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Tag / britain
November 30, 2016 December 1, 2016 by amandastiver
Short on History: Context and the Electoral Process
American, British, history
america, britain, elections, history
The recent US election has shown, among many things, that various segments of the population, but particularly younger people are missing a vital facet of education…knowledge of the past and how our written laws and systems of governance emerged from the circumstances of their era and reached up to become supra-generational universalisms (I just made that last one up). For instance, the hotly debated and debased electoral college. Some hate it, but they don't know why. Some love it, but they don't know what it is.
This is where context comes in. In the study of history (which we all should be doing, by the way) context is a short mental rehearsal of the key players, national and individual, and the geo-political or cultural spectrum of the day. Religious institutions and mores, popular societal trends, styles of government, etc. We do this when we begin to study a new historical topic. Good historians will write books interwoven with context, unfortunately, so will bad historians who make up non-existent context. One has to do a little individual research.
For instance, one popular slogan goes, "we don't need that electoral college, we just need a popular vote!" Sounds all neo-socialist, get rid of the elitists, etc, but the reality is that government structures like the electoral college were originally implemented as a check and a balance against any one side of the US government quadrangle of executive-legislative-judicial-demos (the voters) from misusing its power and presuming to take privileges that don't belong to it. This was a reaction, in part to the governmental institutions of Enlightenment Era Europe (which only went so far), and the remaining monarchies that ruled nations through both religion and dominion or kingship. The balance of power wasn't. It was also a reaction to the constitutional monarchy of England and the peculiarly interwoven parliamentary system through which aristocrats and semi-common men could rule. America sought a system with a greater balance of power.
And it is only through a kind of intergovernmental detente that our system works. Thing is, many people would like to up end the balance, from all sides of the political spectrum, in order to funnel power their way. Hence we have checks and balances, however imperfectly they function.
So there you have it, a small sampling of context and how it applies to understanding the past and the world around us now.
Where do you need to apply the tool of context for better understanding?
Keep thinking history!
– Amanda Stiver
August 5, 2016 August 6, 2016 by amandastiver
One Egg A Week: WW2 Rations and Irrational Over-consumption
American, British, Culinary, history, WWII
books, britain, cooking, food, history, rationing, WWII
Have you ever walked through the supermarket, or the out-of-doors market (if you are lucky enough to have one nearby) and stopped to appreciate just how much food we have access to on a daily basis?
Intellectually we know that there are many places around the globe where food is not so plentiful nor available. Venezuela at the moment is struggling through famine triggered by political unrest and a decade of instability. In other places it is simply the norm to be without. However, to quantify scarcity is sometimes difficult as we stroll the aisles of the supermarket and decide if we want the artisan, "hand-made" (by machines shaped like hands) cumin basil crackers or the tomato pesto anise flavor? Gasp.
Was there a time when the western world had to face food scarcity? You bet! It was called the Second World War. Almost all of the European nations, and beyond, suffered from going without. For much of continental Europe that was a result of having been overrun by hostile armies and subjected to starvation so that food could be shunted back to the German Army. Russians, German citizenry, Italians, the French, the Dutch, Spaniards (who had been going without all through the 1930's because of a civil war) all faced famine, and the list goes on and on. The British Isles certainly suffered, but theirs was, from the start, superimposed rationing to feed the populace and its soldiery. The Americans, too, ended up with varying degrees of rationing, but certainly not as strict as the British model.
And it is to British rationing that we're going to turn to help get a sense of personal scale of scarcity. The Ministry of Food was the organization that implemented rationing for the populace at the behest of the British Government. When you look over the requirements you realize how little each individual was allowed, but you also see the care and thought given to maintaining vitamin intake for children (fruits and fruit preserves were to be given to children first to sustain healthy growth). Bread and Vegetables, especially the homegrown variety, were not rationed and people were encouraged to grow their own. For adults, vegetables were the mainstay of nutrition.
What was rationed, and here is where we can begin to appreciate what and how much we have on a daily basis, was meat. Meat was rationed by price, only so much per person per week and then only of what was available and sometimes that was offal, or organ meats…heart, lungs, intestines, etc. So, no hamburgers or juicy steaks every night for a week!
Recipe books of the era recommend stews and pot pies with minimal meat supplemented by plentiful vegetables. My favorite cookbook from this era, incidentally, is a reprint by the Imperial War Museum called, Victory Cookbook: Nostalgic Food and Facts From 1940-1954 by Marguerite Patten OBE, 2002. I found it at a wonderful booksale held in the Guildhall in the city of York…a story for another time. This volume presents reprints from government material produced during the war, much of which was the work of a young woman named Marguerite Patten, whose creativity helped inspire home cooks throughout the war.
Milk was also rationed, 4-6 cups per person, per week. Think of what that meant, if you are a regular consumer of hot chocolate you could have a cup every other day, but you couldn't get the chocolate. But what if you wanted pudding…that requires milk and, whoops, you just used up your allowance. Or baking, which often requires milk… there it went again. Milk in your tea (which was also rationed, think of that the next time you order a 28 oz glass of sweetened iced tea!)? What do you choose? And yes, you could combine a family's portion, but how did you refrigerate it until you could use it? Refrigeration wasn't universal in the 1940's. Powdered milk was a big bonus, but it wasn't the same as fresh.
Something to contemplate the next time you see all those gallons of milk lined up in the dairy section as you absentmindedly grab one.
Then were was cheese and butter, 2 oz (yes, two thumbs-size slices worth) of each per person each week! That would give you roughly one small sandwich or two after-dinner cheese chasers or a quick gobble for an afternoon snack…no cheesy, gooey grilled sandwiches to eat four bites of and throw the rest away. And butter, you have to bake with butter, remember? So, cookies, scones, cake…all required major planning and the pooling of amounts between family members (which, in the days of mothers being the main organizer of home was all planned and implemented by mom, kids didn't get to take their cheese stash to their room and watch it mold).
A lot to think about. Belts were tighter then, and interestingly, mass produced bread was made with 1/2 regular "white" flour and 1/2 whole wheat or whole meal flour. As statistics were compiled during this time period, it was found that the health of the nation actually improved as a result of this austere, but very healthy diet.
Image: Amanda Stiver
And then we get to eggs, or, I should say, egg. Just one a week, and sometimes just one every two weeks. No high-protein, cheesy, three-egg breakfast omelets, no scrambled eggs, probably few egg dishes at all as these precious few eggs would have gone to work in the weekly baking. Things improved somewhat when powdered eggs were made available from the US, but if you have ever had the misfortune to consume powdered eggs regularly you will realize what a glorious blessing it is to have fresh eggs at all! Let alone the ability to buy 4 dozen at will!
Then there was sugar, and this is killer because I think it is safe to say that we nowadays could be referred to by archaeologists looking back at us from well into the future as the "sugar-eaters", so much do we consume it in sweets and even in things that should be savory. Sweets were rationed to 12 oz every four weeks. If this was granulated sugar imagine, 12 ounces is just a cup and a half, and the average cookie recipe these days typically calls for 2 cups of sugar, per batch! So for a month you could enjoy the stale remnants of your monthly less-sweet cookie baking binge. But again, even pooled together for a family of four, you would need this sugar mostly for preserving fruits, if you could get them, or making faux-fruit preserves from vegetables…Carrot Marmalade anyone? (quite serious, there was a recipe!).
So, as we step off the nostalgia tour bus, I hope you can use this personal-scale food scarcity overview to get a sense of how blessed you may be. While it is vital to do what we can to help others in need, to not waste what we have, and to share, we also need to take a moment, a deep breath, a bowed head, and thank God for what we have. America has a history of overflowing abundance and it is a very popular mindset right now to try to apologize for that abundance (while gorging on it, it seems), but ungratefulness is not improved by embarrassment or apology. To be grateful is to be grateful. Out of gratefulness flows generosity, while out of embarrassment flows self-consciousness and self-centeredness.
So let's be grateful for our blessings, look outward and share what we have!
June 29, 2016 July 3, 2016 by amandastiver
Tomorrow's History: Brexit – Should We Be Surprised?
British, General, history
Bible, Brexit, britain, Christian, europe, history
So the hammer has fallen, the vote was taken, and England (the United Kingdom as it presently stands: England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland) will depart from the EU. The uproar has been, understandably, intense. Millenials and Gen-X blame Baby Boomers for voting to leave. For wanting sovereignty as a nation and cutting off the socialist ideal of the supranational confederation called the European Union.
As an aside, it seems ironic that the very generation that has voted strongly to withdraw were the same age as the present Millenials and Gen-X are when Britain first joined the EU in 1973. Perhaps, through the hard won wisdom of experience, they have learned something and upon that experience have made their present choice? It's a thought.
A few questions about the dynamics surrounding Brexit arise: Is Britain floating out there all alone in the North Atlantic with no safety net? Is there such a thing as a long-term "supranational" league? What will happen to Europe? Who will the "big-cheese" of the continent be? What does it take to make a "united" Europe?
Leagues of nations
In our day and age, we have had experience with supranational organizations, in other words, confederations or treaty organizations in which nation states have agreed to subsume their individual sovereignty (to varying degrees and sometimes unwillingly) in favor of a power or structure that issues oversight and force upon said states. In other words, the United Nations, a kind of world congress or parliament with the power to enforce its will upon various nations. Governed purportedly by those it represents, by those very nations in congress and committee. (I question the success of this. Is there really one nation that can with objectivity judge the actions of another?)
Though the ideal of world unity, in the best of circumstances, has a ring of hopefulness to it, I remain a cynic about the actual success of this endeavor under human auspices. I believe it will take a more Divine benevolence to affect the change to peace among the peoples of the world. Peace comes with a price tag of obedience.
Returning to supranational organizations, the UK does already belong to a league of nation states that is larger in number than the EU. This financial safety net is called the Commonwealth of nations and is a vestige of much of the economic power that was wielded by Britain in the heyday of its Empire. That commonwealth has 53 member states, some of which were part of the former empire and some which were not, and it stretches around the globe, particularly in Africa and Asia. It wields, through economic cooperation and shared ideals regarding the rule of law, a considerable amount of power and influence. It counts among its members India, which has developed significant economic momentum in recent decades.
The immediate financial destruction of the UK is therefore not guaranteed, as many Brexit opponents and foreign observers have predicted.
Supranational on the long term?
Do these multi-national leagues or confederations have significant longevity? I have my doubts.
If we step back to look at ancient Rome, we see a supranational organization called…the Roman Empire. It ruled other proto-nations, peoples who gave up their sovereignty mostly by force to obey the Emperor (a religious figure it should be noted) and to some degree benefit from the financial advantages of the trade within the empire. This usually came after thousands of people from whichever ethnic group were slaughtered to prove to them how superior life (or in their case, death) by empire was.
Before Rome came other empires, Greek, Persian, Babylonian, Assyrian. None of them, Rome included, has significant longevity as a supranational conglomeration for very long. Rome strung out the original empire (with fluctuating borders here and there) for about 500 years (a good run), albeit a fairly bloody one. Persia, in various degree and conglomerations for longer than that (kind of). China as an entity went back and forth from a confederation of conquered nations to merely a group of ethnically related, but separate kingdoms just as Egypt did through the centuries. The 13th and 14th centuries A.D./C.E. being the heyday of Chinese empire, and possibly an argument could be made for the present.
Large alliances of peoples have the fluid capacity to shift and lurch in shape and form. They become, unruly. And in the ancient world unruliness was put down by force. A lot of very, violent force. The likes of you and I being the fodder of such force, and odds are, if we shift back to such a militant world climate, we will again be so. Sad to say.
What about the United States of America as a confederation? Well, first of all the "states" are as currently defined, really just provincial organizational units of the centralized government, and aren't peopled by individuals with a long-standing unified ethnic and/or language heritage, as one might describe the European "nation" states. We are a melting pot with a shared history of "coming to America" (even the Native Americans) through the centuries, particularly the 19th century. As a national alliance we are coming up on 240 years of history this year. Not a bad run, historically speaking, but with recent mismanagement (both politically and morally) the future looks, at present, bleak.
Bringing together actual nations which indeed have their own long-standing history, a specific ethnic history, and a unique language is more complex. In part because somebody has to admit that somebody else is in charge. One nation has to take the lead. We idealize the thought that it is possible to have shared power, but the reality of human nature and interaction proves that, throughout history, to be a fallacy. At best we can create balance of power, or mutually assured destruction to withhold us from the brink.
We are usually left with, on the positive side benevolent, enlightened dictatorship or oligarchy (often dressed up as a republic). On the dark side, this descends into the worst atrocities of the 20th century (as was seen in Germany and Russia, and other places).
So, supranational organizations do indeed have term limits. Sometimes they run long and other times they run very short. I think the EU, as it stands, has run short. Europe has never been a particularly non-violent place. Its history is layered with conflict as is not surprising when many peoples with long-standing histories jostle in close quarters.
Nationalism is alive
This brings up another reality. The renaissance of nationalism. The media called it the "Arab Spring" a couple of years ago, but really it is a spirit of nationalism that has moved the peoples of the world to recognize that they are unique and demand respect as individual nations, and can't be combined into one "world" through the auspices of a socialist paradise. In fact, the dream of the socialist ideal in which individuals and individual nations subsume their identities for the "greater good" as defined by someone important ruling from somewhere else, has turned into a nightmare. Economically certainly and now spiritually.
The "Nationalist Spring" has descended upon us, and is the right wing swing following on the left wing sweep of the past several decades. It is reactive, violent, and purposeful (compared to the limpid alternatives) and won't be going anywhere for a while.
So where does "Brexit" fit into this?
It is a part of the ethos that is emerging, the recognition of national identity. It is a sign that the EU, as a whole, is a failure. The UK, despite the slams against it as a puny island nation, is actually a significant economic engine and banking state. It funded a significant portion of the EU, but mismanagement (iconized by the March 2016 terrorist attacks that took place right outside the headquarters of the EU and at the Brussels airport – ie. an entity that cannot even protect itself from existential threats), the ineptitude of the handling of the refugee crisis by the other driver of the EU, Germany, through its weakening political leadership under Angela Merkel, and petty, but punishing policies handed out to member states make for an ultimately untenable internal dynamic.
Europe cannot be unified or centralized through economic bureaucracy alone, it must have a spiritual identity around which to develop oneness of mind and ideals. The indelibly anti-Europe force of the moment, the Islamic confederation of co-religionist nations has that unified calling (for better or worse). In the course of time Europe (with a strong central Germanic core) will develop something similar and then, batten down the hatches, we'll be in for a world-halting rodeo.
Without this eventual unity of calling and religious fervor, Europe can't fulfill its destiny. The aimless atheism and agnosticism of socialism doesn't even have the force to coalesce that ardent, atheistic Communism did. Religious fervor goes above and beyond even that, it has the power to change the earth for the better…or worse. It really depends on in whom you place your faith.
A surprise?
We all wondered what the outcome of the Brexit vote would be. Many assumed that things would remain as they are, but a spirit of change is sweeping around the globe and to expect the status quo to remain ad nauseam is naive. We must learn to expect the unexpected.
Does this mean that England is a lost cause? Perhaps, not yet. Taking the long view and waiting to gather additional evidence is a necessary part of analyzing current events in the light of history.
As the old curse goes: "may you live in interesting times." I think it's fair to say that we do!
June 24, 2016 by amandastiver
'Brexit' Turmoil Pales in Comparison to 'Game of Thrones' – Welcome to Reality Avoidance
Bible, Brexit, britain, history, UK
I have some thoughts on the 'Brexit' situation, and those will follow soon, but I thought I would post some "news of the absurd" first.
In a dash for the finish line of the race to avoid reality, comes the mournful, anxious wails of fans of the ultra-violent fantasy TV series, "Game of Thrones." Outstripping the international impact of the British exit from the European Union, for the Bible-literate, the prophetic implications of such a move, and certainly the political turmoil presently in the UK with Prime Minister David Cameron stepping down (not necessarily a bad thing for the UK) is the concern that production will cease on the main sets of the series that are located in Northern Ireland because the EU subsidizes the production costs (Anthony Joseph, "'Way to go Brits!' Game of Thrones Fans Fear the Hit Show Will Be Thrown into Chaos After Brexit Vote Raises Risk Bosses Won't Be Able to Finish Filming in Northern Ireland," The Daily Mail at DailyMail.co.uk, June 24, 2016).
Aw, shucks. That's tragic.
And now onto grown-up things. Folks, this is serious business. A little entertainment is fine at times, but it would behoove us to channel all that opinionated energy into the present rather than the "make-believe" non-world of fictional dramas.
Stand up for some real things, take responsibility for the culture, your personal character and the time in which you live. Your choices now will affect the future. (I look favorably on Brexit, by the way, and I believe it may not be the complete catastrophe that it is bemoaned as – just in the interest of disclosure.) Nationalism has not gone away. The apparent world peace producing potential of the EU was not what it seemed.
We live in interesting times, no doubt about it.
June 6, 2016 June 6, 2016 by amandastiver
A Look at D-Day through the Eyes of A Village: Aunay sur Odon
American, British, General, Military, WWII
america, britain, D-Day, history, old time radio, WWII
Many lives were lost during the Normandy invasion. Among the Allies and the Axis troops, but also the collateral damage that occurred in the small villages and towns over and upon which was the battlefield for Europe at that time.
Sometimes historic events and genealogy merge and you find yourself at a crossroads. In this case my own family history with the village of Aunay-sur-Odon, in the French department of Calvados near the Normandy coast. Many centuries ago my mother's ancestors followed William the Conqueror across the channel to England and later to Ireland, and possibly back to Wales. At some point they made a greater leap and came to America, maybe in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries. (Regardless, we got here somehow.)
The village of Aunay as the bombs were dropping. Source:By Conseil Régional de Basse-Normandie / National Archives USA, Attribution, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16076017
But the real story took place back in the village of Aunay after the June 6, 1944 events of D-Day, as the Allies progressed further into the countryside of Normandy and eventually across France. On June 12th, in the British sector, a decision was made to bombard a strategic crossroads between the towns of Caen and Vire, and Bayeux and Falaise. That crossroad village was Aunay-sur-Odon. The initial bombs were dropped and the village centre was obliterated along with the lives of 100 people.
Aunay after the bombardment. Source: By Reeves (Fg Off): – http://media.iwm.org.uk/iwm/mediaLib//9/media-9416/large.jpgThis is photograph HU 92982 from the collections of the Imperial War Museums., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30877964
Then, a few days later, another decision was handed down that called for the bombardment of the entire surrounding town. On June 14 and through the night into the 15th, the entire town area was barraged. 25 percent of the population was killed.
Undoubtedly, in the crush of events that pushed the invading armies across France to free the enslaved peoples of Europe, the decisions were made quickly and with the full knowledge that collateral damage would happen. The Germans dug themselves in where they could and wanted to keep the roads open for their own defenses. A strategic crossroads was a viable and necessary target for the Allied forces. This is the nature of war.
So, as we remember the sacrifices of the men who died valiantly for their countries, we also need to be reminded that war takes a very real toll on the civilians who are caught in the crossfire, or, in this case, the crossroads. It is always thus, regardless of the conflagration. There is collateral damage, often innocent people, but always those who simply want to stay out of the way but cannot.
War is not always glorious. Mostly, war is death.
Keep thinking history.
EXPERIENCE HISTORY: If you are interested in the the D-Day invasions and want to experience them as the news reports came to America through the radio broadcasts that day, tune into Conyers Old Time Radio and listen as they broadcast the original recordings from Invasion day. Try to imagine yourself, gathered with your family around the radio, waiting to hear exactly what was happening across the Atlantic Ocean. Imagine that your brother, husband, or, possibly, father was overseas and his life was on the line that day. Imagine also the villagers and people of France as they braced themselves for what was to come in the next few days once the invasion had begun.
If you've missed the June 6 broadcast, you can listen to some of the recordings here at Complete Broadcast Day D-Day from Archive.org.
May 28, 2016 May 28, 2016 by amandastiver
Tomorrow's History: Weekly Roundup (Austria Moves Right-wing – Unphotogenic: The 'Not-Kate' Effect)
Fashion, General, history, WWII
Austria, britain, Duchess of cambridge, EU, europe, fashion, history, Jane Austen, Mr Darcy, politics
Austria's Far-right Party Loses Election, But Wins As A Movement
While Americans continue to be entranced by the ongoing boxing match between U.S. Presidential candidates, another election has just thrown a spotlight on political conditions across the Atlantic. Austria, which for many people is associated more with Edelweiss and Von Trapps than political innovation, has just given the rest of the world a rare opportunity to see a political future in advance.
Ironically, Austria has, in many ways, been right at the heart-beat of European politics, from the Holy Roman Empire on to the time of the First World War, and most definitely during the Second World War and the short-lived Nazi supremacy, it has often shared the fate of its neighbor, Germany.
In this case, jubilation has broken out across most of the European Union after Alexander Van der Bellen, a leftist and academic took the election for the Austrian Presidency. Interestingly, he won by a miniscule (only 31,000 votes) majority following the counting of absentee votes, a unique and curious circumstance that is likely only to feed the fires of the political opposition that barely lost (Bernd Riegert, "Opinion: Black Eye for Austria as Van der Bellen Wins Presidency," Deutsche Welle at DW.com, May 23, 2016).
The opposition candidate, Norbert Hofer, is a right-wing politician who supports a nationalist, EU-skeptic state and opposes whole-sale entry of refugees from the Middle East. And while he may not be seated in government, the real news is that a right-wing party has gained enough momentum in Europe to take and nearly win a presidential election. And where Austria goes, Germany may follow, a well acknowledged relationship governs these two language-sharing states. The centrist Social Democrats of Austria lost the election in a big way (the same party with which German leader Angela Merkel, a Christian Democrat [which is a political party, not just a statement of faith], has a ruling coalition), indicating Austria may have just become a harbinger of the political winds that are about to change in Germany.
The refugee crisis has served on the one hand, to highlight the precarious nature of the European Union and it's fragile infrastructure of allied nations. On the other hand, it has shown that when large numbers of people (in the millions) begin to shift around the globe there will be wars. This has happened from the very ancient past onward. If a million people move from one place to another, and there is not enough room where they are going, they will bump others to the side and be perceived as a threat. That threat has been perceived in Europe, and the beginnings of a militant reaction are evident, even in this latest Austrian election.
It is well to remember the purported Chinese curse, "may you live in interesting times." I think it's safe to say that interesting times have arrived!
The Awkward Ones: Being Unphotogenic In The Age Of Digital Cameras
And now, let's go lighthearted for a change.
I recently read an amusing article by British journalist Sarah Vine. She commented on the unfortunate fashion choices of the Princesses of York, Beatrice and Eugenie, that clashed with the willowy grace of the Duchess of Cambridge (Kate Middleton) at a recent garden party held at Buckingham Palace. Kate, in a beautiful cream suit flowed gracefully in the direction of adoring party-goers, whilst trailing behind were the York sisters, who with less statuesque height chose frocks that were somewhat unusual in shape (read: ill-fitting), and bold in print and color. In the framed image, they follow behind the Duchess looking as though they are glaring daggers at the back of her head. Sigh, such is life for the imperfectly photogenic.
In reality, in the image, the sisters were undoubtedly looking elsewhere (and do in fact possess their own brand of beauty), but in the "click-click" nature of digital photography that one frame caught what looked like both a fashion and a deportment faux-pas. The author of the article goes on to discuss the challenges of those who don't look good on camera, or who always look slightly goofy, while others always seem to be perfectly composed. I can relate to the former! (Sarah Vine, "I Know Exactly How Beatrice and Eugenie Feel When They're Photographed Next To Kate: I've Been There Too, Says Sarah Vine," The Daily Mail at DailyMail.co.uk, May 25, 2016.)
But it brings up an interesting historical question (one the author also posits): What must it have been like before cameras were around? Back when the best you could hope for to perpetuate your physical appearance was a painting or sculpture? It's a thought, isn't it.
Imagine a time when animation of features, expression, and voice were valued over the angles of cheekbones and thinness of limbs. Imagine that strength of arm, determination of mind, aptitude of intellect, ability to cultivate and grow plants and animals, keep a clean, healthy, productive home, cook nutritious, delicious meals, and raise healthy, balanced children was the stuff of which virtue was made, and didn't take a back-seat to some rarefied, hormone-driven vision of what feminine "beauty" is. Difficult isn't it?
Let Mr. Darcy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice fame help us, when the subject of his contemplations are demanded of him by the hovering Miss Bingley, he replies, "…My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
Fine eyes, no less! When was the last time I heard that?!
Difficult as it may be, I think we need to spend time in that past world, imagining it more often. I have nothing against the photogenic, beauty adds to our world, but we need to find a better balance! Beauty of virtue is a thing, too (for more info, please read the book of Proverbs, chapter 31 in the Bible). If we let it, history can remind us that there is more to this life than just surface value.
June 28, 2012 May 10, 2013 by amandastiver
Book Review: "The Silver Branch"
Ancient Near East, Book Reviews, British, Military
Ancient Near East, books, britain, history, Roman Empire
Sometimes historical curiosity comes from reading historical fiction. Specifically, in this case a Rosemary Sutcliff book.
"The Silver Branch," a book by Rosemary Sutcliff (Image: Amanda Stiver)
I recently read The Silver Branch by Sutcliff (a great read, originally aimed at a teen/young adult audience, but good for all ages). The Eagle of the Ninth, its better known companion, precedes The Silver Branch, but the former was checked out of my local library so I had to jump into the middle of the series. Thankfully each part of the trilogy can stand on its own.
I was thrown back to the Roman Empire, in the 3rd century AD in the province of Britannia. As the characters, Roman, British, Irish, Dalriad, and Saxon, among others, coursed through the story from skirmishes, to escapes, from espionage, to battle the story of a rift in the Roman Empire unfolds. Three Emperors claimed three parts of the empire and the book concerns the subordinates who either undermine or support the man, Carausius, who ruled Britannia. The emperors are historical figures, but the main characters of the story, Justin and Flavius, though woven into the historical events, are fiction.
Improbable?
As fiction goes, this is reasonably legitimate. There are some flaws, as many others have noted before, particularly the eagle standard (which appears again in this book after its introduction in The Eagle of the Ninth) not being a legionary standard in actuality. An eagle was found in the ancient city of Calleva (Silchester), but it wasn't the eagle of the ninth. Still, it's probable. Some historical fiction is so outlandish that the story becomes completely ridiculous. Sutcliff's writing is believable, albeit, a number of crucial events and actions are undertaken by one fictional family, but a clear thread is necessary to make a story readable.
The Silver Branch piqued my curiosity about Roman Britain, a part of history, which was, unfortunately, the Swiss Cheese of my historical knowledge – full of holes. In high school and college the Ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Israelites as well as the Scythians, Chinese, and then English, European and American history from the time of Elizabeth I up to World War II was my focus, partly because those were the classes on offer, but also because the late Roman Empire seemed to be rather gasp-y and sad, so I tended to skip it, but now I find myself filling in my knowledge of this era. Rome had such an impact on so many cultures as friend or as foe that it really is essential knowledge of the world.
Finding your gateway to history
A nice piece of historical fiction like The Silver Branch is a good stepping-stone to delving into a new section of history. I'm interested enough now to crack my textbooks and get the slightly dryer, though still important details about Roman history clear in my mind.
Sutcliff is a fine writer and this book makes for a great literary-historical adventure!


