Who Sent That Spoiled Ham Sandwich To Normandy?

 

Why Settle For A Ham Sandwich?
Make It A PUNK Sandwich!
<Ramen Noodle Nation:
https://ramennoodlenation.blogspot.com/2018/06/punk-rock-art-photo-punk-sandwich.html

"Whatever happens, I'd better not see
any fishing boats, trying to sneak up on me..."

Pete Hegseth contemplates future war crimes
on D-Day's 82nd anniversary
(France 24/Facebook)

The dust has barely settled from "Defense Secretary" Pete Hegseth's speech at an American military cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer, France, with the usual disastrous results. Officially, he'd been invited as a US government representative to help mark the anniversary of the Normandy beach landings on June 6, 1944, which marked the first direct blow against Adolf Hitler, and the 1,000-year Reich he so assiduously envisioned. Though Hitler and his sycophants clung fiercely to dreams of "wonder weapons" that would turn around their flagging fortunes, the people that they'd ruled for so long already knew the reality -- the game was up.

Normally, these ceremonies serve as a solemn reminder of the enormous human cost required to pry Hitler's iron grip off continental Europe. For the major players involved, that first day alone resulted in 6,601 US casualties, including 2,501 deaths; 2,700 British casualties, including roughly a thousand deaths; and between 4,000 to 9,000 German troops killed, wounded, or missing.

These figures are separate, and distinct, from the broader battles that raged in and around Normandy, from June 6, through August 1944. Allied forces suffered an estimated 226,000 casualties, including over 73,000 killed, while German losses wound up considerably higher, with 200,000 to 400,000 troops. The fighting also claimed the lives of 14,000 to 20,000 French civilians.

It takes figures like these to appreciate the statistical reality that marked the final phase of World War II, whose last year proved to be its deadliest. But none of these things seemed to interest Hegseth -- whom we'll address, henceforth, by our preferred nickname, "Ham Sandwich" -- who seemed bent on scoring points for his equally unhinged boss, and the xenophobic hobby horse they rode in on:

“Beaches in Spain, Italy, Greece and Bulgaria, boats and men arrive. When will European capitals do something about that invasion, or is it too late? I pray not, and I believe not." 

That "Secretary" Ham Sandwich uses a code word ("invasion") referenced in speeches by the likes of Trump, Texas's whack job Governor, Greg Abbott -- and bygone fellow travelers from other eras, like Enoch Powell, or former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (who opted for the phrase, "rather swamped") -- is hardly accidental. To fellow believers, it signals, "We get you"; to opponents, it threatens, "Wait and see what plans we have for you."

That being said, it's hard to see the linkage between immigration-related issues, and World War II, unless you're a Nazi fan, and view the outcome as unfair to the Third Reich. Then again, given the white power sheen attributed to the tattoos plastered liberally across Ham Sandwich's body, it only seems to fair to ask -- who invited him? 

Because, honestly, allowing an unhinged character of this sort -- one variously accused of alcohol indulgence, stealing funds from veterans' organizations, and sexual harassment, all before Trump's Republican enablers in Congress gave him the job -- is like praying that your drunken uncle won't moon your guests at the wedding ceremony, and finish with his favorite party piece of dropping his pants, as he treats everyone to a sodden rendition of "The Macarena."  (You can read the reviews for yourself below.)

Surely, France could have shut its doors to Ham Sandwich, and said, "Until you behave like an actual, honest-to-goodness human, we find it best that you stay on the beach -- not our beach, on Normandy. Your beach." After all, what did anyone gain from the whole belligerent display, one that also featured tone-deaf, leaden pot shots of this sort:

"Each nation pulled its weight; each nation bled. America will lead — and we must — but capable allies must be right there with us, shoulder to shoulder, in the breach, when it matters."

Coming from a government representative whose leader openly mulls purchasing (Greenland), invading (Cuba, Mexico) or bullying his neighbors (Canada), making a statement of the above sort really takes a great deal of chutzpah, doesn't it? Especially when we ponder that Trump bought his way out of Vietnam, thanks to a friendly doctor who certified him as medically unfit to serve -- even Ham Sandwich, for all his considerable shortcomings, retired from US Army in 2021, following an 18-year career that saw him deployed to Iraq, and Afghanistan.

Still, it's hard to fathom why the Europeans allowed themselves -- once again -- to be used as a punching bag for the Trump regime's pugilistic windmilling, all of it in service to imposing its mindless will on everyone else, democracy be damned; or, failing that goal, relentlessly airing its grievances and pursuing all manner of enemies under every bush and stem, real or imagined.

The reality of that situation makes a mockery of local leaders' pleas to set political differences aside, in the name of a historical gravitas ("It is not that we particularly like the man, but this is first and foremost a commemoration for the veterans") that Ham Sandwich seemed hellbent on undermining through his so-called speech, such as it was. We don't allow the crank at the park to go off on visitors, so why should Ham Sandwich enjoy the same privileges, simply because his name carries a title in front of it?

