THE VIEW FROM 75

Recently my chronological odometer turned past the 75 mark, but I like to think that my factory warranty remains valid.  (No, I do not know the expiration date, but checking insurance actuarials, presumably I’m good for another 13 years.  That’s better than my ancestral DNA would indicate, a median of 80 years.)

But I digress.

I was born in 1948, a fourth-generation native Oregonian (and I shall spare you my rant about the factual and semantic problems inherent to the misnomer “Native Americans”). 

Though I’ve lived and worked in Phoenix and San Diego, my roots run deep.  It was a sentiment shared with my late friend Governor and General Joe Foss (and if you ask “Joe who?”, then you stumbled onto the wrong blog).  He said, “I was born a farmer and I’ll always be a farmer.”

I grew up in a Northeast Oregon town of about 900, attending a four-year high school with 120 students.  A great grandfather and grandfather were mayors; one got the streets paved.  I was on the city council as police, park, and library commissioner.  Maybe I’m the only police commissioner anywhere who loaded ammo for his “force.”

The ranch was a life lesson.  Aside from growing wheat, peas and cattle, we raised horses, mules, bison, and llamas.  My youngest brother considered camels but Dad’s response was predictable: he Just Said No.

Summer vacation?  What’s that?  Ten-hour days before, during and after wheat were typical.  I think the record was fourteen.  The routine was almost happily broken by runs with Dad’s tricked-out fire truck.  Previously he’d been chief of the rural fire department because he owned the truck.

Upon turning 75, I harkened back a quarter century to recall my 50th birthday.  (Sidebar: one of my valued friends was a Navy test pilot who said his 30th birthday was the biggest surprise of his life).  Like almost everybody who attains half a century, I pondered the fact that I was farther from The Beginning than The End.  

Somewhere in my archive is a list of Things I Learned In Fifty Years.  I wish I could find it because some of the entries remain even more valid now.  Particularly “The guilty will punish the innocent.”  You can make of that statement what you will, but from my perspective here in Arizona Territory, it’s applicable to the XXI Century.  Like totally.

So how to make best use of the remaining time?

Well, assuming 13 years is valid, that should be more than enough to write the four books I want to complete.  The subjects remain Beyond Top Secret lest one of the dozens of my blog readers usurp my originality.  One of the incomplete manuscripts has sulked in the back of my file cabinet since about 1980, victim of the inability of my coauthor to finish his portion before he up and died on me.

If my warranty expires prematurely, I will not be overly disappointed.  I was blessed with a mother who gave her sons the gift of curiosity, and a father who provided a strong example and good living off the land.  Recalling the family motto: Spes Alit Agricolum.  “Hope Flies With the Farmer.”

Like so many American families, mine has a record of long voyages and risk taking.  From Northern Europe to England in the 8th century, to America in the 17th (Mayflower and all that) ultimately to the shores of the Pacific.  And here we remain—there’s nowhere else to go even if we wanted to.

It’s been a long journey, often dangerous.  Both sides of my family were engaged in the Revolutionary War but my father’s side was split.  Lieutenant Colonel Tench Tilghman was George Washington’s aide de camp who took news of the Yorktown victory to congress in 1781.  Tench’s father and brothers remained loyalists.

My mother joined the DAR on two ancestors who commanded the militias at Lexington and Concord: Captain John Parker and Colonel James Barrett, respectively.  She had a cousin named Parker Barrett. 

My maternal great-great grandparents trekked the Oregon Trail in 1852, and Martha Jane Nye left a journal that I transcribed about 120 years later.  I still think it would make a terrific book if my agent could convince a publisher.  Those people had soaring optimism—and heart.  They left behind everything they knew for an uncertain future in the Oregon Country.  It was a five-month race against nature, starting when the grass was high enough to sustain oxen pulling wagons, and ending before winter descended with chilling-to killing finality.