text:
Semen Gresik to build plant in Myanmar
Myanmar: Indonesian giant Semen Gresik has announced plans to build a cement factory in Myanmar with a production capacity of up to 2.5Mt/yr. The project is estimated to cost US$500m according to Ahyanizzaman, the finance director of Semen Gresik.
PT Semen Gresik is one of four state companies asked by the government under Indonesia Incorporated to expand its operations to Myanmar. Ahyanizzaman added that Semen Gresik chose to expand to Myanmar as demand for cement in that country is strong with supplies falling well short of demand. Cement demand in Myanmar is approximately 8Mt/yr compared to a current domestic production of 4Mt/yr.
The three other state companies asked to expand their operations to Myanmar include oil and gas company PT Pertamina, construction company Wijaya Karya and Bank Negara Indonesia.
Semen Gresik
Indonesia's domestic sales grow 24% in February 2012
Indonesia: Indonesia's domestic cement sales grew strongly in February 2012, up by 23.9% year-on-year, according to data from the country's largest cement firm PT Semen Gresik. Sales for the month reached 4.1Mt, slightly higher than January 2012's 4.06Mt.
"Low 2011 loan to GDP ratio at around 30% combined with low interest rates should allow credit to continue growing, paving the way for economic growth," said Teguh Hartanto, deputy head of research at Jakarta-based Bahana Securities. The country's cement sales fluctuate from month to month depending on a variety of factors, including religious holidays, which can delay construction, and the government's end-of-year project completion deadlines.
Cemex starts paying its tax backlog
Mexico: Cemex has paid 20% of the US$361m in taxes it owes the Mexican government, with the rest due in January 2013.
The company said it made a US$72m payment on 1 March 2012. It said it has an option to extend the January 2013 obligation and opt for 36 instalments instead, a move that would cost the company a bit more.
"Cemex thinks it has adequate provisions to meet the (tax) requirement," the company said in a statement.
In 2008 the Supreme Court overturned a ruling that protected Cemex from paying taxes linked to investments in offshore tax havens. The court cited several articles in Mexico's income tax law that required Mexican companies to pay taxes locally on investments in countries where there are no taxes or where levies are 75% lower than in Mexico.
Pakistan consumption stagnant for 4 years
Pakistan: Cement manufacturers in Pakistan are regretting their decision to increase capacity as consumption has remained stagnant over the past four years, according to the All Pakistan Cement Manufacturers Association (APCMA). Exports are also declining, forcing the sector to operate at 69% of its installed capacity.
An APCMA spokesman explained how capacities were increased when the economy was booming and that most of the plant capacities were increased in the northern part of the country. For these regions Afghanistan was the only export market but its potential was limited. Exports to India were limited at that time and today as well due to many non-tariff barriers erected by India.
The spokesman regretted that the growth during the past four years had been much below expectations and that the government also failed to provide funds for, what he called, 'essential' infrastructure. The fierce competition between the mills sitting on huge capacities kept the rates of the commodity much below the average inflation in the country, he added. Rates of inputs of the industry increased in line with the inflation and rupee devaluation while the cement prices increased by just 6% from the average cement rates in 2006.
The APCMA spokesman added that exports, which provided some relief to the industry in the past few years, have declined at a rapid pace during the first eight months of the current fiscal year (July 2011 to February 2012). During this period the decline in exports was 5.57% to 5.62Mt from 5.95Mt during the corresponding period in 2010-2011. He said that exports to India, mostly via train, had increased by 39.5%.
APCMA
Tanzania's producers urged to hold prices
Tanzania: The Tanzanian government has urged cement producers to establish their own depots in remote areas to reduce the risk of rising cement prices. The Minister for Industry, Trade and Marketing, Dr Cyril Chami, said the time had come to ensure cement prices were uniform throughout the country.
"Although the manufacturing firms incur transport costs in shipping the product to the market, they offer it at retail prices that are not affordable to ordinary people," said Chami. He cited the case of Coca Cola, which sells its drinks at the same price in all the regions, saying this has been made possible with the availability of depot services. "Cement manufacturers should emulate what the soft drink producers are doing by establishing their own depots so as to ensure equitable retail price of the products in all the regions," he added.
According to one of the major producers in the country, Tanzania Portland Cement Company (TPCC), development in the construction industry will increase demand for cement demand rapidly. A recent report conducted by the Tanzania Securities Limited (TSL), shows that the cement industry is expected to grow further due to high demand from the construction industry, which has already increased by 10% since 2007.
"We expect demand to grow at 18% if the retail business, infrastructure development and mining investments are sustained and the economic momentum quickly returns to pre-global financial crisis levels," said Moremi Marwa, the TLS's report analyst.
Tanzania remains a net importer of cement and, despite the recent up-cycle expansion of about 1.4Mt/yr, there are plans to increase capacity by 0.75Mt/yr. This comprises 0.25Mt/yr from Lafarge (Mbeya Cement) and 0.5Mt/yr from Lake Cement in the next two years.
TPCC

