My Blog

I have been reading a book entitled “The Jealousy Man and Other Stories” by Norwegian writer Jo Nesbo. I have been a long-time fan of Jo Nesbo who wrote (and hopefully is still writing) the Harry Hole detective series.

These short stories share one thing in common — they are off-center, even bizarre. From the title story, “The Jealousy Man,” to the end game story “Black Knight,” they all share the unexpected.

At times, some of the stories seem stilted and I think part of that is due to the translation from the Norwegian and the other reason is that is because that is the way the author intended.

Regardless, I am a fan.

When I received news of the passing of Colin Powell, like many Americans, I mourned.

Then, It reminded me of my brief association with Air Force General Daniel “Chappie” James, the first African American four-star general in the United States Air Force.

I knew “Chappie” James, although when we served together, I was a Captain and James was a full Colonel serving as the Vice Commander (second in command) of the 33^rd Tactical Fighter Wing at Eglin Air Force Base in the Florida panhandle. When we talked, I addressed him as “Sir,” not “Chappie.”  He called me whatever he wanted to – but mainly addressed me as “Captain.” I was not assigned to the Fighter Wing, but served as the commander of a small detachment providing technical training to the Fighter Wing aircraft maintenance technicians. 

Colonel James had achieved fame in Air Force circles because prior to his assignment at Eglin, he had served as the Deputy Commander for Operations and later as Vice Commander at Ubon Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand. He served there under Colonel Robin Olds. Both in their mid-40s, they formed a legendary flying team nicknamed “Blackman and Robin” while flying combat mission.

Disturbed by the losses incurred by F-105 Thunderchief fighter bombers flying bombing mission over North Vietnam, Colonels Olds and James hatched a plan, known as “Operation Bolo,” which came to fruition on January 2, 1967.  Vietnamese MIG-21s flew faster and were more maneuverable than the F-105s and U.S, losses of F-105 airplanes and pilots were heavy.  On the day of the mission, Blackman and Robin led flights of F-4 Phantom II fighters along routes normally flew by the slower fighter bombers, flew at the same speeds as the Thunderchief aircraft, used the F-105 radio call signals. When the North Vietnamese MIG – 21s came up to attack the plodding Thunderchief aircraft, they found many flights of Phantoms waiting. The F-4 Phantoms flew in a coordinated staggered pattern to ensure the MIGs would face flights of Phantoms while trying to attack what they believed were slower F-105 aircraft. Other Phantoms from other bases flew in areas near the North Vietnamese air bases to refuse the MIGs the opportunity to escape. 

In the resulting air battle, Olds and James and the rest of the American fighters destroyed seven Communist MIGs, the highest total kill of any mission during the Vietnam War.

In my duties as a member of the training detachment supporting the fighter wing, I had occasion to brief Colonel James several times. Later I learned I would receive a visit from Major General McNabb, who commanded Sheppard Air Force Base, my headquarters. As required, I invited both Colonel Jones, the Commander of the 33^rd Fighter Wing and his deputy Commander, Col James, to attend a briefing I would present to General McNabb. Normally, at these briefings, only one would attend. After my briefing, it was customary for my visiting dignitary to ask the customer how we were doing in our support mission.

Major General McNabb arrived at night and in the morning, before picking him up, I learned the Inspector General had launched an Operational Readiness Inspection or ORI. The ORI tested the wing as to how it would perform during wartime conditions. The wing informed me, because of the ORI, my technical training classes would be canceled and that nobody would be attending the briefing. I was disappointed on one hand, but canceling classes gave me the opportunity to invite my Noncommissioned Officer technical instructors, the Sergeants who did the work, to attend the briefing with the “big boss.”

Having endured many ORIs in his rise to general officer status, General McNabb understood why nobody from the Fighter Wing would attend and welcomed the opportunity to interact more fully with the Sergeant instructors.

I conducted the briefing in a classroom which had large double doors to roll the training engine inside the classroom when needed.  As I was in the middle of my briefing to General McNabb, the double doors burst open, the legendary “Chappie” James burst into the room at a fast pace. He was a man with a large frame, and I, and others, often wondered how he even fit into the cockpit of the F-4.

