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GREAT BOOK! Order HERE!

Support a veteran story of sacrifice, redemption and hope. I have planned and flown with this Soldier in the 101st Airborne Division, and The 160th SOAR.

This books offers 1) the humility of a man who gave his life in service to you, and 2) hard earned lessons-learned from a seasoned warrior.

You can message me if you would like to book a speaking engagement with Eric.

NSDQ! & LLTB!

The Silver Star at just 18 Years old: (Then) Private First Class Monica Lin Brown served as a medic in Army. She deployed to Afghanistan at the age of 18 with the 4th Squadron, 73d Cavalry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team, 82nd Airborne Division. When her convoy came under attack on April 25, 2007, she braved explosions and enemy fire to treat the wounded. One vehicle hit an IED and exploded. Brown moved through small arms fire to the vehicle and began moving casualties away from the wreckage. She treated them only 15 meters from the burning vehicle. Enemy mortars began falling around, and ammo inside the vehicle started cooking off.
Shrapnel and bullets filled the air all around from incoming enemy mortars and exploding friendly mortar rounds, 40mm grenades, and 5.56 ammo on the truck. Other soldiers arriving discovered that, miraculously, Brown was still alive. They moved her and the wounded to another area, where Brown continued her treatment and preparations for medevac.

For her courage and unselfishness remaining with the wounded and protecting them amidst the most dangerous conditions, Brown was awarded the Silver Star. The ceremony came a year after the action and her promotion to Specialist.
#military

Operation Northern Delay:

On March 26, 2003, during the 2003 invasion of Iraq, 1,000 paratroopers or “Sky Soldiers” from the 173rd Airborne Brigade jumped into Bashur, Iraq as part of Operation Northern Delay.

Operation Northern Delay was the last large-scale combat parachute operation conducted by the U.S. military since Operation Just Cause in 1989. The operation was the first strategic brigade airdrop using C-17 aircraft in formation, integrating a conventional Army airborne brigade within the 10th Special Forces Group, and integrating an armored battalion into an airborne operation.

101st Airborne first Army unit to field Next Generation Squad Weapons
https://www.armytimes.com/news/your-army/2024/03/29/101st-airborne-first-army-unit-to-field-next-generation-squad-weapons/

Green Beret Foundation
·
1st Lt. Robert L. Howard, was awarded the Medal of Honor for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as platoon sergeant of an American-Vietnamese platoon which was on a mission to rescue a missing American soldier in enemy controlled territory in Vietnam. He retired at the rank of Colonel in 1992.

Visit the following link to read COL Howard’s Medal of Honor citation:
https://www.cmohs.org/recipients/robert-l-howard
5th Special Forces Group - Airborne

War History Online
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Stained glass window dedicated to the 101st Airborne paratroopers in the church at Angoville-au-Plain, Manche, Normandy, France.

This church, which served as an aid station during the Battle of Normandy in World War II, was tended by US Army Medics Robert Wright and Ken Moore of the 101st Airborne, treating 80 wounded soldiers, both American and German, as well as a child, with blood stains still visible on the pews.

Today, two stained glass windows commemorate the bravery of the 101st Airborne Division and the American parachutists, specifically honoring the two medics from the 2nd Battalion of the 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment (101st Airborne Division).

A Father’s Pride in His Late Son’s Service
Commentary: A Father’s Pride in His Late Son’s Service
By Army Maj. Gen. Kurt J. Stein

Special to American Forces Press Service

WASHINGTON, March 15, 2010 – While flying on United Airlines last week, I overheard a telephone conversation from a gentleman seated directly behind me. His words went something like this: "Although today was an extremely sad day for me - it was absolutely the happiest day of my life, and I am proud to be an American."

This gentleman went on to talk about a funeral he attended in South Carolina, and specifically gave great kudos to the U.S. Army for the professionalism displayed at this service. He went into great detail about the funeral service itself and how it was conducted. He went on to say that Jeremiah really enjoyed serving in the Army, and now, he clearly understood why.

My ears immediately perked up when I overheard him talk about the Army in such a positive way. He boasted about the General who presented the flags to him and his family, the sharp-looking soldiers of the salute battery, the sounds of taps, how the soldiers stood at attention for such a long period of time, how the military paid for his family to fly to South Carolina, the number of letters and calls he received from Jeremiah's command, how the Red Cross assisted, and so on. He could not say enough great things about our Army.

I quickly pulled a two-star card from my briefcase and wrote him a thank-you note for his kind words about our Army. He had no clue I was in the Army since I was in civilian clothes. Within seconds, he tapped me on the shoulder and with tears in his eyes proceeded to tell me the rest of the story.

The gentleman's name is Robert Wittman. He was flying with his entire family: wife, son, daughter, Mom, Dad, grandparents and friends. They were carrying home the cremated remains of his son, Sgt. Jeremiah T. Wittman of the 4th Infantry Division, who was killed in Afghanistan on Feb. 13.

Dad told me that Jeremiah already had two tours in Iraq and ultimately gave his life in Afghanistan. While in Iraq the first time, Jeremiah's vehicle was hit by an improvised explosive device, and several of his buddies were severely injured. He went on to say that his son truly loved the Army and did what he did from the heart.

His dad was a proud man. He did say that he often wondered why his son stayed in the Army after his initial attack in Iraq. Now that he saw the U.S. Army in action at the funeral, he said – as he had on the phone earlier -- that he now understands why.