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9-11 Memorial and Museum tickets
Home / New York / 9-11 Memorial and Museum tickets
Availability: Daily
Mobile voucher accepted
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Pay tribute at the twin reflecting pools on the site of the former World Trade Center
Explore the museum's interactive timelines, artifacts, registries and more
Learn more about the events and long-lasting impacts from 11 September
No visit to New York City is complete without visiting the somber and poignant 9-11 Memorial and Museum. Occupying roughly half of the 16-acre site, the memorial honors the 2,977 lives lost on that fateful day in September 2001. The names of the deceased are inscribed on bronze parapets surrounding the twin memorial pools.
The museum is located seven stories below the memorial, at the very foundation of where the Twin Towers once stood. You'll learn about the history of the tragic events through interactive technology, artifacts, historical records, imagery and personal stories as you explore the 110,000 square feet of space.
Timed entrance to the 9-11 Memorial and Museum
Youths ages 7-12
Young adults ages 13-17
Seniors ages 65+
Children ages 0-6: free
180 Greenwich Street, New York, NY 10007
What to remember
You will have to present your tickets for the specific time you booked. Please note you cannot enter before your booked time slot
Please note that all visitors and baggage are subject to security screening. Please limit the amount of items that you bring. No baggage larger than 8"x17"x19" (20x43x48 cm) will be permitted onto the memorial. Items deemed too large or a danger to exhibits are subject to mandatory storage in the cloakroom
The following are prohibited: alcohol; animals (except service animals); demonstrations of any kind; glass bottles; littering; paint; outside food and drinks; recreational wheeled vehicles; smoking; soliciting or leafleting; third-party commercial activities; and weapons and explosives
Wheelchairs, mechanized scooters, other power-driven mobility devices, walkers and strollers can be accommodated
Cell phones must be silenced while visitors are in the Memorial Museum's exhibition spaces
Personal photography is permitted, but visitors are asked to be mindful and respect the space
Daily from 10:00 am to 5:00 pm
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Thursdays - Mondays: 10:00 am to 5:00 pm (last entry at 4:00 pm)
Free admission Mondays from 3:30 pm to 5:00 pm
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An average visit takes approximately two hours. The last entry helps to allow visitors time to fully experience the museum
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Johnny Gilbert was an Australian bushranger shot dead by the police at the age of 23 near Binalong, New South Wales on 13 May 1865.