Colonel James began regaling General McNabb with praise about the services my training detachment provided the wing. In his brief remarks, Colonel James mentioned several of the instructors by name and heaped praise on all the members of the training detachment.  He had done his homework.  Then he left, telling the General he needed to get back “to the war.”

From that moment on, every member of the detachment, including myself, would have followed Colonel James to the gates of hell.

Later, I learned when as the Wing Commander of the fighter wing in Libya, Colonel James went “mano-a-mano’ with Colonel Mohammar Qaddafi at the front gate of the American Air Base. Qaddafi started to reach for the pistol he kept in a shoulder holster and Colonel James pointed his finger and told Colonel Qaddifi not to move his hand. James later remarked, “If he had pulled that gun, his hand would have never cleared the holster.”

When I heard the story, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, had Colonel Qaddafi not backed down, every member of the air wing would have followed Colonel James to the depths of hell and stopped Qaddiffi from unlawfully entering the air base.

Daniel James was an Air Force legend because he exemplified leadership, plain and simple, and it was my privilege to have served with him briefly during my Air Force career. 

Did you ever wish you knew your Grandmother’s life story?

Last year for Christmas, I received a journal where I answered guided prompts about my life for my grandson.

As I began to fill out the journal, I realized I did not know anything about my maternal grandmother who passed when I was 12 years old. My paternal grandmother had died when my father was seven, so I know nothing about her or my maternal grandfather as well.

My grandmother had a lingering illness before she passed, and I remember I slept in the same room as her when I visited. But sadly, we never talked about her life and the events which formed her life. I never really got to know her or about her life at all.

I thought about this for a while and decided to create some journals for people to gift their grandmother.

I created two types of journals for Grandmother or Grandma, if you prefer. 

The first type is a journal with guided prompts where Grandma answers questions about her life.

I divided each journal into six sections with numerous questions in each section. When Grandma fills the journal out, it will become a mini autobiography of a grandmother’s life.

Section One – Early Years

Section Two – Growing Up

Section Three – Adulthood  

Section Four – Marriage and Motherhood

Section Five – Later Life

Section Six – Stories I Want to share

I am not the only one to come up with such journals.

There are some other guided journals which are very good notebooks or guided journals out there, but if you are interested in some of my offerings; here are the links.  P. S. They are all; basically the same with different covers.  

Tell Me Your Life Story, Grandma

Grandmother Remembers

Memories From Your Grandmother Journal for Grandchild

I also created another type of journal which may appeal to grandmothers. They are journals in which a grandmothers can express their feelings and ultimately gift to their grandchildren.

If you are interested, here is an example.

Letters to My Grandson

Redeeming Values

A month ago, when I was getting a haircut, I mentioned to my barber that my wife and I had recently streamed 3 seasons of a popular TV series which had aired on one of the cable TV networks.

I asked her if she had watched it and she politely informed me she had started watching the series but stopped because none of the characters in the drama had any “redeeming value.”

Recently, I reflected on those conversations and started thinking about Harry Miles.  Adopted by a family after his birth parents were killed in an automobile accident, Harry’s first experience with redeeming value occurred while a teenager when he learned a valuable lesson from his adoptive father, Morris.

Whenever Harry had faced a crisis in his teenage years, Morris had always advised Harry to “do the right thing.” Once when fourteen years old, Harry had shoplifted a Compact Disc (CD) from a store, he reacted differently than Harry had expected. When Morris found the CD and realized what Harry had done, he had not screamed or yelled at Harry. He sat Harry down and told him if Harry kept the CD, nothing would be done. He told Harry it was always important for Harry to make a choice. He pointed out to Harry.

Morris said, “The choice you make about this will determine how you will live his life after this. You’re going to have to be the one to decide what the right thing is and then decide if you want to ‘do the right thing.’ Neither Flo nor I can watch over you.”

Morris then told Harry early in his marriage, he had a problem with drinking.

