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33502
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:46:40 PM »
Something else for you knuckleheads, another chapter:

Well, at least the start of it!



CHAPTER 2

13th Tank


Dad drove me to Maguire Air Force Base that sunny day in June, 1976. We had a lot to talk about. I was wearing heavily starched Khakis and fresh set of buck sergeant stripes. I was leaving my home and my country for overseas duty in West Germany for the first time in my life. I was scared and dad knew it, he saw it all over my face and I suspect he also heard it in my voice as we mixed small talk with the serious topics he needed to talk about. I was a young Army tanker; still wet behind the ears, assigned to combat arms, the tough guys. I thought of myself as being just as tough, and ready to fight if called to do so. Many years later, I would look back on those days after having seen another side of being a soldier and smile inwardly.

Dad is one of those incredibly heroic types having flown B17s as a young man of twenty over the very same skies I was now leaving to defend. He showed me his air medals once; I can’t remember how many there were. Then there were the pictures of his airplane, which looked more like something you’d see in a junkyard. One photo showed a tail half shot away, another a propeller feathered in flight, and still others, holes the size of a football in the fuselage. He flew these planes long before he fathered me, and I used to wonder what were the odds were that I should never have been born at all. I could see the lines of stress in Dad’s face, he was sending his son away to a place where armed conflict could break out before he would even read about it. I saw a concerned look on that face I had only seen one or two times before. I burned it in my memory and locked it away. he loved me and didn’t really want me to leave. He hugged me tightly when they called my name to board the contract DC-8 that would carry me to Frankfurt. Fighting back the tears, I hugged him back then turned and walked away. I started to grow as a man that day in a way I had never done before.

Frankfurt was “hello Army” all over again. “Hurry up, move your butt, we don’t have all day,” and so on. We were bussed to some processing center, I was given orders, told to get on a bus and get off when the driver said “Illesheim.” The driver didn’t speak English, so I was pretty sure I was in for a tour, but somehow he found that tiny outpost that looked like something out of a world war two movie, in fact, it was an old Wermarkt army post from the forties. The driver pulled over at the front gate, I got out and retrieved my duffle bag, then bus drove away in a cloud of dust. I looked up to see a sign affixed over a red and white steel gate which said “Stork Barracks, Illesheim.” A specialist met me, asking, “you Harward?” I Nodded in the affirmative, he thrust out his hand, “I’m weeks, throw your bags in, let’s get you to battalion headquarters.” The jeep stopped next to a sign labeled “Thirteenth Tank.” It made me wonder about the previous twelve. This was my new home, First Battalion, Thirteenth Armor, a proud member of the famous First Armor Division, “Old Ironsides.”

The Sergeant major gave me the normal new guy speech and some clerk handed me orders. I was temporarily assigned to Headquarters Company, which apparently needed a sergeant for their vehicle recovery section more so than the tank companies needed another warrior. Weeks took me to my new barracks, dropped me off and wished me good luck with a sarcastic laugh, then drove off. The building had stood there since before World War 2, but had undergone a recent renovation. I hadn’t quite gotten to the front door, still dead tired from all the travel and lugging two heavy duffle bags, when the CQ (charge of quarters) burst out the door. “You the new guy? Great, you’re a sergeant! Hey, your platoon is out of control making way too much noise and partying, I need you to do something about it!”

Imagine my surprise, this guy was telling me to discipline a bunch of folks I had never met, who didn’t know me from a can of oil. What the heck why not just jump in head first, but why didn’t this guy try to do something about it himself? Dad once told me to make a good first impression, so away I went marching down the hall to a double steel door with hard rock music emanating from it. Throwing open the door I stood in the doorway looking through a pall of smoke at the scene before me. The first thing I noticed was the odd scent of the smoke, almost like marijuana, only more acrid, I would later come to know this to be hashish. Nobody was moving, twenty or so eyes were fixed on my six foot three inch figure. Not knowing exactly what to do I suddenly screamed “I’m the new sergeant, what the hell is going on here?” You should have seen it, people started jumping out windows and running about just like they saw a grenade on the floor, and in about 10 seconds, the room was empty. The CQ peered in, muttered, “good work” and walked away.

The next day at the morning formation I recognized the various faces I had seen the night before in that room, most notable of which was my new platoon leader, Lieutenant Cole! He was the one holding the pipe next to the window. This was starting to feel way out of whack, even the officer in charge was into smoking dope. OK, I thought, I’m in big trouble, I definitely don’t fit in and this is some sort of dope addict platoon, what was I doing here? The commander said something about how preparations were going for the upcoming field exercise, then mentioned my name stating the company had a new leader in the recovery section, no one did anything, I was really beginning to feel unwelcome.

I was lucky enough to get a large room with two other non dope-smoking sergeants, Davis and Smith. We were in the minority, being non drug users, and pretty much stayed to ourselves. I spent all my spare time lifting weights, running, and taking college courses after duty hours. Davis drank and Smith whined about not being home when he wasn’t sitting on his bed with headphones on listening to country music. The guys in the recovery section kept their distance also and for a while it seemed like it was going to stay that way.

As fate would have it, one night around one AM, I awoke to the yelling of a couple of infantryman outside my window. They were ticked because someone in my company had short changed them in some hashish sale earlier that night. I opened the window, told them to “at ease, and move out” They didn’t respond exactly how I had expected, instead I heard something with a F and a U, and then another stream of uncomplimentary terms. That was the first time in my life anyone called me a honkey, Something about that language, the lateness of the hour, and being wakened by them just didn’t sit well with me. I threw on my shorts and a fatigue shirt, jumped out the window and walked straight at them.

Now you have to understand something about this. The infantry, (them,) and the Armor,(us,) just didn’t get along on the best of days, and this definitely wasn’t one of those days. Behind me there was a considerable clamor as the windows of my barracks began to open as the CQ started yelling, “fight, fight.” The grunt (infantryman) said something like “what are you going to do,” but didn’t get it all out before I punched him and knocked him out cold. The other guy did a little better but went down pretty quick also. I had wrapped my knuckled hand with a leather belt with one of those bubba sized buckles which, as it turned out was a pretty good striking device!

What happened next would best be explained by watching the marines going ashore during an amphibious landing. There must have been some angry pent up emotions in the participants that night because those buildings either side of the street looked like Omaha beach on D-day. People were pouring onto the street and into the widening fight, well, more accurately, riot . I saw Smith hobbling out on a set of crutches, which was odd because he didn’t use crutches. When I saw him swinging them like Babe Ruth a moment later I realized the brilliance of his design. Davis was yelling out of our window, he was drunk as usual, but it sounded good just the same.

When the MP’s showed up, they showed up with a vengeance, they viewed the whole thing as a huge training opportunity. One of their cars, a Dodge Dart mistakenly pulled right into the fracas and was quickly covered and surrounded by soldiers fighting. I could see several MPs inside with their pistols drawn, pointing them at us through rolled up windows. That car at times had people on the hood, roof, and trunk, it was being covered in dents. The other MP’s who wisely pulled up a safe distance away saw the need to mount a rescue mission to save the foolish ones in the Dodge. They formed a group, then charged the crowd and before long most of the fighting subsided.

Someone with a shiny MP helmet yelled, “all right, all the NCOs over here right now.” Remembering my fatigue shirt had pin on rank, I pulled those stripes off as quick as I could, and apparently so did everyone else, odd how there could be a gathering of upwards of a hundred soldiers and not a single sergeant in sight! Those same eyes that had gazed upon me through a hashish smoke filled room weeks earlier were now staring at me much differently, and at that moment I became one of the “boys.” From that day on, I became known as “Big Don” a nickname that would follow me for over twenty more years. I had earned their respect and became a trusted member of the company.

Those guys in the recovery section taught me a neat trick during the next road march. From time to time, we would scramble out of our little compound and drive those lumbering behemoths across Germany’s excellent system of roads. We would drive at about 25 miles per hour and keep an interval of about one hundred meters between each vehicle, a practice designed to make a marauding fighter’s strafing attack less successful. The Germans weren’t all that enthused by the convoy practice and would make a habit of passing the armored vehicles at every opportunity. Even though it just happened to be their country, we felt an obligation to try to control them and to punish the offenders who dared to interfere. Several practices grew out of that belief. Number one was tank cannon jousting, second was end connectoritis and the third was the test by fire. I knew about the first two but my guys decided to show me all about technique number three.

to be continued, maybe 

33503
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:45:28 PM »
Originally Posted by Armalite View Post
Great write up Don, as usual. Very good stories there. Only the bad part is now I want to read the whole book!!


I haven't finished it,
in fact
I'm not working on it!

One of my publishers, following "distant Thunder" which as you know jumps all over the place dealing mostly with the war(s), wanted me to write a biographical story, for those who might be interested.
I just don't see myself as being interesting and after 50 or so pages just quit writing. As you can see, I was focusing on the funny stuff I saw along the way, but, I'm just not into writing about me.
Unfortunately, when doing that sort of work, you can't help it!
Anyway, someday, I'll finish all of that but in the meanwhile I was working on two other projects.
I wanted to write a survival book, from the military perspective. Where there is as much emphasis on surviving a home invasion or gun fight as there is in purifying water or starting a fire. I wanted to deal heavily with some of the more military skillsets that "survivor man" does not go into. I don't care how good you are at trapping game, if a bunch of lawless bikers is threatening you, it's game over unless you know your stuff!
The other work I wanted to do is about my personal Christian walk. It has been an amazing one and the stuff that has happened would encourage many and prove to the doubting Thomas's out there that God is very real and very much an instant part of your life. Not like someone who after days of searching in the wilderness, finally hears your calls...
I have a lot more good stuff from that first book, if you boneheads want to read more, you only have to ask.

33504
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:44:39 PM »
...And the rest of the story, well at least the chapter!



Others in the company were, from time to time drawn into the zeal for “additional training.” Smitty, with his southern draw and slow measured mannerisms even participated in some daring escapades. I believe he was the culprit who put the first round into the bridge during the mad minute gunnery, although I could never prove it, and all he would do is smile when asked about it. On the north end of the basic driving range, near the deceased sassafras tree was a natural pond. Constantly filled with muddy water running off from the mud on the basic driving course, the pond was a point of interest to our weekend four wheeling group. We wondered about two things, if it had any fish, and how deep it was. On occasion we had ventured out a few feet into it with our jeeps or on foot, but that was about it. Up to this point we were satisfied to leave it alone, at least most of us were.

Smitty called me on the radio to meet him discreet, or tune to our secret frequency. We met there and were soon joined by Eddie and Doug. “what’s up guys?” a curious voice asked. Smitty said something about meeting him at the pond. Away we went, three other tanks moving out of eyesight toward the north. We arrived to see Smitty pulled a few feet into the pond, just sitting there idling. “What’s up,” Doug asked. Smitty replied that he could cross the pond and wanted us to watch. Something didn’t look right, the angle of the tank suggested the bank was steeper than normal, but Smitty dismissed it saying he thought they had just sunk a little in the soft mud. His driver was buttoned up and they had pumped up the turret ring boot, which is an air filled rubber seal placed around the turret to keep water from entering if you got in too deep.

I just didn’t feel right about the whole thing and for once expressed my reservations. Doug backed me up and Eddie remained silent. Smitty called us some cowardly name and started forward. We all watched as he went in ever deeper and deeper, and deeper until the water was abouthalf way up the turret! Remarkably, the vehicle was still moving forward like some giant whale, until they got to the middle of the pond. The two or so feet of exposed turret once again assumed the nose down angle callowing water to begin pouring into the loader’s hatch! Smitty was barking commands into the headset, probably “Stop, or back up,” but they didn’t. With very little of the tank showing showing above the waterline the engine died and the doomed tank stopped. We watched as one by one, the crewmembers climbed onto the top of the turret standing in water with that hopeless look on their faces. We knew this was going to be a very bad thing. Our commander, first sergeant and platoon sergeant were ususlly very supportative of our little deviations from normal procedure. But to loose an entire US Army tank, no sir, this was not going to be received very well at all.

Working with recruit drivers, we tank commanders could get away with quite a bit, but this one was surely going to be a little hard to explain. The next day, a recovery crew, aided by some divers did manage to pull the stricken tank out of the water Lucky for us, our company had a great reputation which consistently produced the best graduates, so the punishment was not too severe and life went on. Privately, at a dinner for cadre, we awarded Smitty the Navy’s Submariner badge for underwater heroism!

All the while I was living in Delta company I was pursuing my dream of becoming an Army Aviator. The application process is a long one, probably designed so to weed out those without perseverance. It was very frustrating for me to try to arrange the various tests, flight physical, and interviews required to be submitted in packet form to Department of the Army. My greatest frustration was with the fact that the flight physical was only good for six months. Following the physical, something would go wrong, get lost, or conflict with my day job, and the six months would expire. This continued almost the entire time I lived at Fort Knox. Finally, it started to depress me and that reflected in my attitude.

I had been doing a good job, and all the drill sergeants and top were growing fond of me. They were all beginning to say it was time for me to go to the Drill Sergeant Academy, a school which would lock me into several more years of being a sergeant and pushing troops through the training machine. My heart was simply not in it. I wanted to fly. First Sergeant Whitt noticed the subtle change in attitude and called me in for a “visit” one afternoon. He began, stating how pleased he and the others were with me, despite blown up bridges, shot up sleeping bags and other things he suspected I had a hand in. He expressed his feelings about my career, “Sergeant Harward, I feel it is time for you to become a Drill Sergeant.” He must have expected happiness on my part, but I just answered, “OK top.”

He pried a little, “I thought you would have been happy hearing that, and I’ve noticed a slight change in your attitude, is there something troubling you?” I had never told anyone about my quest to become a pilot, fearing they would cast me out thinking I was going to be one of “them,” an officer. For the most part, the armor corps is populated by second lieutenants, young officers that are placed in charge, but know practically nothing about being a soldier. The stigma of the second lieutenants cast a shadow on officers as a whole as far as NCOs are concerned and I just wanted to avoid the whole subject. I slowly told top how I wanted to be a pilot, about my father, the Warrant Officers in Germany, the Cobras, and my dream of flying some day. He listened intently and what he did next changed my life.

“OK, Harward, I understand, I never knew you wanted to be a pilot, from this day on you are off of the training schedule. You are to complete your application for flight school and come back only after you have submitted it, just check in daily to let me know where you are.” I just couldn’t believe what I had just heard. First Sergeant Benjamin Whitt had just given me my golden opportunity! Through the compassion of this wonderful man I was going to get my shot at the dream that I just could not shake.

Now that I had plenty of time to get everything done I was able to reschedule the class one flight physical and set up an interview with a field grade aviator. I had taken the physical before and felt I would pass, however that little hurtle was responsible for removing more applicants than any of the other steps in the process. The test went well, and again, like the last time I had a hard time driving home with totally dilated pupils. The only obstacle remaining after a couple weeks was the interview with a field grade aviator. Fort Knox had a general support aviation company with a Major in command, bingo, a field grade aviator. I requested and was granted permission for the interview the following Monday.

My uniform was perfect. A new set of heavily starched fatigues spit shined jump boots, and a white wall hair cut. I could have made an Army recruiting poster. I had practiced interviewing with the Sergeants of the company and with a couple of officers also, I was tuned, manicured and wired for sound. The interview was set for 0900, I arrived thirty minutes early. Waiting outside the commanders office, I was in the midst of the mysterious ones, the Warrant Officers. When I entered the room, they stopped talking and watched me as I crossed to the commander’s secretary’s desk. It felt like a scene from some John Wayne movie. You know, the scene where the sheriff throws open the saloon doors, and everyone stops talking, waiting for the gunfight. That was the scene in that room on that day. It continued when one of the moustached ones with a CW2 bar on his collar asked if I was the new pilot. The others started laughing, I got scared and there we were. I had heard rumors of how hard flight school was and how ruthless these Warrants could be, so I just tried to be as non threatening as possible I guess this was a short preview of what the future might hold if I ever made it to train in helicopters.