Dad proudly held up the urn and boasted about how beautiful it was, and he continued to brag about the Army for all to hear. The folks around him listened with big ears and inspiration.

I must admit, although it really was a beautiful urn and a wonderful Army story - it brought a slight tear to my eye, as I, too, have a son —- a captain in the 82nd Airborne Division -- serving in Afghanistan, and this moment hit home.

Bottom line: Although the family was saddened by the loss of their son, they were all proud to be associated with the U.S. Army. I could see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. Why? Simply because of the way they were treated by our Army family at the funeral. The 4th ID leadership and others involved did it up right and made a positive, lifetime-lasting impact with this family.

Great job!

To top off a memorable flight, when the aircraft came to a halt the pilot announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. Among us today is a Great American Soldier named Sgt. Jeremiah Wittman, killed in action on 13 February. Our deepest sympathy, respect and sorrow go out to the Wittman family. We ask that you honor Sergeant Wittman -- our fallen hero -- the entire Wittman family and our armed forces by remaining seated and allowing the family to depart the aircraft first.”

At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop in the aircraft, but within seconds, everyone on the aircraft was clapping as the family departed on their way.

The family departed feeling special and honored. I sat there proud to be an American Soldier
(Army Maj. Gen. Kurt J. Stein is the commanding general of U.S. Army TACOM Life Cycle Management Command.)

The Giant Killer
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God Bless this Hero!

Private Cleto Rodriguez brazenly attacked an enemy fortress to save his platoon during the Battle of Manila, heroics for which he received the nation’s highest military honor the Medal of Honor:

On February 9, 1945, 21-year-old US Army Private Cleto L. Rodriguez rushed across smoking rubble and into withering Japanese gunfire on the island of Luzon in the Philippines.

For nearly a week, he and his fellow soldiers from Company B, 2nd Battalion, 148th Infantry Regiment of the 37th Infantry Division battled to liberate the capital city from a determined enemy.

The American advance had pushed the Japanese back to the Paco District’s once-elegant railway station, situated on the broad Plaza Dilao.

Three companies of die-hard Japanese marines were busily fortifying the building.

Nearly invisible entrenched fighting positions dotted the area.

Sandbag-lined pillboxes and bunkers protected well-armed and equipped defenders.

Rodriguez’s platoon launched a frontal assault against the station across the wide expanse, but enemy fire pinned them down 100 yards from the building.

Rodriguez developed a plan to save his platoon with Private First Class John N. Reese, Jr., a fellow 21-year-old automatic rifleman and full-blooded Cherokee from Pryor, Oklahoma.

Living up to the words on their regimental patch, “WE’LL DO IT,” the two grabbed as many grenades and magazines for their Browning Automatic Rifles as they could carry and ran through enemy fire toward the train station.

Even in urban combat where dangers multiply, Rodriguez was not panicked.

“I have never known fear,” he later claimed.

At a young age he had become acquainted with hardship.

Born in San Marcos, Texas in 1923, he lost his parents at only nine years old.

Selling newspapers to support his family, he often slept in the San Antonio Express’s building so he could wake up early enough to deliver the papers before school.

Rodriguez dropped out before graduating and joined a gang, leading to an aggressiveness that served him well after volunteering for the Army in March 1943 and joining the “Buckeye Division.”

Up against 300 enemy troops, the two Americans fired and maneuvered as a disciplined team.

Clearing hostile positions as they went, the pair of BAR men patiently pushed to within 20 yards of the station’s main entrance.

Without regard for his safety, Private Rodriguez destroyed a 20mm gun and machine gun from close range.

After two-and-a-half hours, the two were out of grenades and had nearly burned through all their ammunition.

With the help of Reese’s suppressive fire, Rodriguez made it back safely to friendly lines.

The Oklahoman, however, fell to a sniper’s bullet while reloading.

Both soldiers displayed exceptional bravery, resulting in 82 enemy troops killed.

With the platoon from Company B no longer caught in a deadly position, the American advance continued.

Rodriguez once again took the initiative only two days later, single-handedly killing six enemy soldiers and destroying a 20mm gun.

President Harry S. Truman presented newly promoted Technical Sergeant Rodriguez with the Congressional Medal of Honor, the first Mexican American in the Pacific theater of operations to receive the nation’s highest military award.

One of the most decorated soldiers in the PTO, Rodriguez also received the Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart, and numerous other awards.

For his bravery on February 9, Private Reese received the Medal of Honor posthumously.

After the war, Technical Sergeant Rodriguez returned to San Antonio to a hero’s welcome.

He left the Army in December 1945 and worked for the Veterans Administration, where he began a lifelong commitment to help fellow Hispanic Americans receive continuing education and skills training.

In 1952, Rodriguez rejoined the service, initially with the US Air Force before transferring to the Army, retiring in 1970 as a master sergeant.

On December 7, 1990, Rodriguez died at 67 years old.

He is buried at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery in San Antonio, the final resting place of eleven other Medal of Honor recipients, six of whom are fellow WWII veterans.

MEDAL OF HONOR CITATION:
“The President of the United States of America, in the name of Congress, takes pleasure in presenting the Medal of Honor to Technical Sergeant Cleto L. Rodriguez, United States Army, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action above and beyond the call of duty on 9 February 1945, while serving with Company B, 148th Infantry Regiment, 37th Infantry Division.

Technical Sergeant Rodriguez was an automatic rifleman when his unit attacked the strongly defended Paco Railroad Station during the battle for Manila, Philippine Islands.

