I confess to bafflement

The most recent horrific "scandals" in Washington seem to be:

• an investigation by the IRS to ascertain whether organizations that claimed tax-exempt status were acting in violation of that status by actively engaging in political action


• several investigations by the DOJ to determine (a) who had criminally leaked classified material, violating the oath they took in order to gain access to it and severely damaging national security in the process and (b) whether the journalists who solicited those crimes had done so in contravention of the laws on espionage

These are in addition to the ongoing hearings into the events in Benghazi, despite a thoroughgoing review that resulted in a report harshly critical of the State Department, which led to the resignations of four senior DOS persons. But no hearings, strangely, on more than a dozen attacks on embassies in recent prior years, in which over 100 people were killed.

The politicos I don't expect reason or balance from. Hypocrisy and demagoguery have replaced honesty and responsibility in the opposition--that I have come to accept. What I find disturbing is that the press seems to be more interested in smearing mud and crying foul than at looking at the facts. That the same media swallowed, hook, line, and sinker, every baited lie that they were to9ld by the previous administration for year after year makes me wonder what happened to the honest, idealistic, truth-seeking journalists I recall being lionised when I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s. There seem to be precious few of them around these days, as far as I can tell.

Quickly chalking up another one

With a machine gun to Cambrai by George Coppard (9): I finished this short volume almsot immediately after my last post. It's an easy read, and a quick one; I was delayed in completing it mostly by the fact that GRRM had intervened and was getting my reading time at home, leaving Coppard to be read during breaks at work. Work gets busier, I take fewer breaks, finishing drags on.

All of that waffle aside, this is a ripping wee book. It's the first-hand account of a British soldier in World War One, from his enlistment until his demobilization. He was an Other Rank--mostly a private, eventually rising to the dizzying rank of corporal :-) --and he brings a different perspective to that of some of the more famous officers' memoirs. He was also a specialist, trained as a machinegunner in an infantry unit then transferred to the new Machine Gun Corps, which collected MG teams into a single body, then detached them as small elements to support infantry units (as well as providing support to the cavalry, motorcycle and armoured car units, and eventually provided MG crews to the newfangled "tanks"). Coppard is a very observant raconteur, and he speaks feelingly of the emotions he and other soldiers encountered, but he also displays the stoicism and good humour with which the British soldier generally meets his fate whether good or ill. He's a very lucid writer, and for all he doesn't engage in purple prose or amateur dramatics, he's readable and thoughtful, providing more than just a bare recounting of places and dates. If you come across the book and have never read anything about the Great War, I would recommend it as a well-written introduction. If you've read a lot about the World War, but would like to get a glimpse of the trench-eye view, I would recommend it again.

One thing that struck me, having watched not too long ago the very popular Downtown Abbey series, was what Coppard remarked as the most horrible experience he endured. He suffered through uncountable bombardments, endured cold days and nights, wet or even flooded trenches, foul rations, incessant lice, and other privations that would make most of us curl up and cry for mummy. But what he remarks on being the most unpleasant and hateful period of his service was a period he spent in a clean, dry, warm rear-area hospital. One of his mates accidentally shot him in the foot with a revolver as they were assembling for duty one morning. He was sent to a field dressing station and then to hospital. En route, he was marked down as being suspected SIW or self-inflicted wound. The hostility, the ostracism, the cold and brutal treatment he received as a suspected SIW hurt him more then the wound and caused him more distress than any physical suffering. Once the full account of the event was passed back through the reporting chain, the difference was night and day; he was warmly and kindly treated by everyone who had shunned him or supplied the barest of attention before. Anyone who saw DA can rest assured that the incident in which a relative of one of the characters is reported shot as a deserter was not far off. On the other hand, I always found the ease with which one of the other characters got himself wounded and sent home with no suspicion on the part of his comrades as to the nature of his injury... I still find that far too convenient a plot device.

Currently in progress:
A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin
General George Washington: A Military Life by Edward G. Lengel
Raiding on the Western Front by Anthony Saunders
Foch: Supreme Allied Commander in the Great War by Michael S. Neiberg
The Western Front: Ordinary Soldiers and the Defining Battles of World War I by Richard Holmes
Boer Commando by Denneys Reitz

In limbo somewhere
In the Skies of Nomonhan: Japan versus Russia, May - September 1939 by Dimitar Nedialkov
The Fort by Bernard Cornwell
Through a Howling Wilderness: Benedict Arnold's March to Quebec, 1775 by Thomas Desjardins
Knights of the Cross; or, Krzyzacy by Henryk Sienkiewicz
Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur Conan Doyle
The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling
Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling
Laxdaela Saga
Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha by Roddy Doyle
Shards of Empire by Susan Schwartz
The Lily Hand And Other Stories by Edith Pargeter
Understanding China by John Bryan Starr
The Williamite Wars in Ireland, 1688-1691 by John Childs
Theoretical Criminology by George B. Vold et al.
In the Name of the Father: Washington's Legacy, Slavery, and the Making of a Nation by Francois Furstenberg
Doom Castle by Neil Munro
My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk