Exciting News for Transitioning Service Members!

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3 STEPS to JOIN the VHPA network on Fall In Veteran.

CLICK HERE for videos: https://fallinnow.com/

Great resource for those looking to JOIN the VHPA Tribe on Fall In, and contribute to a network of early Users. VHPA can Build our own digital legacy.

Any additional questions can be sent to the Fall In Team FALL_IN_STAFF_DUTY or techsupport@fall-in-veteran.com.

Nine Line Apparel
· 21 June, 2024

Join Us for our Annual Heroes Weekend!

Taking place September 20-21, the weekend will consist of our annual Holes Fore Heroes Golf Tournament, our Heroes Dinner and Gala, our Annual Run for the Wounded, and a Range Day for VIPs.

All proceeds will benefit the Nine Line Foundation and the mission to support severely wounded and homeless veterans.

Sign up today to participate, or contact us if you'd like to donate or sponsor. Let's make this our biggest year yet!

https://www.ninelinefoundation.org/events/2024-heroes-weekend?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR2q1RBCJ8_DqvOiRePrqgkR02N1MnTKz8eJIhQLSQXw6V1EaWcfm7ZSq18_aem_ZmFrZWR1bW15MTZieXRlcw

#NineLineApparel #heroesweekend #ninelinefoundation #fundraiser

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02v1riGAFfcwp7ecjyPvfuskTf1mJcc1FQx3gceG7sqL2MqRsYhnTQLzAdSnG4AqF6l&id=100067135884433

No Greater Mission than this. This group is on the front lines fighting for our souls. Support them here at The Jesus Pattern page

(click the link here, the “GIVE” at the green button)
https://www.fall-in-veteran.com/pages/TJPv1

Your mind is the first battlefield. Take the high terrain, establish fields of fire and engage.

We are your air support. Call for fire, when ready. The net is hot.

https://shop.fall-in-veteran.com/products/unisex-softstyle-t-shirt

The Special Fall In Veteran Tee - Design by ArtReynolds and Fall In.

Support an Unrestricted America. JOIN your Tribe at Fall In.

Contact FALL_IN_STAFF_DUTY with question about our business solutions intended to connect our Veteran Network.

NSDQ!-Serving and LLTB!

Thanks Art for all your support.

#unitedwestand #jointtaskforcepatriot

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/fall-in-veteran-llc-0825932b2_sono1420-home-of-the-foundations-and-associations-activity-7206260355323363329-8diG?utm_source=share&utm_medium=member_ios

Don’t miss the opportunity to get this classic spirit and support the American military legacy of the 160th SOAR Night Stalkers.

Thank You NSF!

NSDQ!-Serving & LLTB!

https://shop.fall-in-veteran.com/products/get-a-job

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!

Thank You for Another Successful Year of Support!

To all Members and Supporters of the Nightstalkers Brotherhood Motorcycle Association,

We are thrilled to announce that for another year , the Nightstalkers Brotherhood Motorcycle Association has been recognized as one of the top donors to the Nightstalker Association. This incredible achievement would not have been possible without the unwavering support and dedication of each and every one of you.

Your commitment to our cause and your generosity in giving both your time and resources have truly made a difference in the lives of our Nightstalker members and their families. Your contributions have allowed us to provide essential support, resources, and assistance to those who have sacrificed so much in service to our country.

We are continually inspired by the passion and dedication that each of you brings to our organization. Your willingness to go above and beyond to support our mission is truly commendable and sets a shining example for others to follow.

As we reflect on another successful year of partnership and collaboration, We want to express our deepest gratitude to each and every one of you. Your continued support is invaluable to us and we are incredibly grateful for everything you do.

Thank you for your commitment to the Nightstalkers Brotherhood Motorcycle Association , the Nightstalker Association and for being a driving force behind our continued success. Here's to another year of making a positive impact and creating lasting change together.

Sincerely,
The Officers of the
Nightstalkers Brotherhood Motorcycle Association

Today we will gather to honor and Ride in Remembrance of the fallen soldiers of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment. These remarkable soldiers, true heroes, sacrificed their lives in service to our nation, and it is our duty to remember and celebrate their unequaled dedication.

In the darkest of nights, brightest of days , they took to the skies, fearlessly embarking on missions that few would dare. They flew above and beyond, defying the odds, and their bravery knew no bounds. Today, as we raise our glasses, let us hold a moment of silence to pay tribute to these warriors who made the ultimate sacrifice.

Their stories will echo through the ages, their names etched not just on a wall of granite , but in our hearts forever. Their legacy will endure, inspiring generations to come with their valor and selflessness.

To our fallen Nightstalkers, we toast to your courage, your honor, and your unyielding spirit. May you find eternal peace among the heavens. And to those who remain, we offer our unwavering support and gratitude for your continued service.

Let us remember and honor these brave souls, for they are the epitome of dedication, loyalty, and sacrifice. We will raise our glasses high and say with conviction: We will Tell the Tales & Speak the names , Until we have no breaths left. Nightstalkers Don't Quit, Nightstalkers Don't Forget!

Hello all!!!, I have already sent out a few DMs looking for some assistance, but figured I would throw this out there with a very large stroke of the brush. I am finally leveraging my fairly large network to see if any of you may have any contacts who can help with Funding Grants or donations. I am involved with an organization called The Purple Heart Project. The mission is to introduce physically and mentally Combat Wounded Veterans still suffering from the negative effects of combat to the peace and joy that can be found through the therapy of traditional hand tool woodworking. I went through the program last year and since, their director has asked me to come on board to help with funding, as it is 100% supported by donation. If any of you could please pass along any info/contacts you may have in the fundraising arena as well as pass along what we do, it would mean a great deal. Thank you and keep doing all the great things each of you do!! https://www.thepurpleheartproject.org/

B.
Historical context
Pashtuns are historically the dominant ethnic community in Afghanistan, and they have actively fought to keep their predominance throughout Afghan history. In the years before 1978 Pashtuns made up about 40 per cent of the Afghan population. After the Soviet invasion in 1979, some 85 per cent of the more than 3 million Afghan refugees in Pakistan were Pashtuns. They have always played a central role in Afghan politics, and their dominant position has been a major catalyst in triggering conflict. For example, conflict arose between partners in the Mujahidin coalition which fought the Soviet troops and opposed the regime of President Mohammad Najibullah. Following Soviet withdrawal and that regime’s collapse, President Burhanuddin Rabbani represented the Tajik minority, whereas opposition troops led by Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, and those of the Taliban, were mainly Pashtun.