While making a frontal assault across an open field, his platoon was halted 100 yards from the station by intense enemy fire.

On his own initiative, he left the platoon, accompanied by a comrade, and continued forward to a house 60 yards from the objective.

Although under constant enemy observation, the two men remained in this position for an hour, firing at targets of opportunity, killing more than 35 hostile soldiers and wounding many more.

Moving closer to the station and discovering a group of Japanese replacements attempting to reach pillboxes, they opened heavy fire, killed more than 40 and stopped all subsequent attempts to man the emplacements.

Enemy fire became more intense as they advanced to within 20 yards of the station.

Then, covered by his companion, Private Rodriguez boldly moved up to the building and threw five grenades through a doorway killing 7 Japanese, destroying a 20-mm gun and wrecking a heavy machinegun.

With their ammunition running low, the two men started to return to the American lines, alternately providing covering fire for each other's withdrawal.

During this movement, Private Rodriguez' companion was killed.

In 2 1/2 hours of fierce fighting the intrepid team killed more than 82 Japanese, completely disorganized their defense, and paved the way for the subsequent overwhelming defeat of the enemy at this strongpoint.

Two days later, Private Rodriguez again enabled his comrades to advance when he single-handedly killed six Japanese and destroyed a well-placed 20-mm gun by his outstanding skill with his weapons, gallant determination to destroy the enemy, and heroic courage in the face of tremendous odds, Private Rodriguez, on two occasions, materially aided the advance of our troops in Manila.”

Photo of President Harry S. Truman presents Cleto Rodriguez with the Medal of Honor on the White House Lawn on October 12, 1945. Signal Corps photograph.

The Giant Killer book & page honors these war heroes the book details the incredible life of the smallest soldier, Green Beret Captain Richard Flaherty along with the harrowing stories from the men of the 101st Airborne in Vietnam.

The Giant Killer FB page honors these incredible war heroes making sure their stories of valor and sacrifice are never forgotten.

God Bless our Vets!

via: The 75th Ranger Regiment
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Honoring our Fallen Hero:

Sergeant Bradley S. Crose
Operation Anaconda
March 3, 2002

Bradley S. Crose, 22, was from Orange Park, Florida, and volunteered for military service with the United States Army, June 6, 1998.

He completed basic training and advanced individual training in the military operational specialty of infantryman at Fort Benning, Georgia. Sergeant Crose volunteered for the second time to attend Airborne School and completed his airborne training at Fort Benning, Georgia. On November 20, 1998, he was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment at Hunter Army Airfield, Georgia. He earned his Ranger Tab at Fort Benning. He was also a graduate of the Primary Leadership Development Course.

Sergeant Crose held many positions while assigned to 1st Battalion.

He was killed while fighting the Taliban and Al-Qaeda during Operation Anaconda, the most intense fighting thus far in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan. He died March 3 in combat after enemy gunfire forced down a MH-47 Chinook helicopter, in which he and his fellow Rangers were aboard.

As a Ranger, Sergeant Crose distinguished himself as a member of the Army’s premier light-infantry unit and was a highly trained and motivated soldier.

He is survived by his father Mr. Ricky Crose, and his mother Ms. Sheila Maguhn, both of Orange Park, Florida.

Rangers Lead The Way!

via: The Giant Killer
·
In 1966, US Army Staff Sgt. Barry Sadler debuted his song "Ballad of the Green Berets" on the Ed Sullivan Show. SSG Sadler served with 7th Special Forces Group (Airborne) as a Special Forces Medic, Sadler co-wrote the Ballad with Robin Moore who wrote the book, “The Green Berets”, which would later on be turned into a film starring John Wayne.

#greenberet #militaryhistory #johnwayne #barrysadler #army

Triple Canopy - Airborne, Ranger and Special Forces
·
First day, Desert Storm, 1991, February 25:

Seventy miles to the east, eight Special Forces soldiers from ODA 525 landed near the small village of Swayjghazi. CWO “Bulldog” Balwanz had his team dig two hide sites, 300 yards west Highway 7. This team had the same problem as Sims’ Team. They did not think that villagers would be wandering around their position, located near a drainage ditch. However as soon as the sun came up shepherds led their goats near the Special Forces team, while women and children gathered firewood. Just like Sims’ Team, children discovered the hide site. Balwanz knew that they could not shoot children, so after they were discovered the Team moved 400 yards away and into a muddy ditch. The children returned with a young man, who spotted the Americans. “As-Salaam Aleykum” Balwanz called to him, but the young man turned and hurried back to the village.

Thirty villagers returned, armed with rifles. As they fanned out across the field four trucks arrived, along with a bus and a Land Rover. The vehicles unloaded 150 Iraqi soldiers. Balwanz called XVIII Corps headquarters and told them that he needed immediate extraction and air support. Balwanz ordered his men to pile all their rucksacks and equipment outside the ditch, and then primed it with a block of C-4 plastic explosive. The Americans only kept their weapons, ammo, and a single satellite radio. The C-4 exploded just as a group of Iraqis reached the pile.

Bullets tore through the dirt around them, as the Americans returned fire with M16s and M203 grenade launchers. The Iraqis resorted to human wave attacks, but they never quite understood the accuracy of American soldiers.

In just the first ten minutes of the fight Balwanz and his men killed about forty Iraqi soldiers. The fighting continued, with no end in sight. Though the field was littered with Iraqi bodies, the men did not see any rescue in their future. Balwanz saw his men wave farewell to each other across the sides of the ditch.