I wonder what the Founders generation would make of their posterity today.  We seem to be pushing away their principles with both hands.  The nation and its culture are bitterly divided, and whatever healing followed the debacle we call “Vietnam” has withered in a welter of political bitterness, open corruption, double standards, and frequent violence.

I’m reminded of the oft-cited ancient Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.”

I’ve done almost everything I was capable of doing if not everything I wanted to do—particularly becoming a military aviator.  (I couldn’t catch a break: asthma, eyes, and flat feet.)  But I grew up restoring and flying historic aircraft, earning a decent living writing about them, now tallied at 50-some books and 800 articles worldwide.  Believe-you-me: that is not easy to do.

OK, I’m eligible for a Geezer card because my hearing impairment arose long before I reached “retirement” age.  A lifetime of shooting, dating from before ear protectors were perfected, and several hundred hours in open cockpits.  But I wouldn’t exchange that disability for anything.

My most memorable month: May ’65 when I soloed and made Eagle Scout.

My worst month: June, several years running when I lost life-lines including three writing colleagues and two of the closest friends I’ve ever had.  Two died violently: one flying a P-38; the other—a retired Marine general—was murdered in a home invasion.  For years I grew twitchy around the middle of May because experience proved I was not being superstitious.

I grew up with two accomplished younger brothers, both multi-talented and successful in business and academics. 

I won state and regional championships in high school as a percussionist and speaker-debater.

I’ve traveled to Canada, Mexico, Britain, and the Philippines.  I have hunted in Africa, and led a national championship shooting team.  

I have enjoyed—and deeply appreciate—the friendship of men and women who share two qualities: all are ethical and unusually intelligent—and most are accurate.

And late in life I found Her, The One, whom it would have been dreadfully easy to miss.  

Thank you, God.  For everything.

"NEVER AGAIN"?

This is a vitally important message, relevant beyond the borders of Israel when blatant antisemitism has arisen and is condoned in American and Western institutions.

Read it in context of other massacres of unarmed populations, whether the the 2014 mass murder in China (31 killed, 140 injured with knives) or the 2015 Charlie Hebdo attacks in Paris (12 killed, 11 wounded with various firearms).

The author reminds me of a late friend, colleague, and mentor Lt. Col. Jeff Cooper, USMCR, who wrote, among many other things: “Fight back!  Whenever you are offered violence, fight back!  The aggressor does not fear the law, so he must be taught to fear you.  Whatever the risk, at whatever the cost, fight back!"

Remember, dear readers: in one’s final moments, it’s possible to die like a samurai—or an insect.


Reprinted by permission of The Prickly Pear October 25, 2023.

“Never Again”, My Tuchus - PRICKLY PEAR (thepricklypear.org)

“NEVER AGAIN” MY TOKHES
By Charles M. Strauss

“Never again” what?  Never again will Jews allow themselves to be led like sheep to the slaughter? Never again will Jews be surprised by depraved maniacs that want to kill them? Never again will Jews be unprepared to defend themselves, to fight for their own lives, and the lives of their children?

Well, here we go again. In Gaza within the past three weeks Israeli Jews did allow themselves to be led like sheep to the slaughter; they were surprised, and they were unprepared to fight.

“Hold on there! How dare you blame the victims!” Sorry, but we blame victims all the time, when they deserve to share the blame. Control your outrage for a minute and think about this fairly common scenario. You see a story in the news that says a drunk driver crossed the center line, and ran head-on into another car, killing the young woman driving, and her two-year-old child.  

Who is to blame? The drunk driver, of course! Not the victims! How dare you blame the victims! But then you find out that the mother was texting on her phone at the time, and never saw the wrong-way driver coming, and took no evasive action. Also, the mother was not wearing a seatbelt, and the child was neither in a child seat nor wearing a seatbelt, but was jumping around on the back seat. Now who’s to blame? Can we agree that the drunk driver is primarily to blame, but the mother shares part of the blame, for failing to mitigate the harm to herself and her child? 

