A Day That Shall Live in Infamy

It’s 70 years ago today and, as I think of it, it makes me feel ancient.

No, not that I was around back then, obviously I wasn’t, but as I grew up it wasn’t some point in ancient history, which is how our children will see it. To put it into perspective, think back on who you were in 1984. Then think about how you thought about the outbreak of World War I. That, back then, was 70 years ago as well. I can’t recall being taught much about the lessons of the Guns of August back when I was a strapping teen, and I don’t imagine that our kids will be taught much about December 7, 1941 today.

Unless we teach them ourselves.

Because the lessons learned are timeless, so teach them we must.

Among the things we can learn was that this great nation of ours is a lot more resilient than most people think, and that includes myself in my darker moments.

We were attacked in an act of utmost perfidy, ambushed by an enemy who, although professing to worship honor, had none himself. We were hit hard, hit to the point where many wondered if we’d ever get up again from the initial blow, hit at a point in our history where our military was, compared to other nations already at war for two long years, barely in its infancy.

We look back with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight and see it as inevitable that we would prevail, but in fact there was nothing inevitable about it. Few at the time thought that the United States would be a force to be reckoned with for years after that if ever, but all of the pessimists were proven wrong. In one year, the United States was strong, getting ready to fight a war on not one but two fronts. In a mere two years, the tide had turned and in a relatively short two more years, the United States would be the strongest military force this world had ever seen.

What caused this? How did Admiral Yamamoto’s prophecy about the sleeping giant come true to such an extent?

Providence, to be sure, played a great part. Our carriers just so happened not to be at Pearl when the strike hit, and that was before anybody truly knew how vital, how transformative carriers would become to naval warfare. It wasn’t the first time that Providence had lent a helping hand either. There was nothing “inevitable” about a bunch of ragged colonialists defeating the strongest army on the planet in their fight for independence either.

But Providence can’t do Its work if Its tools aren’t up to the job, and throughout our history we have proven that we are up to any job that fate may throw at us.

The resilience, the determination, the “can do” spirit, the love of country, the willingness to sacrifice and our endless optimism and belief in ourselves and the righteousness of our cause, that has always made us unique as a nation. That is what that poo-poo’ed “American Exceptionalism” is all about, and we’re blessed to have it because without it we wouldn’t be here.

And we have it still, no matter what our internal enemies, socialists and “moderates” alike, try to tell us.

We have it, but only if we hold on to it and fight for it. It is not a given, it is earned. The good news is that it’s there for us if we bother to reach out for it.

The Americans of 1941 didn’t moan and cry that defeat was inevitable, that the fleet was crushed, that our enemies were too strong and on the offensive (and you have to keep in mind that December of 1941 was the high water mark of the Axis Powers) and that the best we could do was to compromise, to drag out the inevitable and hope for the best.

They rolled up their damn sleeves and decided that, come what may, it was time to kick some ass. That victory would be ours no matter what it took, no matter how long it took, and that anything short of total, crushing, unconditional victory was NOT an option. Like the Brits at the time of the Battle of Britain when all seemed lost, we shrugged it off and went to work, confident in our cause and our ultimate victory.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Some say that we don’t have that spirit anymore. I wonder at times myself. But then again I look at our generation’s youngsters who keep going back into the breach, believing as those grandparents and great-grandparents of theirs, that victory comes only to those who never give up, that this is a fight worth fighting because the alternative to victory is not worth living with.

Yes, we have grown a bit soft as a result of decades of affluence and indifference to our nation’s enemies march through our institutions, but even though this is our darkest hour, we still have what it takes to beat back the forces of darkness and prevail in the end. It’s been done before. Our nation has faced perils larger than ours, yet here we are.

The only way we can lose is if we give up the fight before the fight is over.

It is easy to give up, I know only too well because I, too, have found myself exasperated more times than I can count, but it would also be a great dishonor, an disgraceful show of utter disrespect to those who went before us if we do give up while we still have breath in us. Nothing we can do will guarantee victory, but doing nothing will guarantee defeat.

Nothing dishonorable in going down in the defense of a noble and worthy cause. History will not look down on those who died for that, but generations to come will scorn, justifiably so, those who threw away their sword while they could still wield it and bowed their necks to the enemy.

So the Hell with compromise, the Hell with hoping the alligator will eat you last. Full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes!

Before us lies victory, behind us nothing but eternal disgrace.

A great gift paid in blood was passed on to us.

Let us resolve, then, that it will NOT be taken away from us until our own blood has been drained from us.

We will never submit, we will be victorious, and we would make very poor slaves since we’d be dead before the shackles were put upon us.

We owe it to those who went before.

Thatisall.