|
Along the Bagdad Road
In 1925, when the British Empire was attempting to rule Iraq
young Col. Buttolph commanded the Desert Patrol from Ramadi.
He was a strong, athletic man with no imagination.
He saw his duty, and he did it. There was no pity in him.
The sheiks respected him when he walked into a meeting with 2 hand-bombs
which he juggled as he articulated the rules he would enforce for peace.
He had very little money by British standards, but plenty by Arab standards.
So, he hired 90 of the most desperate, reckless killers he could find.
He gave them a plush life, lots of ease, food, and women -- except
they had to keep the Bagdad Road open and free of tribal attacks.
When an infraction occurred, they rode their racing camels to the spot
and destroyed everything in sight. The devastation was unbelievable,
but the peace that followed was absolute. Everyone understood the rules.
The tribes were free to kill each other elsewhere out in the desert
so long as they did not disturb the tranquility of the Bagdad Road.
It was simple really. “Good men,” Buttolph said with a tight smile.
Slabsides:
The Country Home of John Burroughs
Today, Slabsides is way out in the woods,
hidden off a half dozen woodland lanes.
John Burrough’s country home above the Hudson River
wasn’t any less far out in the woods a hundred years ago
when he invited President Theordore Roosevelt to dinner.
While these two huddled over a rustic table to talk about
the rising fear that first stand timber was being stripped out of the
Adirondacks and what it would take to establish a National Parks Service
to protect America’s vanishing wilderness, the distance between civilization
and that remote cabin in the woods shrank with each word.
What’s really at the center of the world depends
on what’s most dear to the heart.
|