The other day I read that Air Force pilot Paul Tibbets was charged with naming the plane that would drop the bomb on Hiroshima. So he named it Enola Gay, after his mother. How sweet is that? He had to know that the plane would instantly become famous and synonymous with unspeakable horrors, so it makes you wonder what kind of relationship the two had.
“Hi Mom. I just wiped out a whole city in a plane named in your honor. Seemed fitting. So how’s Dad?”
Naming war things is tricky. It’s not unusual for the name of wars to change. For example, the Persian Gulf War in 1991 changed from Operation Desert Shield to Operation Desert Storm and finally to Operation Nobody Cares Anymore Because Things Aren’t Going Well. Similarly, in 2010 the Obama administration gave Operation Iraqi Freedom a new name to reflect the reduced role of U.S. troops. After consulting with the feminine hygiene products industry they chose the name Operation New Dawn. But now there’s talk of sending in advisers, just like we did at the start in Vietnam. So the “new” war needs a new name.
And Operation Wait This Thing Is Still Going? isn’t gonna cut it.
But Paul Tibbets has given us guidance. If things are to become memorable, you need to incorporate Mom. So the next phase of this never-ending war should definitely be called Operation Barbara Bush.
I’m grateful that my son hasn’t named a nuclear bomb dropping airplane after me. Yet.
This cracked me up: “Hi Mom. I just wiped out a whole city in a plane named in your honor. Seemed fitting. So how’s Dad?”
What Tibbets did shows he realized the importance of the nuclear family.
Bazinga!
Oh that’s your father’s handed down pun gene at work!