A few minutes before nine, the Major summoned me to his office. I reported, saluting sharply, he returned the salute and I snapped back to attention. He smiled, told me to “at ease,” a command which formally means place your feet shoulder width apart, place your hands behind your back and more or less rest in position. He actually meant “take it easy, relax, take a break, chill out!.” He motioned me into a stuffed chair to the side of his desk. I noted it would be very difficult to sit at attention in that chair, but I tried. The Major was friendly, something I had not expected. The last Major I had known was known as “mad dog” behind his back, never to his face, he was a man to be feared. If you were doing anything, good or bad, he’d reem you for something. “Soldier, don’t just stand there, move out!” or “Soldier, get your but over here and clean this up,” or one of a thousand other little nasty treats, no that guy was strictly see and avoid! This Major was very different indeed. Was this how it was going to be for me in this new flying world? Could it be possible that there was a part of the Army where people were happy and enjoyed their lives?

Observing my rigid seated posture, he told me to please lighten up before I injured myself, then laughed saying, “well, you’ll do fine during WOC D, but can he fly?” WOC D is the warrant Officer equivalent to Officer’s Candidate School, renowned for being super tough and weeding out over half of everyone that showed up. I would soon learn that reputation was well deserved. He began by asking me to tell him about myself, then, asked some questions concerning becoming an officer and flying. We finished by sharing some of my father’s flying stories and a few of his. He told me I would get my recommendation and likely a shot at my dream of becoming a pilot!

Within a week of that pleasant interview, I turned the carefully completed packet in to another Warrant Officer in the Military Personnel office. He smiled at me, shook my hand and wished me luck. I finished the process just days before my birthday in April, then returned to duty as an instructor at D-3-1. I came back full of anticipation and very motivated, in top’s words, “full of piss and vinegar.” I don’t know what that means, but apparently I fit the mold.

Life slowly returned to the normal routine over the next few weeks. Initially, the other sergeants joked around with me making sport of the fact I was going to become a “wobbly one” which is what new Warrant Officers or W1s are sometimes called. Sometimes they jokingly saluted me. But as with everything in life, time heals all wounds and by early July the flight school quest had been all but forgotten. One late afternoon in the middle of that hot month, top called a meeting in his office after work. I had to attend to a late chore sergeant Williams had given me, but rushed to top’s office as soon as I finished.

Everyone was there, even the officers and I felt bad I couldn’t have shown more respect by being there on time. Upon arriving I was motioned forward, I noticed all eyes were on me. Top began speaking, telling me he had some bad news for the company, he stated we were losing a member of the team, and how the loss would be felt by all. My friends were smiling as the commander stood and called “attention to orders.” Upon hearing those words a soldier will assume the position of attention and not move while the orders are read. He began, “Sergeant Donald L Harward is ordered to attend initial entry rotary wing flight training at the Fort Rucker, Alabama and the Army Aviation center, class number 80-9, reporting 1 September, 1979.” I could hardly believe my ears. Top took the orders, then slowly handed them to me. He took one step backward, then rendered a salute, everyone then saluted me. They were acknowledging the fact that I was to become an officer, I was humbled beyond what mere words can describe. These honored veterans and patriotic Americans were saluting me. I made a promise to myself to make them proud that one from their ranks would become an Army aviator. I have seldom been so honored!

33505
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:43:50 PM »
And the story continues...


The mischief we tank commanders had learned from our previous assignments was honed to a fine edge while stationed at Knox. We would provide plenty of amusement for the safety nazi and others. One favorite trick was to blow up the bridge down range during a “mad minute”. The “mad minute” lasts about that long. It occurs when every tank on the range fires as fast as it can, usually to get rid of excess ammunition. The mass confusion created by eight main guns hammering out rounds provides the perfect cover for some “precision gunnery.”

The tank range in question had an access road located just outside the range boundaries. The road crossed a stream about half a mile from the firing line. The engineers had constructed a timber frame bridge across the stream big enough for a normal sized pickup truck. The bridge was used for routine range maintenance by engineer types and some of our folks. That bridge was a well sought after prize and had suffered accordingly over the years. There were always threats to our careers should someone accidentally shoot outside the range fan and damage the bridge. I wasn’t the only tank commander after that bridge that day.

The trick was not in hitting the bridge; it was not being seen while sighting the structure in or when actually shooting it. The main gun can be laid on any target selected, then precise measurements taken of its exact position recorded. The idea is to be able to point the main gun during low visibility based on these precise measurements and hit the target even if you couldn’t see it. The technique was effective and was a common skill amongst tankers. The system worked pretty well, so we would use things like bridges to train the recruits how to take and record the measurements.

During one such mad minute, I knew several other Tank Commanders intended to shoot the bridge. I picked my favorite recruit to be the last guy firing that night. He was the very soldier who had sighted in the bridge in the first place. When the time came and all the tanks opened up, we carefully laid the gun. Peering through the night sight, it looked like we had it, then “Boom,” the bridge took a hit from someone else. I ordered the gunner to fire and we quickly put two rounds into it. We moved the gun back onto the range and fired the balance of our rounds at legitimate targets. Before we finished, there was a brilliant blossom of flame as something blew up on the moving target side of the range. The moving targets were towed around by small gasoline powered remote control trains, and one had just been blown to pieces. Man, this night was really shaping up to be a good one. The safety nazi, as expected, called a cease-fire, and ordered everyone to leave the gun tubes exactly where they were presently pointed. The radio must have been garbled in every tank on the range that night, because when the lights came on, every gun tube was elevated as high as it would go!

The best part of the evening was yet to come. The range safety officer and someone else got into the truck and took off down range to try to fight the fire. They made it about half the way there when they happened on to the place where the bridge once stood. Yep, we had finished it off very nicely, thank you and no one was going to cross that stream anytime that night. Tank Commanders and recruits alike climbed up on the turrets and watched the spectacle for quite awhile as the fire department tried to get to the fire, I don’t think they ever did. Someone ought to build a better bridge!

Despite all the fun we would enjoy on the ranges, there were serious times also. We discovered a flaw in the method we used to train our recruits to unload and clear machine guns the hard way. Ed Kovacheck would pay a heavy price learning about that error. We were in the move-out phase of gunnery, and we were shooting the coaxial machine gun only. I had taught Doug on this same range about back scratching a few days earlier. Ed was running troops down range along with Smitty, Doug, and I that day, and things were going smoothly. Ed had just completed a run and was displaying the green flag as he drove off the range and pulled into the ammo pits where he would pick up a new crew and restock the machine gun ammunition. Smitty and I were off the range eating lunch as Ed’s tank pulled to a stop. He sprang out of the turret, walked down the side of the vehicle, and crossed the back deck. We watched as Ed suddenly rolled up into a ball and fell off the deck onto the ground. Incredibly, the machine gun was firing! Ed had been shot by his own tank, by his own crew! It seemed surreal, everything was happening in slow motion. I reached him first, bright red blood was coming out between his fingers which were clasped over his leg. He was cussing his bad luck more disappointed than scared. We quickly saw he had taken one round right through the thigh, and judging by the rate he was loosing blood, we thought the bullet had severed an artery or a vein. We applied pressure, and got a tourniquet on in a couple minutes. We held him still until the ambulance arrived which seemed to take too long. Some of us climbed in the ambulance and went to the hospital with him.

The injury looked a lot worse than it actually was. Lucky for Ed the bullet, had passed cleanly through the large part of the muscle making a 7.62 millimeter hole in either side of his leg. The ammunition the military uses is designed not to do very much damage to the body, but rather to have good penetration characteristics. Those traits allow it to dig into fortifications that bad guys might be hiding behind. The bullets are designed to maintain shape, having a shell of copper around a lead core. The construction of the bullet meant the round would simply pass easily through the tissue in the leg without doing any unnecessary damage. The accident bought Ed a couple weeks off from work and a well-deserved rest.

The young trainee came out of the hatch unaware of what had just happened. He knew the gun had gone off, and feared the wrath of the Sergeants more than anything, but had no idea he had just done what no Viet Cong had ever been able to do. The investigation revealed the fault lied with us, not the new recruit. We had trained the soldiers well how to unload and to clear the weapon; the problem was we never started with a loaded one. The exercise started with the trainee first loading a small belt of dummy ammo into the weapon. From there, he would proceed to remove the belt, clear the chamber, and place the safety on. This particular soldier thought you first had to load the weapon before you could clear it! Ed told him to clear all weapons just before hopping out. The trainee did just as we had taught him. He placed the belt of live ammunition into the opened feed tray, and then slapped it closed. Machine guns will sometimes discharge when the cover is closed to quickly, and this one did. It fired off five to ten rounds before stopping; all at the exact instant, Ed was in front of the barrel!

That particular gunnery cycle was a very active one for the instructors and drill sergeants of the company. Normally we lost about a quarter of the trainees during the basic training phase. For one reason or another, but this class was well above average. We had most of the recruits still in the ranks, having only lost perhaps ten to twelve soldiers. That meant the gunnery qualifications were going into overtime. We were working so hard and fast, the tanks were turning over crews and running back and forth on the range almost without stop. With all the extra traffic on those gravel tank roads, the damage to the range itself was considerable. Just to keep everything going the range people, who were not a part of our organization called for engineer support to repair the roads in between firing tables. The help they requested was in the form of a bull dozer. Fate was working against me, the bull dozer operator was the same guy from the garbage dump!

It took him about one millisecond to recognize me and one more to rekindle his anger over the day we “trained” in the garbage dump. There were words exchanged, but we managed to avoid one another, well until lunch. The conversation between the other tankers and the dozer guy started with the normal comment about “Hey, where’s the gun tube, you sure have one ugly tank,” and “What about it, you weren’t smart enough to get into tanks?” I said something about how underpowered and slow the bull dozer was, a comment I was very soon to regret. He countered stating that he could drag a tank all over the range if it were hooked to his dozer, we all disagreed, so we decided to test his theory. Everyone was into this Herculean test of power, so I was volunteered to champion the tank crews.

We pulled up, back end to back end and hooked up two, 2 inch steel recovery cables, used for pulling other stuck tanks out of the mud and fired up our respective steeds. That dozer was a huge D-something made by Caterpillar corporation, that I thought weighed approximately the same as my fifty tons. With the engines started we eased into low gear and idled out until the cables were tight. With the drop of an arm the tug of war started. I am sure the tank did not move the dozer one half inch. We actually were spinning both tracks and not moving, then with a lurch, we started to go backward. Judging from the exhaust plume from the dozer’s diesel, he wasn’t even pulling all that hard. We tried everything including locking the brakes, doing so would only stop the track movement, but not affect our increasing rearward speed. The driver reported that out transmission oil temperature was increasing so I called to halt the operation. The request fell on deaf ears. We just kept going backward. Finally we had to place the transmission in neutral while that dozer driver made a triumphant circle of the whole range firing area in full view of everyone. Amidst boos and down turned thumbs, I had to ride there in humiliation in the cupola of that tank in front of every drill sergeant, tank commander, and recruit on the range that day. The thought of shooting him with the cannon crossed my mind, but it was too late, I’d been had. I am now convinced that one of those Cats can drive straight through a mountain without stopping!

We often took other opportunities to “blow off steam” created by the long hours and frustrations of working with recruits. Some drank, some spent time with family and friends, I enjoyed long distance running and casual rides to and from work on my motorcycle. It was a jewel at that time, a black seven fifty Suzuki with a loud exhaust pipe and custom seat. By today’s standards it would have made a great lawn mower engine, buy in 1978 it was the cat’s meow!

One day after work I cranked the thing up and took off. Just down the hill just after a stop light and left turn there was a long straight away which was incorrectly marked with a 35 mile per hour speed limit. That speed equaled somewhere in the middle of first gear in a five speed gearbox. It felt good holding the throttle wide open all the way to the top of third, probably around eighty. My luck had been good, but not that day. The MP was sitting on the side of the road running radar. It must have read “tilt” or simply melted down when viewing me. I knew that MP was going to enjoy this catch, and I was definitely going to a room made with steel bars, so I went for it!

Braking hard, I turned off the main road with the blue lights and siren right behind me. The Army in all it’s brilliance had equipped the MPs with those same hopelessly under-powered Dodge Darts. My bike made short work of the Dodge, easily out distancing the MP’s. I rode quickly back toward the company I had just left. My buddies were standing there near the curb when I raced up to them. They were listening as I went through the first three gears a few minutes before, then heard a siren and me running at full speed. They put the rest together. When I stopped you could now hear several sirens headed our way. Smitty said “what are you doing back here?” “Open the door to the barracks, I’m driving inside.” A couple other sergeants quickly vetoed that idea and told me to get to the tank trail and take it off post. I watched as Smitty pulled his F250 across both lanes of the road behind me, get out and throw open his hood. He was pretending to be broken down, he yelled at me, “get out of here, now!” I didn’t waste any time, I headed straight for the tank trail.

Looking over my shoulder as I crested the hill above the battalion area, I could see a MP slowing as he approached Smitty’s truck. I hit that tank road and opened that Suzuki up. I hadn’t crossed a mile when I came upon a troop formation marching on either side of the road. They were new recruits in the basic training phase of their life. The maximum speed to drive past marching troops on the road was ten miles per hour. My speedometer said something in excess of ten times that. If I attempted a panic stop I would likely have lost control of the bike and hurt myself or them. I rolled off the gas and “coasted” through that formation in excess of ninety. Well, if they caught me now I was surely going to be drawn and quartered, so I truly had nothing to loose. Those six cylinder, ninety horsepower Darts never had a chance of catching me. I reached an off post access road and was home free. You can bet I drove at exactly the speed limit until the bike and I were safely at my house. I parked it around back and went inside leaving the lights off. I never heard a thing about it, except for some well thought out words by Sergeant Williams the next day.

To be continued...

33506
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:43:02 PM »
The story continues...



We couldn’t believe the day a school bus showed up at the driving range from a local public school. They were elementary students (who love to play in mud) and several teachers. We were asked to demonstrate the agility of the machine, which we did to the delight of the children and teachers alike. After the demonstration a petite lady asked if the teachers could get a ride. I nodded in the affirmative; dismounted and helped the ladies onto the fenders. The trainee driver got out and an experienced tank commander got in to drive. We drove away slowly, careful not to offend our precious cargo. While driving near a woodpile, the strangest thing happened. A crazed skunk, probably frightened half to death by the noise and vibration, dashed out of the woodpile and straight toward us! Before we could do anything, it ran right under the track! Everyone saw it, it was horrible, poor little thing, then came the smell, oppressive smell, over powering smell. I could see one of the ladies was about to loose it, so we sped up considerably heading back to drop them off. Remember before when I mentioned the rooster tails of mud created by fast driving. We were making two grand fountains of mud spray, most of it contaminated with the remains of skunk, and some of it was landing right on the ladies. I can’t begin to describe how those ladies felt. They were frightened, getting mud all over them and they smelled of squashed skunk! No kidding, it really happened! When we drove up to where the busses were, their tour guide, a new second Lieutenant covered his nose as the smell swept over him. We all did the best damage control we could but it was a disaster! The teachers and kids left quickly and we drove directly to the water obstacle where we left the tank parked most of the afternoon submerged up to it’s turret.

We spent a lot of time shooting the main gun. The trainees would start with a stationary vehicle, engaging various single targets then later graduate to firing at moving or multiple targets. There were extraordinary safety measures in place to mitigate the considerable danger. The firing line would shut down while troops were walking anywhere near by. This was necessary since the muzzle blast from a cannon can kill or seriously injure. The Tanks were actually chocked in place to prevent the hammering of the main gun from pushing the tank backward. Early in the gunnery training, only one tank would fire at a time. That tank would display a red flag and turn on a red light on the back of the turret to visually indicate that vehicle was “hot”.

Doug and I were parked side-by-side about six inches apart. He and I were alternating firing, pushing the trainees through as quickly and as efficiently as we could. My gunner had just completed his firing tables, an engagement of sixteen targets. He had done well. Following the shoot, we would fill out a grade card, hand it back to the student, then he would leave, and a new guy would climb on board. Looking to my right, I could see Doug’s helmet moving inside the copula. A quick glance at his green flag confirmed the coast was clear; I pulled down my red flag, replaced it with green, then took off my helmet and pulled out the earplugs. Wearing that helmet for hours was giving me a headache and I needed a break. I just started to fill out the card when there was a blinding flash, everything was moving, there was dust in my eyes, but oddly enough, I didn’t hear a thing.