The Taliban rule was based on a strict and controversial interpretation of Shari’a law and it was responsible, during its dominance, for grave human rights violations based on gender, and also for ethnic discrimination. This period brought severe poverty to Afghanistan, accompanied by food insecurity for most Afghans, and large-scale displacement and emigration, though some Pashtun communities were treated favourably and protected against the worst of the conditions. However, though Pashtuns were in power, the majority of the community nonetheless continued to suffer discrimination. This was particularly true for Pashtun families who had been moved to the north more than 100 years earlier by Amir Abdur Rahman Khan, as part of a state consolidation effort. They were left to the mercy of the Tajiks and Uzbeks who are the predominant ethnic groups in the area. There have been reports of ethnic massacres at Mazar-e-Sharif in 1997 and 1998 and continuing reports of violence targeted against the Pashtuns (whether or not formely Taliban supporters) as vengeance for the Taliban regime’s excesses.

With the collapse of the Taliban regime and the signing of the Bonn Agreement in 2001, Pashtun dominance over the other ethnic groups in Afghanistan came to an end. Of the estimated one million internally displaced at that time, most of those remaining in displacement were Pashtuns, who had been uprooted by ethnic violence in the north and the west of the country.

Current issues

Since the fall of the Taliban, there has a fundamental shift in the traditional power balance. Although the first post-Taliban president, Hamid Karzai, belongs to a prominent Pashtun family from Qandahar, the central government was largely dominated by the Uzbeks and Tajiks of the Northern Alliance. This less privileged position in administration and power has created obvious dissatisfaction among Pashtuns. Following the final results of the most recent 2010 parliamentary elections, Pashtun parliamentary candidates from Herat and several other provinces staged protests, claiming that they were systematically excluded from the election process through fraud and intimidation. Nevertheless, Pashtuns remain the largest ethnic group and therefore in an increasingly democratic system are likely to regain their influence. Indeed, Karzai’s successor, President Ashraf Ghani is also a Pashtun, although when he took office in 2014, he signalled his intention to break through ethnic barriers by dropping his tribal last name from official documents.

Pashtun

Pashtuns (also called Pushtan, Paktun or Pathan) are the largest ethnic group in Afghanistan. Though their exact numbers are uncertain and as with other communities are contested, previous estimates have suggested that they make up around 42 per cent of the population. They live mainly in the south and the east of the country. They have a distinct language called Pashto (an official language since 1936) but also speak Pakhto, which are both Iranian dialects that fall within the Indo-European group of languages. They are generally able to speak Farsi when necessary, often relying on the language in the context of trade dealings in the region. It is speculated that Pashtuns are descendants of Eastern Iranians, who immigrated to the area from Persia. However, there is also an interesting legend, which claims that they actually originate from one of the ancient tribes of Israel. Pashtuns are Sunni Muslims and can also be found in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in Pakistan (about 14 million). They are seen as the historic founders of the Afghan Kingdom, with an apparent predominance in administration power until recently.

The social structure of the Pashtuns is based on the Pashtunwali (or Pukhtunwali) code, which is a mixture of a tribal code of honour and local interpretations of Shari’a. This requires the speaking of Pashtu and the adherence to established customs. Hospitality, protection of their guests, defence of property, family honour and protection of the female relatives are some of the most important principles for Pashtuns. They rely on the tribal council jirga for the enforcement of disputes and local decision-making, as well as the seclusion of women from all affairs outside the home. A major aspect of the Pashtunwali code emphasizes personal authority and freedom. Women are required to wear full-face and full-length garments known as the burka. Pashtun culture is celebrated for its traditional music, dancing, poetry and storytelling.

A majority of Pashtuns rely upon agriculture (irrigated wheat) and animal husbandry for their source of income, with some involved in trading in these and other commodities. Population relocation and poverty caused by the chronic lack of stability in Afghanistan has led to a rise in drug trafficking, mainly opium via Pakistan to Europe and North America. The difficult living conditions together with the lack of clean water and health care contributes to a short life expectancy of only about 46 years. Those living in the Kabul area seem to enjoy slightly better living standards.

Tribal divisions

Despite their past political dominance, Pashtuns have never formed a homogeneous group, and many have fallen victim to oppression at the hands of the elites from their own community. The power and leadership of individuals are perhaps what divides Pashtuns, not only into different tribes but also into numerous sub-tribes, each isolated within their own borders. Interference in each other’s affairs has caused conflict among sub-tribes throughout their history. Yet despite their infighting, they have generally rallied to form a unified front when challenged by external threats or interference by a central non-Pashtun government.

Pakistan’s policy has been mainly supportive of the Pashtuns, especially in more recent times, but does not support the claim for self-determination of the 13 million Pashtuns living in the province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, out of fear of losing part of their territory.

Kuchi

Kuchi means ‘nomad’ in the Dari (Persian) language. Kuchis are Pashtuns from southern and eastern Afghanistan. They are a social rather than ethnic grouping, although they also have some of the characteristics of a distinct ethnic group. Though traditionally nomadic, many have been settled in northwestern Afghanistan, in an area that was traditionally occupied by Uzbeks and Tajiks, after strong encouragement by the Taliban government. Nowadays only a few thousands still follow their traditional livelihood of nomadic herding. Others have become farmers, settled in cities or emigrated. The largest population of Kuchis is probably in Registan, the desert in southern Afghanistan.

Tribes are formed among the Kuchis along patrilineal lines. A clan is composed of a core family, their offspring and their families. The leader of the tribe, the Khan, is responsible for the general well-being of the community, for governing the group and for representing it to visitors. Tribes live communally, and on becoming too large separate in order to facilitate more efficient management. Typically, there are three types of Kuchis: pure nomads, semi-sedentary and nomadic traders. The majority are semi-sedentary, living in the same winter area year after year. The purely nomadic Kuchis have no fixed abode and are dependent on animals for their livelihood; their movements are determined by the weather and the availability of good pasturage. Traders constitute the smallest percentage of Kuchis; their main activity being the transport of goods. The semi-pastoral Kuchis are gradually tending towards a more sedentary way of life. The majority do so because they can no longer support themselves from their livestock.

