Butterflies

It was just a matter of time:  I've been mildly interested in butterflies for the past few years, and have taken photographs of those that allowed a close approach.  I recently purchased a copy of Eastern Butterflies, an entry in the Peterson Field Guide series, so for the first time am able to identify some of the butterflies I've photographed.

 A Gray Hairstreak. They dine on a multitude of flowers and fruits.

A Red-spotted Purple, also called White Admiral, that I found in my yard about two weeks ago. They eat tree leaves.

And a pretty Red Admiral.  They are usually found near streams, but can be anywhere during migration. I learned something: the Monarch is not the only butterfly that migrates.  Cool.

I think this is an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail.

2015 Woodcock Surveys

2015 Woodcock Surveys

For the past month or so I've been conducting Woodcock Surveys for the University of Arkansas. A professor there is studying Woodcock migration, and Cari, a creative graduate student working on a masters degree and assisting with the study reached out seeking volunteers to submit data. She built a team of volunteers on her own initiative, mainly because the university needed data pertaining to Woodcock migration, and they lacked funds. To date she has 260 volunteers in four states.

Over the late winter and early spring I conducted about fifteen surveys, each consisting of staking out a potential display field and then waiting for darkness--the mating displays normally begin about twenty minutes after sunset. I checked a different spot each night because they wanted multiple sites surveyed rather than the same ones multiple times. I either saw or heard Woodcock during all but three or four nights on prospective Woodcock display fields ranging over three counties.

The study ends in Illinois today, 9 April; however, Woodcock mating displays, for resident birds, will continue for at least another month--we usually get them on the Spring Bird Count. Here are some things I learned during this year's surveys:

The early Woodcock arrivals are most likely migrants that won't stick around. During migration, like most birds, they're excited to get up to their nesting grounds, and because their hormone levels are rising, perform mating displays at stopover locations while waiting for the next winds from the south. (Very few birds can fly long distances against the wind, and wait for winds blowing the direction they want to go.) During their trip north, they can be found displaying in a wide range of habitat. I found them one night in an agricultural field, and Cari told me that another volunteer once found them in a city park.

Migration ended here, I think, a week or so ago, which helps explain why our Woodcock Mating Display field trip of 30 March was not a resounding success. The date was midway between the departure of migrating birds and the smaller number of resident birds had either not yet arrived or had not selected nesting location and associated display fields. But nevertheless Woodcock were present on that evening. We saw one, heard two or three "Peent" calls, and heard one or two flight songs.

As Spring progresses Woodcock are found less in agricultural fields or other abnormal habitat, mainly because migration is winding down. The birds that nest here, of course, find their preferred habitat, which consists of overgrown fields near woods. They nest in the woods, hence their name, but display in open areas not far removed from their woods so that they can be seen by females as they rise into the air, spiraling upward to an average of 250 feet. Some of these display areas have grasses several feet in height as well as scattered shrubs and trees.

Great Horned Owl and Woodcock don't mix. I surveyed a field of prime Woodcock habitat in the Santa Fe Bottoms a few nights ago. A fellow birder spotted Woodcock there a few weeks ago, and accordingly it was worth visiting. Shortly after dark, about the time I'd expect to hear Woodcock, I heard instead the soft hoots of a Great Horned Owl. It hooted five or six times, and then flew past my vehicle and landed in a row of trees not far away. I checked with the university about the likelihood of Great Horned Owls scaring away Woodcock, and their response was:  "As for the Great Horned Owl, yes, they will definitely keep woodcock quiet or keep them from an area.  Owls are attracted to singing grounds [display fields] because they can make for an easy meal, the woodcock will react accordingly."

While waiting in the darkness on many evenings, I spotted several species of mammals including White-tailed Deer, Coyote, Red Fox, Raccoon, Opossum, bats, and Groundhog.  All were enjoyable alternative natural experiences.

Cari will earn her Master's degree this summer, and will enter the real world, but I suppose another graduate student will pick up where she leaves off, and if so, we can look forward to more fun finding Woodcock next year.

