I recommend reading this OP from the New York Times. I've heard the buzz around that the nature of war is changing and air power is not as necessary as it once was. But here are some straight facts and some excellent assessment on that.
The Holidays are over. Thankfully. I'm just plain tired. Between a report that was given to me the Friday before Christmas and wrapping up a database design by the first week of January, I wound up working around 40 hours either at home or the office on these projects over the four day holiday weekend. I stayed up late and pushed hard over the weekend trying to get these two projects done to the point that I knew I could meet my deadlines, but the database proved to be a particular bear. I still had to put in some time Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but I did get it to the point that I didn't have to take anything with me when we left on leave Thursday after Christmas. I would have had it done before now, but I was waiting to see if we got a network drive before putting in all the time to rework the individual stand alone version. I got news the network was up suddenly without much warning and with the new year coming, it was best to get the system up for tracking data for the next calendar year. Lots of work, but now our team will always have an up to date calendar, will know exactly what the status is on each funeral, what all the upcoming assignments are, and our chaplain assistants will no longer have to manually track and compute metrics. I even set it up to do charts for them. It has been fun learning how to put Access to work.
The day after Christmas turned cold and wet on us. I had a fill in from the honor guard. She did a great job and everything went well if we were a bit wet and cold. That evening we visited with friends from my former parish in Illinois whose son lives in the area.
I wore a jacket that has Air Force embroidered on it part of the time. Several times I was stopped and asked if I was in the military now, had been to Iraq, what it was really like, and even a couple of times who I thought would be good presidential material. Each time from these good southern mountain folks I sensed a true sense of dedication and support for those who serve and for the mission and job they are doing. It was most heartening to know that my folk back home still believe in what we are doing and still expect that we are going to win. (The picture of PALS is of a restaurant near my Mom's. They started out with two smaller more conventional restaurants and expanded with other like the drive in here. They have become an icon of Kingsport.)
I could have used that cinnamon bread trying to get into Sevierville. 2 hours to go the last six miles. I think everyone and their cousin was aiming for the festival of lights down there. There were a couple of points where I thought about ordering a pizza and having it sent to the car. But the park wasn't too crowded and we got into most everything my family wanted to see. My youngest was very impressed with the train ride. My most refreshing moment was listing to a quartet of bluegrass musicians singing old Christmas carols of the hills. I was encouraged when one gentleman shared that with the blessing of Dollywood they wished us a Merry Christmas with the stress on the Christ in Christmas and then proceeded to give a clear statement of faith in the Gospel of Christ. In Dollywood back in the hills of Tennessee Christ is still the heartbeat of the Christmas season. I spoke with one of the musicians and found that he grew up not far from where I live and that his father pastored a church about five miles south of here. Small worlds.
I spent some time doing odds and ends around Mom's house. Her health is in serious decline. She hasn't been telling me everything. I wish I was in a position to keep a closer eye on her. I did take an afternoon for what is one of my favorite past times in the hills of Tennessee. I picked one of the trails that weaves its way through the hills and countryside and spent the afternoon running. I was sore the next few days, but my spirit was refreshed. My Mom even taught my wife how to make a country pot of soup beans. First time in years that I've enjoyed a bowl of brown beans and homemade cornbread. That was some good eatin!
This week I and several of my military team were invited to the White House to tour the Christmas decorations. (Picture to the left is from 2004, no cameras allowed.) Yes, we were there when the fire broke out next door in the Executive Office building. We thought something might be going on from the scramble we saw with some of the Secret Service. The fire did not disrupt events in the White House though. Outside though, it was evident that big doings were going on as firetrucks screamed through the area.
Thursday was a surprising day. The Air Force is doing a major re-engineering of some of my old dental work and I looked forward to a day of having the whole left side of my head numb. (Wasn't dissapointed there.) We had a last minute training evolution dropped on us too. I was lucky though, I got out of my appointment in time to make the session and find a parking place (a huge challenge at Bolling AFB). My teammate drove over and could not find parking near the location so he wound up not taking the training. You don't dare park creatively (illegally) as the DC police dept will kindly serve as your conscience. I've gotten used to parking at the BX and just walking the mile or mile and a half to get to where I am going. But sometimes you don't have the time.