The Kuchis constitute an important part of Afghanistan’s cultural heritage. For centuries, they have migrated across the country in a search of seasonal pastures and milder weather. They were the main traders in Afghanistan, connecting South Asia with the Middle East. The livestock owned by the Kuchis made an important contribution in the national economy. They owned about 30 per cent of all the sheep and goats and most of the camels. Traditionally they exchanged tea, sugar, matches etc. for wheat and vegetables with settled communities. They also acted as moneylenders and offered services in transportation along with additional labour at harvest time. Kuchis have been greatly affected by conflict, drought and demographic shifts. Therefore, it is only a small number of Kuchis who still follow their traditional livelihood of nomadic herding. Despite their history and their traditional resources, the chronic state of instability in Afghanistan has left them among the poorest groups in the country.

Historical context

With the development of the road system in Afghanistan in the 1950s and 1960s and the formation of road transportation companies with fleets of trucks, the traditional Kuchi camel caravan gradually became obsolete, greatly impacting the income and lifestyle of the community. The situation for the Kuchis became even more tenuous during the prolonged periods of armed conflict and during the droughts of 1971-1972 and 1998-2002. These droughts are estimated to have caused the deaths of 75 per cent of Kuchi livestock. Furthermore, the combination of the intensive bombing campaigns by the US-led coalition as well as the spread of landmines during the 23 years of conflict decimated Kuchi herds, taking away their major source of income. Fighting and control by different warlords also often blocked their migratory routes.

Hazard

The size of the Hazara population, as with other communities in Afghanistan, is highly uncertain as the country’s authorities have never conducted a national census of the population. However, it is broadly recognized that none of the country’s ethnic groups form a majority, and the exact percentages of each group as part of the national population are estimates and often highly politicized.

The size of the Hazara community has also declined significantly as a result of forced migration, land grabbing and persecution. They were once the largest Afghan ethnic group, constituting nearly two-thirds of the total population of the country before the 19th century. Some estimates suggest that more than half of the Hazaras were massacred, forced to flee or taken into slavery during the 1891-93 Hazara War when the Afghan King Amir Abdur Rahman Khan (1880-1901) led a genocidal campaign of violence against Hazaras. Many of the Hazaras who fled the persecution by Amir Abdur Rahman Khan settled in the Indian subcontinent or Iran, laying the foundation of the Hazara communities that now live in the Pakistani city of Quetta and various districts in Iran’s eastern provinces. These communities have increased in size as more Hazaras who fled from Afghanistan over the past four decades have settled within them, especially in Quetta.

The origins of the Hazara community are much debated. Although a common myth suggests that Hazaras originated from a contingent of the army of Genghis Khan in the 13th century, there is no historical evidence to support these claims. Other more plausible theories suggest that Hazaras are more likely to have descended from communities that inhabited the region well before the advent of Genghis Khan.

Hazaras speak a dialect of Dari (Farsi dialect) called Hazaragi and the majority of them follow the Shi’a (Twelver Imami) school of Islam. As a result, Shi’a Hazaras constitute a religious minority in a country where the majority practice Sunni Islam. Significant numbers of Hazaras are also followers of the Ismaili Shi’a school of Islam or are Sunni Muslims. Within Afghanistan, Hazaras are known for their distinctive music and literary traditions with a rich oral history, poetry and music. Hazaragi poetry and music are mainly folkloric, having been passed down orally through the generations.

In Afghanistan, the majority of Shi’a Hazaras live in Hazarajat (or ‘land of the Hazara’), which is situated in the rugged central mountainous core of Afghanistan with an area of approximately 50,000 square kilometres. The region includes the provinces of Bamyan and Daikundi and several adjacent districts in the provinces of Ghazni, Uruzgan, Wardak, Parwan, Baghlan, Samangan and Sar-e Pul. There are significant Sunni Hazara communities in the provinces of Badghis, Ghur, Kunduz, Baghlan, Panjshir and other areas in the northeast of Afghanistan. Ismaili Hazaras live in the provinces of Parwan, Baghlan and Bamyan. In addition, Shi’a as well as Sunni Hazaras are based in substantial numbers in several urban centres of Afghanistan, including Kabul, Mazar-e Sharif and Herat.

Traditionally, the majority of the Hazara community were involved in subsistence farming or working as peasants and artisans. In Afghanistan’s cities, Hazaras traditionally engaged in unskilled labour as they faced discrimination in education and public sector employment. This has contributed to their further stigmatization, reflected in the low rate of intermarriage between Hazaras and members of other groups. Systematic discrimination, as well as recurrent periods of targeted violence and enforced displacement, have led the Hazara community to lose much of their population and standing in the social hierarchy of modern Afghanistan.

