been asked, “Why didn’t you charge him . . . he’s got money?” And, my answers to that is, if you drive down the road and see a person who has been in an accident, do you charge him for stopping and help out with information that you happen to have? My answer is NO! You get back in your car, go on you way and feel good about being able to make a difference with the abundance of information that you were able to accumulate and deliver.

Friends of the kind that we have become happen only once if a lifetime . . . if you are lucky. I have been graced with it happening to me twice. The first time, it was in the middle of a war. My shipmate and I became so familiar that we didn’t have to say words or express ideas. The simple act of a raised eyebrow or a shrug of a shoulder spoke volumes and communicated accurately and adequately. And so it is with me and Charlie. I suspect that this might be the first time experience with this kind of friendship for Charlie. Regardless, I am the one that walks away with the wealth of friendship and experience.