I must have looked drunk, because when I finally looked up Doug was staring at me from his tank. His expression said it all, something was very wrong. My eyes then focused on Sergeant First Class Ed Kovacheck who was holding onto my shoulders. His mouth was moving as was Doug’s, but I couldn’t hear a thing. That’s when it hit me, the flash, the dust, another tank must have fired and I must be, oh my God, I’m deaf! Ed was another one of those combat hardened soldiers who carried the same expression almost all the time. The face he was wearing then was different, concerned, but not trying to alarm me. My nose was running, I wiped with my hand and it came away red.

That incident earned me a trip to the hospital, where they wrote of lost hearing, broken blood vessels, cuts and the like, and gave me several weeks off to convalesce. My hearing slowly came back over those weeks but a ringing still persists to this day.

It wasn’t only humans that had occasional problems with cannons firing or exploding shells. Wildlife native to that part of Kentucky couldn’t read the danger signs or failed to heed the many calls over the loud speaker, asking, “Is there anyone down range? Is there any one down range?” Despite our best efforts, deer, turkey, ducks, geese, foxes, and skunks roamed about as if they owned the place. Night time was the most difficult time for us to spot a critter in our line of fire. If we were lucky enough to spot an offending animal, we would clear our weapons, and call a cease-fire. Usually the safety nazi showed up in a four-wheel drive and ran the animal off prior to commencing gunnery once again. Despite our instinct to shoot and break things, no one would harm an animal on purpose, lest he bring the anger of the other soldiers upon himself. German trucks were one thing, but wildlife had a right to exist.

Then came the incredible smoking deer incident! It was on Yano tank range, no doubt named for a Mr. Yano who through a combat misfortune, no longer walks the earth. I was moving slowly along a gravel road using night vision devices. The trainee had to successfully negotiate several difficult night engagements to pass this phase of training. The tank commanders were doing their best to find the targets, then lay the gun as close as possible to aid the gunner in acquiring the target. We got the call, “one two, there are three enemy tanks your twelve o’clock, you are cleared to engage.” Through the night vision goggles, I could see three plywood silhouettes coming up about one thousand yards directly ahead. I laid the gun as quickly as possible, traversing the turret rapidly, then allowing the turret brake to stop the swing with a protesting groan while yelling the command “Gunner, battle sight, three tanks.” I heard an “identified,” and an, “up.” This crew was working well, I commanded “Fire.” The shooting went fast and well. The first two rounds went right through the targets, the third was just loaded, the gunner was moving the turret slightly to the right, and I knew in about a second I would hear, “On the way.” Upon hearing that phrase, the tank commander closes his eyes momentarily to avoid being blinded, especially at night, then as the tank finishes recoiling, reopens his eyes to observe where the round went relative to the target. If it goes high, then you would state, “Drop one target form, fire,” and so on. But, I had seen something in the fading light from the last shot.

The red flag was up in my mind, something wasn’t right, I yelled, “Cease fire, cease fire.” Looking around I couldn’t see anything, I ordered the driver to turn on the headlights, the sign to the tower that something abnormal was happening. The instant the lights came on I saw it. Standing along the side of the road was a deer, and it was literally, smoking. It’s hair had probably been singed by the blast and fire ball of the main gun. Remember the cartoons where a bomb goes off in the coyote’s hand, then you see him charred black and smoking, well that’s what that deer looked like. It wasn’t moving, just standing there staring straight ahead. I called the tower, told them there was a smoking deer in the road, they asked me if we could continue? I emphasized, the poor animal was literally smoking, and still standing upright. I was considering using a fire extinguisher on it. There was a moment of silence on the radio, then the voice of the safety nazi and laughter in the background. “Did you say it’s standing up and smoking, like on fire, smoking?” “Affirmative, and not moving.” While they processed that I asked for the fire extinguisher just in case the poor deer suddenly burst into flames. I commanded the driver to pull forward slowly toward the deer in hopes he would indicate a life sign and scurry off.

The driver did so very slowly, displaying as little hostility as is possible from a small steel hill that belches fire. We pulled right up to it, and the deer still wouldn’t move. Traversing the gun tube slowly, I gently pushed the animal with the muzzle of the main gun, the deer moved, but only when pushed. It looked as though it was in a drunken stupor. By pulling back, then forward, and pushing with the main gun we managed to move it about fifty feet off the road, to what I thought was a safe distance. That poor deer must have been casually watching us approach, when, all of a sudden the gun went off and enveloped the animal in flames. He was definitely having a bad hair day!


To be continued...

33507
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:42:03 PM »
Another chapter from another book:

OK, I can't just write the smoking deer story. It is a part of a chapter in another book I am writing. So I'll have to share the whole stinkin chapter. So we'll do it a few pages at a time. Chew away on this and I'll get more on in the morrow

Enjoy (or not??

CHAPTER 3

D-3-1

Fort Know is the US Army’s Armor center and school. Following an assignment in Germany, it was normal for an aspiring tanker to serve one assignment at the Armor School to pass on your experiences, and to grow professionally to the next level. This was the place where most of the training main gun ammunition purchased by the Army was going, so this was the only place to be if you enjoyed shooting cannons and breaking things.

I was further assigned to D Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Training Brigade. I was just what they wanted, a young, in shape, single, warrior spirit filled, killing machine. The day I reported in was one filled with anticipation, coming from Charlie Company and the likes of First Sergeant Tucker, and Captain Miller, could this place possibly match up? My question began to be answered the moment I knocked on top’s door and walked in. First Sergeant Benjamin Whitt was a kind man, you could see it in his eyes. He stood to greet me, shook my hand firmly and asked me to sit down. His desk was adorned with pictures of his family. Later I would learn that one of his children had a serious illness and the Army had stabilized his assignment at Fort Knox so the child could receive the necessary care. His smile was genuine and I would soon come to know him as an honest and caring man.

My Platoon Sergeant, Sergeant First Class Williams was leaning against the back wall of the office. He wore the campaign hat of a drill Sergeant and the same warm smile. He too, in turn, introduced himself then went back to the leaning position as Top talked about the Company. We were an OSUT company, meaning “one station unit training, a new concept for the Army. New recruits would report to the company and go through the normal basic training routine for about four weeks. Afterward, they would enter a second phase of almost ten weeks of intensive armor or tank training. That was my piece; teach them the art of war fighting, using the M60A1 battle tank. The normal routine was for someone like myself to teach with the tanks for two years, then go to the Drill Sergeant Academy, then be stabilized as a drill instructor for three more years. Being in one spot for five years in combat arms is unheard of, so many family oriented soldiers sought out the assignment. I was having an internal struggle. one part of me wanted to teach the Armor skills, but another sought the blue skies as an Army pilot, I’d get both from this place.

Sergeant Williams was a hands off sort of guy. He expected me to show up, run my classes as scheduled and that’s about it. He shouldered the responsibility for showing up at 0430 every morning to get the troops up, although I offered to help, he never expected me to do it. Once the troops were finished with morning PT, showers, and breakfast, he would march them to the training site, where I would take over.

I had never dealt with new recruits before. Some were wild, most were scared, and then there were the lonely ones. You had to watch over the latter very closely, we had several suicide attempts every class or cycle. The most common technique was to jump off the building. Top was all over that one; he had planted a large flowerbed with literally tons of sphagnum moss and mulch. No one ever died jumping into his flower beds, the worst injury was a sprained ankle and several dead flowers. Top did have a mean streak in him when someone killed one of his flowers! There were other techniques those kids used, but none worse than the kid who poured liquid Drano into his ear!

The first time the new recruits ever saw the M60 was on a gunnery range. The set-up was awesome. There were a bleachers positioned near to the firing pads. The tank was concealed down the hill in trees where no one could see it. The veteran tank commanders manned the vehicle and were well practiced in it’s use. The speaker, normally the drill sergeant, would go on for some time about how awesome the tank was and then on command the tower would call us, cleared to engage. Down range was a multitude of old armored targets, plastic troop silhouettes. And hundreds of balloons. We would load a sabot round, drive up the hill, then just as the muzzle passed the forward row of bleachers, we’d open fire. The blast from the main gun normally swept a dozen or more troops right out of their seats. The Tank commander would fire the .50 caliber machine gun as the gunner alternated between the main gun and the turret coaxially mounted machine gun. During the spectacle, we would loft several rounds of white phosphorous, which would explode in brilliant white clouds of smoke and fire. Once we had achieved the desired effect, we’d turn to the balloons and fire a beehive round. That little beauty was filled with hundreds of nail-like fleshetts, fused to detonate about a hundred meters prior to the target, which were always troops in the open. We replaced the normal command, “Gunner, Beehive, Troops,” with, “Troops, nail em.” That last Beehive round would do away with any remaining balloons, but if there were some then we’d shoot them with another white phosphorous round. Then as quickly as we’d shown up, we would quickly drive away leaving everything burning, what a show!

Since the tank commanders were expected to prepare to eventually become a drill sergeants, we would sometimes march the troops from one place to another for practice. It may look simple, but to get a group of people marching in formation around turns, through doors, and around obstacles requires a degree of skill. If that wasn’t enough there were dangers from traffic and the eventual challenges to your authority. General George Patton once said, “The best defense is an active offense.” I interpreted that to mean having fun with recruits to keep them guessing what I would do next. My first act of torment was that they had to carry their tank gunnery manual FM17-12, (FM for field manual), with them, everywhere they went. If their manual was ever in danger, such as if they thought they were about to be run over by a car, they were to hold the manual safely out of harms way. I had two favorite commands which some enjoyed, some didn’t, but all quickly learned. The first was, “flash flood.” Upon hearing those words, you were expected to run to the nearest tree and climb it, theoretically saving yourself from quickly rising floodwaters. A good soldier can never be over prepared.

The second command was, “feet eaters.” That was handy when a platoon of female recruits from the nearby basic training brigade came marching by. At the first catcall from my guys the feet eaters command was surely coming in seconds. When “feet eaters” was heard, you dropped, rolled onto your back, extending your arms and legs into the air, and of course holding the gunnery manual away from the danger of the approaching feet eating critters. The troops were also required to yell “feet eaters” loudly to warn others of the danger. A soldier, I would explain in the early days of training, is no good without his feet, hence, the feet saving technique was necessary and should be used from time to time.

The best part of teaching at Fort Knox, by far, was the gunnery phase, where we would have to teach upwards of one hundred fifty recruits how to fire the various weapons and actually hit something while doing it. The second was teaching tank driving skills, both basic and advanced.

We taught the driving in several ways. Initially we began in a large flat area called the basic driving range. The best students would be allowed to drive the tanks back to the motor pool, a couple miles away. Tanks are not high mileage vehicles. An M60 was ready for retirement at five thousand miles!

The basic driving skills range was where Doug met that sassafras tree. It was also located right beside the post landfill. Has anyone ever seen a military landfill? It is a precision built, well engineered, non-polluting piece of work, and a fun place to play with bulldozers. We happened upon the Fort Knox landfill one day in the late afternoon. We were on the backside of the driving range, Doug and I were parked beside one another. We were watching an enormous Caterpillar bulldozer smoothing an area. I mentioned that we could tear up his work quicker than he could fix it. Doug thought about it, “naw, it’s no fair, they are too slow.” “Let’s drive over there, just to see if we can climb the loose dirt.” “OK, you lead.” Away we went, in low range, my M60 went right up the side about 50 feet high, then along came Doug. Right away I could see the guy in the bull dozer had stopped, so I commanded the driver to drive over to where the big cat was sitting, so we did. We got there, stopped and starred at the dozer operator for a second. I think we said something uncomplimentary about him not having a gun tube, being slow and heavy, and so on, then we took off, then immediately doing a neutral steer.

The Tank is designed so that in neutral, when turning, the tracks turn in opposite directions. It gets you turned within a minimum distance and leaves big piles of dirt from scraping fifty tons sideways. The dozer driver’s expression said it all, we had created three-foot high piles of dirt and scrapped down to the garbage he had just covered. He was signalling us the number one with his middle finger as we continued in spinning bliss. Then Doug’s tank started doing the same thing. We left the victors, disappearing over the side of the dump, descending back to the safety of the driving range. Funny, we never heard a thing about that, however I would learn that bull dozer drivers have long memories, and that day would come back to haunt me.

The advanced driving course was better. We had concrete walls to climb over, ditches to cross, a water obstacle, steep slopes, mud pits, you name it we had it. That place was also a popular spot for weekend recreation amongst the four-wheel drive jeep crowd. Many a jeep has been pulled out of a mud hole on Monday morning by a main battle tank. I personally disliked the ditch crossing the most. The driver would inch out over the abyss (about a four foot drop) until the vehicle started to lean forward. If it worked out, the track would catch the opposite bank before falling into the deep. The driver would throttle hard bridging the gap and successfully crossing the obstacle.Just as the back end of the tank cleared the ledge behind, the front end would rise, the rear would fall and somehow it would rock forward onto the opposite terra firma.

Should have said “In theory,” then the explanation, because normally it didn’t go that way. New drivers obviously lack the experience of a seasoned driver such as Garcia. They would creep out over the drop-off then just as the tank leaned forward, instead of mashing the accelerator pedal, sometimes would hit the brake. Sudden stoppage at that second would cause the whole tank to topple nose first into the ditch and crash hard to the bottom. The sudden stop there would sometimes propel the tank commander out of the hatch into the ditch by way of various parts of the tank, or knock him into the inside of the turret where there were many bad things to bounce off of. The best that would happen was being banged around the cupola ring where you could break ribs, arms, or accumulate contusions. I finally learned after taking a flying leap from the turret one day, that drivers didn’t really need to know how to cross wide ditches.

33508
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:40:38 PM »
From Shawn:

Being that Don is preoccupied momentarily I thought it my duty to entertain all of you. This one here is for Ashley our mighty deer hunter and farmer.....

Why we shoot deer in the wild:

(A letter from someone who wants to remain anonymous, who farms, writes well and actually tried this)

I had this idea that I could rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it up on corn for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat it. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck not 4 feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head (to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home.

I filled the cattle feeder then hid down at the end with my rope. The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it. After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up-- 3 of them. I picked out a likely looking one, stepped out from the end of the feeder, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold.

The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step towards it, it took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope, and then received an education. The first thing that I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.

That deer EXPLODED. The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity. A deer-- no Chance. That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined. The only upside is that they do not have as much stamina as many other animals.

A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head. At that point, I had lost my taste for corn-fed venison. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope.

I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painfully somewhere. At the time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. At that moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that the feeling was mutual. Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's momentum by bracing my head against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the feeder - a little trap I had set before hand...kind of like a squeeze chute. I got it to back in there and I started moving up so I could get my rope back.

Did you know that deer bite? They do! I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when ..... I reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bit by a horse where they just bite you and slide off to then let go. A deer bites you and shakes its head--almost like a pit bull. They bite HARD and it hurts.

The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and shaking instead. My method was ineffective.

It seems like the deer was biting and shaking for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds. I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now), tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose.

That was when I got my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.

Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up on their back feet and strike right about head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp... I learned a long time ago that, when an animal -like a horse --strikes at you with their hooves and you can't get away easily, the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal. This will usually cause them to back down a bit so you can escape.

This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and tried to turn and run. The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer may not be so different from horses after all, besides being twice as strong and 3 times as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.

Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.

I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away. So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring a rifle with a scope......to sort of even the odds!!

All these events are true so help me God...An Educated Farmer

33509
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:38:51 PM »
another CIEMR:

I heard wise and Godly man, a Neuro-Surgeon talk recently about the destruction of a culture. Using is vast reasoning ability and considerable intellect, he made the following observation:
He said if he were in a position of power, say in the white house, for example, and he wanted to bring down the nation he would do it by first creating division amongst the people. He would encourage a culture of ridicule of the basic principles that made the country great in the first place, such as our morality. He would continue to undermine the security of the nation through a systematic destruction of the financial system, and finally he would culturally and morally, weaken the military!
Did you get that?
1. Create division in the people
2. Create ridicule for our basic morality
3. Destroy our financial security
4. Weaken the military

Four tenants to get done and the ruin of the nation follows. Not just a nation which now lives in some depraved situation a bit worse off that we are now. No, a nation in ruin! Show me if you will some part of the nation of the Carthaginians? The Romans? The Vikings? Celts? Mayans? Incans? Apache? Ming Dynasty?