By Major Mark A. Smith Sr. (ret)
Note: Some decades ago, a friend in the Pentagon asked me to jot down a few Soldierly thoughts. Through the years I added a couple, but deleted none of the originals. They may not be modern or politically corrected, but they did make the rounds. I stand by them today.
- Mark
1. Never accept an officer as competent based on his source of commission.
2. Your right to influence the battlefield is diminished in ratio to the distance you are from the actual arena of action.
3. The battlefield selects its own Generals. No school or board can replace it.
4. Never call fire on your own troops, unless you stand among them.
5. Leaders are indeed born and no military school can provide what God did not.
6. Equipment procurement will always be compromised by not only being made by the lowest bidder, but by attempting to make it multi-functional.
7. Attempting to lighten the soldier’s load by diminishing the weight of any given weapon, will always result in shorter range and less firepower.
8. Excellent staff officers rarely make good battlefield commanders.
9. Outstanding commanders will surround themselves with excellent staff officers.
10. Never make command a reward for good staff work.
11. Discipline began its decline with the demise of the swagger stick and centralized promotion boards.
12. Outstanding NCO’s may make good officers. But, rarely will a riffed officer make a good NCO.
13. Atheists will never be trusted by their troops on the battlefield.
14. Women can do many things men do, except for a few days every month.
15. Going through the change, has nothing to do with the female senior officer’s uniform.
16. Sexual harassment is a two-lane road.
17. Soldiers tell the truth about good and bad commanders. Their opinion is the ultimate evaluation of an officer.
18. No commander was ever hated for being too hard. But, many are detested for trying to cultivate that image, without substance.
19. The maximum effective range of any weapon is that range at which the individual soldier can hit his target and not an inch further.
20. Pretty females rarely feel harassed by male counterparts.
21. Plain-looking female soldiers are usually the best performers and fit in.
22. Endurance should be judged on the bayonet assault course and not on a marathon run.
23. How far soldiers can run in shorts is unimportant, compared to how far they can speed march with full equipment.
24. Pregnant females are overweight soldiers. Thus, the US Army Weight Control program is not based on equal enforcement of the rules.
25. Tears on the cheeks of any soldier, regardless of gender, are only acceptable on the death of a relative or comrade and when “Old Glory” passes by.
26. Pregnancy is self-inflicted, thus abortions should be paid for by the soldier, as a non line of duty procedure.
27. Soldiers are not ‘sent into combat,” they are led.
28. Your worth as an officer should never be judged on how well you ran with a football in college.
29. West Point is a place of learning, as is any college. Both produce two types of officer; Good and Bad.
30. The computer will never be able to judge the content of a soldier’s spirit, as his Sergeant can.
31. Esprit De Corps cannot be attained at the Battalion picnic or Sports Day. It must be instilled by good leadership and belief in one’s fellow soldiers.
32. No new weapon or tactic will ever instill the same fear in the enemy that one Infantryman with a bayonet can.
33. He who drinks at lunch is a drunken soldier in the afternoon.
34. No soldier is so smart that his physical deficiencies can be overlooked in the Infantry.
35. Painting rocks and serving drinks to officers, have never been soldierly functions. And golf is not a required skill for officers.
36. Consolidation of all administrative personnel at battalion level has eroded accountability and proper reporting.
37. Anyone who thinks that future battlefields will not contain Infantrymen knows nothing about war.
38. Indecision kills more soldiers than any wrong decision. One can command his way out of a wrong decision.
39. The only mission of the Infantry Soldier is to kill the enemy. “Humanitarian Missions" are someone else’s job.
40. Only the Infantry and Armor can gain ground. Only the Infantry can hold it alone.
41. Special Forces are not Rangers or Light Infantry and should never be employed as such.
42. Rangers are light infantry and are not Special Forces.
43. Victory is not a limited objective. There is no other reason to engage an enemy, except victory.
44. Never shower or apply after-shave and cologne, forty eight hours prior to a night attack.
45. Sweat is the true lubricant of the Infantry fighting machine.
46. No American Soldier can be managed to victory. He must be led.
47. The only color in the U.S. Army is green.
48. Use of chemical weapons and biological weapons are a crime against humanity.
49. Not training your soldiers to protect themselves from them is a crime against your own troops.
50. Any tactic written in a book is known to your enemies.
51. If short hair is truly a matter of hygiene and discipline, then all soldiers must have it.
52. No member of a soldier’s family is more important than the mission.
53. No soldier can accomplish his mission if the Army neglects his family.
54. Any soldier who sleeps with another soldier’s wife or lover cannot be trusted on the battlefield and should be shunned.
55. Officers are more likely to wear unauthorized awards than any NCO or Private.
56. Any officer who claims he is accepting an individual award for the entire unit should allow his soldiers to wear it.
57. There can be no quota for awards.
58. Any award for Valor is of more value to the Army than any school diploma or certification.
59. Heroism cannot be taught. But, cowardice is a communicable disease.
60. The machine gun is too important a weapon to be used as a tool for punishing poor soldiers.
61. Precision weapons will jam, if the Commander demands communal cleaning.
62. No officer should be given a command, because, he needs one for his career.
63. No officer should be denied a command, because, he already had one.
64. The state of the Army can be evaluated by how its soldiers look in uniform, at any airport in the world.
65. No reporter can be trusted with operational plans. A reporter who reveals operational plans is a traitor to his country.
66. A combat veteran of any war should be respected by soldiers.
67. American soldiers do not lose wars. Leaders lose wars.
68. What a soldier saw with his own eyes, cannot be ignored or changed by higher headquarters.
69. If Special Forces are not assigned strategic missions, they are being misused.
70. The “Hummer” is a vehicle and is the only thing of that name allowed in the Infantry.
71. If you wish to learn about guerrilla warfare, study Francis Marion and not Westmoreland or Giap.
72. The one night you don’t dig in, will bring mortars on your position.
73. Taking the easy way will always get you killed.
74. Blank ammunition has no place in Infantry training.
75. The more you restrict Infantrymen possessing live ammunition, the more accidents you will have.
76. The Air Force and Navy are supporting arms.
77. Intelligence Officer is usually a contradiction in terms.
78. Inclement weather is the true Infantryman’s ally.
79. There is no special duty so important, that it takes the Infantry Soldier away from his squad.
80. Commanders who use the “Off Limits” authority to deny sex to combat soldiers will have a high V.D. rate.
81. A Commander’s morals are his own and cannot be imposed on his soldiers.
82. Chaplains must present themselves when the soldier has time, not because they have a schedule.
83. An officer must be judged on his ability and not on how many coffees his wife has attended.
84. Senior officers who allow discussions about a brother officer, not present, are not honorable men.
85. A Commander who bad-mouths his predecessor will never be truly respected.
86. Equal opportunity is guaranteed by the law and does not require a separate staff.
87. If a Sergeant Major suggests a unit watch, he is the supplier.
88. The quality of food went down, with the initiation of the consolidated mess.
89. No NCO or Warrant Officer outranks a Second Lieutenant.
90. Any officer who does not listen to NCO’s and Warrant Officers is a fool.
91. If you wish your subordinates to call you by your first name, go sell shoes. There is no place for you in the Army.
92. Any Army man who sneers at a Marine for being sharp and well turned out is no soldier.
93. Any Infantryman who must call higher headquarters before engaging the enemy has a fool for a commander.
94. Soldiers respect leaders worth emulating. They cannot be “ordered” to respect anyone.
95. No man who refused to serve his country in war should be elected or appointed over men and women being sent to fight.

https://youtu.be/WqnD_fhYa-E?si=TZuZUCyS37Tt5lc5
Good thing student forgiveness has been put in place. Now we can support these needy children as universities cancel class to allow them to protest.

“World Affairs Dominos.” You will NOT get this kind of Intel from YOUR Social Media….Start paying close attention. Decision Points on the horizon.

BLUF: The movements of Russia and China are elevated acts of aggression, and very concerning. (Are they coordinated? Certainly, NOT coincidence.)

Russia continues to move levers of controls and influence. Exercising more/new in their regional assets supporting Ukraine.

Ref. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/ukraine-russia-war-latest-news-putin-b2528144.html

NOTE: AM/FM is still a strategic intel tool, and an effective messaging platform to those in the middle of the struggle…Use it to inform yourself. This Rock Station in Belgorod has been pushing English updates.