Just as the Iraqis were close enough to rush the Team, several F-16s arrived and dropped cluster bombs on the highway. Balwanz used his survival radio to direct bombs to within 200 yards of his position. A group of Iraqis charged down the ditch, trying to stay clear of the F-16s, but Balwanz and one of his sergeants stopped their attack.

Balwanz moved his men 300 yards away in all the chaos, without the Iraqis being aware of it. After an hour and a half two rescue helicopters were able to land right on top of the team, and rescue Balwanz and his men.

With 150 Iraqis dead in the field, it probably seemed to the Iraqis that they had been rescued from the demons that had been unleashed upon their small village.

HOOAH!

Worth a read...

Strong words from Soldiers such as Willy McTear come in Loud and Clear to Leaders, if they have the stones to face such realities and they provide us, as a Nation, with some Hard Truths that must be heard/faced.

How our Vietnam Veterans were treated upon their return from the green hell of that conflict is something every American who is worthy of such a title should be ashamed of. That must Never happen again... it is Ok, and Right even to hate War (I know that first hand), but when we hate Our Warriors, well, that Must Never Happen Again...

May God Bless our Vietnam Veterans, May He bring them a calm to their heads and hearts from such memories, and grant them Peace for the rest of their days - we must Never Forget how we treated them upon their return to our Homeland, ever...

SALUTE!

via: The Giant Killer
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Powerful words from a Vietnam vet!

Photo of Willie McTear, McTear served in Charlie Company of the Army 9th Division's 4th Battalion, 47th Infantry Regiment, 1967.

McTear gives his opinion of the draft, the brotherhood of war, and what it was like to be spit on & cursed at upon his return from Nam.

"I’m just one of the approximate 9,000 men who were drafted and made up the Ninth Infantry Division. This is my opinion based on my personal experience.

We, the draftees, were designated well in advance for the Ninth Division to occupy the Mekong Delta.

We fought in the most difficult terrain in all of South Vietnam: jungles, mud and swamps. The only volunteers were the officers. The rest of the entire division, with exception of some non-commissioned officers, were draftees. I was in one of the first integrated companies of all draftees.

We had the best officer, Jack Benedict. Rest In Peace.

Each patrol was a suicide mission. We would have liked the choice to choose the branch of service and a Military Occupational Speciality. But that was not an option for draftees, only a carrot that was dangled to get us to enlist.

We viewed this as punishment for not volunteering. We all gave some and some gave all. R.I.P.

After several firefights we realized how the draft board and America really felt about us. Sergeant Bill Reynolds said it best. “America is not with us.”

Enough said.

Without a word said, we understood that we had a special bond and from this point on we will fight for each other because we had been abandoned.

More abandonment was revealed and manifested upon our arrival home, not as heroes but as villains. We were spat on and cursed at. Our government didn’t have the decency to give us a heads up upon our arrival.
That hurt really deep.

The wounds inflicted are invisible and manifested in many ways. Many of us grapple with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and a sense of not belonging and not being good enough to be accepted as Soldiers.

So thank you draft board for souls lost and lives destroyed beyond repair.

I try not to remember the suffering you inflicted upon us, but remember our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility and the courage to endure past and current hardships.

I think I can speak for the Ninth Division, 4th Battalion, 47th Infantry and especially Charlie Company.

God did through Andrew Wiest what we could not do for ourselves when he wrote the book, The Boys of ’67: Charlie Company’s War in Vietnam.

Writer and arm-chair general Abigail Pfeiffer said it best: “Wiest addresses the ugliness and humanity of war but also the loving bonds that are created between Men who experienced war together and the indelible marks it leaves on their minds.”

And a big thank you to National Geographic for “Brothers in War,” for bringing The Boys of ’67 to life with that documentary, the story of Charlie Company.

To the draft board, we forgive you, but we hope and pray the draft board will be eliminated."
- Willie McTear

The Giant Killer book & page honors these incredible war heroes making sure their stories of valor and sacrifice are never forgotten. The book which features the incredible life of the smallest soldier, Green Beret Captain Richard Flaherty (101st Airborne & 3rd SF Group 46th Co.) and several of the other heroes featured on this page is available on Amazon & Walmart. God Bless our Vets!

via: Special Operations Association
February 18, 2019
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Today we pause to remember SFC William “Buck” M. Fernandez, TF2A3 Covey Rider, and 1LT James L. Hull, Pilot.

1LT Hull was a Covey Forward Air Controller assigned to the 20th Tactical Air Support Squadron at Da Nang. 1LT Hull and SFC Fernandez were flying an O-2A (#68-11001) searching for an Army helicopter shot down in southern Laos. They were shot down and crashed near Ban Pelou, 55 miles west of Da Nang. Neither survived the crash. An Army Special Forces team reached the crash site and recovered SFC Fernandez’s body, but 1LT Hull’s body was trapped in the wreckage and could not be recovered.

William Fernandez was born into a military family. Born in Little Rock, Arkansas, he was raised on various Army posts, both overseas and stateside. He had four brothers and four sisters. His father, CSM George Fernandez , and three of his brothers also served in Vietnam (all in Airborne units).

