Blog Post #100 and Defiant Honor

This is Blog Post #100.  A Roman C.  A Ben Franklin.  Ten tens.  Five score. 99+1.

#100 is a number that people celebrate. A Centennial Celebration.  A hundred of anything seems important because a person, an idea, or a nation stuck with something long enough to reach three digits. It’s taken me over two years to reach Blog Post #100, and I thank you for sticking with me, whenever you started reading my blog posts.

 

What better time than Blog Post #100 to shout out that I’ve finished Defiant Honor, the third and last novel in the McBee Civil War trilogy. I’m happy! I’m relieved! It’s a wrap. It’s in the can, as they say in the movie business. In fairy tales, they write, “And they all lived happily ever after.” In schmaltzy westerns, he and she ride off into the sunset, sorta like a Cialis ad, only not in bathtubs. In the book business, we type “Finis” or “The End.”

And I’ll ask for you, because I know you’re thinking it J: How does Defiant Honor end? Defiantly or meekly? Is the last chapter the last battle? Will the last page make me cry, or pump my fists like Rocky? Is the last sound a cannon’s roar or a mouse’s whimper? Are the characters who took us through three years of war, intrigue, and romantic entanglements still alive at the end of the third book? 

I’m not spoiling the book’s suspense by revealing the last chapter, or the last battle, but the last sentence in Defiant Honor reads,

“The painter was coming to finish the nursery walls that day, and she was still undecided on the color.”

Huh? Did Pollyanna join the McBee family? Painting nursery walls is not a very bellicose final statement to end three books, over a 1,000 pages of Civil War and family strife in the 1860’s. Nonetheless, I promise that the last sentence wraps up a whole lot of gritty war drama and saucy romance, and not everybody lives happily ever after.

I’m proud of the cover of Defiant Honor and owe a big thank you to the graphic designer, Karen Phillips. The cover might be considered busy in this era of bold simple book covers, designed to draw the eye as thumbnail size images on Amazon, America’s bookstore. The title letters are sure-enough bold. As for the two photos, they certainly project that the book is about the Civil War. The Confederate battle flag is still being carried forward, but is juxtaposed beneath several African-American Union soldiers celebrating under Old Glory. That cover design is not accidental. 1864 was not a happy year for the Confederacy and the soldiers of the 5^th Texas Infantry.

Here’s the whole photo taken at a reenactment outside Richmond, Virginia a couple of years ago. I’m one of the captured Rebel reenactors kneeling in angst, while reenactors of the 22^nd  Regiment of US Colored Troops (USCT) pump their weapons in the air in victory. Kudos to “embedded photographer” Jeff Cantrell for that striking photo.

A little more about the two race threads that run through Defiant Honor. Racism was rampant in the 1860’s. Many, if not most, Confederate soldiers hated the idea of ex-slaves and black freemen being good soldiers, of black men being on equal terms with them. The clashes between the “African-Yankee” regiments of the US Colored Troops and white Confederate regiments were brutal. Individual soldiers’ efforts to surrender were often ignored. Instead, the soldier who quit fighting was clubbed, shot, or bayoneted, sometimes with the epitaph “Remember Fort Pillow!” being shouted by both black soldiers wearing blue and white soldiers wearing gray.

Fort Pillow was the first publicized occasion of Confederate soldiers ignoring the universal “hands up” and killing black Union soldiers who tried to surrender. I’ve read Civil War soldiers’ memoirs from both black and white soldiers that mention both sides using “Remember Fort Pillow!” as a battle cry. It was an ugly facet of our Civil War that I’ve intentionally included in Defiant Honor.

The other race thread is that of Levi’s situation as young man with a white father who is also the man Levi must serve every day as his body servant. While John McBee eventually, reluctantly acknowledges the likelihood that he is the father of the young man who literally is his personal slave, they live in a society where that version of paternity mattered not one whit. One drop of Negro blood establishes an abyss between them over which no bridge could be built. Until John and Levi do so anyway. And that was my favorite part of writing the book. Slowly constructing the forbidden bridge between John and Levi McBee was immensely gratifying and more than offset writing the vicious battle scenes between white and black soldiers.

Since Defiant Honor just became available for sale on Amazon, and since Christmas is around the corner, here’s my once-a-book self-serving request that you consider buying a copy as a Christmas gift for someone. Or for yourself. My wife and I both think Defiant Honor is a good read—my best yet.

A Kindle download on Amazon cost $3.99. A paperback cost $14.99. Or, if you see me, ask for a paperback copy. There’s a face-to-face discount and no shipping charge. I carry copies around in my car trunk, like aspiring novelist John Grisham did before he became The John Grisham.