Post Army Newspaper Article

A few weeks after leaving the US Army a newspaper reporter knocked on our family door and expressed interest in developing an article about my military experiences. (I think my mom but a bug in their ear.) He took a photo, and it appeared along with the article in the Rockford Morning Star edition of 16 June 1969. The headline read, "Peace Symbols, Purple Hearts for Ex-GI."

The reported wanted me to pose holding my medals, but I rejected that notion. Instead he took this photo on the banks of Yellow Creek a few steps from our family home's front door:

And here's the article. (To enlarge, click, then right click and select "view image")

Genealogy and Stuff

Genealogy is something I've always been moderately interested in, but a few years ago I signed up at that one web site--you know which one. I've found some interesting things about my ancestors, but my intent is not to make readers fall asleep; rather, we'll have a picture show of some pretty cool--at least to me--photos of people in my family tree.

The best place to start is with my parents. Here's my mom's senior photo, the one that appeared in Freeport Illinois's yearbook called the Polaris: 

Mary Marler

And my dad around  the same age. Actually I believe this shows him a year younger at 17.

Stanley Hayes

My dad bore a strong resemblance to his older brother, Malvin, who went by Hans. This is his senior photo:

Malvin (Hans) Hayes

My maternal grandmother, Helen Mae Stewart. I think she was around 19 when this was taken:

Helen Mae Stewart

 And jumping back in time a few generations on my mom's side we come to a Civil War veteran--on the Confederate side: James Monroe Davidson and his wife, Prudence Ann Elkins. They are my maternal 2d great grandparents, at least two of them. They were born in 1825 and 1832, respectively.

Jumping back over to the Hayes side, we come to Lemuel Hayes, my great grandfather. He was born in New York in 1826, and was the first Hayes in my line to come to Illinois (along with his married sister and her husband). He was a wagon maker in Galena before buying a plot of land between Lena and Stockton, Illinois and becoming a farmer. He established his farm as a bachelor, but became enamored with his neighbor's daughter when he watched her jump a fence. (Don't laugh; your family has stuff like this, too.) Her name was Mary Mizner, and she's my paternal great grandmother.

Lemuel Hayes

A few branches of my family tree.

Purple Hearts from WWII

I read an article not long ago that indicated that the Purple Heart medals that have been awarded since World War II were created during the war. In 1945 the US military anticipated as many as a million casualties during what they thought would be an eventual and necessary invasion of Japan. Accordingly they created and stockpiled half a million purple hearts. Then when Japan surrendered on 2 September 1945, they were thankfully not needed, and placed in storage.

Over the intervening years the purple hearts that were issued for wounds received in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, and a several other places all came from the stockpile created during World War II. And they still have 120,000 in storage.

Of course that includes the one that was issued to me for wounds received in Vietnam with my name stamped on the back.

Because I questioned the veracity of the article, I conducted my own search, and found the same information in Stars and Stripes, the military's independent newspaper (available online at stripes.com).

http://www.stripes.com/blogs/the-rumor-doctor/the-rumor-doctor-1.104348/are-purple-hearts-from-1945-still-being-awarded-1.116756

My Old Coleman Camp Stove

I've been thinking of making burgers with onions and cheddar cheese in my cast iron skillet on the camp stove out on the deck. So last week I got out my old stove to make sure everything's in working order, and it wouldn't light.

I tried new fuel--same thing. That came as no surprise because I remember a few years ago pulling Dad's old Coleman Camp Stove--like mine--from a shelf in his Pecatonica, Illinois garage where it had been for probably ten years or so, and it fired up "right now," as Dad would have said. I cooked that night's supper on Dad's stove.

Next I figured a spider web had blocked something, but I couldn't find any obstructions. Then I remembered that when I checked for fuel, the o-ring in the generator filler cap fell apart. Maybe too much air was entering the generator, changing the mixture to something less combustible. So today I made a trip to a hardware store with the filler cap in hand, and found a replacement o-ring that fit.

Boom: The stove works again. Not sure whether you can tell, but the right burner is lit. The left works, too. I've had this stove since my sons were little guys. According to the stamped date on the bottom, it was made in October of 1978. 