Show me a land mass that is governed and solely regulated by those people or cultures. You can fly me to Rome for $849, but I will not be in the Roman culture, I will be in Italy. I can visit the coliseum as it exists in a museum state, but not what it was. You might argue I can enter an Apache Indian reservation and even find a few reservation police, but thousands of mighty warriors? Not going to happen.
All these cultures are gone. Only the scattered remains of their people remain. Those people are subject to the law, rule and culture to someone else who conquered them and essentially, rule them now. Those once great cultures and nations went through a terribly destructive process that led them by their own hand to their complete devastation and demise. What went on after Rome fell? Was it the age of enlightment? Or was it called the Dark Ages. That’s ages as in more than one, and for those guilty of being stupid, Read: a very long time!

When America falls, after we stop killing each other and roughly a fifth to a tenth of our population remains, we too will be added to my former list, to fade into the annals of history for some future generation to ponder about. If and when an America that remains on it’s present trajectory fails there will be destruction and suffering on a scale that has never been known by man. There won’t be any relief, just survival, and just barely by a few. I almost said a fortunate few, but that manner of living won’t be anything to, well, live for. Then on top of all that after we have gone against and through each other until barely two in ten remain, foreign invaders will come to our shores, and by the millions. They will come because despite our desperate situation we will still be sitting on top of the most abundant oil and natural gas supply on the planet. They, the invaders will not have a lot of resources to waste on us. We will be assimilated into their work force or disposed of.

Let’s take another look at that short list of four items the brilliant doctor mentioned:

The first, create division in the people. Hmmm, what would you call this constant pointing out of the wealthy and in light of the fact that the poor have nothing? Mending wounds? Understanding? I don’t think so. It seems more like the focus on the wealthy, who, by the way create the economic engine for everyone to work and earn money are being called out. The long crooked, hypocritical finger of government is pointed at them, center mass in a very accusing manner. They have so much…Isn’t it time to level the playing field just a little the government demands.

What about race? Isn’t that starting to crop up again with all its ugly ways. Are whites once again privileged and blacks oppressed? Amidst all our efforts and laws is it possible that black people are once again being prejudiced against. I think not, at least for the most part. I think it is nothing more than the effort of a few to gain unfair advantage while riding the coattails of some waning law to get a foot forward. Anyone with a brain knows that race should make no difference, just the quality of the person. To even go to a race based argument is archaic, hateful, inaccurate, and tends to paint too broad a stroke since we are all beautiful individuals created by God.

How about the 99% ers? Is that a group bent on understanding and working together? Or is it one set by design to destroy and disrupt the efforts of generations. It seems to this Kentuckian that the latter is very much in play and people of money and influence both spawn and finance this malignant effort to kill peaceful society.

So I think we can agree that there is division of our society taking place on many levels and in many ways. So on to item number two: What about creating ridicule about our morality? Let me see, in the past few years suddenly the values of the mainstream American is off balance. The America that knew the nuclear family was the root of our strength. Especially when that family was firmly rooted in a faith that honored and worshiped God. He is real of course, however a growing percentage of our population doesn’t seem to go along with that notion. So if we hear morality from the pulpit on Sundays, then a direct, however subtle attack on that pulpit could weaken the message, eat away at the morality that streams from it directly from the bible through the words of Godly inspired men. Take a whack at that and you are chopping down the tree of moral fabric.

So on that count, let me see…hmmm a gay bishop in the American Episcopal church comes to mind. Gay marriages does as well and of course the recent relaxing of our military’s standards against gay members. Let me caveat here, I do not like to single out the gay thing. I know gay people and they are often great people. In my view their lifestyle is against God and I disagree with it totally, but I try to love them as people. My book of morality NIV version, if you please, says to love the sinner, but hate the sin. OKey dokey, I’m good with that!

How about the gun control thing. Anyone with a brain knows gun control only involves things like a steady air, proper operation of the safety, trigger, magazines and so forth, and perhaps proper storage of the weapon.

But in the very modern context, certain powerful fools want us to believe that certain guns are more dangerous than others. Hog-wash, all guns are dangerous. AR-15’s are no more or less dangerous than a .22 single shot. If I give an infant the AR-15 and an ex military guy a .22 single fire, who do you think will create the most havoc?

Never the less the legal debate continues. The second amendment does not concern itself with defense of oneself against violent criminals. It was designed to give we the people the ability to march on Washington and take back our country if the need arises. Personally being a combat veteran, I would prefer 30 or even 60 round magazines as opposed to 10 rounder’s if I had to go up against those defending a dying government with all its magnificent killing devices.

I think we can agree that the good doctors second point is in valid and indeed underway. So on to his third point, the destruction of our financial system. Does this even require any explanation what so ever? It’s math. We take in X amount. We spend, however X + 100. So we have to borrow the 100. Who lends us the 100? Well, lots of places, but mostly foreign countries and mostly China. We borrow the money as well from ourselves! And how does that work? Well something called the Federal reserve is endowed to maintain the money supply. Lately they have been printing it. They print it, then loan it to banks at almost no interest. The banks in turn loan it back to us at, yup, you guessed it, with interest! Hmmm. Pretty good system until someone finally figures out that’s it nothing more than paper, and perhaps not even that, but just a number in a computer file somewhere.

So the money is not backed up. The extra comes from other countries. What happens when those countries try to collect the money we owe them in something like Gold or silver? Well, as long as there is a lot of the metal, nothing. I buy silver and I have noticed that that pretty metal is drying up. Becoming more and more difficult to find in quantity. China is buying all of it and of gold that it can. So when that magic moment finally arrives when they have 90% of the gold and we have say 1% and they both call in their debt and refuse to loan a penny? At that exact moment, the big banks will all stop operations. They will close. The smaller banks we deal with will also within hours. Now your debit and credit cards will not work. You will run out of gas and be stranded. Businesses will fail to open because they will exhaust what they have and or their employees will not show. Hunger will set start in as few as maybe a week. Rioting, stealing and escalating violence immediately follows that. The call for marshal law which will happen on day two or three will do little to stop the flash mob burning of our cities and urban areas that will quickly follow. With all of that infrastructure will be damaged to the point where it would take years to repair if ever, and, well, for all intents and purposed, we will never again get back to the carefree America we enjoy today. The rest is morbid and bad, but use your imagination…

So with scholars everywhere knowing all about this and talking about it, what are we doing? Well continuing to borrow money. We enact bail out after bailout, and adopt a healthcare system which immediately inherits 30 million freeloaders and punishes hospitals for not fixing things the first time. With the decreasing financial benefit to becoming a doctor, they have already started retiring by the thousands and fewer are being created. In Canada you might wait months for an MRI, where my daughter went to the hospital emergency room last night and got one while she was there within a couple hours. Canadians have long come to the US to get those MRI’s to take back to their socialized doctors in an effort to get treatment speeded up.

We continue to enact new programs, and build bigger government. We are actually creating another Army, the DHS, department of homeland security with recent purchases of 7,000 M4 carbines, 2700 MRAP, mine resistant wheeled fighting vehicles, and nearly 2 billion (2,000,000,000) cartridges! Rumor also has it that they are maintain and refurbishing around 800 prisoner confinement facilities! Hmmm, that’s a lot of military stuff! So why build a new military? If we are under that much threat, why not just retask the Army to defend us like they are designed to do? That’s another subject all together, but none the less, building an Army like that is a pretty expensive proposition given these difficult economic times. It makes me wonder that if that doesn’t play into the intentional bankrupting of our country, while giving someone the controls to a pretty well equipped extra police force!

Finally the weakening of the military. Anyone think the military is growing stronger? Well from a material and manpower standpoint, from over a decade of war, our equipment is getting pretty worn out. We are reducing the number of armed soldiers as a cost fighting measure. Personally, I’d rather take some welfare professional recipient off her SRX caddy and put her in a job, and save a soldier, but that’s just me. Or not provide a free home to some immigrant and save a squad of rifle marines, again, I’m old and stuck in my ways, so perhaps I just need to move on. On a footnote of interest, I apparently will be encouraged to do so from an ObamaCare standpoint. I think that cancer treatment for people over age 70 is now somewhat burdensome so they will not be offered it any longer. Whatever, I’m going to heaven and that’s a far sight better than this growing hell in the very place I once called the greatest country on earth.

The gays were always in the military. We knew it and it somehow worked. The idea of men necking on men is highly offensive to me and, well, most of my fellow warriors. So is the thought of a bare breasted, recently raped dead female soldier being dragged behind a truck being seen by the world. That happened to a crew chief in my unit and for my part, I just think that if that had been a female, it would have been worse. Frankly, when the first she is captured, the guys, being the macho bunch we tend to be will go crazy trying to protect “our girl” and that will get more of us killed than would have been the case, but foolish people who never served in dangerous billets like combat made those calls.

Having Gays openly serving in the military has weakened the strength of our force. Operational officers cannot tell you that, or they will be silently killed, through receiving less than glowing OER (officer evaluation reports) and therefore deselected for promotion. The bigger category here is political correctness. PC is death by a thousand paper cuts. It barely shows at first, but there is an injury. You see, even though the social liberal are pushing us forward at breakneck speed, fuelled by the stupidity of the administration, they are not at all in touch with natural law. Natural law, that flowing from our God is what is right. If you don’t find it there, endorsed by him, then it just isn’t going to work. So the Gay thing will only lead to destruction (Reference Sodom and Gomorrah). To introduce it into our military will only serve to weaken that moral organization like a growing tumor does the body.

In a more amazing way, the military is coming more and more under the control of the executive branch. I recently was forwarded a photo from a senior officer for whom I once served. It showed 5 nuclear carriers tied up at the same pier! Alongside them were several straight deck carriers as well! Let me say plainly, never once since the battleships were all anchored together at Pearl Harbor has this happened. All of our capital ships sitting together. Apparently they were ordered in for routing maintenance at the same time! W H AAA T????
No that doesn’t happen, well not since December of 1941!

The bigger problem is that you, America has become so under educated and stupid that you can no longer make intelligent choices. Most of you do not understand very much of anything. You see the government was set up this way so that an educated population could carefully watch over the goings-on of their government therefore preventing any missteps. But what happens when the population is no longer educated? Anyone think the 99%ers are really smart guys? They don’t even know personal hygiene.

So because so many of you have let your country down by not maintain personal standards of intelligence, the leftist few are and have been free to run amuck. The few remaining who actually have a brain are working overtime to try to plug the dyke, but we have about run out of fingers.

So in conclusion I say, get ready, for it is coming. Most of you created it through drinking the kool-aid and not questioning things. You have not served or done a single thing to help and only look out for your selfish needs. I think you will perish in the coming national tribulation, and it will be because of your own design. For the rest of us, build it, dig in, get healthy, prepare. And get right with God, for soon enough he will probably be all that you have left!

33510
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:36:46 PM »
A diversion
From another book I wrote that I didn't publish, well sort of didn't...



CHAPTER 1

Reminiscing


The nose pitched up gently to around 2 degrees above the horizon as we started a slow climb to flight level three three zero. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the air was smooth in the climb. The jet was operating like the finely tuned machine it was designed to be, passing effortlessly through the atmosphere at .80 mach. I selected 500 feet per minute climb on the auto pilot control panel, punched the vertical speed button, then started to chuckle.

In my mind, I was suddenly back in the turret of my M60 tank at Ft. Knox Kentucky on the basic driving course. Doug was a loveable sort of guy, in a clumsy sort of way, the kind of guy you somehow felt compelled to tease, but then later felt badly for doing so. He was a fellow tank commander and my friend. My driver had just knocked down a tree with our tank, and Doug’s driver was just about to do the same thing. Back then he and I were Tank Commanders and instructors at the US Army’s Armor Center, teaching young recruits and passing on our craft of dispatching an enemy tank with precision and speed. The difference was at this particular time that he had never knocked down a tree before. Doing so was strictly forbidden and Doug liked to follow the rules, so this was going to be a new experience for him and a treat for me.

His tank approached a sizable Sassafras tree at about five miles per hour, and then as he got close suddenly lurched forward. What was he doing, the fool was supposed to drive up slowly, just touch it, and then, simply push it over. His tank hit the tree so hard, it came out of the ground roots first, then toppled over the turret, falling right on top of him. As the scene unfolded in front of me, I began to have one of those out of body moments where you find yourself hovering above this incredible scene, not actually participating in it, but watching in non belief. A large branch had caught him under his arm and as the tank moved forward and plucked him right out of the turret! I could see the expression on his face, a wild and crazed look, being pulled farther away as the tree rolled off the still moving tank until finally the electrical helmet connection pulled apart.

The driver, oblivious to what was going on above him, just kept driving forward, leaving Doug entangled in the tree as it rolled off the back deck and onto the ground. Well, the way that event unfolded describes Doug in a nutshell, he always had the best of intentions, but the result of his actions was seldom what you would have expected. I thought about calling the driver of his Tank on the radio, as he drove away, but decided not to. Doug didn’t seem to be hurt and the whole thing was just too funny. The last thing I remember seeing was Doug running after his tank yelling “stop, stop,” as the lumbering vehicle disappeared over a hill, simply unbelievable!

While still savoring the humor of the thought, a voice broke in, “what’s so funny,” the voice asked? Ah, the other pilot, he’s one of those tetchy types, long in education but short on common sense. Taking my time to answer, I studied the concerned look on his face, and began to wonder. Perhaps he thought I was one of those guys who have spontaneous delayed battlefield stress syndrome reactions. Probably read about those types in one of his psychology classes. The set up was perfect for a little fun, we were six miles above the surface of the earth at something just short of the speed of sound, and he’s doesn’t have a warm and fuzzy about me. Unfortunately For him it was going to be a very long flight to Nassau.

We were approaching Orman Beach Florida, We were cruising at a comfortable point eight five of mach. I noted we had 24 minutes to go before we would start our approach for landing into Nassau. The weather report called for clear skies with a slight quartering headwind. I guessed we’d get runway 09 and started doing the mental gymnastics for the landing I would have to do there. Funny thing about being a pilot, even if you do a fabulous job for twelve hundred miles, at the destination if you bounce the plane on landing, all the passengers will ever remember is the lousy landing.

I still couldn’t get Doug out of my mind, and began to think about when I taught him another lesson in modern tank warfare called “back-scratching.” It was just another method in a long list of unauthorized techniques that was never taught in formal circles, however was well known with experienced crews and sometimes used in combat. Being inside fifty-two tons of steel insulates you from the outside world pretty well and gives one a false sense of safety. Enemy infantry don’t like tanks very much and have developed a trick of shooting small arms at you to keep you buttoned up (hatches closed) while someone rushes the vehicle, jumps on board and attaches an explosive. The rest, as they say, is history.

Those infantry guys were not chosen because they didn’t make the cut for medical school, no, they were chosen for the job because they didn’t make it to school at all. OK, perhaps there is a bit of exaggeration here, but we’re having fun at someone else’s expense so let’s continue. To defend ourselves, tankers travel in groups of two to three, and keep watch over each other as we moved, always mindful of the infantry threat. If some unfortunate enemy soldier were to make a poor choice, and try to attack one of our mighty vehicles, a nearby tank would simply shoot a burst of machine gun fire onto the other tank, quickly removing the annoying infantry attacker. That is the “back scratching technique in a nutshell.

For obvious reasons, in our ultra safe and politically correct society, we would never dream of firing on another manned vehicle while training, there is just too much of a risk of injury or damage. Steele tank range was, in our minds at least, purpose built just for some unauthorized “back scratching” training. There just happened to be a place on the range where two tanks would be out of sight from the tower for several minutes. The tower is where the safety nazi lived. He was the person everyone sings about in the song “every party needs a pooper, that’s why we invited you, party pooper…” He was the company kill-joy who was hand selected to monitor every action on the range in the hopes of creating some imaginary veil of safety to protect our precious tanks and tankers alike as if training for war is somehow a safe activity.