Or, perhaps, take a different approach. Let him show up, let him do his thing, and run the results on TV -- preferably, with a laugh track inserted at the appropriate moments. Then, at least, we could leave viewers to make up their own minds about whether it's appropriate to allow similar spectacles to take hold in the future.  (Or, we can contemplate a third alternative, similar to how current publishers treat Hitler's literary "masterpiece," Mein Kampf -- run the offending material, but with an extended opposing commentary, to ensure appropriate context.)

But either way, the more we normalize Ham Sandwich, and those like him, the more trouble we invite in the future. Imagine an even more militarist-minded official arriving at some future D-Day commemoration ceremony, complete with a swastika plastered across his face, wearing an Iron Cross necklace in place of the usual tie, and SS-issue, knee-high jackpots, leaving those assembled to murmur among themselves: "Hey, remember when that Yank showed up to bitch us all out? At least didn't look like that. Those were the good old days, eh?"

Conversely, the sooner we stop normalizing the likes of Ham Sandwich, and the petty behavior he displays of an angry teenage boy, still stuck in the act-out stage -- the sooner we can get out from under the shadow of the Trump era, and start the resulting De-Trumpification, just as Europe had to undergo Denazification, to ensure its re-entry back into the family of nations. 

Even so, for all the aggrievement on display, Ham Sandwich's anti-European tirade contained one kernel of truth:

"We forgot that freedom is not free. We forgot that peace is not wished into being. It is bought with purpose, with honor and with strength. The men who landed on these beaches knew this; the question we ask ourselves is, do we?"

Perhaps Ham Sandwich and his cohorts may get to ponder the meaning of that phrase, in full, if -- and when -- the tide finally turns on this madness, and he ends up tried for war crimes of the sort committed against those Caribbean fishing boats, perhaps.

But it's also a fair question that we should never stop asking ourselves, especially as we begin contemplating just what, exactly, should a post-Trump era should look like. Because the men who did pull their weight -- those who died on the beaches, who gave their lives in the struggle against Nazism, instead of spending all their spare time on the I'm-such-a-tough-guy cosplay so beloved among the far right -- expect nothing less. Let us hope that we're up to the task. --The Reckoner


Links To Go (Just Watch The Ghosts
Of Normandy, Turning In Their Graves):

AOL.com: French Villagers Say 
"Non Merci" To Hegseth...:
https://www.aol.com/articles/french-villagers-non-merci-hegseth-015302000.html?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAALNEXeWzlamEiKZTYrjY8nCgLR1ypLXjb8rxszyfardXX5rp6pxoU2pUcrL4PDFGFVxGSf-FasvKC0KZlfsTwhSCt74ZXsmAHdVlEkuckUZ88WnlKUyFxze6mQl-h4Xhr8uIYIeKyEtG9A0woG25Yf2apcTdAyxkDrUI7r5Mkn_X

Steve Ahlquist Substack: "Secretary Of War" Hegseth
Receives Chilly Welcome In Quonset:
https://steveahlquist.substack.com/p/secretary-of-war-hegseth-recieves
(Not about D-Day, but chock full of great photos that sum up the man!)

The Guardian: Pete Hegseth's D-Day Speech
On Immigration Condemned As "Grotesque Stupidity":
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/jun/07/pete-hegseth-d-day-speech-immigration-grotesque-stupidity

<"Punk Sandwich (Reimagined)|"/The Reckoner>

"We're looking for a better world, but what do we see?
Just hatred, poverty, aggression, misery.
So much money spent on war,
When three-quarters of the world is so helplessly poor.

"Major General Despair sits at his desk,
Planning a new mode of attack,
He's quite unconcerned about chance or risk,
The Major General's a hard nut to crack."
<Crass, "Major General Despair,"
Christ: The Album (1982)>

<"Pentagon Pete: The View From Here"/The Reckoner>

Peter Tosh: A Lifetime Of Trick Language

Twenty-five years ago today, Peter Tosh (born Winston Hubert McIntosh, on October 19, 1944) died in mysterious circumstances, after enduring hours of brutal extortion and torture at the hands of three armed men. Depending on which account you read, Tosh's murder was either a robbery attempt that went horribly wrong, or a conspiracy orchestrated at higher levels (stemming from his intention to bid for control of Jamaica's national radio broadcasting network, an angle explored in the documentary Stepping Razor: Red X).

Frequently forgotten, amid all this morbid speculation, is Tosh's keen lyrical wit, and satirical inversions of the English tongue, which he often called “trick language.” I first came across his sensibility in the summer of '81, at a used record store, on the Ball State University campus (Muncie, IN). I was in town for three weeks of journalism and forensic speaking camps, and had a fair bitt of free time on my hands – which meant seeking out the fellow record collectors that I met in my workshops, and making the pilgrimage with them, in quest of those obscure, untamed sounds.

And there, in this hole-in-the-wall shop, is where I picked up Equal Rights (1977), which most commentators have saluted for its re-working of the Wailers' standard, “Get Up, Stand Up” – the only one  to be recorded separately by the group's featured vocalists, Tosh, Bob Marley and Bunny Wailer – and “Stepping Razor.”