Speaking of time, I wish I had a few more days before Christmas. This will be my third year away from home for the holidays. I hope to take some leave right after Christmas but it will depend on whether I get a few things done. I had some things fall onto my desk this week that I didn't anticipate. I've been tapped for a short term special duty escorting flag officers which has moved up some suspenses of projects I am working on. Looks like during the long weekend that most civilian federal employees are enjoying I'll be working on finishing up two major projects and starting a third. (The gym I use has been closing at 2:30pm already for the holidays and starting tomorrow is completely closed - yes it's a military gym, but not Air Force.) One is very labor intensive as it involves finalizing a design for a database for our Air Force team at Arlington to help us better track and manage our funeral services. The other is not as intensive, but requires precision or as it is called "attention to detail". That one is due the 26th. I hope to knock out most of that tomorrow if I can get into my office which can be a challenge. The military does not control the building my office is in. I've found that my access to my office tends to be restricted to normal business hours, when the civilians are in. Last time I tried to get in on a Saturday, the computer access would not recognize me. Well that is not exactly the case. It knew who I was, it just wouldn't allow me in. I've been told that has been corrected so tomorrow I plan to test it. (Me & computers haven't been getting along lately. Blew the mother board out on my main system at home and my keyboard at the office likes to type on its own sometimes.) If I can't get in to my office over the weekend then I'll go in during the day on Christmas Eve when the computer locks will allow me access during normal business hours. I just wish life came at you in normal business hours. At least the building will be quiet. (Hope the heat is on. Hmmm.... didn't think about that.)
I'm reminded every day practically that our service members don't really have regular office hours when I see the security forces personnel manning our gates at one of the local bases. A local radio station is asking for people to pray for those overseas and away from family. But I wonder if folks realize that even military people right here at home are pulling duty away from family. This is a job that takes the vast majority of our folks away from home. Not many can take leave, because we always have the job to do and we must always be prepared for contingencies. Our cops are standing security in the cold. Our communications and command and control folks are in their work centers. Our hospitals are staffed. There will be a lot of our young men and women working Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
It was quite cold as my oldest daughter, her friend, and myself met with our IMA Chaplain and one of our chaplain assistants and his girlfriend to join in the annual wreath laying at Arlington. This year the number of wreathes was doubled to 10,000. There was a huge crowd of folks. I would guess there were 3 to 5 thousand people here. We took a wreath a piece and found gravesites to lay the wreath. The girls laid their wreaths on soldiers who fought in the Spanish American war. I laid my wreath on the grave of a sailor who fought in World War I.
I am especially moved by those services where the families share my hope in resurrection through what Christ accomplished for us at the cross. Each family grieves the loss of their loved ones, but St. Paul is so right when he says that those who have faith do not grieve as others do. You can see the hope in their eyes when the traditional passages of Scripture promise are read. Christmas is especially moving as it is very much in remembrance that the Savior came to this world to defeat sin and death. Even as the holiday season expands due to various cultural and social influences to include non-Christian traditions, it will always be the birth of Jesus that is the source for why their is a Christmas celebration. And death, the biggest problem of them all still finds its only solution in the promised salvation and resurrection that is God's gift to us through faith in Jesus Christ. My favorite services are those where I not only honor the memory and sacrifice of military service made by the deceased, but where I also proclaim and celebrate with the family our shared hope in Jesus.
These are fields of honor spread out beneath the Air Force Memorial. 
Hallowed is an ancient word, far older than Arlington, but likely not more ancient than war and struggle to defend oneself and one's loved ones against oppression and tyranny. Hallowed means to be set apart and above for a special and unique purpose. In religious though it pertain that which is sacred and of the realm of God. But there is a hallowedness to military service as well. For military service is first and foremost service. For the Air Force, this expressed in one of our core values "service before self". Arlington is ground set aside to recognize, honor, and inscribe in stone the remembrance of those who gave their life in that service. In my opinion, the honor is not bestowed through burial here, but recognized. The honor is bestowed in the faithful service of those who buried here. 
I am blessed to work along side every day some of the most dedicated and honorable people I have ever known. I'll also admit than when I walk or drive through the pathways of the cemetery, I smile when I see the arches of the Air Force Memorial rising up over the treeline of this ground - for each arch reminds me of a core value that I truly believe are more than just words for the Air Force - but are truly lived by our service members every day: integrity, excellence in all we do, and service before self. Those arches remind me of why I am here. They challenge to rise and meet their challenge for service.
Fall has finally arrived at Arlington, though the recent drought has dimmed the color throughout the cemetery according to those who work here. Friday was our first cold and rainy day. By afternoon I think everyone was cold and soggy including the horses that pull the caisson. But that is part of the job knowing that we go in all weather - the mission will always be accomplished here - to honor those who have served their country in uniform.
As I hear their stories from their loved ones and sometimes read their stories through tributes and official military documents, I have come to see that perhaps the description of "the greatest generation" is not lost upon them. I would certainly rate today's soldier, sailor, marine, or airman up there with any warrior of that age. And indeed they are engaged in titanic struggle of huge scope and perhaps even more important consequence, but truly there was something special about the generation that saved the world from the tyranny and dominance of Nazi Germany and Japan.