Morris continued, “I had already cut down my drinking considerably, but there still were times I would drink heavily. When Flo and I were faced with the opportunity to adopt you and your sister, if we were to have any success with raising you and your sister, I realized the drinking would have to stop completely. I cleaned myself up and now the strongest thing I drink is a double expresso. It wasn’t easy, mind you, but I felt it was the right thing to do. Sometimes what you choose as the right thing to do is not easy, but once you make it a habit, it gets easier. I know Phil Blankenship who runs the store. He’s not going to miss the profit you caused him to lose by taking the CD but think about this. If more people did what you did, it might build up to such an amount, it could really hurt his business. Besides, how would you feel of someone took something of yours.”

After Harry had enlisted in the air force, he earned a chance to attend the Air force Academy Prep School for a year and then Harry attended the Air Force Academy for four years. During these five years, Air Force Academy embedded its Honor Code in Harry’s consciousness.

“We will not lie, steal or cheat, nor tolerate among us anyone who does.”

It is safe to say Harry had a code to live by – even after his choice to “do the right thing” after flying a daring mission over Iraq, his subsequent trails put his values to the test.

Did Harry make the grade. I think it’s up to the readers of my story, “Redemption” to find out.

If I have peaked your interest, I would invite you to find out.

If God grants me the time and ability to finish the Harry Miles series, many times in the future, Harry will be put to the test to “do the right thing.”  What will he do?

What do you think?

Here is a free short story I write in he late nineties and revised in 2013. Intergalactic invasion attacking Earth.

The Lost Command
By
Ed Benjamin
The supreme commander of the expedition looked about the command vessel and lamented.  One expected losses, but the losses in arriving at the target planet were very significant.  Their home planet was 640 light years from their objective.  Each group of 350 craft had been encapsulated into modules so that the invasion force of 1400 ships could survive the jump through the space warp.  After the entry into near space had been completed, the control center had determined that two of the modules had broken up in hyperspace and the fleet had lost all 700 ships. 
The next calamity occurred when the remaining two modules had entered the target solar system and one capsule spun out of control crashing into the frozen wastes of the eighth planet from the star.   The remaining squadron had proceeded toward the objective, the third planet from the sun. 
This journey through the solar system continued at a slower pace.  The trip from the eighth planet to the third planet took approximately three times as long as the trip through the wormhole. 
The intelligence section spent its time wisely.  The analysts studied the broadcasts of the microwave transmissions received in the lower communications band.  Apparently the occupants of this world had not yet mastered the intricacies of higher band transmissions.  These transmissions did indicate that the inhabitants were on the verge of creating a viable civilization.  The planet contained the raw materials that the commander’s home world needed to alleviate the overcrowding that threatened their existence.  Once determined that this planet was suitable, the leaders made their decision.  They would invade, destroy the life forms ruling the planet, and colonize it.
The mission proceeded.  As the capsule prepared to loose the remaining squadron of 350 ships into the waters of the ocean, a fire broke out and only a hundred or so ships managed to escape into the depths of the planet’s ocean.  Radar did not detect these craft because the home world had miniaturized the attacking ships.  Size did not matter to the success of this mission. 
Once in the water, Phase II of the operation commenced.
After some confusion, the commander was able to rally the ships into a recognizable formation and require them to adopt the disguise of small marine crustaceans that abounded in plenty in these northern waters.  In looking over the remnants of the squadron, the commander found it hard to distinguish his ships from the other crustaceans that frequented the same waters.  That settled, the commander began preparations for activating the Incubula.  This incubula, once activated and dispersed through the atmosphere of the planet, would carry the seeds of destruction for every living being on the planet.  Then, his fellow travelers from home could make the journey and colonize the planet in earnest.
As the commander began to prepare to give the activation orders, he noticed that the formation was becoming very ragged.  He gave orders for the ships to align in a chevron formation.
All of a sudden, the command ship began to roll and it tumbled through a fine mesh-like affair.  Then the ship and all the other ships of the squadron traveled down a long dark space.  The occupants of the craft began to scream as a powerful acid ate through the walls of each ship dissolving it.  All the ships were destroyed before the incubula could be activated.  The mission had failed.
The planet, that its occupants called Earth, was saved.
The two whales swam side by side.  One whale let out a powerful belch.
“What’s the matter?” one whale asked.
“Dunno, must have been a bad bunch of krill.”
“Do you think they could have been something else?”
“If it was, it was something very similar to it.” 
The End

