Aposticae Curae - Saepius Officio

 

Do you remember Leo XIII's 1890s Bull Apostolicae Curae, proclaiming Anglican Orders "null and void" due to defective form and intent? Sure you do, but you may have forgotten the unofficial reply of the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, Saepius Officio, written in Latin. (sorry, can't find text online)

Regardless of the merits of Temple and Maclagan's argument, and I think it's strong in its context, can you imagine such a document being written today by the COE's hierarchs? Of course you can't, it's unthinkable. All this to say nothing of the current wickedness enthroned in Rome. Behold, gentlemen and women, devolution. We just ain't so smart as what we used to be. Perhaps getting rid of the DOE will help.

The tall one front row

In happier news, Sgt. LSP called yesterday to announce 1. He's reenlisting and wants to fill out a Drill packet  2. Engaged 3. Fiance getting baptized 4. Is now a Knight of Columbus who, curiously, thinks some Anglican Orders valid. What can we say?

Laus Tibi Domine,

LSP+

Good Work - Soldier

 

Boy on Left

It's been some 5 years since my eldest joined up and he's done well, made Sergeant, turned his life around, no small thing. But you know, when I told all three of you readers that he'd enlisted one Anon commented, probably from England or Canada, I didn't check, words to this effect, "You're proud now, idiot Nazi, but you can congratulate yourself when he comes home with his legs blown off."

Wow, what a cruel thing to say to a Father who's son's signed up to serve his country and potentially put his life on the line  for our defense. OK, it's the internet and of course I didn't reply, but it still hurts, and here's the thing.

Having a goodly pride in your country and people and stepping up to the plate to defend that is a virtue, and I'll defend this virtue all day long, as would my eldest and many others like him. We're patriots. Of course such a thing is nonsense and worse than nonsense to the nihilist asset-strippers and their shill dupes who've been wrecking our country for decades to fill their own already deep pockets. But question.

Who, beloved NWO Illuminati Trans WEF Corporatist Bolshevik BIS Jeckyll Island Overlords, will you get to oversee your total takeover of everyone apart from yourselves? The Army? Mindful of this, you may have noticed the UK pretty much abolished its once mighty Army, Navy and Air Force in favor of lots and lots of police and cameras. 

Oops, right at the point that we're fixing, baying, gusting, shouting to fight industrial scale war with Russia and China. Against evil Putler and lesser Satan Xi. Whoa, shurely shome mishtake. (big drinks all 'round, another G&T? Carry on, ahem, Ed.) Perhaps a 45-47 tenure can wrest us away from the neocon death grip. Or perhaps they'll keep on coming on and trust the loyalty of the men with the guns to further the Rainbow Project. Good luck with that, I guess we'll see.

Don't Mess With Texas

In the meanwhile, good work, kid. Apparently the little guy in the photo is Nepalese and a "good soldier."  Well there's most certainly precedent for that. 

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Back In The Hood

 

That'd be Fort Hood, of course, for my eldest's official promotion to Sergeant. It'd been a while since I visited the Great Place so first things first, go to the Visitor Center and get a pass, it's not hard, then check into one of the post's hotels. I chose the Holiday Inn Express, just around the corner from the main gate, and lo and behold, it was full of soldiers. It's also cheap, clean, and friendly, so there you have it.

Next step, set up by the pool of this former transit barracks (?) and enjoy a glass of wine while waiting for the acting Sergeant to arrive, and then go out for dinner and drinks. Easy. Or not. I'd foolishly thought there'd be a congenial NCO Club or some kind of restaurant open in the evening  on post where I could take the kid out for a pre-promotion ceremony celebration. But no, there wasn't. So we got an Uber to something called the Twisted Kilt, which is a kind of sports bar where the waitresses wear kilts and Killeen's ne'er do wells look for fights.