So, who is to blame for the terrorist attack on Israeli kibbutzim? The terrorists, of course -- primarily. But the Israelis who were completely unprepared to fight back must accept some blame, for forgetting about the slogan, “Never again.”

How did that happen? How did Israel go from a nation of lions to a nation of sheep, with neither guns, skill, or will to kill people trying to kill them? One of the underlying themes of “Never again” (which originated in 1945) was the idea that if Jews had their own country, then “never again” would they be attacked by their next-door neighbors, as they were throughout Europe.
 
Maybe once Israel was created in 1948, complacency set in, as people thought, “OK, now that we have our own country, we are safe. We have fences, and walls, and observation posts, and a strong army, so we don’t need to take individual responsibility for our own safety.” Clearly (and to many of us, predictably) that did not work out so well.

In his book, Fighting Terrorism: How Democracies Can Defeat Domestic and International Terrorism (1995), none other than Benjamin Netanyahu (of all people) wrote: "Restrict ownership of weapons. Tighten gun control, beginning with registry of weapons. Israeli law, for example, requires careful licensing of handguns and prohibits the ownership of more powerful weapons, yet gun ownership is widespread” (page 147). Maybe gun ownership was widespread in 1995, but in the ensuing years, Netanyahu’s careful licensing of handguns, and prohibition of rifles and submachine guns, effectively neutered a once-proud people. For fostering complacency and unreadiness, he must accept part of the blame.  

Note that there were a few (regrettably, very few) Israelis who were prepared, and did fight back. And they won. The most famous, Inbal Rabin-Lieberman, is a 25-year-old woman who organized the defense of Kibbutz Nir-Am. Her twelve-member security team, armed with rifles, killed 25 terrorists over a period of three or four hours, until the IDF arrived. (“When minutes count, the IDF is only hours away.”) There were zero, repeat, no, li’eppes casualties among the approximately 800 residents of Nir-Am. The fight-backers won, 25-0.

Wait a minute – what’s wrong with this picture? Twelve people with rifles to protect 800? Why weren’t all of the adults armed?

Like many (most) Americans, I was under the impression that the Israeli populace was armed, with Uzi submachine guns and Galil rifles, in accordance with the spirit of “Never again.” Wrong. Over the years, the Israeli government (and people) have become more “liberal” politically (ironically, meaning “more restrictive”). Now gun ownership in Israel is rare. Something like 2% of the population have permits to own guns, but only handguns – no Uzi or Galil or AR15 ownership permitted. Furthermore, they are permitted to possess only 50 rounds of ammunition at a time! For those readers who are not shooters, 50 rounds is barely enough for a short practice session. In other words, those few Israelis who get their government’s permission to own handguns are effectively prevented from developing any proficiency with them. Brilliant.

Good news! As a result of the terrorist attack, the Israeli government has decided to relax the restrictions, and permit the potential victims of terrorism to possess – are you ready? – 100 rounds of ammunition! Whoop-ti-do. These are unserious people, who do not take the concept of “Never again” seriously.

One report said that the procedures for handgun licenses will be eased, and that 8,000 people have applied for permits. Eight thousand? Out of seven million Jews? Is that a joke? Neither the government nor (apparently) the people have recalled the spirit of “Never again.” In a country surrounded by people openly proclaiming their desire to kill every Jew (and acting on it), every Israeli adult should be demanding the right to carry a handgun at all times, everywhere; and there should be one rifle for every adult in every home. If the government were serious about “Never again,” it would be requesting four or five million rifles from the U.S., and seven magazines and a thousand rounds for each rifle. Every kibbutz and every town would have a shooting range where people could practice.

Here’s the catch, though: just owning a gun is not enough. As the late Lt. Col. Jeff Cooper wrote, “You are not ‘armed’ because you own a gun, any more than you are a ‘musician’ because you own a guitar.”  

