Fuck you, Samurai

The exhibit at the airport in Columbia escaped you all those years when you and Mom picked Dad up from business trips when you were a kid. But one day, he pointed it out to you and told you that the Doolittle Raiders actually trained at Columbia’s airport. You didn’t think too much of it until you realized later on what exactly that meant to a nation reeling from five months of fear. 

78 years ago, April 1942. America’s fleet lay devastated at anchor at Pearl Harbor with only a few carriers and a handful of escorts seaworthy. Japan was rampant in the Pacific, consolidating power and taking Singapore, the Dutch East Indies, the Philippines, Guam, virtually everywhere North of Australia and West of Midway. With access to the raw materials they needed in the Dutch East Indies they had all they needed to reinforce their fleet and take Hawaii. Who knew what else. Stalin’s USSR wasn’t fighting them, so their only other front was in China, and the US chose to focus on Germany first, leaving the US Pacific Fleet to fend for themselves. Full wartime production was still a long way off, and no one knew how industrious a fully mobilized America could be yet. But in order to even have one, they had to hold serve in the Pacific with what was left, or else they could be paralyzed.

The Japanese for their part hadn’t lost a major battle in a thousand years; their victories against the world’s largest nation, China, had come easily; and the Americans couldn’t protect anything from the Imperial fleet. The very idea of Tokyo being bombed was as alien to them as an attack on the World Trade Center in August 2001.  

All eyes were moving towards Australia as the Japanese set their sights on it when two of America’s few carriers and what escorts could be spared were sent northwest instead. Sixteen Army B-25s put on the Hornet with Enterprise providing escort took off at an unthinkable distance on a single raid, unable to return. 

Thousands of men, half the remaining fleet desperately needed at the upcoming Battle of Coral Sea turned north in a single massive, coordinated raid that would accomplish practically nothing tangible in the grand scheme of the war other than a monumental “Fuck You!” to the great Samurai mindset of Imperial Japan. 

Funny, you’d discussed with the Greek, one of your best friends who’s wrapping up 26 years in the USAF that raid once and gotten into a disagreement about it. Waste of manpower, materiel, etc to accomplish little practical. Well, he was right about that and an authority on such issues. But he also sees it in terms of being a part of a world-dominating military that hasn’t been truly challenged in over 30 years. Those men in 1942 were desperate. A spirited debate; both of you stuck to your points, agreed to disagree and got another beer.

Considering the losses at Coral Sea while Enterprise and Hornet were returning from their mission, he did have a point…but given all that had been going wrong for America for five months… there could be fewer moments as satisfying that pulling the lever on a B-25 that day. You motherfuckers think you’re invincible? Duck, Hirohito. 

Months. In a history book they don’t seem long. The months the world is spending in quarantine now feel like they’re taking forever, with no end in sight. Idiot experts are forecasting models saying we’ll be in the clear sometime between May 1 and 2022. Gives you a new appreciation for the months that the Americans had to sit back and fume at being unable to fight back against a rampant Japan. The world’s most industrious and impatient people found a way to bitchslap a dominant nation who had never truly known defeat… just to fucking do it.

Fills your heart with spiritual fists just thinking about it. 

The fates of the pilots are a mixture of tragedy and adventure; some captured and tortured by the Japanese, others funneled through the warzones in China through diplomatic minefields negotiated between the Soviets and Iranians to get them home. Heroes all.  

Sometimes it seems like you set your mind to something and it just never happens. Even if you do what you know you ought to, the ball never seems to roll. The weight never seems to drop. The comprehension never seems to clear. Patience is a virtue, but an elusive one. You know what? Make up your mind to accomplish, and once you have… give your obstacle a “Fuck you!” just because you CAN. 

Walking an hour every day was derailed. Feet blistering. That’s fine. Stay in a day so they can be ready to go. Bitch, your overweight ass is RUNNING tomorrow for ten minutes. Collapse if you got to eight minutes in, but as soon as you’re good to go, you’ve got two more minutes. Is that wise? A good investment of your time and energy considering the exercise plan you’re putting together? Nope. But fuck it. You can, you will, and when you do and go back to the plan the next day, you won’t feel so bad for how far you’ve fallen since the days of being All-Region Cross Country.

Self-Discipline is a huge weakness you have. Accept it, and find a way to overcome it. Walking an hour every other day alternating with rowing won’t be fast enough to help you accomplish what you want to accomplish and you WILL become discouraged. Discipline is far more important than Motivation in the Long Run. Motivation is an emotion, and thus fleeting. Discipline isn’t. You’re good at what matters far less… so you have to make do.

It’s okay to get discouraged. When you do, remind yourself that you CAN run. It’s just really not very smart. The fact you CAN do something in the back of your mind gives you strength. A temporary boost of motivation when Discipline begins to unravel. Because it will.

Just a month later in the Battle of the Coral Sea, the American fleet had only two carriers, lost the Lexington and damage to Yorktown was so severe she barely made it back. Port Moresby was saved and Australia could finally breathe a sigh of relief. As tactical a defeat as could be and still be a strategic victory.

Which means you’re going to hurt yourself in your stunt tomorrow. Probably muscle failure. Fall, skin your knee. You know what came after Coral Sea though. And you know what’s eventually going to happen if your enthusiasm manages to thinly cover the gaps left by your lack of self-discipline. You need this. You’re sick of living this way. Not just with your health, but that feeling of disempowerment when you wake up at 10am and still don’t need to do anything. 

Seriously, do you know who you fucking are? What you can do if you put your mind to it? When you have the drive and energy you did at 25 but combine that with the Wisdom of having God in your life to chase that bastard of arrogance off when he dares rear his head? 

No. You don’t.

Yet. 

Whatever. Missed it by a day. Meh, this year is the 350th Anniversary of the founding of the Holy City in 1670 and immeasurable celebrations of history are going to have to wait a year. Far worse things have happened. You are blessed beyond measure. You have no right to keep those blessings to yourself. Every minute you don’t have the means to try to make the world a better place, you fail yourself. 

That’s nothing to feel bad about. It’s something to do something about. Let God guide you… but occasionally take the opportunity to go somewhere crazy on your own and ask Him to come with you. Why? You don’t know. It’s who you are. Something tells you He understands, and maybe there will be a learning experience down the road that changes your mind. If so, bring it. Last thing He wants you or anyone else to be is a robot. 

You’re hurting right now. It’s okay to admit it. You need this. Give eternal thanks you can do it, and if you fail, find something else to give eternal thanks for.

Now go make an idiot out of yourself on the rowing machine.