Listen HERE: https://radio.garden/listen/radiogora/45BGsV0D

***China leverages US sanctions to bolster operational dominance and seeks to weaken Taiwans tactical capabilities***

Close contacts in Taiwan suggest that Chinese are positioning to leverage the Chaos. Don’t wait until you feel the effects to understand the National Security concerns.

We the people have a responsibility to serve and protect our Allies. This is NOT hyperbole,…the literal “writing on the wall” should cause you to align with national/military priorities. And, be prepared to support a national course of action, if needed. Whether diplomatic or military. Is our ability to execute diplomacy in these regions intact?

Ref: https://www.reuters.com/world/china-sanctions-two-us-defence-firms-selling-taiwan-weapons-2024-04-11/

These events VERY purposefully leveraging a distracted American culture and government. Pay attention, please.

via: Combat Control Foundation
· 12 April, 2024

We are grateful for our Armed Forces deployed around the world, carrying out their duties while away from their families and loved ones. Today is #Friday and on #RedFriday, we wear #RED & #RememberEveryoneDeployed. Invest in our mission as we are First There for Combat Controllers.

Donate today to support our mission: https://www.combatcontrolfoundation.org/?form=CCF-web

#FirstThere #AFSPECWAR #AFSW #STS #CCT #CombatControl #CombatControlTeam #SpecialWarfare #Airmen #SpecialOperations #CombatController #SpecialTacticsAirmen #USAF #AFSOC

Appreciate all the support over the past few weeks. Father’s are hard to let go of, but the Buddy Checks and prayers were appreciated.

Especially, from the Fall In Team. Amazing how a mission makes warriors feel connected.
FALL_IN_STAFF_DUTY Brian The_Fall_In_1SG Chaz_the_Gun_Guy EMayers @ArtReynolds MoDiddy

LLTB!

via: SEAL Of Honor
· 25 March, 2024
LT Michael P Murphy's Official Medal Of Honor Citation
FOR SERVICE AS SET FORTH IN THE FOLLOWING

CITATION:

FOR CONSPICUOUS GALLANTRY AND INTREPIDITY AT THE RISK OF HIS LIFE ABOVE AND BEYOND THE CALL OF DUTY AS THE LEADER OF A SPECIAL RECONNAISSANCE ELEMENT WITH NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE TASK UNIT AFGHANISTAN ON 27 AND 28 JUNE 2005. WHILE LEADING A MISSION TO LOCATE A HIGH-LEVEL ANTI-COALITION MILITIA LEADER, LIEUTENANT MURPHY DEMONSTRATED EXTRAORDINARY HEROISM IN THE FACE OF GRAVE DANGER IN THE VICINITY OF ASADABAD, KONAR PROVINCE, AFGHANISTAN. ON 28 JUNE 2005, OPERATING IN AN EXTREMELY RUGGED ENEMY-CONTROLLED AREA, LIEUTENANT MURPHY’S TEAM WAS DISCOVERED BY ANTI-COALITION MILITIA SYMPATHIZERS, WHO REVEALED THEIR POSITION TO TALIBAN FIGHTERS. AS A RESULT, BETWEEN 30 AND 40 ENEMY FIGHTERS BESIEGED HIS FOUR-MEMBER TEAM. DEMONSTRATING EXCEPTIONAL RESOLVE, LIEUTENANT MURPHY VALIANTLY LED HIS MEN IN ENGAGING THE LARGE ENEMY FORCE. THE ENSUING FIERCE FIREFIGHT RESULTED IN NUMEROUS ENEMY CASUALTIES, AS WELL AS THE WOUNDING OF ALL FOUR MEMBERS OF THE TEAM. IGNORING HIS OWN WOUNDS AND DEMONSTRATING EXCEPTIONAL COMPOSURE, LIEUTENANT MURPHY CONTINUED TO LEAD AND ENCOURAGE HIS MEN. WHEN THE PRIMARY COMMUNICATOR FELL MORTALLY WOUNDED, LIEUTENANT MURPHY REPEATEDLY ATTEMPTED TO CALL FOR ASSISTANCE FOR HIS BELEAGUERED TEAMMATES. REALIZING THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF COMMUNICATING IN THE EXTREME TERRAIN, AND IN THE FACE OF ALMOST CERTAIN DEATH, HE FOUGHT HIS WAY INTO OPEN TERRAIN TO GAIN A BETTER POSITION TO TRANSMIT A CALL. THIS DELIBERATE, HEROIC ACT DEPRIVED HIM OF COVER, EXPOSING HIM TO DIRECT ENEMY FIRE. FINALLY ACHIEVING CONTACT WITH HIS HEADQUARTERS, LIEUTENANT MURPHY MAINTAINED HIS EXPOSED POSITION WHILE HE PROVIDED HIS LOCATION AND REQUESTED IMMEDIATE SUPPORT FOR HIS TEAM. IN HIS FINAL ACT OF BRAVERY, HE CONTINUED TO ENGAGE THE ENEMY UNTIL HE WAS MORTALLY WOUNDED, GALLANTLY GIVING HIS LIFE FOR HIS COUNTRY AND FOR THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM. BY HIS SELFLESS LEADERSHIP, COURAGEOUS ACTIONS, AND EXTRAORDINARY DEVOTION TO DUTY, LIEUTENANT MURPHY REFLECTED GREAT CREDIT UPON HIMSELF AND UPHELD THE HIGHEST TRADITIONS OF THE UNITED STATES NAVAL SERVICE.

SIGNED GEORGE W. BUSH

via: Night Stalker Foundation
· 21 March, 2024

Rosie the Riveter Day is a special occasion that commemorates the remarkable contributions and sacrifices made by American women during World War Two.

Throughout this pivotal period in history, women from all walks of life courageously stepped into roles traditionally held by men. They took on crucial jobs in factories, electronics, welding facilities, and various other industries to support the American war effort. In doing so, they played a vital role in bolstering the nation's strength and resilience during a time of great need.

It's estimated that around five million civilian women joined the workforce during this era, embracing tasks previously deemed suitable only for men. Additionally, approximately 350,000 women served in uniform, further demonstrating their dedication and commitment to the war effort.

Rosie the Riveter Day serves as a powerful reminder of the indomitable spirit and invaluable contributions of American women during World War Two. It honors their unwavering resolve, hard work, and determination in the face of adversity, inspiring future generations to continue striving for equality and justice.