He entered the Army 1956 in Richmond, Virginia and was on his third tour in Vietnam. A brief history of his assignments are Basic Training at Ft Jackson, SC, AIT at Fort Gordon, GA, Airborne School and assigned to 2d Battalion 327th Infantry, 101st Airborne Div, Fort Campbell Ky. Around 1960, he joined the Special Forces at Fort Bragg. His first Special Forces assignment was in Panama. He was later assigned to Special Forces in Okinawa and Korea. Between Vietnam tours, he served at Bragg as a Special Forces instructor. He was survived by two children, his parents and siblings. He is buried in the Fort Bragg Main Post Cemetery, Fort Bragg, NC.

In 2006, it was announced that 1LT Hull’s remains had been located and positively identified and would be returned to his family for burial. Between 1993 and 1997, the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command led three investigations with U.S. and Socialist Republic of Vietnam (S.R.V.) teams, and one trilateral investigation with a Lao People's Democratic Republic team. During the first investigation, the team interviewed a Vietnamese citizen who produced human remains and an identification tag for Hull that he claimed to have recovered from a crash site located just inside Laos. The joint team was not allowed to cross the border and the investigation was suspended. The Vietnamese turned over the bone fragment to U.S. officials, but the ID tag's whereabouts are still unknown. Additional investigations yielded some information concerning a crash site located just inside the Laotian border. The S.R.V. allowed a Vietnamese national to walk to the purported crash site and collect a fragment of the wreckage. Based on the location, type of aircraft and retrieved wreckage, analysts determined it was Hull's crash site. In May 2006, a joint U.S. and L.P.D.R. team excavated the site where they recovered additional evidence and human remains. He was awarded the Silver Star, two Distinguished Flying Crosses, a Purple Heart, and nine Air Medals.

via: Historia Obscurum

You might not know it to look at him, but the "little old man" in the center of this photo was one of the toughest Jarheads ever.

In 1942 when he was only 14, Jacklyn "Jack" Lucas enlisted in the Marine Corps after convincing the recruiter he was 17.

Posted to a depot unit at Pearl Harbor, Jack was bored and wanted action, so in January of 1945, he rolled up a combat uniform under his arm, sneaked out of camp, and stowed away aboard a Naval Transport that was taking 1st Battalion, 26th Marines, 5th Marine Division to Iwo Jima.

Not knowing what to do with him, the Marine battalion commander busted Jack one rank, then assigned him as rifleman to C Company. A few days later, Jack turned 17.*

The day after landing on Iwo Jima, Jack dove on top of one Japanese grenade then pulled another beneath him. The blast ripped through his body, but saved his comrades.

It took 21 surgeries to save him, and for the rest of his life carried in his body more than 200 large pieces of shrapnel.

On October 5th, 1945, Jack Lucas received the Medal of Honor from President Harry Truman in a ceremony on the White House lawn. He is the youngest Marine ever to receive the nation's highest honor.

He then returned to high school.... as a freshman.

After college, Jack entered the Army as a Captain in the 82nd Airborne, and survived a training jump in which neither his main chute nor his reserve chute opened.

Two years before he died in 2008, Jack was honored by the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Michael W. Hagee, who presented him with a Medal of Honor ceremonial flag at the Marine Barracks in Washington, D.C.

It was during that ceremony that this photo was taken.

Semper Fidelis.

* Although the claim often is made that he actually was only 15, every official document (including his obituary) I've been able to locate puts his d.o.b. as 2/14/1928, which would have made him 17 in 1945. If someone has a primary-source document with a different d.o.b., please send it to me.

Black Helicopters + President Reagan = Happy Presidents Day!

Hooter Bros! Night Stalkers Don't Quit Serving!

160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (Airborne)

#America #patriot #veteran #NSDQ

https://youtu.be/3q4GpjPdWKI?si=v6auOXkZtyg9_-gG

U.S. Army Special Operations Command
#DIDYOUKNOW

The 2nd Ranger Infantry Company was the first, the last and only all-African American Ranger Infantry Company (Airborne) in the United States Army. Affectionately known as “Buffalo Soldiers,” the company was activated in October 1950 and fought in the Korean War before being deactivated in August 1951. During its existence, the unit earned four campaign streamers and multiple combat ribbons for several battles. Their audacity and valor have inspired generations of U.S. Army Rangers ever since.

#BlackHistoryMonth
#ARSOFHistory
#ARSOF
#The75thRangerRegiment
#UnitedStatesSpecialOperationsCommand(USSOCOM)

Airborne & Special Operations Museum Foundation:

In this colorized photo taken on the evening of June 5th, 1944, Soldiers from Fox Company, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division are pictured waiting for their C-47 to take off to Normandy.

Robert “Bob” Noody is pictured second from right with the bazooka. Looking back, Noody said he must have weighed at least 250 lbs., encumbered with his M-1 rifle, a bazooka, three rockets, land mines, and other assorted "necessities".

Fifty feet of rope hung from his chest, which he later used to lower his leg bag to the ground, easing his fall and ensuring he was ready to fight. He landed behind the mayor’s house at Ste. Mere-Eglise. In the ensuing days, Noody utilized his bazooka to destroy a German tank that threatened his unit outside of Carentan. For this action, Robert Noody received a Bronze Star with Oakleaf Cluster. It was his first and last bazooka usage, as he expended the three rockets he carried into battle. A leg wound at Carentan ended his Normandy adventure.

He was only 20 years old on D-Day, and later in the war, Noody made the Operation Market Garden jump and fought with Fox Company from Eindhoven to the Rhine. Noody was discharged from the Army in November 1945 at Fort Dix, New Jersey, and received two Purple Hearts, the Bronze Star for his actions in Carentan, two Presidential Unit Citations, and the French Croix de Guerre.