Of course, an armed populace (i.e., “militia”) needs to be trained in marksmanship and tactics (i.e., “well-regulated”), but even more important that that is mental conditioning, what Cooper called “Combat Mindset,” or “fighting spirit,” the readiness and willingness to fight.  “Hell no, I won’t get in that railroad car.” “Hell, no, I won’t surrender.” “Hell no, I won’t allow myself to be taken hostage.”
 
The sheep-person’s bleat is that if he resists, he will be killed. That excuse may have been valid for the Jews who allowed themselves to be herded into the railroad cars in Germany, thinking their lives would be spared, but now we know better. Now we know that if you don’t fight back, you certainly will be killed, but if you do fight back, you only probably will be killed. (And remember the 25-0 score of the Nir-Am kibbutzniks.) If you are going to die either way, you might as well take one or two of the terrorists with you.

Having a gun is a great morale-booster and force-multiplier, making it easier to decide to fight back, but not having a gun does not preclude Combat Mindset. If you know you are about to die, you can throw yourself at a terrorist and drive your thumbs into his eyes before he knows what is happening. You can hit him upside the head with a frying pan. You can stick a butter knife between his ribs. If your choice is to die curled up on the floor, begging “Please don’t cut my baby’s head off,” or die with your thumbs in a terrorist’s eye sockets, then for G_d’s sake, die fighting.

“Fight back!  Whenever you are offered violence, fight back!  The aggressor does not fear the law, so he must be taught to fear you.  Whatever the risk, at whatever the cost, fight back!"

HILLARY'S DEPROGRAMMING SCHEME

This month's entry is from my latest American Thinker contribution.

https://www.americanthinker.com/blog/2023/10/hillarys_deprogramming_scheme.html

The railroad cars squealed to a stop where lines of police and soldiers stood by to receive the deplorable passengers.  The human cargo—nearly all middle aged to seniors—debarked with their few permitted possessions and turned where the uniformed guardians directed.  Those using crutches or wheelchairs took separate routes for greater efficiency.

 

Some of the deplorable detritus still sported red hats rather than yellow stars.

 

Welcome to Hillary Clinton’s Amerika.

 

In a CNN interview earlier this month Clinton said, “At some point maybe there needs to be a formal deprogramming of the (Trump) cult members.”

 

That sentiment is from a former Democrat presidential candidate who has been in the public eye, holding national offices, for thirty years.  Perhaps she still does not realize that in 2016 by characterizing Donald Trump voters as “a basket of deplorables” she energized the GOP base and fence sitters.

 

A few salient points that the former first lady omitted from her deprogramming scheme:

 

Establishing legality (perhaps a minor concern on the left.)

 

Providing considerable funding (perhaps a minor concern on the left, which has run our debt north of an unrecoverable $32 trillion.)

 

Establishing the institutional and physical infrastructure.

           

Providing qualified deprogrammers for untold millions of Deplorables.

           

Identifying the offenders other than by their red MAGA hats or bumper stickers.

 

Convincing the Deplorables to board trucks and trains.

 

Since millions of Deplorables are not voluntarily going to board transport to deprogramming camps—Clinton is appalled that they cling to their guns—the process would immediately turn confused, messy, and loud.

 

As a Yale-educated lawyer, Clinton surely knows that in the American justice system, the accused are presumed innocent until proven guilty.  How to prove who were/are “cult members,” and how to square that accusation with First Amendment rights?

 

Obviously: you do not.  But it doesn’t seem to matter.  Clearly, Clinton’s political zealotry has overcome any residual trace of rule of law.

 

The foregoing reflects what The Wall Street Journal (October 6) properly labeled “the totalitarian heart of Hillary Clinton.”  That phrase reflects upon the two-tiered justice system now institutionalized in the United States.

 

Nor does the matter end with Hillary Clinton.