I had talked to Doug about doing a little back scratching over coffee during breakfast. He had reluctantly agreed, or more to the point, had been dragged, kicking and screaming to a “yes” answer. Doug was definitely a stay between the lines sort of guy and he would never do something like this without significant coercion. When it was finally our turn to go down range, as fate would have it, Dough was in lead and I was following. All the better, I was well practiced at the technique, and, as with the tree incident, Doug was new to this also.

We had discussed a code word we would use to switch to a discreet frequency only he and I knew, and when the time neared, I gave it. He met me on frequency but nervously tried to back out of our conspiracy. It was too late, “one-one, this is one-three, you buttoned up?” “Yes, but we really shouldn’t be doing this.” Never mind, too late now, here it comes. Peering through the sight, all I could see was a big fluffy sleeping bag tied neatly to the infantry hand rail on the side of his turret. Good aim point I thought as I squeezed the trigger. Instantly I saw the bullets bouncing off his tank’s turret and about one million feathers suddenly went airborne in a cloud that looked like snow. “Hey one-three, this is one-one, that’s cool, I can hear the bullets hitting me” Doug said, “what does it look like from your angle?” I was looking at what was left of his sleeping bag and then noticed that the shredded mess had been set on fire by the tracer rounds. “Hey one-one, I’m cold, (meaning I have stopped firing), you have a small fire on the side of your turret!” I saw the hatch open, Doug’s helmet and the fire extinguisher cloud as he sprayed and extinguished the fire. The safety nazi in the tower apparently mistook the cloud of feathers for smoke and called to see what was going on. “Nothing,” I lied, “ops normal here, you OK one-one?”

Through the sights, I saw Doug holding up his two rubber boots which had been stowed just behind the sleeping bag. They had suffered the same fate as the sleeping bag, and were full of holes. He signaled me with his long middle finger, I waved with half of my arm, which I extended out of the hatch, and life was good. The other commanders laughed and poked fun at him every time they saw him later on walking through the mud for the next couple of days in those bullet riddled boots. The boots may have been destroyed but Doug wasn’t going to let it get the best of him. He’d wear those boots as a sort of badge of courage. Yep, he was a hard act to follow.

The approach and landing was as they said in some movie, a piece of pie. We almost caught the downwind main gear first, but I leveled and flared at just the right time getting a long squeaker at about the two thousand foot mark. We taxied clear of the active runway to a spot that was in a good position to witness the American Eagle guy just behind us. He landed on the left main first, bounced back into the air, then came down again on the left, then right and finally planted the nose. Those huge ATR turbo props weren’t all that difficult to land. They must have had an unlucky gust of wind or the person flying was a new guy. Someone said “amateur” over the tower frequency just as I was switching to ground control, we both chuckled.

To this day I cannot explain why I made it a personal project of mine to corrupt Doug, I guess it just seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. He must have learned some fundamental lesson while growing up in his structured world that made him the way he was. You see, the irony in warfare of knowing when not to follow the rules is that if you are able to live and operate on the fringe you just might have a small advantage and that just might save your bacon some day. I Once served under a Battalion Commander who often chewed on my butt. He’d say “Harward, If I could, I would put you in a glass case labeled, “BREAK IN CASE OF WAR,” and keep you there.” I took that as a compliment. He was the paper pusher type looking for a quick star. We called guys like him “corporate raiders, clerks, or remfs.” None of those terms are complimentary in nature, the last of which is probably the worse. Given that I have decided to keep this story clean, I can not explain what those letters stand for. I liked Doug and we just wanted him to push his limits a bit to learn a little more about himself.

I could probably dedicate most of the space in this book to Doug stories, and although he was amongst the most humorous of my acquaintances at that time, he wasn’t the only one. The ground hog story relates to that exact moment when something in him changed. Perhaps he finally gave in to all the “training” we had given him, or maybe he was just maturing and coming into his own.
The time was midsummer, and we were busy with training yet another group of recruits and it was lunchtime. Three other sergeants and I decided to drive down to the mess hall from the sub-caliper gunnery range we were teaching at that week. The evening before, we had left the tanks on the range with a guard so that we could drive our cars out there the next day. Without doing so, we would have been condemned to eating the C-rations the recruits were blessed with that day. Doug, myself, and another tank commander, Eddie, all owned Jeep CJ-7s. Our final musketeer was Smitty from Jackson, Mississippi who drove a full sized Ford F250, who always managed to get stuck on our weekend four wheeling outings. That’s when I first began to notice there were quite a few “Smitty’s” in the Army.

My jeep was lifted, had a built engine and big mud tires, Doug’s was just the way he purchased it and would remain that way until the end of time. Eddie’s was slightly modified, but always seemed to be in the body shop recovering from an endless stream of mishaps. Everybody liked the loud exhaust on mine, so we climbed in that beautiful orange jeep and headed down the tank trail toward the battalion area for lunch. I was going a little to fast, which always annoyed Doug. He was pointing out the posted 25 mile per hour speed limit and saying something about the fact that a lifted vehicle was not as stable an a stock one. He was always complaining like that about something. So just to prove him wrong, I steered abruptly to the right, absolutely sure that nothing bad was going to happen. The jeep responded by rolling onto its side, top, other side, and then sliding into a two-foot high pile of dust on that side. No, you haven’t seen dust until you’ve seen dust that has been pulverized by huge dirt destroying tanks for years and years, that is some really fine powdery stuff.

After we stopped, I was hanging in my shoulder harness on the up-hill side, Eddie was below me in the passenger front seat cussing just like normal but he was all right. Smitty was behind me and had the good sense during the roll over to grab a speaker that had gone airborne. It would have likely taken one of us out. He was OK also. Doug was only about ten percent visible. He was almost completely buried with the dust the jeep had scraped up during the rollover and slide sequence. “Doug, you all right?” The shoulder moved, Smitty already had unbuckled and was digging in the dust for Doug’s seat belt. He found and released it and pulled Doug up out of the dust. Poor Doug was the exact color as the pulverized mud and the only way you could distinguish which end was the talking side of his head was three narrow slits of moisture where his eyes and mouth were supposed to be.

Other than eating a mouthful of Kentucky’s finest mud mix, he was OK too. He smiled, wiped his eyes, looked at me, and said “told ya!” About that time, a basic training platoon marched up to the crash site and halted. A sergeant first class asked “what happened here?” Doug the ranking guy in our dust covered group stepped forward, took a long look at me, then told the Sergeant how the driver had done a great job steering to avoid a ground hog which was standing in the road. We got the expected dubious smile, The sergeant noted that none of us seemed worse for the wear and ordered the trainees to roll the jeep back up on its wheels. We checked the oil, I cranked the engine and it started! We thanked everyone and quickly drove off.

Having to defend me with a bold faced lie was a cross roads event in Doug’s life. He could have told the truth and see me suffer the punishment I rightfully deserved, or choose to protect his friend and compromise his values. He was never the same from that day on, he was better in a strange unexplainable way. He squared up at people, seemed to have better posture and gained confidence. He became able to hold me at bay, but also to operate in the gray zone just past the line where we often operated. He earned my respect and trust in a way I would never have anticipated, he was one of the best NCOs I have ever known.

33511
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / From my books and writings
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:36:11 PM »
Folks, thought I'd start a thread to let you read new stuff I've written for books which I am currently writing.

I do not sit down and muscle out a 70,000 word manuscript. I do write when I feel so motivated, and add to the story until such a point that I consider it complete. I did that with Distant Thunder, well, sort of.

So in this thread you can ask questions about Distant Thunder and I'll see them, then disregard...or not...just kidding!

I also want a place to share fresh and new material for those who keep asking me to write more

33512
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:30:58 PM »

33513
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:30:25 PM »
Time for a national discussion on these DHS MRAPS and 1.6+ billion rounds of ammo:





1.6 Billion Rounds Of Ammo For Homeland Security? It's Time For A National Conversation
Ralph Benko
3/11/2013





The Denver Post, on February 15th, ran an Associated Press article entitled Homeland Security aims to buy 1.6b rounds of ammo, so far to little notice. It confirmed that the Department of Homeland Security has issued an open purchase order for 1.6 billion rounds of ammunition. As reported elsewhere, some of this purchase order is for hollow-point rounds, forbidden by international law for use in war, along with a frightening amount specialized for snipers. Also reported elsewhere, at the height of the Iraq War the Army was expending less than 6 million rounds a month. Therefore 1.6 billion rounds would be enough to sustain a hot war for 20+ years. In America.

Add to this perplexing outré purchase of ammo, DHS now is showing off its acquisition of heavily armored personnel carriers, repatriated from the Iraqi and Afghani theaters of operation. As observed by “paramilblogger” Ken Jorgustin last September:

[T]he Department of Homeland Security is apparently taking delivery (apparently through the Marine Corps Systems Command, Quantico VA, via the manufacturer – Navistar Defense LLC) of an undetermined number of the recently retrofitted 2,717 ‘Mine Resistant Protected’ MaxxPro MRAP vehicles for service on the streets of the United States.”

These MRAP’s ARE BEING SEEN ON U.S. STREETS all across America by verified observers with photos, videos, and descriptions.”

Regardless of the exact number of MRAP’s being delivered to DHS (and evidently some to POLICE via DHS, as has been observed), why would they need such over-the-top vehicles on U.S. streets to withstand IEDs, mine blasts, and 50 caliber hits to bullet-proof glass? In a war zone… yes, definitely. Let’s protect our men and women. On the streets of America… ?”

“They all have gun ports… Gun Ports? In the theater of war, yes. On the streets of America…?

Seriously, why would DHS need such a vehicle on our streets?”

Why indeed? It is utterly inconceivable that Department of Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano is planning a coup d’etat against President Obama, and the Congress, to install herself as Supreme Ruler of the United States of America. There, however, are real signs that the Department bureaucrats are running amok. About 20 years ago this columnist worked, for two years, in the U.S. Department of Energy’s general counsel’s office in its procurement and finance division. And is wise to the ways. The answer to “why would DHS need such a vehicle?” almost certainly is this: it’s a cool toy and these (reportedly) million dollar toys are being recycled, without much of a impact on the DHS budget. So… why not?

Why, indeed, should the federal government not be deploying armored personnel carriers and stockpiling enough ammo for a 20-year war in the homeland? Because it’s wrong in every way. President Obama has an opportunity, now, to live up to some of his rhetoric by helping the federal government set a noble example in a matter very close to his heart (and that of his Progressive base), one not inimical to the Bill of Rights: gun control. The federal government can (for a nice change) begin practicing what it preaches by controlling itself.

Remember the Sequester? The president is claiming its budget cuts will inconvenience travelers by squeezing essential services provided by the (opulently armed and stylishly uniformed) DHS. Quality ammunition is not cheap. (Of course, news reports that DHS is about to spend $50 million on new uniforms suggests a certain cavalier attitude toward government frugality.)

Spending money this way is beyond absurd well into perverse. According to the AP story a DHS spokesperson justifies this acquisition to “help the government get a low price for a big purchase.” Peggy Dixon, spokeswoman for the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center: “The training center and others like it run by the Homeland Security Department use as many as 15 million rounds every year, mostly on shooting ranges and in training exercises.”

At 15 million rounds (which, in itself, is pretty extraordinary and sounds more like fun target-shooting-at-taxpayer-expense than a sensible training exercise) … that’s a stockpile that would last DHS over a century. To claim that it’s to “get a low price” for a ridiculously wasteful amount is an argument that could only fool a career civil servant.

Meanwhile, Senator Diane Feinstein, with the support of President Obama, is attempting to ban 100 capacity magazine clips. Doing a little apples-to-oranges comparison, here, 1.6 billion rounds is … 16 million times more objectionable.

Mr. Obama has a long history of disdain toward gun ownership. According to Prof. John Lott, in Debacle, a book he co-authored with iconic conservative strategist Grover Norquist,

“When I was first introduced to Obama (when both worked at the University of Chicago Law School, where Lott was famous for his analysis of firearms possession), he said, ‘Oh, you’re the gun guy.’

I responded: ‘Yes, I guess so.’

’I don’t believe that people should own guns,’ Obama replied.

I then replied that it might be fun to have lunch and talk about that statement some time.

He simply grimaced and turned away. …

Unlike other liberal academics who usually enjoyed discussing opposing ideas, Obama showed disdain.”

Mr. Obama? Where’s the disdain now? Cancelling, or at minimum, drastically scaling back — by 90% or even 99%, the DHS order for ammo, and its receipt and deployment of armored personnel carriers, would be a “fourfer.”

The federal government would set an example of restraint in the matter of weaponry.
It would reduce the deficit without squeezing essential services.
It would do both in a way that was palatable to liberals and conservatives, slightly depolarizing America.
It would somewhat defuse, by the government making itself less armed-to-the-teeth, the anxiety of those who mistrust the benevolence of the federales.
If Obama doesn’t show any leadership on this matter it’s an opportunity for Rep. Darrell Issa, chairman of the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee, and Rep. Michael McCaul, chairman of the House Committee on Homeland Security, to summon Secretary Napolitano over for a little national conversation. Madame Secretary? Buying 1.6 billion rounds of ammo and deploying armored personnel carriers runs contrary, in every way, to what “homeland security” really means. Discuss.

33514
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:29:01 PM »
Prepare, for the Typhoon is coming soon:

A commentary from an Australian...

Note: I have long known Australians and New Zealanders. THey are good stock and plain speaking. Unlike an increasing number of anestised Americans, they "get it"






A CREDIBLE ANALYSIS...

The Obama Watch - His Queeg Moment
By Hal G.P. Colebatch on 1.29.13 @ 6:07AM

A perspective on our president from Down Under. ( Australia ?)

In Herman Wouk's classic World War II novel, The Caine Mutiny, there is a moment when a group of the ship's officers are getting away from the increasingly eccentric Captain Queeq by relaxing ashore.

Suddenly the malcontent Lieutenant Keefer asks the others: "Does it occur to you that Captain Queeg may be insane?

In fact Queeg is not insane, at least not at that time. He is simply grappling, more and more disastrously, with a job too big for him. Come the crisis of a typhoon, he becomes paralyzed and nearly sinks the ship by failing to give the obvious orders. At the subsequent court-martial he appears quite normal until he breaks down under the pressure of cross-examination. Before this, the officers have searched the regulations for guidance, but the regulations refer only to a captain who is clearly and unmistakably insane, not one who is merely guilty of eccentricity and bad judgment. At a lower level of responsibility, Queeg might have performed adequately, but with Keefer's question, the remaining respect for Queeg's office has gone.

Obama's second inauguration speech may be his Queeg moment — an undeniable demonstration that, in an emergency, he is incapable of grappling with reality. For all his unceasing invocation of the word "change," the outstanding thing about Obama has been his apparent inability to react, even to an imminent crisis. Like Queeg, he stands frozen on the bridge as the waves grow higher, or obsesses over issues like homosexuals and women in the military as the typhoon rises.

Faced with the worst looming fiscal cliff-fall in world history Obama, like Queeg in the typhoon, has done nothing at all, but has, increasingly, resorted to meaningless words.

His pseudo-Keynesian fiscal notions and a mantra-like repetition of old and failed ideas, suggest a serious lack on mental versatility.

Economics is not an exact science, but some of its rules are now well-known, and one is that a government cannot spend its way out of a recession.

Yet Obama does not project any sense of urgency, merely a smug, radiating sense of his own greatness. The one fiscal measure to which he seems committed — taxing the rich — is infantile stuff, like Queeg's obsession with who ate the wardroom strawberries.

Any first-year politics or economics student knows that there are not enough rich, even in as wealthy a country as the United States, to have raising their taxes make any appreciable difference. President Reagan's application of the Laffer Curve proved emphatically, and only a short while ago, that the way to both stimulate the economy and to increase government revenues is to lower taxes. And it is not hard to pick some areas as least where towering taxes would make no appreciable difference to public infrastructure.

Like Queeg, Obama shows an inability to change course when such a change is desperately needed. Giving 20 F-16 fighters and hundreds of tanks to Egypt was never, in my opinion, a clever idea. Even when Egypt was an unequivocal friend its security required things like armored cars to put down street violence, not these hi-tech weapons whose only conceivable use would be against Israel. Indeed, Obama seems to show no awareness that Egypt and other major Islamic countries have changed from being friends to something like enemies in a few months.