What a hero!
#FlashbackFriday #militaryhistory #airborne #WWII #DDay

🇺🇲 WWII uncovered: 11th Airborne Division's Rod Serling, Hollywood's "Angry Young Man"

Before he became the well-known creator of "The Twilight Zone," Rod Serling was a young, 5'4" paratrooper in the 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 11th Airborne Division. As one of "The Angels", Rod did not meet the height requirements for the parachutes, but talked his way into the regiment anyway.

While the division was on New Guinea, Jack Benny came by to perform for the Angels and Rod was able to write and perform in a small skit that was broadcast on Armed Forces Radio. It was a sign of things to come for Serling.

During the Angels' campaign on Leyte in late 1944, T-4 Serling and the Suicide Squad kept busy eliminating enemy bunkers and defensive positions. While high in the island's mountains, the regiment could only be resupplied by air and one day Rod watched in horror as a heavy crate landed squarely on his good friend PVT Melvin Levy's shoulders, killing him instantly. Rod marked Melvin’s grave with a Star of David in honor of his friend’s Jewish heritage. It was the first of the war's many difficult experiences that affected, perhaps even haunted, Rod, in addition to a wound to his knee that plagued him for the rest of his life.

During the Angels' campaign to liberate Luzon, Rod and the Demolitions team kept busy with the dangerous job of blasting countless grass-covered pillboxes and blockhouses, many of which were heavily defended. On one occasion, Rod found himself staring down the barrel of a Japanese rifle. Luckily one of his buddies was quicker and shot the enemy soldier.

In one Manila neighborhood, Rod and the other Angels were enjoying an impromptu celebration by the newly-liberated Filipinos when the Japanese began shelling the area. Noticing a wounded Filipino woman out in the open, Rod rushed into the fire to carry her to safety, an action to earned him the Bronze Star.

After the war, Rod turned to writing to "face his demons" and went on to become one of televisions most well-known, and award-winning, screenwriters, playwrights, television producers, and narrators. He also was a passionate teacher at Antioch College (Ohio) and Ithaca College (New York).
Known to smoke three packs of cigarettes a day, Rod died on June 28, 1975. May we all remember these words spoken before his death: "for civilization to survive, the human race has to remain civilized".

For more information on Rod's experiences in World War II, please visit 511pir.com or 11th Airborne Division Association - "Angels"
#ww2uncovered #honorourveterans #ww2 #WorldWarII #worldwar2 #worldwartwo #paratrooper #paratroopers #airborne #greatestgeneration #ww2veteran #WWII #WWIIveteran #AATW #twilightzone #Airborne #rodserling #LestWeForget

Original description and photo submitted by Jeremy Holm ©️ author of "When Angels Fall: From Toccoa to Tokyo: The 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment in World War II MacArthur’s Secret Weapon & Heroes of Los Baños"

Awesome read; if it doesn't bring a tear to your eye, you're not human; I am so proud to have been in an organization that instilled the values described in LTC Lofaro's speech below:

Dining-in speech at U.S. Military Academy
by LTC Guy Lofaro:

"Let me say before beginning that it has been my pleasure to attend several dinings-in here at West Point and hence I have some basis for comparison. You people have done a fine job and you ought to congratulate yourselves. In fact, why don't we take this time to have the persons who were responsible for this event stand so we can acknowledge them publicly.

I guess I am honored with these invitations because there exists this rumor that I can tell a story. Cadets who I have had in class sometimes approach me beforehand and request that, during my speech, I tell some of the stories I've told them in class. For the longest time I have resisted this. I simply didn't think this the right forum for story-telling, so I tried instead, with varying degrees of success, to use this time to impart some higher lesson - some thought that would perhaps stay with one or two of you a little longer than the 10 or 15 minutes I will be standing here. I tried this again last week at another dining in and I bombed. Big time. Of course, the cadets didn't say that. They said all the polite things- "Thank you, sir, for those inspiring words" - "You've provided us much food for thought" - "We all certainly learned something from you tonight, sir." And I'm thinking - yeah - you learned something all right. You learned never to invite that SOB to be a dining in speaker again.

So in the interim I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about what I would say to you to night. What can I say that will stay with you? And as I reflected on this I turned it on myself - what stays with me? What makes a mark on me? What do I remember, and why? How have I learned the higher lessons I so desperately want to impart to you? Well - I've learned those higher lessons through experience. And as I thought further, I realized that there's only one way to relate experience -that is to tell some stories. So I'm going to try something new here this evening. I'm going to give you your stories and attempt to relate what I've learned by living them. I'm going to let you crawl inside my eye-sockets and see some of the things I've seen these past 18 years.

Imagine you are a brand new second lieutenant on a peacekeeping mission in the Sinai Peninsula. You are less than a year out of West Point, and only a few weeks out of the basic course. You are standing at a strict position of attention in front of your battalion commander, a man you will come to realize was one of the finest soldiers with whom you've ever served, and you are being questioned about a mistake - a big mistake - that you've made. You see, your platoon lost some live ammo. Oh sure, it was eventually found, but for a few hours you had the entire battalion scrambling. Your battalion commander is not yelling at you though, he's not demeaning you, he's simply taking this opportunity to ensure you learn from the experience. And you do- you learn that people make mistakes, that those mistakes do not usually result in the end of the world, and that such occasions are valuable opportunities to impart some higher lessons. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see your platoon sergeant emerge from behind a building. He's an old soldier - a fine soldier though - whose knees have seen a few too many airborne operations. He sees you and the colonel - and he takes off at a run. You see him approaching from behind the colonel and the next thing you see is the back of your platoon sergeant's head. He is now standing between you and your battalion commander - the two are eyeball to eyeball. Your platoon sergeant says, a touch of indignance in his voice "Leave my lieutenant alone, sir. He didn't lose the ammo, I did. I was the one who miscounted. You want someone's ass, you take mine."