 

CNN’s interviewer Christiane Amanpour could have pressed Mrs. Clinton on the subject but apparently Amanpour is more astute in such matters than her colleague. Amanpour’s husband James Rubin was an assistant secretary of state under Bill Clinton and became an advisor to Hillary Clinton and other prominent Democrats.  Numerous viewers wonder if Amanpour was exercising de facto editorial control over her careless colleague.  CNN’s star certainly was not practicing objective journalism, nor anything within telescopic range of it.

 

Aside from the ethical and legal problems of Deprogramming (easily overlooked by political zealots—ask Lenin, Hitler, Mao, and Pol Pot among others), there’s the unavoidable matter of housing and/or detention space for the Deplorables.  Of the 74-some million Trump voters, assume that 10 percent are declared eligible for Deprogramming.  That’s about the same number of illegal immigrants that Clinton’s party has allowed to violate U.S. sovereignty since President Biden took office.

 

(Sidebar: the 7 million figure comes from The Department of Homeland Security, in the same administration as the White House spokesperson who continually bleats “The border is secure.”  Seven million equals or exceeds the populations of three dozen states.)

 

Leftists openly advocate draconian measures to advance their agendas.  In 2019 teenage activist Greta Thunberg (“That Swedish truant”) famously called for climate deniers to be put “against the wall.”  When pinned down, she apologized in case anyone “misunderstood.”

 

For more historical context, recall that in the Soviet Union, unknown thousands of dissidents were sent to mental institutions for detention or “cure.”  Building on existing policies, the 1958 addition to Moscow’s criminal code was aimed at those promoting “anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda.”  There was no right of appeal.

 

If any Democrats condemned Clinton’s appalling suggestion, so far the statements seem to remain well hidden.  No matter how phrased, my Google searches for the subject produce this:

 

“It looks like there aren’t any great matches for your search.”

 

That fact alone implies liberal tolerance for, or outright acceptance of, Hillary Clinton’s nascent American gulag.

THOUGHTS ON HEROISM

 

Who is a hero, and what is heroism?  

The subject occurred to me during the O.J. Simpson case in the 1980s, when seemingly every news cast referred to Simpson as “a sports hero.”

I wondered: what is a sports hero?

Is there actually such a thing?

No, it does not.  And I’ll tell you why.

Unless the penalty for failure involves death, dismemberment or torture, it is therefore not heroic and needs to be called something else.

Whether Simpson was a double murderer or not, he was never a hero, and neither was any other athlete. 

With extremely rare exceptions, the greatest dangers in athletics are non-lethal injuries and not making the playoffs.  Especially not making the playoffs.

Yet our culture is so degraded that I found two dictionaries with secondary definitions of hero: “Someone who is well known.”

That is disgusting.

I’ve written two books about the Medal of Honor partly based on a dozen or more recipients among friends and associates.  (Sidebar: there is no such thing as “Medal of Honor winner.”  Recipients insist, “You don’t win the medal. It’s not a contest.”)

Setting aside the political context of the Medal of Honor, and often other decorations, maybe it’s more instructive to consider the nature of heroism.  I’ve come to believe that the defining factor is not merely courage, but time.

Time to think.  Time to ponder the consequences.

There’s a huge difference between impulsive courage (“I have two seconds to jump on that grenade”) and reasoned courage (“I’m giving my parachute to a wounded crew mate.”)

Among my friends is John, a retired Oregon sheriff.  He ran into a burning house to search for trapped victims and narrowly escaped.  Later he said, ‘I didn’t think about it, I just did what I had to do.”

Sometimes courage involves knowledge of the risk.

Examples of enthusiasm versus heroism occurred in the Crimean War of 1853 to 1856 when Britain, France, and the Ottoman Empire fought Russia for control of the peninsula.  Afterward, Britain turned a captured Russian cannon into the source of the world’s most prestigious military decoration—the Victoria Cross.  The first awards were made in 1857.

In at least two instances, British lieutenants jumped into enemy tranches without looking before they leapt.  And in both instances wiser noncoms, knowing the facts, rescued their officers from crowds of Russians.  The sergeant and corporal received VCs because they acted despite knowing the severe risk.