LOL! In war, you have to expect losses, however, in my book, REDEMPTION, my protagonist, Harry Miles attains a great victory in combat then manages to turn that victory into defeat.

You can check it out here.

https://geni.us/HarryMiles

Shit Happens

By

Ed Benjamin

You know as well as I do that Life Happens no matter what.

The key most people agree is what YOU DO WITH IT.

I have a character in my book, Redemption, Sam Ryan, who had the distinction of being the second youngest guest in the infamous Hoa Lo Prison in Hanoi, North Vietnam during the Southeast Asia conflict. Known as the “Hanoi Hilton,” it’s the place where North Vietnam kept many American Prisoners of War (POWs).

As part of Sam’s back story, when Sam was the Captain of his High School football team, his coach used to egg the players on with the phrase, “Shit Happens, but life goes on.”

Sam adopted that phrase while he enlisted in the Air Force during boot camp and when he became a tail gunner on a B-52H strategic bomber dropping bombs over North Vietnam.

After his release from captivity, Sam limped due to an argument he had with a guard at the Hanoi Hilton – the guard won by smacking against Sam’s knee with a stick.

The Air Force assigned him to aircraft maintenance and Sam spent the remainder of his 30 years’ service fixing airplanes. All the maintenance people he supervised got to know the phrase, “Shit Happens, but life goes on.”

He used that phrase to egg them on to better performance fixing airplanes.

After Sam retired and opened a small automotive repair shop in the Hill Country of Texas, a friend talks Sam into trying to resurrect a devastated former Air Force TOP GUN fighter pilot who spiraled downward into an abyss of hopelessness and alcohol abuse.

Will Sam’s “Shit Happens, but life goes on” mantra help Harry to regain his soul? Or will something else happen?

Will Harry gain Redemption?

Well, I hope I have spiked your curiosity to find out.

You can order the book at this link here  

By the way, if you are a member of the Kindle Unlimited program, you can read this siory for free on Kindle Unlimited – the link is on the sales page. Thank you for reading

Ed

The Letters of Room 13 will grab your soul

This remarkable book engages the reader from the very beginning. Simply stated, these letters will grab your soul.  The author recounts the transformative experience of people who have occupied Room 13 of a resort/business center simply called The Centre.

All the guests of Room 13 come from different backgrounds and the experiences they undergo cause important, cathartic, life-changing changes in their lives. The changes the people undergo are painful for some, but every night in the room results in a in-depth reframing for the occupant. Each person comes to grip with an deep facet of his or her personality and finds the night metamorphic as they emerge with a new understanding of life.

In one sense, this is a fantasy since the room always appeared appointed with the furnishings, and accoutrements necessary to create the ambiance to enhance and effect the psychic change.  

The author has undoubtably performed an extensive amount of research and her clear, positive style makes it easy for the reader to understand.

I was heartened by the hint on the last page that a sequel may be forthcoming. I can’t wait!

Obviously I highly recommend everyone, regardless of their taste in books, buy and read this book.  

Santa Claus

by

Ed Benjamin

©1995, ©2013 & ©2019

When Sam Graham got off the bus in Central City; he felt  the cold wind whip around his body, fluttering his clothes. Sam turned the collar of his overcoat up so his ears and the back of his head were protected from the fierce, frigid wind. Kneeling against the pull, he picked up his bag and walked to a nondescript brownstone hotel on First Avenue.

Sam quickly went inside and registered, paid one week’s rent in advance, then hurriedly went up to his room on the seventh floor. Inside his drab hotel room, he sat on the single bed and fingered a loose ringlet in the corded bed cover. After some time, he reached into his pocket and laid a ten-dollar bill, two ones, and some change neatly on the bed.  He stared at the money for what felt like a long time.