However, being an aspiring lyricist myself, I picked up on “Downpressor Man” – versus what you'd normally expect, “Oppressor Man” (“DOWN-pressor” versus “UP”-pressor, right?), and the title track, which is one of Tosh's most enduring anthems (“I don't want no peace/I want equal rights, and justice”). That's an important distinction: what's the point of pacifism, I hear him saying, if you can't speak freely, and get the same treatment as everybody else?

Having discovered reggae that summer – and, honestly, driving my parents, classmates and anybody else in shouting distance crazy, by playing LPs like Babylon By Bus for countless hours – Equal Rights spent a lot of serious needle time on my turntable, as I tried to decode those squiggly rhythms on this horrible cheap bass guitar and amp that I'd only just bought, inspired by the likes of Paul Simonon, Jah Wobble, and the Wailers' Aston Barrett...it made for a lot of frustrating afternoons and evenings, as I asked myself, just how DO they make those sounds, anyhow? Having a soundtrack like Equal Rights didn't seem like a bad start, in my eyes.

Snce Tosh's death, writers have tended to focus on the bad boy image – an easy option, given the photos of this towering dreadlocked rebel, who often played a guitar shaped like an M-16 rifle. It's not hard to easy why any discussion of Tosh's music often seems to begin – and end – with “Legalize It,” his pro-marijuana anthem, or the urban bad boy declarations of “Steppin' Razor” (“If you wanna live, you better treat me good”).

However, there's a wealth of material to be uncovered, for those who want to dig a little deeper – such as on “The Day The Dollar Die,” which finds Tosh at his most impassioned, and eloquent: “I see Johnny with his head hanging down/Wondering how many shillings left in that pound/Cost of living is rising so high/Dollar see that, had a heart attack and die/Bills and budgets awaiting/Finance Minister is anticipating/Unemployment is rising/And I hear my people, they're crying”). Another of my personal favorites -- and one that hardly anybody mentions these days -- is "Fools Die," which is making the Youtube rounds as we speak: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDbicVxyzBY

That's only one example, and that's before we get to Tosh's interviews, which were always a feast for Trick Language Aficionados everywhere – whether in referring to “Boo York Shitty” (New York City), “Chris Whitteworse” (Island Records supremo Chris Blackwell, whom Tosh saw as too eager to promoting Bob Marley as Wailer-in-charge), “Christopher Come-Rob-Us” (Christopher Columbus), “Crime Ministers” (prime ministers), “Damagers” (managers), “Lucifer Son Of Devil” (LSD, not a favored drug in Rasta circles, then or now) “Reducers” (producers), “Shitstem” (system), and many, many more – all evidence of a vivid creative imagination, one that reviewers often (wrongly) dismissed as strident, or overwrought.

Then again, if people didn't get the message, that's understandable. Unlike many of his cohorts, Tosh was unwilling to back off – a posture that nearly cost him his life in 1978, at the hands of a beating from Jamaican police. Compromise adds zeroes to paychecks, especially in the music business, though Tosh's signing to Rolling Stones Records apparently did little to help him reach quite the same superstar heights as Bob Marley.

That being said, Tosh's strange death coincided with one of those mysterious comeback cycles that the Music Biz Gods love to serve up – his final effort, No Nuclear War, would win a Grammy for Best Reggae Album of 1987. If he was watching from a cloudbank somewhere, Tosh would surely have enjoyed the irony – especially after reworking the Chuck Berry standard, “Johnny B. Goode,” to gain airplay for Mama Africa (1983), the last album to appear during his lifetime.

And what would he make of the same Jamaican government that he often roundly condemned as deaf to poor peoples' concerns making plans to award him its Order of Merit?  Time has also apparently caught up with the critics, as well, following the re-issue of Equal Rights and his first solo album, Legalize It (1975), in special deluxe Columbia Records editions. Also in the pipeline is a Tosh bio-pic, directed by his friend, Lee Jaffe, and Oscar-winning director Kevin MacDaniel.

All these developments appear to confirm the wisdom of Tosh's most oft-quoted remarks about songwriting: “Words are not things that should be taken the way they are pronounced, so be careful of the words that you use. Try to define them spiritually within yourself before you use them.” In a time when pop musicians seem to have less and less to say, does this mean that we'll see a new generation of “Intelligent Diplomats,” brandishing an equally militant sensibility? Time will tell. – The Reckoner

RESOURCES:
Jamaica Observer: Young Tosh Reflects On Father's Work
http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/entertainment/young-tosh-reflects-on-father-s-work_12463654

Jamaica Observer: Finding Tosh's M-16
http://www.jamaicaobserver.com/entertainment/tosh-s-famous-m16-guitar-being-kept--br--by-friend_8613195

Peter Tosh Dictionary
http://intelligentdiplomat.free.fr/dictionary.html

Yardflex: This Piece of History (M16 Guitar) Should Be In A Museum - Copeland Forbes
http://www.yardflex.com/archives/000898.html