Category Archives: Poetry

Poetry, Security

Black Snowflakes: “Where was your wedding? When? Any airstrikes?”

Leave a comment

A first book of poetry by U.S. Army veteran Ryan Stoval is titled “Black Snowflakes Smothering a Torch: How to Talk to Your Veteran – A Primer”.

In order to facilitate dialogue, between those who have experienced the crushing arms of war and those who have not, at its foundation Black Snowflakes presupposes that many issues veterans face when reintegrating originate not from war trauma but from the hypocrisies inherent to American civilian culture itself.

Source: https://ryanstovall.com/

It’s a quick read and I’ve found many pithy and moving pieces about a struggle to make sense of life-changing moments when forced into sharp contrast. The pages are often processing polarity or managing binary/dichotomous survival decisions, which should resonate deeply with anyone who thinks deeply about the grey scales of risk.

If nothing else, it’s a philosophical journey through some of the pain and remorse of being forced into high-stakes high-speed context switching.

For example I allowed myself time to pause to think about a “Cheerios” reference in a poem titled “American Weddings”, which only amplified the clarion call that comes next through his vision.

Were was your wedding? When? Any airstrikes?

That’s a great example to me of how directly and quickly he will deliver contrast, repaint a picture.

Perhaps an even better example of such polarity and switching is a piece called “But By The Grace of Poor Weapons Maintenance”.

It opens with a narrative like “I hesitate, thinking here is surely one of ours” and then, in “an instant” flips the narrative to…

Well, you can probably guess the “horrified” inverse when the inevitable battlefield identity switch is flipped into someone NOT being “one of ours”.

Related:

Soldatenlieder Der Einsame Posten of 1865, classic poem with a battlefield identity switch.

Also, the anti-war poetry of War Pigs

SPIN: For some reason in “War Pigs,” it always bothered me that you rhymed “generals in their masses” with “just like witches at black masses.” Why use “masses” twice? Did you try to think of a different word?

Butler: I just couldn’t think of anything else to rhyme with it. And a lot of the old Victorian poets used to do stuff like that — rhyming the same word together. It didn’t really bother me. It wasn’t a lesson in poetry or anything.

History, Poetry, Sailing

Etymology of “Cockpit”

Leave a comment

Around the 17th century (1600s) an experienced seaman was rated as “midshipman” because of the location of his duty, or his compartment below deck — it was the middle of the ship or midship for short.

Source: University of Wisconsin, Madison. Click to enlarge and find the midships label.

In the 18th century the title of midshipman transitioned to anyone who was a candidate for a commission on a ship.

From there the term midshipman came to mean an apprentice officer on a ship, someone who aspired for promotion.

That aspirational role seems to be where an old English term from the 17th century comes into play. An apprentice or servant was called a cocc (“one who strutted like a cock”)

The middle of the ship where an aspirational officer apprentice would roam like a proud chicken of the sea… thus probably generated the term “cockpit”.

The word “pit” likely referenced the midship again, where work was done or maybe also because the decks of a ship were lower versus high stern and bow.

The 1862 Man-o-War “Midshipman’s Diary: Cockpit Journal” makes this fairly plain to see.

Source: Archive.org

Today midshipman is still a term used to describe the entry level role for someone who wants to become commissioned as a naval officer. However, now it means an academy on land instead of constrained into the middle of a ship at sea.

Cockpit meanwhile somehow elevated way beyond the aspiring midshipman into the place on a vessel for command and control, such as the nose of an airplane or aft area of a sailboat.

One other thought on this topic is that chickens had a superstitious meaning at sea. “Pig on the knee, safety at sea. A cock on the right, never lose a fight” was one saying about where to put sailor tattoos. Another was that the cock tattoo on a right foot would prevent drowning.

It’s hard to find evidence for why such superstitions evolved. Some say it was because wooden crates often floated ashore after a shipwreck with chickens surviving despite them being unable to fly or swim. Some might say chickens were a source of food to ensure human survival, meaning they represented good luck after a wreck.

In any case I doubt midships with crates of chickens is where cockpit comes from. Perky ostentatious midshipmen seems the more likely story, given British sea humor and the fact that a term like “pigpen” was never used.

Poetry

Der Einsame Posten

Leave a comment

From “In der Cantin. Soldatenlieder und Geschichten“,
by Anton von Baron Klesheim, 1865



Es steht a Soldat auf
Sein Posten in der Nacht
Der Mond hat so freundli
Auf der Grd herunter gelacht

Die Sternd’ln hab’n glanzt aus
Der himmel blaun zern
Als wann’s lauter geschliffen
Brillantanstan waren

Ka Bladl hat gerauscht bei
Den nachtlich’n Wind
Es war da so still, wie
Wa’s felt’n wo find’t

Und so steht der Posten
Da, einfam allen
Ganz knapp an an Baun
Bon an Freithof, an klan

Er siecht da die Graber
Im Mondenscheingalanz
Auf jeden klan sug’l
A Kreuz oder an Kranz

Da denkt er, de unterliegen
Da in der braun Erd
Haben Rueh je und Frieden
Und das is was werth

Und wia is das schon auf
Den Freithof den klan
Das de da drinn liegen, bei
Die Fhrigen fan

Wo wer denn wohl ich
A mal liegen in der Nuah?
Wer drudt denn wohl mir
Meine Augen amal zua?

Wer wird denn wohl mir, der
I gar Niemand hab,
A Kranzl hinlegan auf
Das einfame Grab

Die Antwort — bliebt aus
Denn es tummt a Soldat
Under der sagt nir weiter, als:
“Abgeloft, Kamerad!”