Memorializing Fallen Soldiers..a day later

On Memorial Day, citizens and institutions, both private and public take time to recognize our fallen heroes. They remember the sacrifices of our soldiers on battlefields known and unknown, missing, dead, and alive. But one set of soldiers always seems to be forgotten year in and year out. Yes, those green men of heroics whose images captivate young boys. The machine gunner, the grenadier, the infantry man, the lookout, the minesweeper, and the guy who looks like he's waving traffic through. You've seen them in Walmart, your local dollar store, and they were even animated for kids' films like Toy Story.

Yes, the Plastic Green Army Brigades (which now include tan, grey, and black plastic figures for different environments, or just to have opposing forces) who have valiantly and selflessly thrown themselves into combat on their leaders' whim, without complaint.

I am reminded of a largely unknown combat zone that took on epic proportions in a battlefield only known to few as "The Dirthill on the Northside". Troops had moved in and taken over a plot of mountainous terrain lovingly referred to as The Pile. With ingenuity and lots of sweat equity, they had overcome the harsh elements of nature and created a few bridges of carefully crafted flat toothpicks, highly developed trenches along ridgelines, a road system, an airfield, and barracks facilities. They had carved out their own little piece of military heaven. But their joy in their creation would soon change to the hell that is war.

Soon a large force was seen camped out a short distance away in the valley below, using vast foliage growth as cover. It started one day with guerilla missions overnight that resulted in carefully placed minefields of small explosives. Coordinated very well, the mountain forces suffered heavy losses, at and inside the perimeter.

Clearly the generals of the Mountain forces could not let this transgression go unanswered. A few reconnaisance runs by older green plastic planes were made to determine the size and strength of the valley forces, followed closely by a bombing run by the newer, state of the art die-cast metal fighter-bombers (purchased at the local hardware store for $7.49 plus tax). Tanks forayed down the main road into the valley below. Troops on both sides prepared for all out war. War would drag on for years, with constant influx of troops on both sides, bolstering their respective numbers. Heavy artillery and air forces began to grow slowly creating more death and destruction as the days, weeks, months and years dragged on. Massive warfare had taken its toll on the Pile, and erosion had been sped up by years, as the rock and silt slowly expanded out into the valley below like a glacier cutting its own path. And then something new happened. A third party, with alien-like technology began to take advantage of the warring parties and systematically began eradicating them.

In the rainy months, attacks would come twice a week, with once a week attacks during the dryer months. Wintertime often brought peace between the two forces of Green Army men, along with the subsding of attacks from the third party. But outside of winter, honorable and well-fought wartime deaths were replaced by screams of agony from multiple men facing decapitation from the third party, leading to slow painful deaths, men being buried alive by the third party's awesome military machine of whirling death.

After many sacrificed their lives to each other as well as the new enemy, the mountain and valley forces joined together to combat this new and formidable foe. And intel was quickly gathered, the Branch Duanians, led by the Evil Duane himself, had unleashed the almost indestructible machine of war known as The Lawnmower. Literally hundreds of plastic green army men gave their lives trying to defeat this evil tyrant and his larger than life Lawnmower. But eventually, these heroes of the plastic army life went down in defeat. No surrender and no retreat as their motto, they fought it out to the death. So as Memorial Day gives way to summertime, I salute these green plastic army men and their valiant efforts to maintain their lifestyle where they were free to blow up, shoot and kill each other like any civilized plastic green army would have done. And secretly, we work toward defeating the Evil Duane and his insidious lawnmower. The Plastic Green Army men will have their revenge again someday.

A New Update From The Colonel

As you can see, I have learned how to take pictures of myself without the bothersome shot showing my arm extended. Also you might want to take notice that I can do all this and more with the use of opposable thumbs, you inferior humanoid ingrates.

I have taken a short bit of time out of my fairly busy day (I am VERY important and all, you know) to update you on how things are progressing in this so-called "Mookified" household.

The Napping economy has suffered slightly as result of increased Random Pscyhotic Moments production. I have personally managed to enlarge the holes in the screen of the young children's bedroom window. I mean really, I have great eyesight (fully equipped with inborn nightvision capabilities), but with so much wire criss-crossing, the view is ruined. And in step with my natural occasional moments of compassion for the people who live here, I thought, "Hey, why not improve their ability to look outside?" So, I did. General Mookie recently replaced the screen door on the slider out to "The Deck". Obviously he is very stupid with his naming privileges. This is clearly a forward observation point and launch post to combat aerial recon missions being flown in by those dastardly birds. It is also where I launch my own recon missions of the upstairs tenets in this compound. They have one sweet mama of a kitty! YOWZA
Currently, I am trying to figure a way to infiltrate this new defense screen, so that my prior activities may again run on schedule unencumbered. I keep getting chased away by the General. One of these days, he and I are going to have a little hand to hand training, and he's going to suffer an accident if you know what I mean.

Nutrient Rich imports are flowing steadily. I am currently in a race with the 10-yr old to see who can deplete the food supply, and the General's money consequently, the fastest. I am still in the recycling business as well, doing my best soldierly duty of maintaining a Green household. I have chewed up the last three days newspapers, so far managing to digest at least 1 1/2 days worth, along with a few random pieces of cardboard. I prefer corrugated over that cereal box business.

Which leads us to our main industrial output sector: Fecal Production. I am pleased to say that we are up 28% over the projections for this month, and 34% over last month, SO FAR (with 17 days left...I'm really excited about this). Must be all that fiber intake fuel used to run this smooth operation. We would put forth press photos, however, due to national security reasons, my advisors have chosen to keep them classified for the time being. My office realizes this only fuels the speculation among conspiracy theorists that there may be a second pooper behind the fuzzy blanket, but rest assured, this is a singular effort.

We will not be taking questions right now, as I have a busy schedule ahead of me today. Lots of napping, kid terrorizing, eating, oh and napping, that needs to be attended to. Thank you, that will be all.

With Regards,
Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell
Feline War Division, Commanding