During World War I the British Army’s Victoria Cross committee considered more standardized measures.  Two recorded sentiments were, “A hero does not save the wounded; he kills the enemy.”  

Another: “You have to do a bit of fighting.  You have to shoot somebody.”

However, different standards often apply.  Of the three recipients of two VCs, two were life-saving medical personnel.  And on Iwo Jima in 1945 at least seven Marines justly received the Medal for leaping on grenades to shield their friends.

Yet time after time, objectivity fails.

Immediately after the 9-11 attacks in 2001, it seemed that every U.S. politician within reach of a microphone chanted the unthinking mantra, “cowardly suicide bombers.”

 

Apparently that industrial-grade oxymoron remained unchallenged, perhaps for fear of appearing “unpatriotic.”

But the Islamic zealots who hijacked three American airliners were as devoted as Japanese pilots 56 years before.  In both cases, true believers in their respective causes were willing to sacrifice their lives for their beliefs.  The main difference was scale: the 9-11 attacks involved eleven terrorists in one day; in 1944-45 probably more than 3,000 kamikazes perished over ten months.  

Heroism also rides with some otherwise unsavory characters.  In the Revolutionary War, General Benedict Arnold was renowned for his battlefield courage.  He was twice wounded before he turned traitor to the American cause.

Far later, future Reichsmarshal Hermann Goring received the coveted Pour le Merite as a fighter pilot and leader in World War I—one of 81 airmen so honored.  About 600 other army and navy officers received the blue plated Maltese cross, from infantry captains and naval lieutenants to field marshals and grand admirals.  

Meanwhile, more than 600 Victoria Crosses were awarded during the Great War.

Though ineligible for the “Blue Max” as an enlisted man, another German soldier became even better known.  Corporal Adolf Hitler was twice decorated and twice wounded including temporary blindness from mustard gas.  

Meanwhile, atitude counts in heroism.

Over Guadalcanal in 1942, when eight Grumman Wildcats clawed for altitude to intercept more than thirty Japanese bombers and fighters, the normal American response likely was, “My gosh!  We’re outnumbered!”  That was situation normal.

But Captains Joe Foss and Marion Carl plus others saw the same setup and licked their chops.  “Look at all those targets!”  Skill bred confidence, which re-enforced heroism.  

One of the aces’ contemporaries, later a vice admiral, said, “I learned on Guadalcanal that frequently how much courage a man has depends on how much food and sleep he’s had in the last 72 hours.”

The admiral’s comment speaks volumes, spanning the history of human conflict.  Context defines the type and extent of heroism.  And regrettably, the record shows that physical courage is far more common than the moral variety.  Throughout time, men who demonstrated physical courage and valor failed their moral gut check. 

Perhaps Aristotle best addressed the subject seventeen centuries ago: “You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor.” 

WHAT WOULD TENCH THINK?

In 1974 I started a reference folder that lingered in my files nearly half a century.  When I retrieved the original this year I found that some of the lengthy passages were preserved on carbon paper, written with the Royal Standard my father bought before I was born.

I intended to write of my distant cousin Lt. Col. Tench Tilghman (Old English spelling) as the first in a series built around my family’s history.  More information is available from the Tillman side than the Barretts, hence my decision.            

The Tilghmans/Tillmans probably were representative of most 18th century American families, moving from Continental Europe to Britain, thence to the New World.  Actually, without knowing it before the days of internet research and DNA sampling, I might have considered reaching back beyond recorded history when my ancestors walked out of the Caucasus Mountains 40,000 years ago.

Throughout our history, the hunting and warring instincts have been constant—perhaps an inheritance of our Teutonic influences.  Tillmans were warrior-leaders as both Jutes and Saxons.  My forebears settled in what became the Kent area of southern England in the mid Fifth Century, and by the late 600s were well established as land owners and military chiefs of feudal kings.