And you learn another lesson - you learn about loyalty.

It's a few months later and you are one of two soldiers left on a hot PZ on some Caribbean island. There's been another foul up - not yours this time, but you're going to pay for it. It's you and your RTO, a nineteen-year-old surfer from Florida who can quote Shakespeare because his Mom was a high school literature teacher and who joined the army because his Dad was a WWII Ranger. The last UH-60 has taken off on an air assault and someone is supposed to come back and get you guys. But the fire is getting heavy, and you're not sure anything can get down there without getting shot up. You're taking fire from some heavily forested hills. At least two machineguns, maybe three, maybe more, and quite a few AKs, but you can't make out anything else. You and your RTO are in a hole, hunkered down as the bad guys are peppering your hole with small arms fire. Your RTO is trying to get some help - another bird to come get you, some artillery, some attack helicopters - anything. But there are other firefights happening elsewhere on this island involving much larger numbers.

So as the cosmos unfold at; that particular moment, in that particular place, you and that RTO are well down the order of merit list. You feel a tug at your pants leg. Ketch, that's what you call him, Ketch tells you he got a "wait, out" when he asked for help. The radio is jammed with calls for fire and requests for support from other parts of the island. "What we gonna do, sir?' he asks. And all of a sudden, you're learning another lesson. You're learning about the weightiness of command, because it's not just you in that hole, it's this kid you've spent every day with for the last five months. This kid you've come to love like a kid brother. There is only one way out and that's through the bad guys. You see, you are on a peninsula that rises about 100 feet from the sea. The inland side is where the bad guys are. You figure you are safe in this hole, so long as they don't bring in any indirect fire stuff, but if they come down off those hills, onto the peninsula, then you're going to have to fight it out. And that's what you tell your RTO. We either get help or, if the bad guys come for us, we fight. He looks at you. You don't know how long. And he says only four words. Two sentences. "Roger, sir. Let's rock." Appropriate coming from a surfer. Then he slithers back down to the bottom of the hole. Staying on the radio, your lifeline, trying to get some help. You are peering over the edge of the hole, careful not to make too big a target. You're thinking about your wife and that little month-old baby you left a few days ago. It was two o'clock in the morning when you got the call. "Pack your gear and get in here." You kissed them both and told them to watch the news. Hell, you didn't know where here you were going or why, but you were told to go, and you went.

Then all of a sudden it gets real loud, and things are flying all around and then there's a shadow that passes over you. You look up and find yourself staring at the bottom of a Blackhawk, about 15 feet over the deck, flying fast and low, and as it passes over your hole you see the door gunner dealing death and destruction on the bad guys in those hills. It sets down about 25 meters from your hole, as close as it can get. You look up and see the crew chief kneeling inside, waving frantically to you, the door gunner still dealing with it, trying to keep the bad guys' heads down, who have now switched their fire to the bird, a much bigger, and better, target. You look at Ketch and then you're off - and you run 25 meters faster than 25 meters have ever been run since humans began to walk upright. And you dive through the open doors onto the floor of the Blackhawk. There are no seats in the bird since this is combat and we don't use them in the real deal. And you are hugging your RTO, face-to-face, like a lover, and shouting at him "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" but he doesn't tell you he's OKAY since he's yelling the same thing at you -- "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" And then the pilot pulls pitch and executes a violent and steep ascent out of there and had you not been holding on to the d-rings in the floor and the crew chief not been holding your legs you might have fallen out. Then you're over the water, you're safe, and the bird levels out, and you roll over to your back and close your eyes - and you think you fall asleep. But then you feel a hand on your blouse, and you open your eyes and see the crew chief kneeling over you with a head set in his hand. He wants you to put it on so you do. And the first thing you hear is "I-Beamer, buddy boy. I Beamer." You were in I-4 while a cadet, and that was your rallying cry. And you look up to where the pilots sit and you see a head sticking out from behind one of the seats. He's looking at you and it's his voice you hear, but you can't make out who it is because his visor is down. Then he lifts it, and you see the face of a man who was 2 years ahead of you in your company. He tells you that he knew you were there and he wasn't going to leave an I-Beamer like that. And you learn about courage, and camaraderie. And friendship that never dies.

It's a few years later and you've already had your company command. You're in grad school, studying at Michigan. You get a phone call one night, one of the sergeants from your company. He tells you Harvey Moore is dead, killed in a training accident when his Blackhawk flew into the ground. Harvey Moore. Two time winner of the Best Ranger Competition. Great soldier. Got drunk one night after his wife left him and took his son. You see, staff sergeants don't make as much money as lawyers, so she left with the lawyer. He got stinking drunk, though it didn't take much since he didn't drink at all before this, and got into his car. Then had an accident. Then got a DUI. He was an E-6 promotable when this happened, and the SOP was a general-officer article 15 and a reduction one grade, which would really be two for him because he was on the promotion list. But Harvey Moore is a good soldier, and it's time to go to bat for a guy who, if your company command was any sort of a success, played a significant part in making it so. And you go with your battalion commander to see the CG, and you stand at attention in front of the CG's desk for 20 minutes convincing him that Harvey Moore deserves a break. You win. Harvey Moore never drinks again. He makes E-7. And when you change command, he grabs your arm, with tears in his eyes, and thanks you for all you've done. Then the phone call. And you learn about grief.