Often “Greatness” is better found in the support that got you to the objective.

Never forget those that serve others with greatness of quality and character.

NSDQ! & LLTB!

The power of the Bible changes which in turn changes which will ultimately change what comes out of your mouth, which can change everyone.

For so long I’ve been back and forth with my faith meter full or empty like a tide into a lagoon.

I’ve been filled with the Holy Spirit and I’ve also been so angry that I thought I would lose my faith.

But I always kept praying regardless of what I thought. In hopes that I would hear his voice again and have a full on conversation with him driving to work

The last few years after retirement have been a rollercoaster with my faith, health, marriage and not knowing who I am, an identity crisis. I know who I was but who am I now. Nothing was the same anymore. I was permanently stationed at home now instead of being TDY at home my entire military career.

But…….. after seeing and listening to Dylan on the podcast with Big Al, I realized that it’s ok for people like me and where I came from to be open about faith. I wish we had leaders like Dylan back then. Don’t get me wrong, I had GREAT leadership. The Overbey’s, the Wilson’s, the Elliot’s, the Bozowskis, the Roses and the list goes on and on. But Dylan awed me. I met him once at BNCOC many years ago but it was a one sided conversation, I basically was saying stuff that wasn’t true through some of my sources and he came and told me in the nicest way to shut the F up. That resonated with me for a long time. He was a professional! I wish I had him as a leader at any point of my career.

I’ll support @freedom and faith. They are doing things that should’ve been done a long time ago.

The Giant Killer
·
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!

Get Some! And, support a GREAT org!

Dear Art “Burt” Reynolds,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. Allow me to extend the Fall In communities sincerest gratitude for your remarkable service and unwavering dedication to our Tribe. Your contributions are instrumental in the growth and success of our platform but have also significantly impacted our community in the most positive ways imaginable.

Your commitment to excellence and expertise coupled with your unshakable faith in America, is a driving force behind our achievements. Your innovative ideas and proactive approach have propelled us toward new heights, enabling us to offer unparalleled services to our users. Your ability to inspire and lead the team has fostered a collaborative and productive environment, which is truly commendable.

Furthermore, your dedication has ensured the highest standards of security and reliability instilling confidence and trust among our users. It is evident that your efforts play a crucial role in establishing Fall In as a secure and dependable platform. For this, we are immensely grateful.

On a personal note, I want to express my appreciation for the support and guidance you provided me, and the Team. Your mentorship has been invaluable, and I am honored by the opportunity to work alongside someone of your caliber.

Please accept my heartfelt thanks for your service to Fall In and the community we serve. Your legacy of excellence and commitment will continue to inspire us all.

NSDQ-Serving! & LLTB!

Warmest regards,

The Fall In Skipper

via: Medal of Honor Valor Trail
5h ·
#OnThisDay

In early March 2002, coalition forces launched Operation Anaconda to encircle remaining Taliban forces in Paktia province, Afghanistan. On March 3, a seven-man team of Navy SEALs and one Air Force combat controller John Chapman left by Chinook helicopter for a reconnaissance mission on the Takur Ghar mountain. Reaching the deployment ridge on the morning of March 4, the team, led by Senior Chief Britt Slabinski, came under heavy fire. Petty Officer First Class Neil Roberts fell from the helicopter, which was soon forced to crash-land three miles away.

Quickly, the team decided to return for Roberts, unaware he had been killed. Immediately coming under attack after re-engaging, Chapman and Slabinski charged up an incline in deep snow to successfully clear an enemy bunker. Soon after, a machine gun in a nearby strongpoint opened fire on the team. Chapman assaulted this bunker, exposed himself to the automatic fire, and was wounded in his efforts. Despite his injuries, Chapman kept fighting until mortally injured. For his bravery and ultimate sacrifice, Chapman was posthumously decorated with the Medal of Honor.

With his team suffering casualties, Slabinski moved them to a stronger position and ordered nearby close air support. Enemy mortar attacks commenced at daybreak, forcing the group further down the mountain. Across rough terrain, Slabinski carried a seriously wounded comrade while directing airstrikes. For 14 hours, he helped stabilize casualties and battled off enemy attacks. Despite suffering killed and wounded men, a quick-reaction force of Army Rangers and Air Force troops moved up to Slabinski’s team. Together, they fought against Taliban assaults until 8:15 p.m. when all personnel, including the seven men killed, were extracted by helicopter.

For his leadership and courage throughout the battle, Slabinski received the Navy Cross, which was upgraded to the Medal of Honor in 2018.
Photo: "The Battle of Takur Ghar" by Keith Rocco, National Guard Heritage Painting

via: Combat Control Foundation
·
John Chapman, known to his friends as ‘Chappy’ joined the Air Force in 1985 and was trained as an Information Systems Operator. Chappy later retrained as an Air Force Special Tactics Combat Controller in 1990.

On March 4, 2002, Combat Controller Tech Sergeant John Chapman was involved in a grueling 17-hour firefight during the Battle of Takur Ghar supporting Operation Anaconda.

The heroic actions Chappy decided to make that day, would end his life but would save the lives of 23 team members.

John was posthumously awarded the Air Force Cross for his extraordinary heroism, superb airmanship, aggressiveness in the face of the enemy, and dedication to the service of his country.

In March 2018, Chapman's family was notified that his Air Force Cross was to be upgraded to the Medal of Honor.

He was posthumously promoted to the rank of Master Sergeant and his name was added to the Medal of Honor wall at the Air Force Memorial.

He is the first Airman to receive the Medal of Honor since the Vietnam War, and the only combat controller to receive the award.

Learn more about MSgt John A. Chapman: https://buff.ly/3Tl9BDC

#FirstThere #AFSPECWAR #AFSW #STS #CCT #CombatControl #CombatControlTeam #SpecialWarfare #Airmen #SpecialOperations #CombatController #SpecialTacticsAirmen #USAF #AFSOC #MedalofHonor #HeroicActions #Chapman

Support Eli Mayers on Fall In. CW5 Mayers is a retired 1-160th Flight Lead and on mission at the Jesus Pattern. Be the hands and feet of a great mission.

DONATE HERE today and help oppressed populations with resources needed to build the Church’s influence where God is moving to save souls.

https://www.thejesuspattern.com/give

NSDQ-Serving!