Gilbert was a member of Ben Hall's gang. Hall and Gilbert were both shot by police within a week of each other. Hall was shot dead on 5 May 1865 near Forbes. After Hall was killed his gang split up and Gilbert and John Dunn travelled to Binalong where Dunn had relatives.

Early life
He was born in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada in 1842. His mother Eleanor (née Wilson) died shortly after his birth. His father William subsequently married Eliza Cord, a girl only slightly older than his eldest surviving daughter, Eleanor. In 1852 John accompanied his family to the Victorian goldfields. Nine members of the Gilbert family arrived in Port Phillip on board the Revenue in October 1852. They included William and Eliza, Eleanor (Ellen), Frank, James, Charles, Thomas Charbonnelle and Nicholas Wiseman.
A contemporary of Hall and Gardiner, Johnny Gilbert, alias Roberts, was one of the gang charged with the robbery of the gold escort at Eugowra Rocks, but had not been captured. His uncle, John Davis, was found shot in April 1854 Gilbert (then known as Roberts) was arrested and charged with murder. He was acquitted but later jailed for horse stealing.

Some suggest Gilbert accompanied his uncle, John Davis, to the Victorian goldfields. However, there is no mention of Davis on the passenger list for the Revenue, though there is a ten-year-old John Gilbert. Roy Mendham, in his book, The Dictionary of Australian Bushrangers, asserts that Gilbert was responsible for the murder of his uncle.  In 1854, Davis was found shot dead, and a Joseph Roberts, an alias of John Gilbert, was tried for Davis's murder but acquitted.  Roberts was later tried for horsestealing. Roberts however was said to be about seventeen, Davis's murder occurred at the Waverley Arms at Bondi Junction. It would seem that Roberts, although possibly an alias for a John Gilbert, is not the same John Gilbert. The Gilbert family history does not include the names Roberts or Davis in Australia, although Wilson was used as an alias by Charles, his older brother who fled first to New Zealand's gold fields then to California to avoid arrest.

When he was only twelve, Gilbert worked as a stablehand at Kilmore, Victoria for his sister Eleanor and her new husband, John Stafford, for a time before moving on to the Kiandra goldfields in New South Wales.

John was usually described as quite a smart man who could read and write, and a very jolly fellow who was always laughing. It was because of his happy disposition, that John was nicknamed Happy Jack. He was also of thin slight build, and an excellent horseman.

Gang activities
At eighteen he fell under the influence of the bushranger who used the alias Frank Gardiner.

In 1862, John Gilbert was first named as an accomplice of Gardiner when they and two others held up a storekeeper.  Just over a month later, John Gilbert was involved in another robbery, this time with Gardiner, and Ben Hall. From then on John Gilbert was identified as being involved in several hold-ups between Lambing Flat (Young) and Lachlan.

Frank Gardiner enlisted the assistance of John Gilbert, Ben Hall, John O'Meally, Dan Charters, Henry Manns, Alexander Fordyce and Johnny Bow, to rob the Forbes gold escort at a place called Eugowra Rocks.

On 30 July 1863, Gilbert and O'Meally were thwarted in their attempt to rob the Commercial Bank at Carcoar in the middle of the day, managing to escape from the town when the alarm was raised before they could carry out the robbery.  That evening the pair robbed Stanley Hosie's store at nearby Caloola, taking cash and a number of articles of clothing, including silk dresses, boots and shoes which they said they wanted for "their people".  At one stage Hosie challenged either of the bushrangers to lay down his arms and engage him in a "fair fight"; the bushrangers smiled at this and one said, "No mate, we don't do business in that way".

On 6 August 1863, three prisoners named Thomas Morris, Charles Green, and James Burke, were being conveyed from Carcoar to Bathurst on the mail coach.  The prisoners, under the custody of Sergeant Morrisset and three constables, were supposed to be 'bush telegraphs' (sympathisers who kept bushrangers informed of police movements).  The three prisoners were inside the coach, along with constables Grainger and Merrin; Sergeant Morrisset sat on box with the driver, with a female passenger between them, and Constable Sutton was following on horseback at the rear. Soon after departing, as they neared the Five Mile Waterholes, a dray was seen on the road ahead.  hree horsemen came galloping towards the coach, two of whom were recognised as Gilbert and O'Meally. Gilbert and the third man rode to each side of the coach and O'Meally came to the front of the horses, shouting at the driver to "bail up". As the coach came to a stop Morrisset jumped from the box and he and the constables in the coach began to exchange fire with the bushrangers. Gilbert and O'Meally "carried on the contest", advancing and receding as they fired at the police, "and it is said they exhibited extraordinary expertness in the management of their horses – at times dropping at their sides, and then ducking down to the pommel, as they received and exchanged shots".  At one point Constable Sutton rode between the two and aimed his revolver at O'Meally, but the bushranger raised his carbine and fired first, the bullet entering Sutton's elbow and exiting at his collar-bone.  Gilbert's horse was struck by a bullet and soon after the bushrangers rode off.  The wounded trooper was taken to Blayney and the coach proceeded to Bathurst.  Dr. Machattie travelled to Blayney to treat Sutton and the next day brought him to Bathurst, reporting that his patient "was progressing favourably".  Newspaper reports speculated that the reason for Gilbert and O'Meally's attack on the mail coach was to free the prisoners from police custody.  However, John Vane, who had agreed to join Gilbert's gang about a week before this incident, claimed in his biography (published in 1908) that the bushrangers had intended to rob the mail coach and the presence of policemen had taken them by surprise.  The third bushranger was initially identified as John Vane, but he was later tried and acquitted of being involved in the attack.  Vane's own account describes the third man as "a resident of the locality".

On 15 November 1864 the gang robbed the Gundagai Mail near Jugiong and Gilbert shot Sergeant Parry dead.