Still, it was fun, in a sports bar kilt kinda way and we made it back to the Hood safe and sound. Word to the wise, if you're going out for a drink or two, get an Uber as opposed to going through the Bernie Beck main gate in your truck and getting a DUI. This happens a lot, curiously.

Next morning, pull on a suit, I went two button, and drive over to Brigade for the promotion ceremony. It wasn't desperately formal but it was moving, at least for me. What happens is this: 

After a brief introduction to Company Command, "Fine body of men you have here, Sarn't," line up before the troops with the two men about to be promoted. Listen to valedictory acclamation from assorted leadership and then, when the time is right, face your son, take his corporal's hat off, replace it with one adorned with sergeant's chevrons and then do the same thing for chest rank. Take the old rank off, put the new rank on, and thump it in. 

For Goodness Sake, LSP, Stand Up Straight

As I understand it, the chest rank replacement used to be a bit of an ordeal because of actual, literal, metal pins. These days it's all about velcro, but you can still put the thing on with purpose. That done, stand aside before falling out. So there you have it.

Later that evening, take the newly pinned NCO out to Tanks because there's nowhere to eat and drink, apparently, on a Wednesday evening at the Great Place, huh. Stand outside Tanks and ask yourself, "What have we gotten ourselves into?" Damning the torpedoes you stride through the dark portal of this dive bar only to discover you can smoke there, great result, and that it's significantly better than the nasty Twisted Kilt. Not unlike Detroit in the mid/late '90s.

Tanks - I Recommend It

Pleased by this, we shot a few games of pool, which I embarrassingly won, enjoyed a few G&Ts and then headed back to Hood via Uber. All good, until disaster struck at the gate, "Do you have any firearms in your vehicle," asked security, sensibly, "Yes, a pistol," replied the driver, honestly. Hey, if you were driving Uber in Killeen you'd have one too. Whatever, he got detained, while the Sergeant and I walked back to the hotel through the long grass of Hood's fields. Well done, mission accomplished, and what can I say?

First: It's no small thing to take part in your son's promotion. Well done, boy. Second: I was impressed by the demeanor of the troops and command at B Company 57 ESB. Intelligent, well they are techs..., respectful, switched on and full of youthful vigor, patriots to boot. Third: This is very, very different than UKLF as I knew it, back in the mists of time.

Ahem, where's the starch, why is there not an hobnailed boot in sight? Why does a Platoon Sergeant have his hands in his pockets? Are there no rifles with shiny bayonets to Pre...Sent... Arms! Apparently not, and I brought this up with the boy over pool at Tanks. "Dad," he said, I know what you mean," he drilled with the Calgary Highlanders as a Cadet, "But, when this thing gets moving it's like an unstoppable machine." Hey now, I can believe it.

Huh, This Is Still Allowed

Back at the Compound now and all is well. Good work, son, proud of you.

Semper,

LSP

Recumbent Soldiery

 

The erstwhile Cadet passed NCO School yesterday and spun down I35 from Ft. Hood to visit, tell war stories and celebrate his victory. And celebrate we did, well done boy, you came out in the top 30% of the class of which, curiously, around 30% failed, some 100 people.

gull wing

"Why did they fail?" I asked, "Because they were fat and stupid." It's an issue, apparently. Regardless, we had fun and the dog had fun too, discovering a play towel and a plastic Walmart play bin. What fun. But what goes up must come down and the soldier successfully lay recumbent for much of today. 

Unh Hunh

Not me, off to a men's breakfast at Mission #2 by the lake this morning, what great guys, then Walmart, Tractor Supply Company, and afterwards installing a kindly donated toolbox on the rig in the heat of the blazing sun. 

I tell you, sweat was splashing down upon the bed of the truck like rain on the Sahara as I wrangled with the aluminium thing. Such is the coming Ice Age, sorry, Climate Change, that utterly settled science. Don't say Covid and experimental, mandated mRNA jabs.

typical boots on the ground scene

Regardless, there you have it. Good work on the NCO deal, kid.

Arduus Ad Solem,

LSP