National Defense
Sunday’s successful conclusion of the hostage situation off the coast of Somalia, where pirates were holding Captain Richard Philips, captain of an American freighter, is not to be dismissed. The intrepidity of the US Navy Seals who made the on-site decision to act, shooting three pirates on a moving boat from a moving ship —at night!—with one bullet for each is astounding. But even as we reflect on this success, we hear that pirates are attacking yet more vessels. Certainly it doesn’t help that for every success operation against the pirates, there are a half-dozen losses, including the payment of ransoms. Business is very good for the scum of the high seas.
So I have to wonder why the ships of the US Navy and our allies—12 ships in all—are being spread out over millions of square miles. Certainly, rooting the pirates out of their safe havens in Somalia is not an option. They blend into the populace; many of them are teenagers. You’d have to have a scorched earth policy.
But why not take a lesson from history and do what the great navies of the 18th and 19th century did? Instead of protecting the water and racing to the aid of lone ships, why don’t the cooperating navies form up convoys of ships in the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea and the western Indian Ocean and protect the convoys. Then, for good measure, assign US Marine detachments to US-flagged vessels and encourage non-US vessels to hire private soldiers to protect the ships from boarding.
I can’t be the only person to think of this. But I haven’t see anyone explain why they don’t do this.
As for the baloney about where to try the pirates, as if they’re going to bring them here to the US for trial in American courts, let’s not forget how we used to deal with them: efficiently and effectively in military courts on the warships that caught them.
Photo credit: Flickr.com user Earl - What I Saw 2.0. Used under a Creative Commons license
It’s one thing to second-guess the sitting US president from the campaign stump as a candidate—or as an opinionated blogger—but it’s quite another thing to sit at the president’s desk, know what he knows, and make decisions that affect the lives of hundreds of millions, if not billions, of people. I think Barack Obama is learning that lesson. Obama is now saying that he may have to back off from some campaign promises, including his vow to shut down the military prison at Guantanamo Bay where terrorists and other ne’er-do-wells are held.
He also acknowledged that his campaign pledge to close the prison at Guantanamo Bay will be more of a challenge than anticipated.
Obama said that while some evidence against terrorism suspects may be tainted by the tactics used to obtain it, that doesn’t change the fact they are “people who are intent on blowing us up.”
Looks like someone got his presidential national security briefing. Obama now knows what Bush knows, which is a heck of a lot more than the masses of people who have been second-guessing Bush for the last eight years. Obama has had a big heaping helping of reality, which we can hope he will assimilate and respond to responsibly. If not, we’re in for a very rough four years.
Update: And don’t let the latest news headlines fool you. Read the rumors they’re reporting and what you’ll see is that Obama is supposed to be signing an executive order the first week or day in office to begin the process of closing. Which means that someday the prisons will close. Which means that nothing has changed except a symbolic act designed to appease his liberal base.
Just a musing here: I’ve noticed that as Obama has assembled his foreign policy/defense team, the people who will be prosecuting the War on Terror look a lot like the people who were Bush’s team to prosecute the War. And while there have been some notable—even important—changes of direction, in the main much of the campaign rhetoric now seems muted.
Is it because that was just red meat for the campaign? Are they keeping their powder dry until after the inauguration? Or maybe—and this is just pure speculation—after he was elected Obama was given access to all the information Bush has had and now that he knows what Bush knows Obama recognizes that Bush has been doing what has to be done. In all likelihood there is much more to the overall National Security and terrorism picture than any of the bloggers and pundits and journalists and even individual Beltway insiders know.
If this were true, it would be some small comfort to know Obama recognizes this.
But it is likely that this idle speculation is completely off-base and an attempt by my subconscious to formulate a reality in which Obama is not going to be as bad a president as I’m afraid he will be.
The late Father Eugene Morin grew up in Quincy, Mass., but was serving as a priest at Our Lady of Peace Cathedral on December 7, 1941 and shared his recollection of the “day that shall live in infamy” in a letter he wrote in 1978. Fr. Morin died in 1986.
The letter begins by recounting the facts of the day, the toll of the dead and the ships sunk, and how the US responded to the sneak attack. But then he gives his own personal account, how he celebrated the early Mass that day and how another Mass was interrupted by the sounds and then the news. How they waited for news of what was happening in those days before the Internet and 24-hours TV news. How the priests were called to the makeshift hospitals set up in a Catholic high school and a convent school to provide Extreme Unction to the injured and dying.
One thing I must say and I say this with a great deal of admiration for our young servicemen. Every one died a hero’s death. Strange as it may seem when death approaches we always think of those we love most. Those perhaps we may in our youth and forgetfulness have neglected. The thoughts and memories of all the young men I prepared for death, I am proud to say were about their dear parents. They wanted them to know how much they loved them and what they meant to them while they were growing up but could not express in words due to shyness the love, kindness and understanding they had in their young hearts.
In all my priestly life I have never heard such sincere, thoughtful and prayerful confessions. All of those I attended during the thirty-four hours I worked at Sacred Hearts Convent School went to meet their heavenly Creator well prepared to merit an eternal reward. It is an act of heroic sacrifice to give one’s life for one’s country. During my stay at this temporary hospital I took care of more than 500 young men. Many of them I gently closed their eyes in death, while some I had to leave, leaving this duty to others.
When other priests took their places in the hospital, they returned to the cathedral and, after a short rest, spent day and night hearing confessions of the people who flocked to the church for solace in an uncertain time, especially the servicemen preparing to face their new enemy. Remember, most of these people had no idea if a Japanese invasion of the islands was imminent.