Gilbert's capture and death, based on the report from Constable Hales

Senior Constable Charles Hales of the Binalong police station received information at 8:00 PM on 12 May 1865 that the two bushrangers had "stuck up" the Woolshed near Murrumburrah. He suspected they would be in the area of Binalong due to John Dunn's relatives living in the area. He thought they might visit John Kelly, Dunn's grandfather.

Senior Constable Hale immediately gathered constables John Bright and Michael King and headed out to watch Kelly's house. They watched most of the night, but saw no one enter, so returned to the police station about half a mile away.

The next morning at 8:00 AM, John Kelly (under the influence of alcohol) informed Senior Constable Hales that Gilbert and Dunn were at his hut. Hales gathered Constables John Bright, Michael King and Henry Hall and headed to Kelly's place. Two parties were formed, Bright and Hall went to the back of the hut and were stationed in the creek. Hales and King were stationed at the front of the hut.

The troopers watched for about an hour in the rain. At some stage Kelly's son, Thomas, approached the stockyard. Hales called him over to ask if there were strangers in the house, to which he said "No." Hales and King approached the house and the dogs started barking. John Kelly and his wife came to the door of the hut, and seeing Trooper Hales, Kelly called out "Look out, the hut is surrounded by bloody troopers." As Hales entered the hut two shots were fired, Hales looked through the slabs of the bedroom wall to see the shadows of two men. Hales immediately fired and ran to the front room of the hut. He then called out "Men, surround the hut—the bushrangers are inside". Hales warned Kelly if he did not immediately turn out, they would burn the hut.

Hales heard firing in the paddock at the end of the hut. He ran out to the area and saw the bushrangers firing at Constables King and Hall. The bushrangers kept up the fire as they got through a bush fence that led to the creek and took up position behind a large tree. Gilbert used his revolving rifle on Hales and Bright but it misfired. Meanwhile, King and Hall took up positions. Dunn and Gilbert started firing their revolvers at Hall and King, and ran down to the creek. Hales and Bright immediately fired at the bushrangers, at which time Gilbert dropped.

Hales ordered his men to follow and to chase Dunn. King was left to guard Gilbert's body as King was wounded in the foot. The three constables chased Dunn for about a mile and a half, they were exhausted and had to give up the pursuit. Dunn escaped, but was caught later and was hanged on 19 March 1866.

The 3 constables returned to Gilbert's body. Constable Henry Hall was put in charge of the body. They searched the body and found money, jewellery, powder flask, guns, and bullets. The guns included a Tranter revolving rifle and a government issue revolver.

Gilbert's body was taken back to the Binalong police station and deposited at the court house. John Kelly and his son were apprehended and brought before Magistrate Campbell of Yass. They were remanded for 8 days and released on bail.

An inquest was held on 14 May 1865 and it was generally agreed that Constable John Bright fired the fatal shot. It was also agreed that Gilbert had died instantly. The verdict of the jury at the inquest was "justifiable homicide." The jury also found "that Senior Constable Hales and Constables Bright, King and Hall were deserving of great praise for the gallant and courageous manner in which they acted." Gilbert's body was buried in the police paddock behind the station.

The Government reward for the dead bushranger was divided up as follows: the informer received £500; Hales, £150; Bright, £130; King, £120; and Hall £100.

At the time of his death he had become Australia's worst criminal, being involved in more than 630 hold-ups.

Folklore
As a member of Ben Hall's gang, Gilbert is mentioned in a number of songs about Hall's life and exploits.  For example, in the chorus of a song called "The Morning of the Fray", also called"Eugowra Rocks", the chorus runs:
You can sing of Johnny Gilbert Dan Morgan and Ben Hall
But the bold and reckless Gardiner he's the boy to beat them all

In the song "Ben Hall", the fifth verse references Gilbert and Dunn:
With twelve revolving rifles all pointed at his head
Where are you Gilbert? where is Dunn? he loudly did call
It was all in vain they were not there to witness his downfall

There is a similar song about "Frank Gardiner", where the third verse gives a slightly different version of Gilbert's death to the history books:
Young Vane, he has surrendered, Ben Hall's got his death wound
And as for Johnny Gilbert, near Binalong was found
He was all alone and lost his horse, three troopers came in sight
And he fought the three most manfully, got slaughtered in the fight

Gilbert is also mentioned in "The Streets of Forbes", another song about Ben Hall.

Gilbert is also the subject of a poem by Banjo Patterson, titled "How Gilbert Died". While it is great poetry, it is somewhat romanticized and cavalier of the facts of his death.

Film and Television

John Gilbert appeared in the 1977 ABC-BBC-20th Century Fox television series Ben Hall, and was portrayed by Australian actor John Orcsik.
John Gilbert is a major character in the 2016 feature film The Legend of Ben Hall and is portrayed by Australian actor Jamie Coffa.

See also
 Frank Gardiner–Ben Hall gang

References

External links
 Biography of Gilbert
 Wild Colonial Boys - Frank Gardiner, Ben Hall, and John Gilbert
 Death of John Gilbert - bush ranger: Grandpa Pencil's Australian Colonial Intelligence
 John Gilbert
 Waverley Library - Items of Historical Interest - "Murder at Waverley Arms"

Bushrangers
Deaths by firearm in New South Wales
Australian people of Canadian descent
People from Hamilton, Ontario
People shot dead by law enforcement officers in Australia
1842 births
1865 deaths

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U-turn: Lexus has previously said it was not interested in going smaller than the NX SUV, but the UX Concept points to a possible new crossover contender.
LEXUS has signalled its intention to expand its line-up into the ever-growing small SUV segment with its edgy UX concept at the Paris motor show this week.
While the Japanese luxury car-maker insists the UX is a design concept only at this stage, it highlighted the importance of Australia's burgeoning crossover segment, suggesting that a production version is on the cards.
"Small SUV premium is one of Australia's fastest growing automotive segments," the company says in a release. "Young customers are upgrading in the quest for distinctive styling, a versatile interior and an engaging driving experience, while premium customers are looking to downsize without compromising on comfort, driving position and space.
If Lexus does give the green light for a production model, it would be positioned under its successful NX SUV and go head-to-head with the Audi Q2, Mini Countryman and other small premium crossovers.
Lexus Australia product PR and events manager Nick Raman told GoAuto that if a production model was to be made available, the car-maker's local arm would be keen to introduce it.
"We would be very interested in the UX if it became available as a production vehicle," he said.
As already reported, a production version of the UX could share its underpinnings with parent company Toyota's forthcoming crossover, the C-HR, that is set to land in Australia early next year.
In fact, the UX has the same 2640mm wheelbase as the C-HR, but is 50mm longer, 20mm higher and 50mm wider than its Toyota cousin.
Penned at Lexus' ED2 design centre in southern France, the four-seater UX is the next installation in the car-maker's design language which has evolved in the current crop of models, most notably the RX and NX SUVs.
It features what Lexus describes as an "inside out" design and "deconstructed" interior styling and has low ground clearance and a coupe-like silhouette.
Lexus says the inside out theme is represented by the "X-shaped movement" of the fenders flowing into the cabin to form the housings for the camera mirror displays, while the dash top sits below these screens, forming the deconstructed look and improves forward visibility.
The UX introduces an evolution of the well known Lexus spindle grille, with the company reporting that the elements surrounding the grille, rather than just the grille itself, "creates the identity of the vehicle".
A new 'Immersive Amethyst' paintwork with multi-layered depth was designed to emphasise the shape of the UX, "giving definition to the sculpture and expressing the car as a volume rather than simply a line-oriented design".
The L-shaped daytime running lights are now positioned to pierce the main headlights – a shift from other Lexus models that have the DRLs sitting just below the lights, while the tail-lights are integrated into the spoiler and have a 3D signature.
Other unique touches include a transparent polycarbonate "see-through" A-pillar and a tyre design that uses a high-tech laser carving process to create two aspects.
Inside, the futuristic cabin houses Lexus' spider web-like Kinetic Seat Design that the company revealed earlier this month, and the rear seating area has been styled to feel like a "welcoming, soft lounge sofa" that wraps around into the doors.
The lighting arrangement in the front of the cabin adds a premium feel, while there is more light in the rear, creating a more welcoming space.
The inside out theme extends to the instruments which have the appearance of being distant, but are actually close enough for the driver to easily see and reach when stationary.
Three-dimensional styling flourishes and digital controls are found inside, while all switchgear is electrostatic and housed under transparent covers.
There are no details of powertrains, but if the UX makes it to production, it could use Lexus' 2.0-litre turbocharged petrol engine found in the IS, NX, RX and RC, as well as a hybrid setup.


Last month, Realme launched the 'Realme 3' smartphone in India. Now, the smartphone is all set to go on sale for the fourth time today on Flipkart and Realme Online Store. The sale will start at 12 PM noon IST.
The Realme 3 is the successor of the popular Realme 2 smartphone. The smartphone was on sale the last week and went out of stock within minutes. Till now, the company managed to sell 3,11,800 units after three rounds of sale, the company revealed it via Twitter.
Offers include Flat Rs. 500 discount on Axis Bank Credit & Debit cards.


text:
Eric William Dane (São Francisco, 9 de novembro de 1972) é um ator norte-americano. Dane ficou conhecido por seu papel como o cirurgião plástico, Dr. Mark Sloan (vulgarmente conhecido por Mc Steamy), na série de sucesso Grey's Anatomy, transmitida pelo canal ABC. Também interpretou o Capitão Tom Chandler na série da TNT, The Last Ship. Também participou no filme X-Men: O Confronto Final, em que interpretou o mutante Madrox, o homem-múltiplo. Fez também o seriado Charmed onde atuava como Jason Dean, namorado da personagem Phoebe Halliwell. Atualmente Interpreta Cal Jacobs, na série da HBO, Euphoria.

Grey's Anatomy
Mark Sloan é o personagem que entrou em Grey's Anatomy na segunda temporada como amante de Addison Montgomery (Kate Walsh), casada com Derek Shepherd (Patrick Dempsey). Na série, Mark é cirurgião plástico, e acaba sendo contratado pelo diretor do Seattle Grace Hospital (futuramente Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital), Richard Webber (James Pickens Jr.). No início, Mark sofre com a indiferença e a raiva de Shepherd, já que ambos eram muito amigos e estudaram juntos em Nova York. Sloan é considerado mulherengo, por flertar com todas as enfermeiras e médicas do hospital. Mas na quinta temporada, ele se apaixona por Lexie Grey (Chyler Leigh). E acaba deixando a série na oitava para nona temporada quando sofre um acidente e acaba não resistindo já no Seattle Grace Hospital. Quase nos últimos episódios da nona temporada, para homenageá-lo e sua parceira Lexie Grey, então o conselho do hospital decide mudar o nome do Hospital para Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital.

Filmografia

Cinema
 2017 — The Blue Mauritius — Peter Underwood
 2016 — Grey Lady — Doyle
 2010 – Burlesque - Marcus
 2010 – Valentine's Day - Sean Jackson
 2008 – Marley & Eu - Sebastian
 2006 – X-Men: O Confronto Final - Madrox-Homem-Múltiplo 2006 – Guerra de Casamento - Ben
 2006 – Pânico em Alto Mar - Dan
 2005 – Banquete no Inferno - Herói
 2005 - Painkiller Jane - Nick Pierce

 Televisão
 1991 -	Saved by the Bell -	Tad Pogue
 2004 – Helter Skelter - Charles Tex Watson
 2003 – 2004 - Charmed – Jason Dean
 2006 – 2012 / 2021 - Grey's Anatomy – Dr. Mark Sloan (Mc Steamy)
 2009 – 2010 —	Private Practice –	Dr. Mark Sloan
 2014 – 2018 - The Last Ship - Tom Chandler
 2015 - The Fixer - Carter - Minissérie
 2019 – atualmente - Euphoria'' - Cal Jacobs

Vida pessoal
Dane foi casado com a também actriz, Rebecca Gayheart, com quem tem as filhas, Billie Beatrice Dane, nascida em 3 de Março de 2010 e Georgia Geraldine Dane em 28 de Dezembro de 2011.

Ligações externas

Atores dos Estados Unidos
Vencedores do Prémio Screen Actors Guild de melhor elenco em série dramática
Satellite de melhor elenco em série de televisão
Naturais de São Francisco (Califórnia)


text:
20. How to Forget Details
Day forty-seven of my imprisonment. My new morning routine consisted of waking up before dawn, when the streetlights winked out to greet the sun as it appeared on the horizon. As silly as it seemed, watching the sunrise every morning gave me a sense of peace - a rare feeling nowadays.
I had a few hours to kill before Simon arrived with his breakfast sandwiches. After the first time he came, I didn't expect him to show up again, convinced that the Alpha would revoke the company. But when he arrived the next day, bearing more food, I realized that this would be a regular thing.
I suspected Rebecca pulled a few more strings to allow Simon to keep coming here.
But Simon wouldn't be here until mid-morning, at least, so I entertained myself by throwing my mirror shards at the makeshift target on my wall. It was difficult - it was the knuckles on my right hand I'd broken, my dominant hand, so my aim wasn't at cultivated on my left. But I took the opportunity with seething pleasure, seizing the chance to make my left-hand throw just as deadly as my right.
When I got tired of that, I took a shower, which was also quite difficult to do with only one hand. It's amazing how much you don't realize you rely on having two working hands until one is taken from you.
I then would sit down on an armchair with one of the books Simon brought for me. After I told him my origin story, he pulled out the books he'd come in with, telling me about them. Apparently, they were texts on supernatural beings of all kinds, written by supernatural beings, not the silly folklore or myths humans tell.
He'd also brought me a clock, which was great, since telling time by the sun's position in the sky was nearly impossible. No matter how much I stared at it, no sudden realization of the time had dawned on me. I don't know how ancient humans were able to do it. So, of course the clock was useful.
I glanced at it now, averting my gaze from the book I was reading, A Summary Of The Supernatural. It wasn't the most original title. I bet I could have come up with something far better, like Guide To Crazy or What To Do When You've Pissed Off An Entire Race Of Mystical Creatures.
Also, it was nearly ten. Simon appeared unfailingly by nine every day.
Obviously, he wasn't coming today.
I sighed, disappointment swelling through me. I shouldn't be surprised. It was only a matter of time before the Alpha revoked my one source of company. I wonder, how long will it take before he inevitably storms in here and steals my books? It doesn't matter, anyways. I shouldn't care about Simon, not at all. He's a werewolf. I kill werewolves.
Don't fraternize with the enemy, Reese.
Still, there was something about Simon I had liked, something that reminded me of...
A mangled scream of pure agony erupted from me as Dad crumpled to the ground, blood streaming from the lethal wound on his throat.
Save him, murmured a voice in my head - a different voice from the one I'd heard earlier. This voice was familiar, a persistent tone that was always there. My conscience. You know you can.
I can't. I was only fifteen. Though I had my heart set on going to medical school, I had no idea what to do. I knew first aid, and that was all. It's not like I can slap a band-aid on him and kiss it better.
The jagged flap of skin that hung from his neck told me otherwise.
He's dead. There's nothing for you to do.
My head spun. The temperature rose. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Was this grief? Was this how it usually felt? I'd have to ask Mom. Nobody close to me had ever died before, and certainly not while I was watching.
The air grew stifling hot. My skin felt like it was on fire. Cedric, who was gripping my arm tightly, hissed through his teeth. His jaw was clenched, his face tense, like he was in pain.
"Reese," he said. "Calm down. You need to calm down."
Calm down? How could he say that? My Dad was lying not twenty feet away from me, blood pooling around him, and the temperature was climbing like we were descending into the fiery pits of Hell. The wind was picking up, but I couldn't feel the breeze.
"Reese, listen to me," Cedric repeated. "Control your emotions."
Control my emotions? Was he suggesting that I was the one making the Earth boil away? Were my pain and rage really that strong?
Forget, whispered a voice - the new one, the one that had warned me about the danger.
I can't forget.
The wolf, its muzzle and paws stained red, turned away from Dad, its attention now fixed on Cedric - no, me who was standing behind my brother, numb with shock and disbelief. What had I just witnessed? What had just happened? And there was a freaking wolf. Here. In the middle of the city.
Any predators that do show up in Toronto are often scrawny and thin, half-starved. There's not much for them to hunt downtown, unless they scavenge. But this wolf was strong and sleek, its dark grey coat luscious and thick. It didn't at all look like it was on the brink of starvation. It looked like it was thriving.
Its eyes, too, were quite unusual. They were a bright, brilliant green, though as I met its gaze, its pupils dilated, overtaking the iris. I sucked in a breath. Cedric's arm shot out to block me.
An image flashed across my mind, a mental photo of the boy who'd called Dad a Hunter. He'd had green eyes too, in that exact shade. And those strange, terrifying paws with razor-sharp claws...
"No..." I whispered. "Impossible?"
"Reese?" Cedric's voice was tight with tension. "What is?"
"The wolf... the boy... it's impossible."
The wolf was still staring at me, its eyes unreadable. It took a step towards us. Immediately, my gaze flickered to the dagger still clutched in Dad's hand. If I could somehow get to it...
"Elijah."
I jumped as somebody else strode out onto the scene of the murder; a boy, not the same one as before. His hair was thick, wavy, and black, the same as the other boy, though his eyes were a pale, cold shade of blue. He was younger, too, closer to my age, maybe sixteen at the most.
His hands were a bright, scarlet red. Blood.
It was only then that I was aware of the screams echoing in the distance, toward the University.
The wolf growled - and, as I watched, it transformed. A crack sounded out, a sound that made me cringe. I knew what it was. It was the same noise that had came from Thomas when he broke his arm last year.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"Cedric..." I whispered hoarsely. "What is that?"
"It will be okay, Reese," his hand came up to stroke my hair - a familiar gesture, one he's done since I was a screaming toddler seeking comfort.
The first boy, the one with the paws, stood where the wolf had, and he was completely streaked with blood. I knew instinctively that most of it was Dad's.
The rest came from the jagged gash on his chest, where blood was still continuously streaming out.
"Nic," the boy nodded at Dad - or what was him, anyways. Without life animating him, he was just a corpse. A useless body.
The second boy - Nic - stared down at Dad. A sadistic grin spread across his face. "Is that him? The last one?"
"Yes. But there's a problem."
"What could possibly be wrong now, Elijah? The last Hunter's dead. There's nothing keeping us hidden anymore."
Elijah spoke softly, the words unable to reach my ears. I knew Cedric and I should get out of there, but I was frozen, numb, and terrified. Elijah gestured, pointing out the body of the wolf Dad had killed.
A growl erupted from Nic. "I'll kill him."
"I believe I've already taken care of that."
With a ferocious snarl, Nic kicked at Dad's body. I heard the crunch as his ribs shattered from the impact.
"Stop it!" I screamed out before I could stop myself. Nic's head jerked up, and I took a step back at the sight of his eyes. They were black - pure, pitch black, inhumanely so.
His grin returned. "Well, it appears that the Hunter has a few Hunterlings. Did you really just kill their father in front of them, Elijah? What a ruthless Alpha you'll make."
Alpha? As in, a pack?
Elijah's gaze swept over me, and then Cedric. His entire demeanor seemed to change as I saw realization creep into his eyes.
"Well, Eli? What are you going to do with them?" Nic's voice was eager. "Are you going to let me kill them?"
Slowly, Elijah turned on his brother, his expression carefully blank. "Kill them? Now, why would I do such a thing?"
"Their father killed ours. It's only fitting - "
"I'm not going to murder a couple of children, Nicholas," he turned back to us. "I have... other ways to exact revenge."
Children? He's not much older than Cedric! Who's he to call us children? I knew Cedric wouldn't take kindly to the comment either, but luckily he held his tongue. Unlike Thomas, my older brother knows when to talk and when to keep quiet.
"Well, Hunterlings?" Elijah raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to come say goodbye to your dear father?" his voice was taunting. It's amazing how much somebody's demeanor can change in the span of a few minutes.
I didn't want to move. I wanted to leave. I wanted to go home. I wanted to wake up and hope that this was all some horrible nightmare.
But it wasn't a dream. I wasn't asleep. I was awake, and this was very real, no matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise.
I let Cedric take the lead on this one, knowing he'd pick the smartest decision, and I was only half-surprised when he tightened his grip on my arm and walked forward, toward the two... boys? Wolves? Monsters?
We knelt next to Dad's body, the grass wet with his blood. The red liquid stained my jeans as I kneeled, but I didn't care.
Elijah crouched down, and I was startled at his proximity. I didn't dare look at him. If I did, I'd probably do something I'd end up regretting. They say taking a life does something to you, and I don't ever want to find out.
I'm not a violent person, but I've never wanted to hurt anybody more.
"Making them confront their dead father? That's your plan?" Nicholas scoffed. "You're going to send them off with nothing but trauma?"
"Who said I'm letting them go?" Elijah didn't move. "What's your name, Hunterling?"
I glanced at Cedric. He nodded, obviously tense.
"Reese," I whispered. "Reese Hearne."
"Well, Reese Hearne, I believe we're going to become very acquainted with one another in the future."
Leave, whispered the voice. Get out of here. Run.
Metal flashed out of the corner of my eye. The dagger.
I moved.
Cedric was faster.
He swept up the dagger in his hand, spinning out. He sent the dagger stabbing into Nicholas's thigh and turned toward Elijah.
Elijah didn't move, even at the sound of his brother's cry of pain and rage. He was still staring at me, his green eyes steady.
I knelt, numb, staring into his eyes, even as Cedric screamed at me to run.
"You'd better leave, Little Hunter," he said. "I'm much faster than any human."
"You killed my dad," I said softly. "I'll never forget it. One day, I will find you, and I will make you regret it. I promise you that."
He chuckled. "Oh, I have no doubt that we'll see one another again, Reese Hearne."
The next thing I knew, Cedric had yanked me up by the arm, and then we were running.
"What were those, Cedric?" I asked when we'd reached the nearest subway station. The streets had been in chaos, and I felt like it had something to do with the screams I'd heard earlier.
"Werewolves, Reese," he said. "They're werewolves. And I think everything is about to change."
Later, I'd ask him about Dad. Why they'd kept calling him a Hunter. Cedric would say that I wasn't meant to find out, not yet, and that I wasn't ready. The temperature around us would rise, and his blue eyes would sparkle with golden flecks.
"Forget, Reese," he had said. "I need you to forget, until you need to remember."
I forgot. I forgot the finer details of the day. Everything I'd learned about Dad, I forgot. I didn't hear the word Hunter again until two years later. I forgot about the stifling temperature and the way the blood had pulsed out of Dad's throat as he died.
But I never forgot the pain. The rage.
And I never forgot my promise to Elijah.
My eyes strained. I fought to focus them, forcing myself to concentrate on the page before me. I was still reading A Summary of the Supernatural, in the section on Hybrids.
Apparently, they're a thing. Supernatural beings that have supernatural parents, but the parents are from different races. As there's a natural dislike between the supernatural races, though, hybrids are rare, the rarest of them all being the vampire-werewolf hybrid. Though there's no official name for them, I think the author should have come up with something original and called them vampwolves or something.
It's no secret of the intense hatred between vampires and werewolves, so it's rare for them to have any sort of positive relationship. What's more, female vampires can't carry children, as their bodies are unable to change in order to support a fetus. Male vampires, however, have no such problem and can impregnate a werewolf.
Gross. I didn't think this book would be a supernatural sex-ed lesson.
Hybrids are also even more dangerous than your average supernatural being. Their parents have conflicting abilities, and sometimes that much power can make a person unstable. There could be a child who acts like a vampire but can also wield magic, or a werewolf who has additional vampire strength that makes them much stronger than any other supernatural being.
Honestly, everything in this book is kind of interesting. Even the gross stuff.
The door to the room opened. I glanced up, expecting - and hoping - that Simon had finally shown up.
I was disappointed, though. It wasn't Simon. It was Luca, along with - ugh - Keith.
"Ah," I slammed the book shut, setting it on the coffee table, and lay back in the armchair. "Come to give dear old me a visit? While I appreciate the company, I'd rather it wasn't you," I swung my feet over the arm. "I tend to avoid the company of those who tried to kill me."
Keith growled. It really was easy to piss some people off.
"Technically," Luca said, his voice as calm and neutral as always. "I never tried to kill you. But we're not here to visit. The Alpha wants to see you."
A surprised laugh exploded from me. "Well, this is certainly a surprise," I looked carefully at Luca. "Can you tell him I received his request and put it under careful consideration? I'm not really in the mood for conversation until I eat my breakfast."
Luca stepped forward. "I think you misunderstand me, Reese. We're here to escort you to him."
"How thoughtful of him," I unhooked my legs, leaning forward. "Do I need protecting from someone, or does someone need protecting from me? Or is it both?" I sighed as I got no reaction from either of them. I pushed myself into a standing position, hissing in a breath as a sharp pain shot through my right hand. "Right, let's get this over with, then."
And that is how, after forty-seven days of being in a time-out, I made my own triumphant return from solitude.
It was just as glorious as I thought it would be.
Which is to say, it was neither triumphant nor glorious.
20. 20. How to Forget Details
Books Similar to 'Divergent'
Books Similar to '13 Reasons Why'
Books Similar to 'American Horror Story'
Books Similar to 'Me Before You'
Books Similar to George R.R. Martin's
Books About Nightmares
Books Similar to 'Twilight'
Books Similar to 'Psycho'
Books Similar to 'Wild'


Abi & Toby are such a lovely and perfect couple. We clicked from the day we met, and it was such an honour to be a part of their special day. The engagement shoot we did was absolutely incredible - chemistry, love, happiness, everything!
Their wedding was also featured on the most amazing blog Rock My Wedding, so for more details, please have a read here.
Once I finished shooting their wedding, we ended up sitting by the fire watching the stars and chatting away, I honestly didn't want to leave, and was even offered a spare tent to camp in by some of the guests who were also camping there.


Our final engagement of 2016 saw us provide more seasonal music this afternoon at Asda ... this time in Barrhead.
This evening we accompanied the singing at the Carol Service in Newton Mearns Baptist Church. It is always a pleasure to play at this service and again the band were very well received and complemented for their playing.
We provided some seasonal music at Asda, Newton Mearns today. The shoppers were very complementary and quite impressed by the standard of playing and deportment of each of the three groups that played over a 5 hour period.
Today was our annual pilgrimage to Perth Concert Hall for the Scottish Youth Band Championships. We gained a Gold Award and 2nd place overall for our performance in the Development Section. This was the first time LVCB had been placed at the national championships and the band could not have played any better. A fantastic achievement ... well done to everyone connected to the band!!
Tonight was our Annual Concert and Awards presentation in Carlibar Primary. Our guest band this year was King's Park Youth Band conducted by Alan Pratt. Each band played a number of pieces before combining at the end to play 500 Miles. LVCB's contribution included The Magic of The Beatles, Blueberry Hill, Viva La Vida and Hoots Mon! Our Trombone section featured in Swingbone and our kit player, Rachael, featured in the aptly named Stick It! This years awards were presented by Douglas Yates and went to Eilidh Weatherston ... Musician of the Year & Players Choice Award, Most Improved Player was Sam Reynolds and Darcie Campbell received the award for Most Promising Player.
A number of players from the band provided entertainment at the Scottish Mental Health Music event in The Foundry, Barrhead. The band were well received by a very appreciative audience. We even have some video evidence of band members showing off their dancing moves in a Barrhead version of The Slosh!!
This weekend it was off to Gartmore House for Band Camp. We had a fantastic time with lots of laughs and hard work in sectionals and full band. A big thanks to all the band and tutors who made the Camp so enjoyable. When's the next one!
Today finds us back at Asda, Newton Mearns for another bag pack. No playing this time, just packing. Thanks to all the parents and band members who took part and raised a sum in excess of £600!
Tonight was our first rehearsal back after the summer break!!
Today we took part in a Concert with King's Park and Gorbals Youth Bands. The concert was held in St Andrew's in the Square, Glasgow and was organised by King's Park. It was a great afternoon of music making with some fine playing by all performers in front of a capacity audience. Well done to the organisers and hopefully it can be repeated.
After the excitement of last week's concert we relaxed tonight when we held our annual social event at Café 158. This is an night to thank the band for all their hard work in 2015 and an opportunity for the beginners to mix socially with the others.
As we had to cancel our Annual Concert in 2015 we also presented our Annual Awards for 2015 tonight. These awards were presented by long time supporter of the band Douglas Yates.
The beginners performed as a group tonight at the Concert in Carlibar PS playing Song & Dance by Ernie Waites. They also helped the older players perform Blaze Away, Three Jazz Pieces, Tijuana Taxi and I Will Follow Him. We also played The Raiders March as massed band item with the other bands in the concert ... East Renfrewshire Brass Ensemble, Barrhead Burgh Band an Croy Band.
Tonight was the first rehearsal for our new intake of players. Our 10 beginners came along to experience daunting pleasure of their first time playing in a large ensemble and left full of confidence.