- AFSOC Combat Controller TSgt.John Chapman's family receives his Medal of Honor posthumously today -

This is the FIRST Medal of Honor for a Special Tactics Airman -- & the 1st Airman since the Vietnam War.

SUMMARY OF ACTION: BATTLE AT TAKUR GHAR

Sergeant Chapman enlisted in the Air Force on Sept. 27, 1985, as an information systems operator, but felt called to be part of Air Force special operations. In 1989, he cross-trained to become an Air Force combat controller.

According to friends and family, Sergeant Chapman had a tendency to make the difficult look effortless, and consistently sought new challenges. Dating back to his high school days, he made the varsity soccer squad as a freshman. Also an avid muscle-car enthusiast, he rebuilt and maintained an old Pontiac GTO.

Combat control would prove to be another instance of “making it look easy.”

Combat control training is more than two years long and amongst the most rigorous in the U.S. military. Only about one in ten Airmen who start the program graduate.

From months of rigorous physical fitness training to multiple joint schools – including military SCUBA, Army static-line and freefall, air traffic control, and combat control schools – Sergeant Chapman is remembered as someone who could do anything put in front of him.

“One remembers two types of students – the sharp ones and the really dull ones – and Chapman was in the sharp category,” said Ron Childress, a former Combat Control School instructor. Combat Control School is one of the most difficult points of a combat controller’s training program, from completing arduous tasks without sleeping for days, to running miles with weighted rucksacks and a gas mask.

“During one of his first days at Combat Control School, I noticed a slight smirk on his face like [the training] was too simple for him…and it was,” said Childress.

Following Combat Control School, Sergeant Chapman served with the 1721st Combat Control Squadron at Pope Air Force Base, North Carolina, where he met his wife, Valerie, in 1992. They had two daughters, who were the center of Sergeant Chapman’s world even when he was away from home – which was common in the combat control career field.

“He would come home from a long trip and immediately have on his father hat – feeding, bathing, reading and getting his girls ready for bed,” said Chief Master Sgt. Michael West, who served with Sergeant Chapman through Combat Control School, a three-year tour in Okinawa, Japan, and at Pope Air Force Base. “They were his life and he was proud of them…to the Air Force he was a great hero…what I saw was a great father.”

The Battle of Takur Ghar

In conjunction with Operation Anaconda in March 2002, small reconnaissance teams were tasked to establish observation posts in strategic locations in Afghanistan, and when able, direct U.S. air power to destroy enemy targets. The mountain of Takur Ghar was an ideal spot for such an observation post, with excellent visibility to key locations. For Sergeant Chapman and his joint special operations teammates, the mission on the night of March 3 was to establish a reconnaissance position on Takur Ghar and report al Qaeda movement in the Sahi-Kowt area.

“This was very high profile, no-fail job, and we picked John,” said retired Air Force Col. Ken Rodriguez, Sergeant Chapman’s commander at the time. “In a very high-caliber career field, with the highest quality of men – even then – John stood out as our guy.”

During the initial insertion onto Afghanistan’s Takur Ghar mountaintop on March 4, the MH-47 “Chinook” helicopter carrying Sergeant Chapman and the joint special operations reconnaissance team was ambushed. A rocket propelled grenade struck the helicopter and bullets ripped through the fuselage. The blast ripped through the left side of the Chinook, throwing Navy Petty Officer 1st Class Neil Roberts off the ramp of the helicopter onto the enemy-infested mountaintop below.

The severely damaged aircraft was unable to return for Petty Officer Roberts, and performed a controlled crash landing a few miles from the mountaintop. Thus began the chain of events that led to unparalleled acts of valor by numerous joint special operations forces, the deaths of seven U.S. servicemen and now, 16 years later, posthumous award of the Medal of Honor to Sergeant Chapman.

Alone, against the elements and separated from his team with enemy personnel closing in, Petty Officer Roberts was in desperate need of support. The remaining joint special operations team members, fully aware of his precarious situation, immediately began planning a daring rescue attempt that included returning to the top of Takur Ghar where they had just taken heavy enemy fire.

As the team returned to Petty Officer Roberts’ last-known position, now on a second MH-47, the entrenched enemy forces immediately engaged the approaching helicopter with heavy fire. Miraculously, the helicopter, although heavily damaged, was able to successfully offload the remaining special operations team members and return to base. Sergeant Chapman, upon exiting the helicopter, immediately charged uphill through the snow toward enemy positions while under heavy fire from three directions.

Once on the ground, the team assessed the situation and moved quickly to the high ground. The most prominent cover and concealment on the hilltop were a large rock and tree. As they approached the tree, Sergeant Chapman received fire from two enemy personnel in a fortified position. He returned fire, charged the enemy position and took out the enemy combatants within.

Almost immediately, the team began taking machine gun fire from another fortified enemy position only 12 meters away. Sergeant Chapman deliberately moved into the open to engage the new enemy position. As he heroically engaged the enemy, he was struck by a burst of gunfire and became critically injured.

Sergeant Chapman regained his faculties and continued to fight relentlessly despite his severe wounds. He sustained a violent engagement with multiple enemy fighters, for over an hour through the arrival of the quick reaction force, before paying the ultimate sacrifice. In performance of these remarkably heroic actions, Sergeant Chapman is credited with saving the lives of his teammates.

The upgrade to MOH

“John was always selfless – it didn’t just emerge on Takur Ghar – he had always been selfless and highly competent, and thank God for all those qualities,” said Col. Rodriguez. “He could have hunkered down in the bunker and waited for the (Quick Reaction Force) and (Combat Search and Rescue) team to come in, but he assessed the situation and selflessly gave his life for them.”

Sergeant Chapman was originally awarded the Air Force Cross for his actions; however, following a review of Air Force Cross and Silver Star recipients directed by then-Secretary of Defense Ash Carter, the Secretary of the Air Force recommended Sergeant Chapman’s Air Force Cross be upgraded to the Medal of Honor.

In accordance with Air Force policy whereby Medal of Honor recipients are automatically promoted one grade on the first day of the month following the award, Sergeant Chapman will be posthumously promoted to the rank of master sergeant on Sept. 1, 2018.

Although Sergeant Chapman will be awarded the Medal of Honor, family and friends have expressed his humility and how he would react today, if he were here.

“If John were to find out he received the Medal of Honor, he would be very humbled and honored,” said Chief Master Sergeant West. “He was just doing his job, and that’s what he would say at this moment.”