As he unpacked his bag, Sam took a bottle of pills and placed them in the top drawer of the bedside dresser.  Once completely unpacked, he left his room and got a hamburger from a little place he had passed down the street. When he returned, he pulled out the bottle of pills and placed them on top of the dresser so he could study them as he lay on the bed. In the neon flicker of the hotel sign, he stared at the bottle until his eyes drifted shut. Soon after, Sam fell asleep.

The only job he could find was playing Santa Claus in a local department store. Every morning Sam would rise at ten, wash up, and go to the store to start his long shift.  He ate at the lunch counter. Fortunately, lunch came with the job. Afterwards, he would change into his big red suit, sit in the chair next to the toy department, and listen to the excited voices of the children at his arrival.

Although he wasn’t a particularly zealous Santa Claus, the children seemed to like him, so the store manager kept him on. The holiday season would be over in two weeks anyway, and help at a minimum wage was hard to find this time of year.

At nine every night, Sam would change back into his street clothes and stop somewhere to eat on his walk back to his room. Once his belly was full of cheap diner food, he would return to his room and lie on the bed. His eyes never left that bottle of pills until sleep forced them to close.

On the third day of his seasonal job, Sam met Joey. Joey was one of many kids in line waiting to see Santa. When it came to be his turn, Joey climbed into Sam’s lap and didn’t say anything. Sam guessed Joey was about seven years old, and he had short black hair and gloomy brown eyes. His clothes were typical for the neighborhood: faded jeans, wool plaid shirt, and a zip-up windbreaker with a patch on the left sleeve. Sam didn’t think much about the boy who just sat there silently in his lap for ten minutes. Sam went through his usual lines of dialogue, but nothing provoked a response from Joey.  Getting tired of the boy, Sam gently guided the boy from his lap and sent him on his way. Wordlessly, Joey walked off, and the next child in line came forward.  That night, Sam could feel the warmth from the boy’s body on his knees as he lay there looking at the bottle.  For a moment, something stirred in his memory as he looked out the window. His gaze shifted back to the pills before he went to sleep.

The next day, Joey was back in line.

“Ho-ho-ho, what’s your name, little boy?” Sam asked the still outwardly meek child as he climbed up into Santa’s lap.

As he did the day before, Joey said nothing. He just sat there. Again, after a few minutes, Sam brushed Joey off his lap to keep the line moving.

And, like a bad rerun no one asked for, Joey was back in line the very next day. Trying to stay in character and not let his frustrations show, Sam asked for the little boy’s name.

“Joey,” the boy finally answered.

Surprised, Sam followed up with, “How old are you, son?”

“Seven.”

“What do you want for Christmas?”

Instead of answering, Joey just climbed out of Sam’s lap and walked away. Beyond confused, Sam watched him leave through the side door. Sam also noticed something else that raised many questions in his own head – Joey was always alone.

The next day,  Sam asked the store manager if he knew anything about a shy boy named Joey.  The manager said he didn’t. On this day, Joey didn’t show up until almost closing time. Again, he didn’t speak. He just sat there on Sam’s lap, resting his weary head on Sam’s silken arm. Since there was no one else in line, Sam let him stay.

When the store started to close, Joey got down and started to walk away. As Sam left his chair to go change, he noticed the young boy had stopped in the toy department to look at some footballs.  Sam changed quickly and rushed to the side door where Joey had exited and rushed out into the street.  Straining his eyes in the streetlight, he thought he saw Joey at the end of the block. Sam hurried to the corner. But when he got there, Joey was nowhere in sight.

That night, Sam didn’t take the bottle of pills out of the dresser. He lay there gazing out the window. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the echoed harmony of Christmas carolers.  It sounded like a recording being played over the loudspeakers of some store.  Funny, he hadn’t noticed it before.