text:
FINDING PEACE IN A GODLESS WORLD
NO HEROES
A BAD TRIP
AIDING AND ABETTING
TROUBLE AHEAD
THE COURT MARSHAL
MEDICAL HEARING
YOU CAN NEVER GO HOME AGAIN
GOING DOWN FOR THE LAST TIME
THE LORD'S WINE
THE WELL KNOWN STRANGER
MY LOVER'S LOVE
THE FALLEN LEAF
COSMIC BEINGS
SIR PEEPAWS
PHOTOETRY
Bethesda Naval Hospital was an interesting place, known to most in the area as Roosevelt's last erection. There were tunnels underground that led to who knows where and rooms full of blinking lights and communications equipment for use by The President or whatever High Ranking Officer should happen to be caught there in a National Emergency. Tower 19 was the VIP Unit. I had worked there for a couple of weeks when Admiral McCain, Commander of the Pacific Fleet had his mild stroke, most likely caused by smoking green Cuban cigars. I worked the night duty and only meet him a couple of times. I wasn't very impressed with him but then he wasn't trying to impress me, because he was to busy trying to impress the pretty young nurses and I heard that he even ended up arranging for some of them to fly back to Hawaii with him, I assume to follow up on his recovery treatment.
The tower elevator went up to the 21st floor but when the doors opened, there was only a boarded-up barricade and it was rumored that the brain-damaged President, John F. Kennedy, was being kept there, safely away from public view. The fact that his body had been brought there after the assassination and that on occasion, and I had witnessed it myself, a lone man could be seen walking on the rooftop of Bethesda, kept this suspicion alive within the community for several years and perhaps still does.
I had never bothered to go on the 20th floor of Bethesda even though at times the elevator door would open and one could see a large meeting Hall with a few scattered tables and dust-covered chairs that suggested the room had not been used for some time. Perhaps it had never developed into what the designers had originally intended or maybe the room had just lost its purpose as the world developed outside its doors. The Court Marshal was held there, in a room at the back corner of the Hall and as we waited outside the door, I could see more clearly that the Hall may, at one time, have been used for large important meetings. Perhaps Presidential News conferences had taken place here and I tried to recall some of the Presidents who might have actually entered the room. Perhaps Roosevelt with his wife Eleanor at the dedication of the hospital, or maybe Truman held some important conference here with flashbulb cameras going off around the room as they made some important announcement. Ike Eisenhower was President as I was going up and maybe he had come here as well, though he was Army and more than likely would have gone to Walter Reed Hospital. I knew that because he had died there just a few months before. Coincidentally, I happened to be taking care of his boyhood friend and the ex-Marine Corps Commandant, General Alexander Vandegrift at the time they announced his death on the television.
General Vandegrift was a feisty old man who at one time could demand as much respect as his Army counterpart and close friend General Eisenhower, They had been boyhood buddies and had decided their roles in history long before anyone even knew their names. When I met him however he was bedridden and blind and couldn't even get someone to boil him a three-minute egg in the morning. He had refused to eat for several mornings because none of the Corpsman on Tower Ten could fix his eggs and toast the way he liked them. My friend Mary, who was working at Tower Ten, knew that I had done previous work with geriatric patients in civilian life, and so she came to ask me if I would give it a try.
"Good Morning Sir! I said as I entered his room, "How are we doing this morning?"
"I don't know about you, but I am damn hungry!" he barked.
"And how could I solve that for you Sir!"
"You can fix me two, three-minute, hard boiled eggs. Not two and a half minutes or three and a half minutes, but THREE-minutes! Do you understand that?"
"Yes Sir, I think I can do that for you." I said politely.
"Well if you can, you will be the first one in this damn hospital that understands anything at all!" he snapped.
"And how would you like your toast, Sir?"
"TOASTED!" he said, almost jokingly, "not some piece of bread that is crusty on the outside and soft on the inside."
"No problem, Sir. I will be back in a minute… well make that three minutes, Sir." I said, jokingly as I left the room, though I doubted my words were even heard.
I prepared the food exactly as he had requested and returned to his room with the tray about ten minutes later.
"I thought you said three minutes!" he barked as I entered the room. "A man could die of starvation around here."
"Sorry, Sir. It took me a bit longer than I thought."
"Now that smells like toast," he said, as I put the tray down in front of him.
"Would you like me to help you with eating, Sir?" I asked politely.
"NO! I don't want you to help me," he responded, "but since I can't see a damn thing I may need some assistance."
"No problem, Sir." I said, as I pulled a chair up to the bed.
"It's five minutes to Eight, Sir.
"Turn on the television, I want to listen to the, morning News." he requested, almost politely.
I did as he asked and began to feed him his breakfast. There were no complaints as he quietly chewed his food. When he was finished eating I asked if he wanted anything else.
"No, that will be all," he responded, contentedly.
"Then I will be leaving you now, Sir," I said, as I put the chair back in its place by the wall.
"And tomorrow? You will be here in the morning again?"
"If you like, Sir, I can be here."
"Yes, please do come again." he responded.
I did return for several more days, always preparing the same meal for him, which he ate while we watched the morning news. He didn't talk much but he did develop a better attitude towards everyone and that was worth the effort.
On the 28th of March 1969, I turned on the TV and heard just the end of a Special Report. "We repeat, President Ike Eisenhower died this morning at Walter Reed Hospital, stay tuned for the story on the Morning News."
Tears were coming down from the General's sightless eyes as I turned to feed him his breakfast, "Is something wrong, Sir?" I inquired, sympathetically.
"We never talked about this," he said, thoughtfully.
"Excuse me, Sir? Talked about what?"
"The ending, we never talked about how it would end."
"I am not following you, Sir." I said, as I handed him his toast.
He slowly lowered the toast to the table and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Ike and I talked about everything," he said slowly, "we grew up together, made plans for our lives, our careers together. We were good friends, but we never talked about dying."
For the next several minutes I sat and listened to the General tell his story. It was a Historical Event, witnessed by only me. The ending of an Era being broadcast on the television with live comments coming from one of President Eisenhower's closes friends, lying in a hospital bed just an arm's length away from my chair.
"Matthysse! Let's go!"
"What?" I responded, as my mind raced back from the past.
"Let's go, they are waiting for us in the courtroom!"
I couldn't recall ever seeing a court-martial hearing in any of the movies I'd seen and so I wasn't sure what to expect. It was nothing like a civilian courtroom; there was no elevated bench for the judge to sit at, no jury box, and no crowd of people trying to find a seat so they could hear the gory details of some hideous crime or learn the intimate secrets of someone's life as the prosecution emptied out its trashcan of incriminating evidence. It was just a long table and chairs in the middle of a drab windowless room.
Two Lieutenants and a Navy Commander sat behind the table and I noticed my two friends from ONI sitting at one end, staring down at their papers, appearing to be unaware of my entrance. I came to attention and saluted the Commander and was told to sit at the far end of the table with my lawyer. The Commander introduced himself and his team then called the meeting to order.
The first order of business was to read the charges against me and so he called on the ONI officers to present their case. The youngest one of course accepted the honor and began telling how they had followed us for some time and finally apprehended us. I listened to his story but some parts were hard to believe and I thought to myself that he most likely concocted much of his story from hearing our confessions. "…and as a result of our investigations we are filing these charges against Mr. Matthysse;
"1. Three counts of theft! We have seen videotapes from the supermarket showing Matthysse and his gang stealing record albums by putting them under cases of Soda drinks."
'This caught me off guard; of course, the cameras didn't lie and we suspected that they were on to us the last time we did it. What surprised me was his implying that I was somehow the leader of the group. It was Randy's idea and somehow it made sense, at least at the time. We always calculated the amount we were going to spend on food supplies. Usually, it came to about $100.00, which meant the store profited at least 20% of that and so, because we were military and our wages were low, we split the difference. Ten dollars worth of records for us and a $10.00 profit for the store.'
"2. Aiding and abetting a known deserter of the American Military!"
'Randy was a friend who was going through a difficult time in his life. Turning him in would not have helped him. It was something he needed to do on his own. If helping him out by buying food was what they meant then I guess I was guilty but what would I be guilty of if I didn't help him out?'
"3. Participation in and planning of Anti-American activities and protest!"
'I nearly jumped out of my seat on that one, Anti-War! Anti-Military! Anti-Government! Yes, guilty on all charges, but never was I Anti-American. If anything, we considered ourselves to be the true Americans because we represented the people and that is what America is all about. Expressing our displeasure with the government was a freedom that no one, including the government or the military, had a right to interfere with. Participation in the Washington Peace March, discussions in our home with those who wanted to take medicine to North Vietnam, or attending the preliminary discussions held at the University for the Roger Priest Treason trial, were not Un-American, even though it was strongly suggested that we not participate in these things. They were the Freedoms I thought I was protecting when I joined the military.'
"4. Ten counts of use of illegal drugs!"
'The number was actually about 100 times that but they were so shocked with Mary's admission of 10 times that I didn't want to cause them to go into heart failure by telling them that it was more. Yes, I was guilty but then so was half the staff of the hospital and hundreds of thousands of other Americans around the country.'
"5. And ten counts of sales of illegal drugs!"
'Again, the number was actually much higher than that but we never actively sold our stuff. Because of the rapid demand, there was a lot of bad stuff being sold and people came to us because we were trustworthy.'
"And because of the severity of these charges, we are recommending to the court that the maximum penalty of 20 years imprisonment be imposed with subsequent Dishonorable Discharge from the Military and no military benefits!"
"What!" I exclaimed, in disbelief, startling everyone at the table.
"Quiet please!" the Commander responded, "You will get your turn in a minute."
"Tell me he's kidding," I whispered to my lawyer.
"I wish I could, but I told you from the beginning you were in trouble."
The Commander thanked the prosecution for their work and then turned to me. "And Mr. Matthysse, how do you answer to these charges?"
"Not Guilty, Sir!"
"I see you have counsel with you. Do you want to speak for yourself or do you wish your counsel speak for you?" the Commander asked.
"I am sorry, Sir. Yes, he will speak for me." I answered, embarrassed by my foolhardy response.
My lawyer stood and acknowledged the facts but then went into detail about how the evidence they obtain would not hold up in a civilian court and how the picture they painted of me was not at all what others saw in my daily work. He presented excerpts from some of the letters and ended by saying that while there were some laws broken he did not feel that the punishment should be severe.
The Commander thanked him and then asks that we leave the room while he discussed the case with the two Lieutenants. As we waited outside I felt numb. I knew that there were many guys in the military who didn't always follow the rules and some had even done things that were quite serious, but I never knew anyone until today that ever really got court marshaled. 'Was I really that bad?'
"If someone wanted to get some Grass, how would they do it?" my lawyer asks, from out of the blue.
"What?" I responded, not really sure I had heard the question right.
"If I wanted to try some Grass, could you get me some today?"
"Well, I am not sure about today, you would have to be checked out first," I answered, "but I'm not so sure I want to do any more dealing, Sir."
"Oh, I wasn't actually interested in you getting it, just wondering if it could be done," he responded.
All of a sudden I felt like I had been set up the whole time and that, even though he was my defense lawyer, he was still working for the military, trying to piece together the extent of the drug problem at Bethesda.
"It could be done, Sir," I assured him, "as much of whatever you wanted, delivered to your doorstep in a pizza delivery box."
CONTINUE TO CHAPTER SEVEN