And then you're a major and you're back in the 82d - your home. And one day some SOB having a bad week decides it's time to take it out on the world and he shoots up a PT formation. Takes out 20 guys. You're one of them. 5.56 tracer round right to the gut. Range about 10 meters. And you're dead for a little while, but it's not your time yet - there are still too many lessons to learn. And you wake up after 5 surgeries and 45 days in a coma. And you look down at your body and you don't recognize it - it has become a receptacle for hospital tubing and electronic monitoring devices. You have a tracheotomy, so there's a huge tube going down your throat and you can't talk, but that thing is making sure you breathe. And there's a tube in your nose that goes down into your stomach - that's how you eat. And there are four IVs - one in each arm and two in the veins in the top of your feet. There is a tube through your right clavicle - that's where they inject the high-powered antibiotics that turns your hair white and makes you see things. But disease is the enemy now and it's gotta be done. And there are three tubes emerging from three separate holes in your stomach. They are there to drain the liquids from your stomach cavity. It drains into some bags hanging on the right;side of your bed. And they've shaved your chest and attached countless electrodes to monitor your heartbeat, blood pressure, and anything else they can measure. They have these things stuck all over your head as well, and on your wrists and ankles. And your family gathers around, and they are like rocks, and they pull you through. But there's also a guy, dressed in BDUs, with a maroon beret in his and, who stands quietly in the corner. Never says anything. Just smiles. And looks at you. He's there every day. Not every hour of every day, but he comes every day.

Sometimes he's there when you wake up. Sometimes he's there when you go to sleep. He comes during his lunch break. He stays an hour, or two, or three. And just stands in the corner. And smiles. No one told him to be there. But he made it his place of duty. His guard post. You see, it's your sergeant major, and his ranger buddy is down, and a ranger never leaves a fallen comrade. And you learn, through this man, the value of a creed.
(Note from Guy): if you've never read the Ranger Creed, Google it. The men of the Ranger Regiment live this creed every day. It is probably more powerful than wedding vows, and once you've lived by it, it's part of your life forever)

And every four hours two huge male nurses come in and gently roll you on your side. The bullet exited through your left buttock and made a hole the size of a softball. The bandages need to be changed. Take the soiled wads out and put clean ones in. And a second lieutenant comes in. She seems to be there all the time. She's the one changing the bandages. And it hurts like hell, but she, too, is smiling, and talking to you, and she's gentle. And you know you've seen her before, but you can't talk - you still have that tube in your throat. But she knows. And she tells you that you taught her Military Art History, that now it's her turn to take care of you, that she's in charge of you and the team of nurses assigned to you, and she won't let you down. And you learn about compassion.

And then it's months later and you're still recovering. Most of the tubes are gone but it's time for another round of major surgeries. And you go into one of the last, this one about 9 hours long. And they put you back together. And you wake up in the ICU one more time. Only one IV this time. And when you open your eyes, there's a huge figure standing over your bed. BDUs. Green beret in his hand. Bigger than God. And he's smiling. "It's about damn time you woke up you lazy bastard" he says. And you know it's your friend and former commander and you've got to come back with something quick - something good. He's the deputy Delta Force commander, soon to be the commander. And you say "Don't you have someplace else to be? Don't you have something more important to do?" And without skipping a beat, without losing that smile he says "Right now, I am doing what I consider the most important thing in the world."

And you learn about leadership.

So there you have them. Some stories. I've tried to let you see the world as I've seen it a various points in time these 18 years. I hope you've learned something. I certainly have."

For the record, I know these men personally, and I served during these times the writer is describing, I was there @ Hill AFB that dark night on 29 Oct '92 during the final hit of Operation Embryo Stage when RANGER Moore departed this rock, he was my buddy... I also recall very clearly that damn sniper doing his evil down @ Bragg... this world just never quits jackin with the good folks seems like. My point of all of this is while you are in the middle of it all, this Serving stuff, pay attention to those around you, that is what is Truly of most importance, gubmints will come and go, Honor, Courage, being Solid under extreme pressure and circumstance will be your test... make this world a little better of a place while you are among the living... and Never Forget the RANGER Harvey Moore's that you will meet along the way...

HOOAH!
RLTW! - NSDQ!

Born in 1921, Rice would volunteer for the Army in 1943 and head to Camp Toccoa, Georgia to become a paratrooper. Joining the 101st Airborne, and heading to England to train for Operation Overlord, eventually jumping into Normandy, securing roads and capturing Basse-Abbeville, France.

He would jump again on September 17th, 1944 into the Netherlands as part of Operation Market Garden. And then once again into the history books as part of The Battle of the Bulge where he would be shot twice by a German sniper.

Rice would recover from his wounds in a hospital in Belgium and would be honorably discharged in December 1945.

Returning home he taught social science and history. Had five children. And wrote his personal account of the war "Trial by Combat".

He would jump as part of the 75th anniversary of D-Day in 2019 at Normandy, and then again into the Netherlands as part of the commemoration of Operation Market Garden. He was 97 years old.

On his 100th birthday on August 15th, 2021, he celebrated by skydiving.

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