We are related by marriage to the Saxon kings of England as well as William the Conqueror and the Plantagenets.  Reportedly, before establishment of the heraldry school at Oxford, the Tilghman coat of arms was nearly identical to that of the royal family’s.  The crest still bears testimony to that heritage: a lion rampant wearing a crown.  The motto, Spes Alit Agricolum, had particular meaning to my ranching family: “Hope flies with the farmer.”

The first Tillman native in the New World was Gideon of the (Chesapeake) Eastern Shore, born in 1640 two years after his father Richard settled in Maryland.  The other branch of the family, descended from Dr. Richard Tilghman (Richards are numerous among us), arrived twenty-three years later in 1671, and his direct descendant, Lt. Col. Tench Tilghman, was George Washington’s aide-de-camp.

When Tench was born in 1744, life expectancy for white males was 28 to 32, depending upon demographic sources.  Tench died in 1785 at 41.  His mentor, George Washington, lived to 67.   And Tench’s friend the Marquis de Lafayette survived heavier odds than fate would allow, lasting an impressive 76 years.

There have been other notable Tillmans, but few with Tench’s credentials.  They include a United States Senator from South Carolina, one of Theodore Roosevelt’s political foes, though two navy ships bore his name.  Others include a superintendent of West Point; a well-known Oklahoma lawman; and the wife of airpower pioneer General Billy Mitchell. 

Tench’s family was rent by the revolution.  His father remained loyal to the crown, and a younger brother was a Royal Navy officer.  Throughout the war, Tilghman Island in the Chesapeake was a British base.  

Most notably, among dozens of Tench’s first cousins was Margaret “Peggy” Shipping, aka Mrs. Benedict Arnold.

Tench’s Philadelphia business was burned by British loyalists (Tories) in 1774, the year of The Intolerable Acts, which Tench publicly opposed.  They included blockading Boston Harbor against commercial traffic; imposed severe restrictions upon Massachusetts governance including only one public meeting annually; and requiring home owners to quarter British soldiers.

After a stint with the treaty delegation negotiating with The Six Nations of Indians in 1775, Tench turned his attention to the war.  He became Washington’s aide-de-camp in August 1776 and remained for most of the war.  Washington thought so highly of Tilghman that he chose his aide to tell Congress in Philadelphia of the momentous victory at Yorktown in 1781.

 The essence of American independence was aptly described two centuries later in the stage play and movie 1776 by Peter Stone and Sherman Edwards.  In debate over the Declaration of Independence, Benjamin Franklin (Howard Da Silva) tells fellow Pennsylvanian John Dickinson, “We've spawned a new race here, Mr. Dikinson. Rougher, simpler; more violent, more enterprising; less refined. We're a new nationality. We require a new nation.”

But London was determined to maintain its goal to “Make the world England.”  Apart from North America, the British Empire was engaged in the Caribbean, Ireland, India, and the Franco-Spanish siege of Gibraltar.  American independence finally came in 1783.

My hope to complete Tench’s story as a Bicentennial tribute to his nation languished while I wrote other things.  If he were alive today, undoubtedly he would observe the current state of the republic with mixed emotions.  From what I learned of the man, his joy at seeing what he helped birth two and a half centuries ago would be tempered—even blunted—by what our federal government has become.  Don’t forget: the Continental Army went to war opposing arbitrary decisions by remote bureaucrats.  It opposed excessive taxation and extravagant spending.  Widespread internal division and turmoil hampered the chances for a successful conclusion to a long, wearing struggle.  Tench’s wartime service was almost constantly against a more numerous, better equipped foe, and he would be astonished to see America’s diminished world standing despite its unexcelled military power.

On the other hand, what would Tench find for encouragement?  In 1974 I wrote, “Perhaps the most telling of all would be the fact that anyone who believes it necessary (and some who apparently do not) can openly and freely criticize his government without fear of censure or retaliation.  That kind of freedom was rare in the world that Tench Tilghman knew.  We can only pray that in another two centuries our posterity may find it still so.”