Thinking of that generation, one too has to remember, that the men and women who went off to fight the war, and the men and women who remained at home, did not have the advantage of knowing they would win. They believed they could win. They knew they had to win. And they were committed to winning. But they didn't know, like we know, that they won.
Costs were high. We have lost some 3,800 casualties in Iraq, and unless I am mistaken, not all that number is due to combat losses. Illnesses, accidents, suicides, and so forth are included I believe. Each death is one to be mourned and a terrific cost in defense of liberty. But the costs of the WWII generation were staggering. Sometimes the first day of a campaign's opening would bring more casualties than our 6 years combined in the war against terror. But they believed they could not afford the cost of loosing. They believed before they knew - before the last page was written - before the pictures - concentration camps, dead children, dead mothers, fathers, grandparents, entire families, emaciated bodies of the survivors. They believed before certain evidence of a desire by those who considered themselves superior in breeding and philosophy to the rest of the human race who considered they had a destiny to rule all others - that liberty was the enemy of human achievement and rule by the select to be our end. How the world would be different had the men and women of the great generation quibbled. But they did not. With penetrating insight they believed. They looked, considered, understood the tremendous price and sacrifice demanded, but understood the cost of not going forth, girded up their courage with with reason, will, and pure guts and went forth determined to not loose for the sake of liberty, for the sake of their children and grandchildren. I am one of those grandchildren. Perhaps so are you. Enslaved nations were liberated. Conquered nations were set free, rebuilt, and have become tremendous allies of liberty in the world.
It is a true honor at the graveside of one of these airmen to manifest the honor and the debt that this nation has for them. But not for warriors alone. I do almost as many funerals for wives and sometimes the dependent husband. And this is where the generation that my uncle who past away last Friday, who fought at Bastone, truly becomes Magnus - (Great). It was not just the nation's men taking up the shield and spear of war and sallying forth into defense of liberty and justice but those who remained at home who committed themselves to winning the war. Manufacturing plants hummed. Food and other goods were shared and people went without that supplies could be sent forth. Even children collected scrap metal. The entire nation reasoned, willed, and went forward with determination to win. Of course I speak with hyperbole, for there were then, as always detractors, doubters, contesters. But that generation would have no whisper of doubt, no whiff of defeat, no weakness of knee detract it from the only reasonable path before it in the face of what was coming. Victory. For surrender was death, perhaps slow, perhaps in the future, but death for liberty to be certain. Death of a dream. Death of what our nation stood for. And this the great generation, this the Magni, could not stand - so forth they marched, at great cost, to great and tragically necessary victory.
Every year the seasons come and go. Summer if followed by fall and temperatures cool and colors bloom. But the winds of coolness remind us that time passes and winter will come. So we gird ourselves and prepare for service in the cold, the rain, the snow, and the ice because it must be done. But Spring comes too. New life. New hope. But even in the midst of spring one knows that to all things there is a season. A time for peace. A time for war. Soon summer comes again. Once again fall comes and winter will rear its cold head. We do what must be done in all kinds of weather - with the same dedication every day, every time heat or cold beautiful day or cold dreary rainy day - for each family, each servant has earned the gratitude and the honor that is our privilege to represent on behalf of the nation at Arlington.
The family and I have settled into our new location in Alexandria VA. The area is night and day different from the area Andrews sits in. The schools are something to brag on. (Though I have to say, my oldest had great teachers last year, even if the school system Andrews sits in is challenged.) What is most noticeable is the attitude of folks here when you go shopping or out to a restaurant. They are friendly. People's attitudes are entirely different on this side of the Potomac. There is courtesy and respect. At Andrews, we tended to just stay on base to avoid the rudeness encountered when we tried to go shopping or out to eat. We do miss our friends from on base and our kids miss their friends, but we try to take them over periodically to visit.
what is it like. The cemetery itself is a very moving and serene place.
personality. There are many older areas where the stones are quite unique. Each has its special story to tell.
remains, dropping the salute and moving to the position of rest as the hearse passes. When all is ready, all are called to attention and members of the honor guard carefully and precisely transfer the remains to the caisson, a horse drawn carriage. Then we march to the grave side in formation to the music of the Air Force band.
etired from service in honor of the military member who is being buried. At this point, an Arlington lady, one of our fine volunteers, comes forward and offers condolences to the family members. Following this, the chaplain offers his personal condolences and comfort and the ceremony is concluded.