He also recalls that under martial law, gatherings of more than 10 people were not allowed and so there very few public Masses, even on the feast of the Immaculate Conception. He also tells that tale of having dinner with Admiral Chester Nimitz and Bishop James Sweeney when the admiral received the call that the Battle for Midway had begun. While swearing them to secrecy, he asked the bishop to call all rectories and convents and ask for special prayers, without saying what the prayers were for. Fr. Morin ends with another tale of heroism:
Regarding the USS Arizona I have mentioned it on the first page of this article. However, I would like to mention that the Chaplain, Father Schmidt, was a very dear friend of mine. He and I had dinner together the night before the attack. To be exact it was December 6th, 1941.
Father Schmidt was vesting for Mass in one of the mess rooms when the attack began. As the ship began to sink after so many direct hits he helped many of the young men to escape through the port holes of the ship but when it came his turn to leave he told other young men to go ahead of him. He was not able to escape and thus he lies with the other young men who were trapped in the ship when it sank.
May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Photo credit: Public domain.
A soldier from the next town over in Beverly, Mass., died in battle in Afghanistan last week and his funeral was celebrated on Friday. The homily from Spc. Stephen Fortunato’s funeral Mass by Father David Barnes, pastor of St. Mary Star of the Sea parish, is beautiful and moving.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
At the very founding of this Nation, our forefathers recognized and acknowledged what was — in their words — self-evident. Namely, that every human life is sacred. And, that these inalienable rights — of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness — are given not by an act of law or by man made decree, but rather are given as a gift from the Creator. The Founders declared that it is the role of government to secure and protect these inalienable and self-evident rights. Today — at home and abroad — the sacredness of human life is everywhere under attack. Today, what was self-evident to those who came before us is often obscured by ideology, by a culture of death and by evil.
Today we mourn the death of Stephen Fortunato. Stephen was a soldier. The soldier does not primarily exist to take human life, but to protect human life. What inspired Stephen to enlist in the Army was when he saw the inalienable rights of his fellow Americans threatened in the terrorist attacks of September 11th. In order to defend and to protect the life, liberty and happiness of others, Stephen voluntarily surrendered his own freedoms. He gave up the right to be with his own family and friends so that others could enjoy that right. He gave up the warmth of home and familiarity, so that others could enjoy such things. He gave up the right to come and go as he pleased so that others could enjoy that right. And last week, on a roadside in Afghanistan, he made the supreme sacrifice and surrendered his own right to life in order to secure and to protect the lives of his countrymen. Our Lord tells us that there is no greater love than to lay down one’s own life for a friend.
On an October morning in 1983, it was actually October 2nd — the Feast of the Guardian Angels — a baby boy was carried by his family into this church and he was baptized. In that moment, Stephen Fortunato was given the promise of immortality; the promise of eternal life. From that moment on, he belonged to Christ. Christ, the Good Shepherd, was forever at the side of Stephen.
Today, we — who live half a world away — cannot help but wonder what the last moments of Stephen’s life were like. Perhaps you wish that you could have been there with him as he breathed his last; with him to comfort and console him; with him to express your love and affection; with him to say goodbye. But this was not possible. In this way, Stephen’s sacrifice is also your sacrifice. You have given a husband, a son, a brother, a grandson, a friend to a grateful nation. That nation and its citizens owe you and Stephen a debt of gratitude. Stephen was rightly outraged when others attempted to steal the God given rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness from his countrymen. Stephen’s response to that outrage was to sacrifice his own rights to protect and defend the rights of others. All of us who are gathered here today might well learn from his example. Imagine how much our nation would benefit if there were more persons who — like Stephen — were dedicated to protecting the inalienable rights of others — the right to life, to liberty and to the pursuit of happiness.
Although you are undoubtedly consoled by the military honors that Stephen deservedly receives today, our gathering here in this church reminds us that when the volleys have all been fired and the sound of the bugle has faded, there is something that lasts forever — something that remains.
When Stephen entered into the valley of the shadow of death on a roadside in a faraway land, he was not alone. You — his family — made sure of that. You gave him something that lasts forever. When you carried him into this church 25 years ago, you introduced Stephen to the Good Shepherd. And Christ has never left the side of Stephen. “Even though I should walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. With thy rod and thy staff, thou givest me comfort.” Christ, the Good Shepherd, has led the way through the valley of death and in his resurrection, he has conquered man’s greatest enemy — death itself. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, went ahead of Stephen to prepare a place for him in the Father’s house. When Stephen closed his eyes to this world, Christ was beside him. And it is our Christian hope that when Stephen opened his eyes again, the Good Shepherd welcomed him to life eternal.
On an October morning 25 years ago, you carried your son into this church, and entrusted him to Christ the Good Shepherd. You trusted that Christ, the Good Shepherd would stay forever at his side and guide him beside restful waters and would refresh his soul. This morning, your family, your community, your parish, your country, carries your son again into this church. We ask God to have mercy on the soul of Stephen and to purify him. We give thanks to Almighty God for Stephen’s life and for his devoted and complete service. We also ask God to give to each one of us a deep and abiding friendship with Jesus Christ — for he is the way to the Father’s House. And apart him we can do nothing.
Stephen began his journey to eternal life here in this church — dedicated to Mary, Star of the Sea. Today marks the end of Stephen’s mission; of his journey. May Mary, Star of the Sea, now guide him from the troubled waters of Earth to the safe harbors of heaven. May Christ, the Good Shepherd, now open to Stephen the doors of the Father’s House, and may Stephen discover within its halls what he so willingly and valiantly sacrificed for others — true life, true liberty and everlasting happiness. Amen.
Photo credit: Flickr.com user underbunny. Used under a Creative Commons license.
