He was a patriot, and while he would have made a terrible President, I admire him for that. He flew B-29’s over Germany in the war. For men of his age, their service in World War Two, or lack thereof, tells you most of what you need to know about them. George McGovern loved this country. Even today, a lot of people on the political left do as well. Unfortunately, a lot of them really don’t. All they want to talk about is slavery and the displacement of Native Americans. Manifest Destiny was just American imperialism, and nothing more. They read Howard Zinn and think they know something about American history. They know nothing about it at all.
McGovern was a liberal idealist, and when the left wing of the Democratic Party, including Bobby Kennedy, wanted to take Johnson out in 1968 they turned to him. He declined, mainly because his term was up in the Senate, and he wanted to run for reelection. So Gene McCarthy did the job. Somebody had to do it. Johnson was a national disgrace. No one thought McGovern had a chance of winning the Democratic nomination in 1972. He was from South Dakota, for Christ’s sake. He announced in January of 1971 and worked his ass off. He was so angry about the Vietnam War that he was determined to win, and he did. It was a remarkable piece of politics.
The Clintons are another Lyndon Johnson. They’re just as corrupt and in love with power as he was, which is saying something. A lot of young Americans died in Vietnam, needlessly, because it suited the political needs of this despicable man. I guess he’s buried in Texas in a grave somewhere. I’d like to pay it a visit. Benghazi wasn’t Vietnam, and I don’t know all the details, but it certainly appears to me that Hillary would leave brave young Americans to die if it was politically necessary.
Could Lincoln Chafee be another George McGovern? I would love to think so. He’s diffident, not a real politician. But neither was McGovern. He always seemed to have a snarl on his face. Now that I’m a Democrat, I can join his campaign. I went on his website and signed up for email updates. As soon as a California chapter is formed I’ll join. I won’t spend much time on it. Article V comes first. But it will be fun. I’m looking forward to it.
My father and his four brothers are all buried on the Frying Pan Ranch, on the White River, next to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. They all served in uniform in the war, which they were proud of. Only one of them accomplished anything, especially not my father. He’d always get pneumonia right before his tank battalion was supposed to go into action, so he never saw any.
Then there was Uncle Fritz, the family legend. He ran off from home when he was twelve, after his mother died. She died giving birth to his sister, my Aunt Rosemary, her ninth child. She was Irish, a MacNamara, and a devout Catholic who did not believe in birth control. Fritz was her favorite. He was an original member of the 82nd Airborne Division, and fought all the way from Africa to Berlin. During the war, he was a savage.
I went to Alaska to meet him, and when our eyes met there was instant recognition. We looked very much alike, same build, same everything. Except add about thirty pounds of muscle to the upper body. He had a 53 inch chest.
I got to know him very, very well.
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