On Monday, he went in to work early. In the toy department, he bought a football and a board game. With the last bit of change in his pocket, he bought a pair of woolen gloves. The lady at Customer Service didn’t charge him extra for wrapping the items. After all, he was Santa Claus.  When they were wrapped, he put them in a brown paper bag and headed to his station to start his shift.

As expected, Joey came in around six o’clock that evening. There were several children ahead of him in line, so he turned and left. Sam was going to call out, but Joey was already gone. At eight o’clock, Joey came back and did his silent routine. When he got off Sam’s lap to leave, Sam handed him the paper bag. Without a word, Joey took the bag and left.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Sam had changed his clothes early because the store was closing at six o’clock. Dusk settled in deep among the cold city streets and alleyways. 

Done with his shift, Sam was walking out of the store when a small, thin woman pulled at his coat sleeve.

“Mister,” she said, “are you Santa Claus?”

She was about forty years old. Her black hair was disheveled and tinged with grey strands, her eyes rimmed in dark, saggy skin.

“Yes… I mean, I was,” Sam answered.

The streetlight seemed to make the scar on her upper lip glisten when she talked. “I just wanted to say thank you. I’m Joey’s mother.”

“It’s all right,” he said, warmed slightly from her earnest words. “I did it for me., mostly.”

When Sam got back to his room, he took the bottle of pills out of the bedside drawer and flushed its contents down the drain. 

Bathed in neon light, Sam smiled and thought, “Maybe next year, somebody will need a Santa Claus.”                                       

                                                                      The End

I hope you enjoyed this story. 

It has been around for some time. I like to share it every year.

If you are interested, I do have other publications, which I sell through various retailers such as Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Apple, and others

You can access these stories by searching for my name “Ed Benjamin” at the various venues.

Ed

I am not sure anyone reads this but I do want to announce my nesest story.

It is called MESSENGER OF GOD: IRAN ATTACKS. If there is interest, I plan to start a series and this will be Episode One.

If this launches, I will hopefully find an incentive to finish my book via a series of episodes.

You can buy the story below.

Yeah, this is shameless self-promotion.

The Two Iranian Air Forces

When researching my book, “Redemption,” I noted Iran has two air forces. The Iranian Air Force serves as an element of the Iranian armed forces to conduct military operations in time of war and support the armed forces in defending Iran’s borders and maintaining internal order. The Aerospace Force of Army of the Guardians of the Islamic Revolution (the Revolutionary Guards Air Branch) possesses a political mission — to protect the country’s Islamic Republic system and other missions, as determined by Iran’s Supreme Leader.

The Revolutionary Guards Air Branch draws its members from the elite of the Iranian Air Force who have proven their loyalty to the Islamic government. The Aerospace Force of the Army of the Guardians of the Islamic Revolution is the air force within the Army of the Guardians of the Islamic Revolution (also known as the Islamic Revolutionary Guards or “Revolutionary Guards”).

The Revolutionary Guards Aerospace Forces operate on a parallel basis and shares facilities with the regular Iranian Air Force; but it is not an equal relationship. Members of the Revolutionary Guards have the better planes and receive higher priorities for parts and materials. The government also pays its members more than the regular Iranian Air Force pays members of equivalent rank. The members of the Revolutionary Guards Aerospace Forces also receive better housing and perks than the members of the regular Iranian Air Force.

Each of the two Iranian air forces have a mix of some very effective aircraft, but as I am writing my book, I decided to use literary license and provide the Revolutionary Guards Aerospace Forces with a fourth generation highly effective fighter, the Su-27 fighter, NATO code-named “Flanker” to engage in combat with the F-15C fighter.

I have also fashioned an excerpt from the book into an eBook short story entitled, “Mar, A Harry Miles Redemption Story.” Mar is the Farsi name for “snake.” It describes maneuvers Mar uses while flying his Su-27 and gives you some insight to his character.

If you are interested in reading this eBook story, you can find it on Amazon and other online retailers.

A link to all online retailers may be found here:
https://www.books2read.com/u/boZrAV

For Amazon only, click below.

https://tinyurl.com/ycey32hz