For a President of the United States there is a difference between making a bad policy choice and clinging to that policy when it is plainly completely wrong, like the Caine steaming in a circle and cutting its own tow-line. Mistakes that cannot be ignored are always someone else's fault (refer George Bush).

The dancing is still there, the golf, the celebs, the multi-million dollar holidays, but behind them it is possible to detect a desperate emptiness, a interconnected mosaic of failure.

The one much-boasted triumph, the killing of Osama Bin Laden, was the work of other men. One of those most responsible, Dr. Shakil Afridi, rots in the hellhole of a Pakistani jail, abandoned.

Obama's oath to bring the Benghazi murderers to justice seems to have been forgotten as soon as it was made, something — I am not sure if there is a word for it — actually below the level of a campaign promise.

Allies have been lost or slighted in almost every part of the world, the Afghan war has brought the U..S and NATO humiliation and Russia and China lead in Space. The defenses of the U.S. 's major allies, such as Britain, are in an even more dire situation.

This does not even consider the exploding levels of domestic poverty. Restoring flexibility to the wage system, so as to give American industry a reasonable degree of competitiveness, seems out of the question.

The Western position in Mali seems to have suddenly collapsed without warning, or without preventative action being taken, and meanwhile, we have had the North Korean threat. I somehow doubt we would have had that if Reagan had been at the helm. What, exactly, have things come to when a cockroach of a country, apparently run by real, certifiable lunatics, can threaten the United States with nuclear weapons?

The typhoon waves are starting to break over the bridge.

33515
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:27:58 PM »
From Nate:

Ok, lets see if I can get this out in words like it is in my head. Gotta remember that I am not as edumacated as don is.

What I am getting at here is that we really have no way of telling if they were good men or if they were bad men. Unless, we were alive during their terms and of such a state of mind to actually know the difference of what was going on and able to make our own determinations. Now with that being said, we only have 3 sources of information that we can use to make our opinions with. 1. being all of the one sided or biased litterateur that has been written about them (because how can we trust or know if what we are reading is the actual truth, because we do not know from our own experiences or that the person writing it wrote the actual truth being able to keep their own opinions and beliefs out of it?) 2. The same statement goes for all of the media coverage of said men. 3. The last thing that we have to go on is what we are told by our parents, family, people we know, etc. Now with that we are being told information that may or may not be actual fact and whether or not it has been spun with their beliefs, morals, etc?

Now being an individual that has seen many of things in this world first hand, I have come to rely on fact. Now when I say fact, I am talking about what can I actually see with my own eyes, what can I touch with my hands, what can I hear with my ears, etc. to me there are a few things that I know to be fact with Roosevelt that make me turn more to the side of him doing a good job as president. I will limit it to 4 examples, 2 of which somewhat co-inside with each other. 1. He was an avid outdoorsman and put a lot of things into effect to protect wild animals and our beautiful, yes I said beautiful outdoor areas from destruction. Now, if there was some idiot that has changed that over time (EPA nazi’s, too many to name) then?! 2. He was against huge trusts or as we know it in today’s terms as monopolies. 3. Our nation’s workers at the time of him taking office were in a world of hurt financially, and he not really knowingly started the minimum wage policy which F.D.R. eventually turned into Social Security and federal minimum wage act. 4. Roosevelt established the FDA.

So to sum it up, that is why in my opinion I believe that Roosevelt was a good president. Now can I say that about Clinton to our current BOOB, no! I believe that we as a country have let Washington get too damn big and too controlling, and the position of president has been so skewed from what our four fathers had intended it to be.

33518
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:24:16 PM »
only problem with my mentality is, what happens if all these people don't have the drive and determination I hope that they do? Bunch of fat clueless F**ks just cower down because their macbook was taken away and all the sudden we are kinda short hand on help. Idk, like you said I just hope that when it happens people will have the balls to wake up and face the music they've tried so hard to ignore.

Well reason it out.
Logic dictates they don't make it. They won't have adequate food, nor water. Disease will rise up. Law and order will break down and give rise to anarchy. TWho comes out on top, the quiet cul-de-sac over there or the biker gang two streets down?
People requireing medical treatment? Diabetics, people undergoing cancer treatment or with heart problems? You think they suddenly have time for a crash workout program to a healthy lifestyle? Nope, they're on life support or cut off.
The surviving goverment will triage them. If you can work, and are not a burden, you get fed, if not, where would you put your very limited resources if you had half a chance of saving a few?
If you haven't taken responsibility for your own life, sa' live'...fast approaching sub terranian permanent homestead.

Out in the rural areas, are the people going to rise up and do flash mobs? Not likely. I think they will hunker down and work together to get through it. I think they will share and donate and give, and help and will meet at the church on sunday at noon by walking there and will get through it.

We won't be seeing many MRAPS in the country, except to protect a convoy of trucks sent to collect food and supplies. We may have to answer that with armed resistance, dunno. Given the choice of my family surviving or some former meth addict in the hood, I vote for my family. Almost everyone who is aware shares that view. So maybe the MRAPS don't come. After a year, estimates I have seen show something from 250 million or more Americans dead. THat makes feeding the remaining folks much easier, especially with the rice scraps from the Chinese soldiers!

33519
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:22:59 PM »
Originally Posted by mcle6103 View Post
The one huge thing that many people seem to forget....our country and our government are only worth something to the world at the moment because we buy stuff. That's it. The American people are huge consumers which is why countries like China put up with our huge debt and refusal to pay money back....do you think those countries are going to support a failing government whos people have rebelled and no longer fill the pockets of foreign countries as they once did? UH NO.

Our government is not nearly as strong as you think. They could be easily crippled at anytime. We have burned so many bridges and hold so many people under our thumbs that when the time finally comes when America needs help and is vulnerable...they won't help them(the US gov).

The people re-take govs just as a wild fire returns all life to the earth. Ours will fall, and it will be by our hands


Not picking on you here friend, but there is something else the rest of the world wants from us?
Any idea what that might be?
Who holds the largest known oil reserves on the planet?
Saudi Arabia?? Kuwait? Iran?
Not even close. One country's reserves dwarf's thise nation's reserves and that is us, as in the U.S. of A.
So will they come to help?
Yep they sure will. Under the peaceful trojan horse called the UN, if we fall into civil war, I'm betting that a million or so Chinese peace keepers along with some europeans and of course our close allies, the Russians (taking Alaska) will be here to help us out of our difficulties. THe problem is they will never leave!
China has the largest industrial economy on earth thanks to things like NAFTA which we did and on oil to run their machines. You think they are getting it from Russia? Nope, China and Russia are going to go at it some day. From Saudi Arabia?? Saudi is quietly running out. UAE has 2 years oil reserves tops. Iran has a bunch, but China has bought all of it until the year 3035. THat leaves south America, some fields in New Guniea, some in Africa and the already developed fields of America.
No Sir, this thing falls apart and our destroyed American goverment with it's military in disarray will not stop a millions of Chinese peace keepers from dropping right in.
The future does not look good. THe thought of fighting fellow Americans is too much to contemplate and the civil war, our bloodiest, is a good example to what awaits us down that road. But having knocked our heads againt each other for a while, and then having to face little people with AK-47's is not going to be a picnic...

33520
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:21:06 PM »
Originally Posted by mcle6103 View Post
You might THINK I'm wrong, and that is your opinion.

I'm not really sure where you are from but "helpless" is the last thing to describe the population of my home. Sick, fat and tv obsessed is far from the reality I grew up with. Not everyone is from the suburbs

Besides the citizens of every country aren't just super soldiers ready to defend themselves from the government who have spent their lives learning to be "rambo". Have you not learned from history? The revolutionary war was nothing more than farmers fighting the actual ARMY of England. The Syrian war is nothing more than a bunch of starved citizens who close their eyes, point their guns around around corners and pull the trigger and yet their far from beaten.

Every government has fallen in history and it wasn't always at the hands of some superior army from another country. Our country if anything would be one of the best to fight it's own government. We have more access to weapons than anyone on the planet and our country is vast. It took us 6 years to conquer a bunch of muslims hiding in mountains in Afghanistan. Imagine our people dug into the Appalachians with the resources we have? ha. good luck. It'll be nam all over again

You have taken me all wrong, perhaps I didn't express myself clearly...
No worries
Not about you
I know a little about this subject which allows me to make these statements of conjecture. I spent more than 5 years in places like Afgnistan, Baghdad, and other same-same spots. I had the timing to be there when things were not so good. I learned first hand how choked urban centers react to failing infastructure. Barbaric is a word that comes to mind. As a Career solider of two and a half decades, I saw quite a bit. As an officer I was a party to a lot of big picture stuff. As a special operations guy, I saw how goverments are engineered to implode by others. As a Christian, I have seen individuals suffering. As a father, I have seen dead children, as a guy living in the mayhem, I have known no rest and constant fear and worry.

Then as a citizen, I have flown home to the US to witness masses of very overweight people, having flown from airports replete with healthy looking people. THe fat ones there were usually American tourists.

Have you ever seen a mob driven my hungar? It is one that will dare gunfire to get a handful of rice. It gets a little crazy...

People are people. Most of the ones I observe hardly know what kind of boot to buy, they know nothing of fighting, evading, moving across the ground and surviving. I teach survival some to people and seldom if ever does anyone know the essentials. I have seen hand lotion and comfort items in bug out bags...no concept of reality there.

Harsh in saying it, but true, none the less. Without a lot of support, those folks won't be around for long. The folks dependent on 911 will be without protection. People without food and water will be hungry and will perish. The people who can get help from uncle sugar in urban areas will be doing what big brother says, when he says it, or they won't eat. It's really that simple.

Will there be resistance, oh yes. And will patroitic Americans win in the end?? I think so. We have resolve. We have some preparation, we have some resolve and a spine, all of which seems to be missing in a large number of Americans now, it would seem.

I only have to cite actual numbers and statistics.
How many people have food reserves, which they can actually protect?
How many have silver pigeon holed away? How many have weapons and ammo and know how to use them? How many people served in the military? How many people actually have a clue at all?

Nuff said, beyond a presentation and analysis of the facts, it's all gaming anyway...

33521
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:18:32 PM »
Originally Posted by mcle6103 View Post
The Gov is really insane if they think they're gonna be able to control any kind of civil unrest seeing as how every citizen owns a gun even with their mighty Navistar trucks. When sh!t finally hits the fan, it's gonna look like Syria on a large scale
.

Unfortunately, you are wrong.
The population, which is totally unpreparred, in most cases fat, sick, and lost without "The bachelor" will be out of water in three days and starving in a week.

They will be coming to goverment centers by the millions looking for help. The ensuing run on critical infastructure will need a lot more than 2700 MRAPS to control those crowds, but the vehicles, along with the national guard will do little more than protection of critical infastructure, goverment facilities, and convoy protection. Every thing else and every where else will be no man's land.

The goverment almost has a collective intelligence all of it's own, which instead of saying "give my everything, then my dying breath to my people", through its actions seems to be saying, "at all costs, I must survive."

Only morons haven't figured that out yet. Personally, I don't see it as a negative. The dependent sheeple will find themselves a prisioner to their cities and that means they won't be out in our countryside!

Cities only work with civilization. MRAPS are needed when all of that breaks down...

33522
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:17:36 PM »
Originally Posted by BobbyB View Post
Dallas CAIR Director: “Muslims Are Above the Law of the Land.”

Again, just another news story that came across my FB wall.


Remember CAIR sponsors terror
They are very smart
They are decieving
For them the end result justifies any means
They have no honor
They are liars
In fact, they are the enemy

Tell ya folks you need to draw a line and decide what side of it you are on.

Compromise with them is nothing more that a weakness

Sooner or later we either give up Christ and our Christian faiths or we meet them on a battlefield. I've chosen have all of you?

33523
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 06:15:28 PM »
Originally Posted by stlaser View Post
Don I agree loud and clear, one other thing that needs mentioned.

GOP head honcho Carl Rove just came out yesterday and said we need to find some "More Diverse Candidates" enough said.

This is exactly what is wrong, and that is the focus
Instead of staying on point and living or dyeing on a set of principals, some people focus on winning. That's how compromise works its way into the very moral fiber and character of a people, a nation, and a culture.

There are two Americas existing within a single border. One which strives to do things right, and one that works quietly at work, loves its neighbors and toils with the anticipation for something better with advancing years.
Then there is an evil America. This one is morally all over the place. It does not believe in strong family values. It abhors organized religion. It has no belief that people are good and smart at their core. It does not learn from lessons of the past, nor does it learn the lessons born of sacrifice and conviction. It is given in to ingratiating every fringe group you can think of and it is weak, pretty much everywhere you look within it.

Sadly I see our government running amuck chasing every whim of every kookoo dreamer in a Nazi fascist manner. They are becoming dangerous through this detachment from reality. They are moving farther and farther from the founding fathers concepts which have stood immovable for a couple hundred years. They probably believe in their hearts they are doing the right thing, and that this change is necessary and the push-back they get from us is merely the necessary birthing pains of the new American order.

But Oh are they wrong. What they really sense are the rumblings of a revolution. One that will destroy them and nearly all of us. It is coming, it seems to be engineered, and it is grossly miscalculated on their part. Unfortunately in the end and it will likely cost us our nation.

If you read my scenario in earlier writings, you already know where I see all this going.
There will, unfortunately, come a point where the Cumos, Obamas, Fenstiens, Schummers, and the like will push too far. They are doing it now. There is a point when the will of rural America will turn from one of passive obedience, and civil unrest will ensue. Make no mistake that is why Napolitano has created another Army. An Army with 1.2 billion cartridges, now feeding 7,000 automatic Assault rifles, carried by real trained troops, within military MRAPS, and protected by predator, Reaper and other aerial drone systems. That organization is being built for war. It does not have C17's and Navy ships to float or fly it somewhere to protect America. It has wheels so that it can drive from Pennsylvania to New York.

I'm just a soldier trained to see two and two and determine that I am looking at four and not twenty two. But without the benefit of a proper education, nor the strong values cultured and honed in a small little corner church, millions of Americans are convinced the leadership is correct that it is actually twenty two we are looking at. The good thing is that they are mentally weak without the resolve given through knowing a living God, and they will fail in the end. The end that is a burning, Chinese occupied America of few survivors wondering what happened.

The M-1 Musket of the revolutionary war wiped out the greatest military on the earth of the time. What do you think 100,000,000 modern weapons has the capability of doing? But an America that believes more in American Idol and Ironman than the God of Israel would not be listening or watching anyway. They are simply be swept around comfortably by the tides of change. With only one half of one percent of all of us actually ever having seen a real battlefield, that leaves 99.5% who don't know that horror in a personal way. Oh but the learning curve will be fast on that one, for those who are even around for round two that is.

We are at a precipice. Freedom is evaporating with every “makes no sense” compromise backroom deal our fat politicians make for the benefit of their particular special interest. When the rule of law is usurped, when the will of the people is disregarded, when our cultural tenants are thrown to abandonment, we are ruled. We live comfortably under tyranny. Under that encroaching system the assaults to our rights and freedoms become ever more spectacular. There will come a day in the not too distant future when an American(s) are turned into molecules by an American manufactured Hellfire, fired from a drone under the control of something like homeland security. It will be explained away as a necessary decision made by the commander and chief to protect Americans against some radical threat. And, in fact the victims may indeed be terrorists bent on destroying our country. So Americans will applaud the courage of the commander in chief. After all he just took decisive action to protect the people right??? I would however wonder where due process was during all those executive decisions. A thinking person would be able to connect the dots. Someone just assinated a person in America without any trial or due process of law.

Militarily speaking that could be necessary, I will admit. Frankly when I wore the uniform, if I was briefed that a group of Islamic terrorists were training in the mountains of North Carolina on a farm, I'd willingly vaporize them as well, but that's just me and according to the constitution as modified with its many laws, there should not be a outright killing, but a police type arrest, followed by an presentation of the facts in a court of our constitutional law.