Here’s the link to my author’s page on Amazon where you can buy any of my novels, including Defiant Honor, in paperback or Kindle download:

 https://www.amazon.com/Philip-McBride/e/B00HPM46A6/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Happy Thanksgiving to all y’all. Nita and I are expecting a new grandson anytime now, and are ready to lavish some lovin’ on the little guy, like butter on a hot roll.

Pop and Lieutenant Dan

Remember the movie Forrest Gump?  Remember Lieutenant Dan, Forrest’s infantry platoon leader in Vietnam? He who Forrest carries out of the jungle, while under enemy fire? He who loses both his legs?

Turns out that Gary Sinise, the actor who portrayed Lieutenant Dan, is an exceptional patriot in real life. He started a foundation that does remarkable things for veterans, active members of the armed services, and children of military service men and women.

This past week, I was my dad’s “guardian” on a trip deemed “Soaring Valor.” Pop and I joined 25 other World War II veterans from Louisiana and East Texas, all in their 90’s except for one guy who’s 104, as the honored guests of Gary Sinise--Lieutenant Dan, American Airlines, and Brookshire Grocery Stores. We were flown to the National World War II Museum in New Orleans, and pampered like royalty for 48 hours.

Pampered means a charter flight to New Orleans on a brand new airplane. We were its first passengers. It smelled like a new car. The plane’s crew were volunteering their time, and both pilots had been military pilots.

We were met at the New Orleans airport by the museum’s starlets—The Victory Belles, dozens and dozens of uniformed active-duty service men and women, ROTC cadets, Boy Scouts, and just plain folks who lavished their praise and thanks on the old guys-and one old gal.

We boarded two chartered buses and followed a six-pack of New Orleans motorcycle officers who stopped the traffic at every corner like we were the President’s party. That happened every time we got on the buses. I need the phone number to get that escort service whenever I drive into Austin.

We stayed at the Hyatt Regency downtown, where the weekday breakfast buffet runs $30 a person. Nice joint. I had to be tutored on how to make the elevators work, since they had no floor-buttons to push to get up to our room floor. It’s a military secret, I can’t tell you.

The National World War II Museum is a must-see. It’s growing and is already incredible. The entry fee of about $30 is waived for all WWII vets, and a hoopla is made for every one of them who visits the museum, not just our 25 honored vets.

The museum did roll out the red carpet for our group, starting with a banquet the evening we arrived. We sat under four sparkling WWII American aircraft and next to a Sherman tank. Check out the photo of the Victory Belles singing the national anthem to start the evening. The CEO of the museum and Gary Sinise welcomed us.

 

The next morning we watched the very moving hour-long film narrated by Tom Hanks, and Gary Sinise providing the voice of the soldier’s favorite journalist, Ernie Pyle.

We were treated to a luncheon in the museum where the Victory Belles performed a terrific after-meal program of 1940’s songs, and sang Happy Birthday to the veteran whose 104^th birthday it was. Know the famous (infamous) photo of Marilyn Monroe singing Happy Birthday to President Kennedy? That’s what this old vet looked like sitting in his wheelchair, surrounded by the much-more-modest Victory Belles crooning to him.

Mr. Sinise stayed right in the middle of the action during the whole trip, starting with serving the sack lunches on the plane, along with a vice-president of American Airlines, and the CEO of the Brookshire’s Grocery Store chain and his wife. 

When I had a chance to speak with Mr. Sinise, I thanked him, and offered that some famous people are willing to give their name to a good cause, some well-off people are willing to give their money, and others are willing to give their time, but not many people with recognizable names and deep pockets do all three.

My dad was in heaven. He turned out to be a good ice-breaker within the group, since he decided twenty years ago that no one is a stranger, and he loves to talk about his experiences as a ground crewman in the Army Air Corps in Europe during the war. Pop was a bombsight technician, and here’s a photo of him looking at a surviving Norton bombsight in the museum.

Here’s a last take-away from the trip: When does military rank cease to matter to military servicemen? It’s when they are in their 90’s and being honored as surviving veterans of World War II. For 48 hours I was right next to my dad while he chatted up the other two dozen veterans. Not one of them asked the other what rank he was during the war. They always asked the others what branch of the service they were in, and maybe where they served, and sometimes what they did, but never what rank the other was, nor did I hear any of them identify their own rank. It could have been colonels chatting with privates, or admirals with petty officers. I think that is a remarkable compliment to those old vets and to our country.

Heck, the whole trip was a compliment to our country, a much-needed little showcase of positive patriotism and appreciation from one generation to another--not the divisive partisan flag-waving our intense national election has forced on us.

The WWII sailor in this lovely photo is not a reenactor. He is one of the vets on the trip who wore his dress blues one day. He could still get all 14 buttons on his trousers done—and breathe.

 Hoorah for him, and the other two dozen veterans who loved the attention, and deserved it.