Category: The Green Machine
According to multiple reports this week, things got bad on the USS Lincoln. Food was short, supplies were short, the Marines and Sailors aboard the vessel had not been off-ship in months. Things got so bad, it was reported that by the time rescue crews arrived, the Marines had consumed most of the seamen aboard the USS Lincoln.
Okay maybe that last part isn’t true, but things were bad! As of today, the USS Lincoln has just begun its journey back home after a 9 month deployment in support of the ongoing Iran war.
Of course, predictably, this situation immediately became a partisan issue (as with everything these days). The discourse surrounding the situation revolved mostly around whether or not you thought these servicemen and women should just “suck it up” and deal with the burden of being deployed.
I think this is a stupid point of view in 2026–especially as the United States Military remains the most heavily funded (by a factor of many) military on the planet. The idea that we could spend a $1 Trillion on our defense budget and somehow not be able to get a few resupplies to this ship is absurd and an abject failure of leadership at all levels.
If we’re going to be the empire that can project force all over the planet, then let’s be that. However, that means we also don’t get the luxury of excuses when we fall short of taking care of our service members.
Yeah his Dad was that Theodore Roosevelt! Sadly only Terry Allen survived the war as both Patton & Roosevelt died. TR from a heart attack after he was awarded the M.O.H.. Patton died from a car crash. They just don’t build them like they used to! Grumpy
==============================================
Theodore Roosevelt Jr. was never meant to be a distant figure on D-Day. A brigadier general and assistant commander of the 4th Infantry Division, he refused to stay behind. At 56 — older than most men in the invasion — and burdened by severe arthritis and a weakened heart, his superiors urged him not to go. He ignored them.
Roosevelt insisted on landing with the first wave at Utah Beach on June 6, 1944. He believed a leader’s place was not in safety, but beside his men—especially at the moment it mattered most. It was a principle his father had lived by, and one he felt bound to uphold. Cane in hand, he stepped onto the landing craft.
When they hit the shore, nothing went as planned. The troops had landed nearly a mile south of their intended position. Units were scattered. Confusion spread under enemy fire. It could have unraveled quickly. Roosevelt didn’t panic. He took one look at the situation and made a decision that would define the day. “We’ll start the war from right here.”
With that, he moved forward — personally directing troops, reorganizing units, and pushing the assault inland. Amid the chaos, his calm presence became an anchor. Soldiers who recognized him saw not just a general, but a man sharing their risk, standing exactly where they stood. What could have been a disaster became a coordinated advance.
Roosevelt survived the landing. But the cost followed him. Just over a month later, on July 12, 1944, he died of a heart attack in Normandy. The strain of the campaign had been too much. He was awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions on D-Day. Today, he lies buried at the Normandy American Cemetery — beside his younger brother Quentin, who was killed in World War I.