If you throw all that out the window, what you have is tyranny. All you see is the proverbial tip of the iceberg with just a tiny little point sticking above the water. But to pull off something like that, there would have been organization beneath. That’s lots of people in high, middle and low places. That's resources. That’s a lot of good people who have been surgically extracted from the organizations to make the way of hell a ready path.
And where is America during all of this? Well, other than watching a rerun of Gold Rush, or consuming two more Big Macs on their way to a disease born of overeating of processed foods, or some other diversion, they are mostly asleep at the wheel.

But not all of us. No some, Americans have an independent, educated, and self controlled mind. A person capable of thinking being able to ferret out of the evening news the truth and not the crafted script that is being spoon fed to the stupid masses. If you want an example of our running intelligence level, gentlemen, look no further than the pages of this very web site. So many of the youngsters here write with a very telling absence of grammar and literary skills. Too large a number of people are pretty stupid these days. Most wonder what I just wrote while they wonder why it was that they actually voted for Obama.

Well, some day there is a reckoning coming. One where we will be judged. Where did we stand? What did we do when called upon? Did we just turn a blind eye to it all, or did we take a stand regardless of the consequences. Some things, you see, are worth living for, and if necessary, dying for. My God of Abraham is one and well beneath him the concept of a free America is as well. But America, where is your courage???

33524
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:43:33 PM »
And another:

You know, I was going to write something but I kept thinking it was just too controversial to pen and publish. But having thought about it, what I was thinking is actually the truth, so why shouldn't we just say it.

When you really think about it the Democratic Party and its loyalists are evil by nature. I believe I can support that with overwhelming facts to support my premise. Of course some Kool-Aid drinker will refute my statements, but I don't care, they are.
During the democratic convention, the authors of their platform struggled with references being made to God! Remember that? Then when they came under an avalanche of criticism, they made the very public reversal which backfired in their face. That was the act where the mayor of LA (???) stood and called for a vote to include God in the democratic platform. Remember he was booed and there was uproar from the democratic Islamic folks against the notion. Remember how the frustrated mayor called for that vote three different times? And after a thunderous rejection, he said the "Ayes" have it and the measure to include God passed. Although there was darn near an uprising against it! That was just a staged event, nothing more.
The democratic party supports same sex marriage, and that is clearly evil. The people who participate in it may not be, but the act, according to the bible is.
Democratic leaders all over the country are trying desperately to disarm the public so we will all be safer! Hog wash! Anyone with a brain knows more guns make you safer, not fewer. We all know it is a lie. The left fears (and hates) the conservatives. They ultimately want to control us, but how are you going to control 100,000,000 people who have 3 guns each?

This Democratic Party insists on giving young pregnant teenagers the right to kill their unborn children as a matter of convenience. That is murder, and Democrats and the left embrace it.
Hey if you are a democrat, sorry if this offends you, but it is true. SO if you beat that drum you are in fact supporting all these evils. I know some so called Christians who say they can see times when an abortion is OK, or when two people although they are both males should be allowed to marry. Well, I have before and I continue to do so. You are hypocrites. Jesus did not compromise. He was a real man and the only true example of the way a man should strive to live his life. He provided enough lessons and teachings for women to follow as well.
Women's movements are another evil and enthusiastically supported by our yellow spined Democrats. Movements which specifically strive to make women into something they were never intended to be are the ones I refer to. The woman as leader of the house? Wrong, she was created to be a helper to a Godly man. Women warriors? No, they were created to produce children and share in the dreams of their chosen husband, not pick up a sword and do combat. Having said that Women of all walks need to know self protection, guns, hand to hand, and other techniques, but not serve in infantry battalions.
These left leaning rose color glasses wearing types have made us weaker, emboldened our enemies and in many cases openly embarrassed them, and have caused untold American casualties.
They lack spine. They cannot tell the truth for fear they might offend someone. Why not say Islam is counter to Christianity and seeks to overpower us. Either by increasing population in places like Great Britain, or through terror all over the world, The Islamic culture is at the root of it all. So why not just say it?
They get pissed off and for folks like me, well, that doesn't matter. Let them stay that way. Sooner or later it gets the fight going that is coming anyway. Fight it now in their countries. Go after all the power bases we know of and utterly destroy them. We could then withdraw and strengthen our borders and our allies. Maybe let the 101st and 82'd Airborne divisions loose in England for a few weeks since that spineless government is all hell bent on appeasing the Allah followers.
Our Democrats would throw Christ followers into the fire in a New York second to keep from offending some Muslim and I say who cares. Let the camel jockey get pissed, know he is not amongst friends and throw a fit elsewhere. I don't see conservative politicians trying to kiss their butts and place them in seats of power all over out government. Does that make the democrats evil? Probably not in, in of itself, just overly stupid.
Is spending our economy into a "Must fail" mode responsible? Democrats want to do that as well. Democrats say we can't cut programs any deeper. I think they haven't looked hard enough. If you took everyone off of welfare who is not a citizen, there's a big savings. Next anyone on it more than two years, gone... Got to be big billions there. Next, let’s not jail illegal aliens, let’s put them to work cleaning sewers, doing dangerous jobs, and working on non critical infrastructure while they await deportation. There's a lot of money there saved. Lets drive them around in cattle cars like I was driven around in when I was a young soldier, have to save a bunch there as well.
In fact lets eliminate every support program for an illegal alien we have. If the women coming up from south of the border manage to have an "Anchor baby" here, let's remove the child from them, allow an American family to adopt the child then deport the family.
No free education for anyone who is not a citizen, but if you are, let's apply the money saved from welfare and other places and pay for free educations for Americans.
For every country like Korea where we maintain a standing Army, I'd say we give them a week to agree to pay us for that defense or we pull out and go home. That would immediately make our Armies a for profit organization. The monies they would create could be used to develop new weapons.
Eliminate any reference to the Spanish language. One day later and everything is in English.
Let's give our police a break with regard to illegal’s. Let's say they do a traffic stop and the illegal’s who might be drug runners act hostile and appear to pull a weapon. Should the police have to shoot them, then there are no repercussions when it is determined the offenders were here illegally.

All of those policies, although harsh would stop illegal immigrants cold in their tracks. Since we are spending hundreds of billions on the illegal alien problem, that money would be saved.
For the illegal’s we catch, I would send them by the millions to Fort Greely Alaska to labor camps. If they escaped they would freeze to death or be eaten by grizzly’s. The latter would have the positive effect of increasing the grizzly population which would allow for better bear hunting!

Next there would be an automatic 10% tax on every non-US imported product. If the company or country complained their complaint could be heard in court, but first that levy on their products would increase 1% more per year until the dispute was resolved.

Further we could sell our oil to OPEC, but at prices starting at 20% more than the oil trading on the Domestic market on any given day. Meanwhile I would direct all the useless money going into solar and wind technology and develop engines that ran on LNG. All the while selling oil to OPEC and the rest of the world.

How does all that tie into Democrats being evil, well it doesn't, but it does relate to them being blind and stupid, because nary a one would ever suggest anything anywhere near these measures. My plan would not only have us debt free, but could probably rebuild America and pay an annual dividend to Americans.

America would become filthy rich by world standards. I would have a democrat free council of clergy and leaders decide where 10% of every dime we made was spent. We'd spend it on strengthing similar cultures all over the world. If you were a Christian community in India, for example, let's help them build a church, while ignoring the Hindu and Muslim people who randomly kill them.

Since individual Americans would be much wealthier, a simple 10% across the board tax program would be levied and tens of thousands IRS folks be retasked or reduced. It would be a painless transition because companies would be knocking down doors to find talent.

For any American company starting up, no taxes for 5 years, then a reduced rate for five more years. Any foreign company, first based on expected sales, 10% of that would have to paid to us as an application fee. The purpose, make no mistake, would be to make it unfair toward them and more difficult to compete with a US company. See where I'm going with this? We get to pick the best companies to operate here, and if they agreed to move their monies here and become US companies, the increased fees would disappear.

Another thing that would happen is that The US would become a no-fault zone with regard to insurance. Someone runs into you, your insurance pays for everything, theirs for their costs. That would all but eliminate frivolous law suits. We'd have to do something with regard to medical care. If the doctor screwed up, we'd have to set some limits, somewhere around 10% of what it is now. Eliminating the legal costs would drive down the cost of medicine I think around 75% or perhaps a little more!

If you were an illegal alien and you had an accident then your insurance would pay for all damages and that insurance company would be fined a million dollars per incident. That would force the insurance companies to do their homework and the ancillary law would mandate that if they had knowledge of an illegal alien, they would have 24 hours to report that to law enforcement or face $100,000 a day in fines.

The Department of homeland security would be eliminated. The TSA would be eliminated. With the monies saved each state would be funded to develop a special division of their state troopers to do the same work.

I could go on, but this is a good start!

33525
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:42:26 PM »
Another CIEMR:

Hmmm, been slacking here!
I was thinking about the lunacy of the left as most recently demonstrated by the calls for gun control.
Of course anyone with any sense at all knows that guns in the hands of honest, law abiding citizens are a huge deterrent to crime.
Note: This simple fact is proof positive that the people who think like that are really stupid, nuff said.
So Colorado is hell bent on removing more guns. I guess they missed the point with gun registration and gun control with their Aurora theater shooting. OK, the facts: That theater was posted with signs forbidding guns within the establishment. The town of Aurora is heavily controlled with regard to gun ownership. The police chief wants Aurora to be a gun free zone. The shooter bought the gun legally, and actually went through the background check process.
So what did the people of Colorado learn from all of that:
1. Background checks do not stop crimes from being committed
2. Increased draconian gun control does not lower crime rate
3. Police having an attitude that gun control is a good thing is found to be wanting.
4. Allowing no guns in the theater did not stop the criminal.
5. A reasonable man could ascertain that if the sign were not there, perhaps some armed citizen inside could have subdued the shooter, reducing the number of casualties.
OK, all of that make sense?
If not stop reading and go away, as in a long way, as in many thousands of miles, please.
If you do, I would consider you normal and rational, because you looked at the facts and they lead you to a logical conclusion.
So with this glaring light of logic screaming the facts that what we need is actually more armed citizens, our elected leaders want in large part to take them away from us.
To a guy like me, knowing the people pulling the strings are very smart, I draw the lines to that conclusion which is, THEY are simply using the momentum of recent shooting events as a catapult to get our guns.
With the fact that DHS is buying billions of bullets, thousands of assault rifles, MRAP armored fighting vehicles, and currently restoring something between 800 to 900 prisoner camps, I have to wonder. It makes me think someone somewhere either knows something or needs a disarmed citizenry that will be easily rounded up and managed. I mean that's what logic dictates. Not the lies filled stuff we hear daily from our leaders that many of our lost youth, adolescents, and some others drink like kool-aid.
So for that very reason, the suspicion that some knucklehead communist buried in our government or perhaps controlling it through proxy might make a run on my nation, well that in itself is justification for we the people to arm ourselves to the teeth, don't you think?
In my men’s ministry class last night we were learning about the seasons of a man's life. 0-20 growing and the spring of life, 20-40 the summer characterized by acquiring knowledge, 40 something-60 the fall where we become accomplished and become mentors, and 60's and beyond, the winter where we have wisdom, are sought out for advice, and so forth.
One problem I see is that American men refuse to become Real Men. They hold off as long as they can before embracing the mature manhood that God created us to be. There are a host of 30 something men still gaming 20 or more hours a week. Gaming? Isn't that just playing, like children do? Well, deny it if you want, you'd only be lying to yourself, it is. If that took time away from bible study, communicating with your spouse or children or perhaps helping a friend, then you missed the mark...the word coming to mind is selfish.
So if men aren't maturing, then they are still just big powerful kids. Mostly brain dead and unable to reason, because reasoning is something that is a higher brain function that follows the acquisition of information (Knowledge). So while you're making the killer sniper shot in your evening round of Halo 3, someone much smarter than you and much more wicked is planning to destroy you or at least planning to neuter you.
So that leave the very, very few rest of us, who grew up, who are as smart as God intended us to be, and are paying attention. I would suggest for your own selfish future welfare, that you with your head stuck in game boy (Named that for a reason, think about it) that you find someone who has been paying attention and listen to them.
The time is fast approaching, I'm telling you. Lots of people are telling you. Get off the 6" exhaust tip and figure out what's going on. You will perish when the spoon feeding abruptly stops!

33527
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:38:27 PM »
From a British friend of mine, well sort of British...



1. Teaching Maths In 1970
A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100..
His cost of production is 4/5 of the price.
What is his profit?

2. Teaching Maths In 1980 A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100.
His cost of production is 80% of the price.
What is his profit?

3. Teaching Maths In 1990A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100.
His cost of production is £80.
How much was his profit?

4. Teaching Maths In 2000
A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100.
His cost of production is £80 and his profit is £20.
Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Maths In 2005 A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands.
Your assignment: Discuss how the birds and squirrels might feel as the logger cut down their homes just for a measly profit of £20.



6. Teaching Maths In 2009 A logger is arrested for trying to cut down a tree in case it may be offensive to Muslims or other religious groups not consulted in the application for the felling license. He is also fined a £100 as his chainsaw is in breach of Health and Safety legislation as it deemed too dangerous and could cut something. He has used the chainsaw for over 20 years without incident however he does not have the correct certificate of competence and is therefore considered to be a recidivist and habitual criminal. His DNA is sampled and his details circulated throughout all government agencies. He protests and is taken to court and fined another £100 because he is such an easy target.

When he is released he returns to find Gypsies have cut down half his wood to build a camp on his land. He tries to throw them off but is arrested, prosecuted for harassing an ethnic minority, imprisoned and fined a further £100. While he is in jail again the Gypsies cut down the rest of his wood and sell it on the black market for £100 cash. They also have a departure BBQ of squirrel and pheasant and leave behind several tons of rubbish and asbestos sheeting.

The forester on release is warned that failure to clear the fly tipped rubbish immediately at his own cost is an offence. He complains and is arrested for environmental pollution, breach of the peace and invoiced £12,000 plus VAT for safe disposal costs by a regulated government contractor.

Your assignment: How many times is the logger going to have to be arrested and fined before he realises that he is never going to make £20 profit by hard work and should give up, sign onto the dole and live off the state for the rest of his life?

7. Teaching Maths In 2010 A logger doesn’t sell a lorry load of timber because he can’t get a loan to buy a new lorry because his bank has spent all his and their money on a derivative of securitised debt related to sub-prime mortgages in Surrey and lost the lot, with only some government money left to pay a few million-pound bonuses to their senior directors and the traders who made the biggest losses.

The logger struggles to pay the £1,200 road tax on his old lorry. However, as it was built in the 1970s it no longer meets the emissions regulations and he is forced to scrap it.

Some Bulgarian loggers buy the lorry from the scrap merchant and put it back on the road. They undercut everyone on price for haulage and send their cash back home, while claiming unemployment for themselves and their relatives. If questioned they speak no English and it is easier to deport them at the governments expense. Following their holiday back home they return to the UK with different names and fresh girls and start again. The logg er protests, is accused of being a bigoted racist and as his name is on the side of his old lorry he is forced to pay £1,500 registration fees as a gang master.

The Government borrows more money to pay to the bankers as bonuses are not cheap. The parliamentarians feel they are missing out and claim the difference on expenses and allowances.
You do the maths.

8. Teaching Maths 2017 أ المسجل تبيع حموله شاحنة من الخشب من اجل 100 دولار.. صاحب تكلفة
> الانتاج 80 من
> الثمن. ما هو الربح له؟= 20

33529
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:35:24 PM »
Get involved folks!