I don't want one of the newer LP camp stoves. Sure, one has to pump up the generator, but once that's done it will cook meals or make tea or coffee in a campsite for a weekend with no additional fuel. These camp stoves were designed to last, and for .63 cents, the cost of the o-ring, I figure mine is good for another 36-years.

Understrength in Vietnam

My platoon in Vietnam was never full strength. An infantry squad for the times--probably still true today--was eleven men: a squad leader and two rifle teams of five men each. The concept, I believe, emerged from World War II. The squad leader could maneuver his two teams in leap frog order: "Alpha team, lay down a base of fire. Bravo team, move out!" Then Bravo team, once sufficiently advanced, could lay down covering fire while Alpha team moved.

That's the concept, and one we were trained with but didn't use. Why not? Doing so in the jungles and lush tropical vegetation of Vietnam where visibility was limited would have resulted in an increase of casualties, and we already had enough of them.

During the times when we had sufficient visibility and cover (they can't shoot you) and concealment (they can't see you), we conducted fire and maneuver with squads or platoons rather than rifle teams. We didn't even have rifle teams although we sometimes referred to the assistant squad leader as the Alpha Team Leader. That's as close as we came.

Back to the main point: My platoon and squad were never full strength. Rather than the eleven soldiers on the staffing chart, the most we ever had in our squad was eight, and that wasn't for very long. Usually we had around half a dozen. Likewise my platoon was always under strength. Each platoon was composed of four squads plus a platoon leader (lieutenant), platoon sergeant, and a radio-telephone operator (RTO), the guy who carried the lieutenant's radio. Doing the math, that's forty-seven men. The most we ever had during my year in Vietnam was twenty-eight, and we usually operated with fewer. On four occasions we were down to less than ten. Following one prolonged battle we were left with six men standing.

At the time, we felt we were understrength because of draft dodgers. I once read that the huge majority of young men eligible for the draft in the 60s and very early 70s--the draft was suspended in 1972--successfully employed a variety of tactics to dodge it. Be that as it may, we felt that if more guys back home hadn't tried so hard to get out of the draft, we would have had more men in our platoons and squads, which would have resulted in spreading the work load among more men. We would have been a bit less busy and less exhausted. If only. . . .

But I later found out that the reason we remained consistently short handed had nothing to do with draft dodgers. I learned the truth from a university professor with five books about war to his credit and a PHD in military history, which he earned by studying the 25th Infantry Division, the division I served in.

Very simply he explained, "There was not one day during the time the 25th was in Vietnam that they were understrength by a single man. The reason you were so short handed in the field was that the division created additional jobs in the rear and pulled slots from the infantry brigades to fill them."

My mouth dropped open, and you could have knocked me over with a napkin. So it was our own division that was doing it to us! Who would have thought? And I'm sure such shenanigans were not limited to the 25th, but rather I presume that all divisions in Vietnam did the same thing.

It's crazy when you think about it. My division was there to plug a hole caused by the southernmost exit of the Ho Chi Minh Trail into South Vietnam. It funneled North Vietnamese regulars and their equipment and weapons to an area near a town called Tay Ninh where sufficient overhead cover (woods, jungle, rubber plantations) existed so that an army could be massed without observation from above (planes, helicopters), all within a night's march--albeit a long one--of Saigon. The fulfillment of that mission required infantry units, lots of them. But instead of properly staffing the brigades and battalions, etc. that engaged in combat, the higher ranked NCOs and officers in the rear diverted infantrymen to what we called REMF jobs. (I'm not gonna define that just now, but a quick internet search will pull it up.)

Two thoughts come to mind: 1) I'd love to see a list of the positions created in the rear that were so important that we in the field had to go on more ambush patrols, listening posts, pull guard duty or radio watch more often, and lose even more sleep each night than we would have had we been properly staffed, not to mention have enough soldiers to increase our chances of survival when we made contact with enemy forces. And 2) this brings to mind the saying, "We have met the enemy, and he is us." Interestingly, that quote originally came from the Pogo comic strip.

On most days he is covered up with other things and the passage of time but that soldier is still in there. 

Roger Out