My letter to my Senator, Mitch McConnell:

Senator McConnell,
Again sir allow me to thank you for doing a great job and putting up with the world of Washington, how difficult the latter must indeed be!
Senator, as a retired Army Officer and lawful gun owner I am extremely concerned with the posturing and fooling with the rules so to speak with regard to the gun control legislation. Sir, I believe you share my views that any legislation concerning even a limited excursion into gun control is nothing more that a foothold from which more attacks will be launched against our constitutional given right to bear arms and for self protection.
I recently discovered the constitution of China allows its citizens nearly all the same rights as we Americans enjoy, did you know that? However the lack of a second amendment right for Chinese to bear arms makes the document on which the other freedoms are espoused all but worthless!
Sir, I have been on some difficult missions, having served as a pilot in the 160th Special Operations Aviation at Ft. Campbell, and I realize some fights simply cannot be lost. They are the ones we go all the way with, only one guy coming home and all that. I mention that because this is such a fight. The left, riding high on their recent victory feels anything is possible, and you, sir have an enormous task at hand. But you must not fail us. You must stand fast, no matter what it costs you personally nor what it costs the republican party. No deals, nothing. A good and just America stands behind you and our numbers are many.
I fear should the liberals succeed in passing firearms registration, that action will lead eventually to an ever increasing bully state eventually knocking on individual's doors. Should that happen, my gut tells me the results will be catastrophic! I think we are indeed looking down the barrel, so to speak, at the ignition source for the next American Revolution, and not one of words and ideals.
Sir, stand fast. Like me you too stand at the frontier of freedom. Who would have ever imagined the place of battle is the capital of the greatest republic ever known. But, sir, you have chosen to be there. You have chosen to be the master of the fight just as I did when I volunteered then climbed into the cockpits of those Chinooks. Don't let us down, we have no recourse. Tell us what you need from us and we will answer, Talk to us, we are listening, watching, waiting.
God Bless you and all our lawmakers and national leaders. May God's wise counsel smite you with a strong resolve to restore our nation to one which both serves and fears a living God.
Thank You
Donald Harward
CW4, US Army, Ret.

33532
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:32:23 PM »
Do you see what all those crazed shooters in the last few years had in common?

Why is it that none of the disturbed and evil men, who steal guns, then go and kill movie-goers and children in school, has ever been identified as a conservative NRA member?

Ft. Hood~~~ Registered Democrat ~ Muslim
Columbine ~~~ Too young to vote; both families were registered Democrats and progressive liberals
Virginia Tech ~~~ Wrote hate mail to President Bush and to his staff ~ Registered Democrat
Colorado Theater ~~~ Registered Democrat; staff worker on the Obama campaign; Occupy Wall Street participant; progressive liberal
Connecticut School Shooter- ~~~ Registered Democrat; hated Christians
Common thread - all of these shooters were progressive liberal Democrats."

INTERESTING?

Seeing a pattern here??

Prepare...

33533
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:30:41 PM »
Inform yourself
What we lack, gentlemen in most cases is a broad reference base of knowledge. We are not as smart as we should be, and in a way that makes us lazy and irresponsible to our nation. We have to think nad be able to do so clearly and critically if we are to be able to make correct decisions about the matters at hand.
I could go on and on about how I learned that lesson, but you need to learn the lesson as well. Get smart while holding onto your bedrock belief in the almighty and your good common sense. With that you will be well equipped to fight the beast who day by advancing day, continuing to show himself all the more. He is wrapped in the cloak of political correctness which in it's basic form is the lack of courage and lying, nothing more. Yet this concept has somehow been elevated to the level of a linguistic art form. I say Bull crap, a turd in a hot dog bun is still a turd.
Watch this Power point presentation and learn from it. It if a statement of fact and shows how the left works (Lies). Learn the truth and you will disarm the enemy who is revealing itself as some of our fellow countrymen (Not fellow patriots) and some of our goverment. Learn, sharpen your mind!

http://www.assaultweapon.info/

33534
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:29:33 PM »
You might be a liberal if:

You really believe the president will get anything done with gun control!

Folks, we have justice, righteousness, goodness, honor, and the constitution on our side. The liberal idiots have none of that. They only have their imagined mental superiority. Personally, I'm happy that they think they are mentally ahead of the curve...It's good for one's enemy to be living a dream, only to be quickly and easily knocked off that pedestal once someone with common sense and a big bat comes along.
Folks we are that person. We will stand up to the federal goverment bullying us because, WE ARE THE UNITED STATES! Did you get that, did you hear me? It's us not them. They sit behind a very thin veil of laws and regulation which holds it all together. But now that the laws are beginning to extend beyond the veil of the constitution, do we have to follow them? THe answer is a resounding, of course not!
As an Army soldier I and everyone else was well briefed and educated on a what constitutes a legal order, and what an illegal order looks like.
Go out and gun down the people of that village is obviously an illegal order. "Gentlemen, there are insurgents in that village, lets go get them is a legal order. If during the fighting some innocents are injured, that is obviously not desirable, however understood and allowed for. If during that fray I see a soldier for no reason gun down an innocent, that is no longer combat, he has commited a crime.
I'm talking thin lines here and for the most part we the people know about that line. If an arresting police officer comes into your home to arrest a family menber who has commited a crime, that is allowable and a part of our system. If however, while arresting the criminal the police begin to sexually assault your wife, that is obviously crossing the line. What do you do in that case? Stand there and watch? Beat the officer over the head? Well either is legally acceptable, you see, you have the right to defend yourself and what is yours.
Read the 3rd amendment, it is very important. It protects us from goverment overbearances which has become the flavor of the day. We are right and we are lawful obeyers of our constitution and have the full force of that on our side. No executive order can change that, and the constitution has not been changed, and that process would be a long and difficult one. So if the goverment, or part of it steps out past the veil of the constitution do we have to comply or obey? Hell no we don't have to, because in a strange turn of events we become the people in the right, and not the authority st hand, which iunder this scenerio has now become the criminal element...Make sense?
There are some politics playing out here. Feinstien does not have the poser to get anything done, so the left is making a bunch of noise to get us all wipped up into a frenzy. I believe the want us to revolt to do something unlawful to clearly put and place ourselves as the criminal element. It would seem the lefties are setting this all up.
Remember the 23 executive orders that the president signed? Check out the white house web site. Where are these executive orders our president signed in front of those children?
They do not exist!!!!!!!! Check it out for yourself! They are proclaminations and memorandums which show intent but have no specific power! Yup, it was all a game! IT was set up to get a reaction from us, to get us to do something, to get a reaction.
How low can you go you ask? Apparently you can stoop to trying to incite violence because, I can't see what other purpose that show would have served.
Let all this serve notice: The game is afoot. THe left will resort to anything. Saul Lewensky (or however you spell that traitor's name) clearly states "The end justifies the means!" They, the liberal radicals will do anything to get their socialist disarmed God hating society. I say to hell with them. As a Christian I am simply stating a fact, anyone who holds to Liberal beliefs is clearly a God hater and destined to an eternity in hell, so I am really only stating the obvious. Hold to your constitution and prepare. Do nothing except to love your family and your neighbor, but we shall not budge, not one inch. On the other side of this thin line is tyranny, murder, subjugation, loss of freedom, and the death of our republic.
Remember also Japan did not invade the US following Pearl harbor because Yamamoto warned the imperial japanese command that there would literally be a rifle behind every blade of grass.
Make no mistake, guns keep us free from tyranny. Liberal idiots believe there wayt is the elightened path for all us poor rednecks. Well most of us rednecks have more education than our liberal counterparts. We have more common sense, by far, and we grow all the food. We do just about everything that produces or contributes to our society in a real way, except for possibly the modern art thing. Nope haven't seen much of that in the local communities!!!

Check out this link discussing the supposed signing of the executive orders. It casts the light of doubt on the whole event as being legitimate:

What did Obama REALLY sign? It wasn't Executive Orders! - Tea Party Command Center

33535
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:16:42 PM »
Wow, is Illinois and Chicago great or what?

Perhaps the U.S. should pull out of Chicago ?

Body count: In the last 12 months 500 murdered in Chicago .

221 killed in Iraq

Chicago has one of the strictest gun laws in
the entire US....In fact there are NO private citizens that are issued a
concealed carry permit and they do not recognize carry permits from any
other state. This so called "black state" allows only police and military to
carry weapons and the gun violence is the highest in the nation.

President: Barack Hussein Obama

Senator: Dick Durbin

House Representative: Jesse Jackson Jr.

Governor: Pat Quinn

House leader: Mike Madigan

Atty. Gen.: Lisa Madigan (daughter of Mike)

Mayor: Rahm Emanuel

The leadership in Illinois - all Democrats.

Thank you for the combat zone in Chicago .

Of course, they're all blaming each other.

Can't blame Republicans; there aren't any!

Chicago school system rated one of the worst in the country.

Can't blame Republicans; there aren't any!

State pension fund $78 Billion in debt, worst in country.

Can't blame Republicans; there aren't any!

Cook County ( Chicago ) sales tax 10.25% highest in country.

Can't blame Republicans; there aren't any!

This is the political culture that Obama comes from in
Illinois .

And he is going to 'fix' Washington politics for us???

George Ryan is no longer Governor, he is in the big house.

Of course he was replaced by Rob Blajegovitch who is...that' s right, also
in the big house.

And Representative Jesse Jackson Jr. resigned a couple of weeks ago.

That is because he is fighting being sent to...that' s right, the big house.

The Land of Lincoln , where our governors make our license plates.

33536
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:15:26 PM »
You may be a liberal if:

You heard we are heading toward a fiscal clift, yet you voted for a guy who's campaign motto was "FORWARD"

33537
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:14:49 PM »
You may be a liberal if:

You believe Islam really is the religion of peace!

33538
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:14:25 PM »
You may be a liberal if

Arizona is a safer place because of all the illegal immigrants

33539
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:08:01 PM »
You may be a liberal if:

You watch Michael Moore movies
...and enjoy them!

33540
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:06:09 PM »
You might be a liberal if

you believe in taxing people into prosperity

33541
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:05:43 PM »
You might be a liberal if

All your friends are gay, communist, actors, tax cheats, terrorists, muslims, and professors at the university of Chicago

33542
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:05:05 PM »
You might be a liberal if

You believe giving social security checks to Illegal imigrants for work they did while in the US where they paid no taxes or social security is a good idea!

33543
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:04:46 PM »
You might be a Liberal if:

You think Obama pays your welfare from his own money!

33544
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:04:25 PM »
OK,
I'll start this off:

You might be a Liberal if:

You think Gun control is not about a steady aim!

33545
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 05:01:55 PM »
Why even have states?

If I was an off planet observer with little knowledge of history say, having just arrived from the planet leftist I wouldn’t understand the need for states in this country of western Europe called the United States. OK, I'll just be that space travler.

It seems all the logic, wisdom and guidance we would ever need comes from one central ruling city. The people living in that ruling city must all be much smarter and have the ability to rule over all of us in a fair and uniform manner, because according to my briefing prior to arriving from the space corridor, My manual on the United States told me that the people there elected their leaders. And in my world, it would be logical for the people to elect their very best and brightest. So I am perplexed over this concept of states, why is there the need for them?

From what I have monitored of the radio and television intercepts this central ruling city continually comes up with rules which they call laws and then apply them to everyone. If alligator hunting is banned in certain months in Louisiana, then that rule should equally apply to the people in Alaska, right? So if all these people are supposed to be alike why is there any confusion? If they all get together to elect one guy to run everything, then these disorganized people would be a lot better off and have less confusion if they just listened to him to run their lives, right? Err, I mean left? Political analysis by my learning computer suggests this man is taking over at the moment, so it would seem the people are finally getting it right, well left.

Still this concept of states is puzzling and very damaging to the peace and the order from what I can determine. For example there are these people called Texans who seem to be perpetually confused. It seems they disagree with just about everything the ruling city comes up! Now why would that be. My computer suggests they suffer from a mental disorder and are possibly of lower intellect than the others. Me, I just don’t know, but something is surely wrong with them. Oddly there are others afflicted by the same sickness. I believe they have already identified the mental condition which they refer to frequently as conservatism. There was something on my planet akin to that centuries ago but our brilliant scientists were able to eliminate it through a surgical procedure where they removed our brains and replaced them with receiver units which were connected to our central control over on the left side of our world. Oddly enough, our planet has no right side, you just keep going left and end up eventually back at the left!

Back to this problem I have with understanding the need for states. Everyone is the same right, err, excuse me left? If the people living in Detroit are the same as those living in Alabama, then why need two different states? Those from New York have the exact same wants needs desires and so forth as those from Mississippi, correct? (Didn’t say right just then) If the pilgrims who settled the area called New England are the same as some people called Apache Indians, then why are they wasting all the effort and expense of having other rulers run the smaller states. Why doesn’t everyone just listen to the one they picked to be their ruler? Very confusing these humans, these Americans.

My other friends report that things are much better off in their regions of study. One Karlmarx says that China is one big happy place where the ruler there makes decisions for all of his subjects. And Billayers, my friend, is overlooking another bigger area called Islam. He says everyone seems to be happy there and even though there are many countries in that region, this thing called Islam is really the power that runs it all. Oddly I don’t recall him ever mentioning any opinions given by the women there, probably just forgot to mention them. And my closest buddy Stallen who oversees Europe reports that the concept of country and state and individual is all but gone, so things are going very well in Europe it would seem.

Back to my troublesome United States. The more I research the more infected people I find. I saw one map of infected areas, This map show the healthy areas shaded in blue. Those tiny areas were all but covered by the horrid mass of orange, the color of the infected lower intellect people. I don’t know how, but the blue areas still control all the orange areas, so they will have a lot of disinfecting to do if they are ever to get America left, err, I mean, healthy.

Even though I am not supposed to interfere with these American humans I feel compelled to. Everyone knows an individual is not intelligent enough to make decisions for himself or herself, right, err, I mean left? That is best left up to the ruler. We once had a collective to make our decisions for us, but eventually, after they removed all our brains, we just leave it up to the ruler. Don’t these humans realize that one cannot make a sound decision all by themselves? If that person running New York city were just allowed to make the decisions for the cattle rancher in Montana these people could enjoy peace and equality. It all makes perfect sense if you really don’t think about it, and that is why I think I am going to help the lefties (as I like to call them) remove the brains of all the infected people, and if I can get away with it, I’m starting with that place called Texas. You know why??? Because they say “Don’t mess with Texas” and we just can’t have attitudes like that running around spoiling it for the bright lefties, now can we?

OK, enough with this journal entry, we’re making a big left turn for a landing to meet with their ruler. He is very insightful, but (and I’m only saying this because this is my journal) he doesn’t seem to be all that smart. I plan to talk to him about just having the brains removed from all the infected people so they will be just like the healthy people of the left. I think my plan will save him a lot of effort with all this talk which seems to go on forever. So come on people, let’s get left!

33546
Coffee Induced Early Morning Rant / Re: CIEMR
« on: September 15, 2014, 04:59:24 PM »
From Shawn:

Think local, local, local

I personally have more hope for us the midwest than the coasts. Riot here? Maybe Detroit, what little there is left of it. Yeah, like Don stated. Ain't gonna happen or if it does it will be on a small scale. We're just not going to put up with that nonsense very long.

We are heavy industry here (like I've said before largest congressional manufacturing district in the US) and the powers that be will need to keep manufacturing going if it is only for them to keep making stuff of war regardless of who the enemy is. Believe it or not most of the heavy manufacturing here locally is still privately held or a majority stake is anyhow. Not to mention all of the service industry that is all privately held that allows the manufacturing to do their jobs.

The management of these companies know how to manage, this does not mean they know how to make the machines run, I see this time and time again. From the huge multi billion dollar steel mills to the shops I personally manage. Ashley, I'm sure the same can be said for the energy industry as well. Bottom line, we the true patriots have a say that I do not believe that they have calculated into their equation. We (blue collar guys) will pull together and light will prevail. We make those elites worlds go around and you had better be sure they still want it to keep going.


33547
Bikes Motorcycles, S x S's, Tractors, and Mowers / Re: DR-650 Build Thread
« on: September 15, 2014, 04:45:01 PM »
Nope, that's not my license plate.

Just an aft view of the bike before the mods begin...

For a purchase price of $3350, an excellent buy and starting point me thinks!

33548
Bikes Motorcycles, S x S's, Tractors, and Mowers / Re: DR-650 Build Thread
« on: September 15, 2014, 04:43:15 PM »
Pre installed bo-bo
Heck I just might leave it there...it still works!

33549
Bikes Motorcycles, S x S's, Tractors, and Mowers / Re: DR-650 Build Thread
« on: September 15, 2014, 04:41:25 PM »
The Voyager GPS speedo/timer/computer thing...and the padding on the bars

33550
Bikes Motorcycles, S x S's, Tractors, and Mowers / Re: DR-650 Build Thread
« on: September 15, 2014, 04:40:16 PM »
Some kind of super cool handlebars

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