His widow, Valerie Nessel, has always known her husband was capable of such greatness, but asserts that John wouldn’t be anxious to be in the spotlight.

“[John] would want to recognize the other men that lost their lives,” said Valerie. “Even though he did something he was awarded the Medal of Honor for, he would not want the other guys to be forgotten – that they were part of the team together.”

“I think he would say that his Medal of Honor was not just for him, but for all of the guys who were lost,” she added.

In total, seven service members lost their lives during the Battle of Takur Ghar:

Petty Officer 1st Class Neil Roberts – U.S. Navy SEAL
Technical Sergeant John Chapman – U.S. Air Force combat control
Senior Airman Jason Cunningham – U.S. Air Force pararescue
Corporal Matthew Commons – U.S. Army Ranger
Sergeant Bradley Crose – U.S. Army Ranger
Specialist Marc Anderson – U.S. Army Ranger
Sergeant Philip Svitak – U.S. Army 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment

“John would have, so I’ll say it for him. Every American who set foot on that mountaintop acted with great courage and selflessness, and deserve all of our praise and admiration for the sacrifices they made,” said Col. Rodriguez.

Too soon?

Today's cell phone network outage should be raising some questions. Do you have a way to communicate with your local support network? Do you have ways to power those methods of communication? Do you have designated frequencies for everyone to meet on? DO YOU EVEN HAVE A COMMS PLAN OR LOCAL SUPPORT NETWORK?!

If we do not learn and adapt from our life experiences we are failing to grasp the most important lessons! NSDQ!

hashtag#America hashtag#Comms hashtag#preparedness

Small Town America = Perfect Bugout Location? Part 3

Location Location Location...

A simple rule from the battlefield for those not used to conflict,
Space = Time = Responding vs Reacting to a situation

Responding to a situation allows time to evaluate a situation, critical thought and strategy to be applied, a plan to be implemented.

Reacting means dealing with the hand you are dealt relying almost solely on training and instinct which has a significantly higher probability of a less than ideal outcome.

There is a 15-mile buffer of corn, soybeans, and wheat surrounding my small town of 16k people. While you can be more isolated by sitting in the woods somewhere there are many things you give up by doing so. If you are isolated in the woods, who will give you information about what is going on around you? Your "secret" location may not be secret and definitely won't remain a secret once you start living there. We're not even going to get into maintaining 24-hour security of a remote location in this post, if you're managing security who is working? If you're sick whos' maintaining security?

Small Town America is the perfect balance between isolation and community support. There will always be a bad actor or two...but they are well known and easy to keep track of within a community, not so much while isolated in the woods. In your environment do you have space/time? Do you still think isolation in the woods is your best option?

#America #veteran #commonsense

Small Town America = Perfect Bugout Location?

Last week I talked about Local Support Networks when dealing with disasters either natural or manmade. While there are those that plan to "go to the woods," often this is not the ideal approach and I'm going to use this series of posts to talk about how that concept is only the preferred option as a last resort.

First lets take a look at why going mobile to a remote location in times of emergency is not ideal. If the disaster is natural or manmade there will be hinderances to travel! While you may have the perfect "prepped" vehicle the majority of the nation does not and they will be on the roads with you. If anyone has seen an "organized" evacuation BEFORE a hurricane you can understand that no 35" tired 4x4 is going to get you through TRAFFIC!

You know the condition of the resources you are leaving FROM but you do not know the condition of the resources where you are going TO! One we are talking about physical supplies but two also PEOPLE you may need to lean on! No matter how prepared you are and the size of your knowledge library you CANNOT BE AN EXPERT IN EVERYTHING!

I don't know about you but if I have a appendicitis I'm not going to have my family operating on me on the kitchen table, I want a doctor that has done it before! The people around me are great people and I know them all by name (small town America)! I know doctors, farmers, mechanics, builders, vets....all in my Local Support Network.

If bad things happen DON'T PANIC, and you don't have to ditch everything to go to a bugout location, far from it! Have a plan to support yourself in your current location, and people to lean on for specialty skills. If you don't have a PRACTICAL skill that can contribute, now would be a great time to LEARN one!

More posts on this topic to follow!

#America #Veteran #commonsense

This Day in US Army Signal Corp History:
1917: For the first time in US history, a human voice travels by radiotelephone from an airplane to the ground.
Shortly thereafter Close Air Support (CAS), Day Zero, began...

The Enduring Solitude Of Combat Vets:

Retired Army Special Forces Sgt. Maj. Alan Farrell is one of the more interesting people in this country nowadays, a decorated veteran of the Vietnam War who teaches French at VMI, reviews films and writes poetry. Just your typical sergeant major/brigadier general with a Ph.D. in French and a fistful of other degrees.

This is a speech that he gave to Vets at the Harvard Business School last Veterans' Day. I know it is long but well worth the read:
--------
"Ladies and Gentlemens:

Kurt Vonnegut -- Corporal Vonnegut -- famously told an assembly like this one that his wife had begged him to "bring light into their tunnels" that night. "Can't do that," said Vonnegut, since, according to him, the audience would at once sense his duplicity, his mendacity, his insincerity... and have yet another reason for despair. I'll not likely have much light to bring into any tunnels this night, either.

The remarks I'm about to make to you I've made before... in essence at least. I dare to make them again because other Veterans seem to approve. I speak mostly to Veterans. I don't have much to say to them, the others, civilians, real people. These remarks, I offer you for the reaction I got from one of them, though, a prison shrink. I speak in prisons a lot. Because some of our buddies wind up in there. Because their service was a Golden Moment in a life gone sour. Because... because no one else will.

In the event, I've just got done saying what I'm about to say to you, when the prison psychologist sidles up to me to announce quietly: "You've got it." The "it," of course, is Post Stress Traumatic Traumatic Post Stress Disorder Stress... Post. Can never seem to get the malady nor the abbreviation straight. He's worried about me... that I'm wandering around loose... that I'm talking to his cons. So worried, but so sincere, that I let him make me an appointment at the V.A. for "diagnosis." Sincerity is a rare pearl.

So I sulk in the stuffy anteroom of the V.A. shrink's office for the requisite two hours (maybe you have), finally get admitted. He's a nice guy. Asks me about my war, scans my 201 File, and, after what I take to be clinical scrutiny, announces without preamble: "You've got it." He can snag me, he says, 30 percent disability. Reimbursement, he says, from Uncle Sam, now till the end of my days. Oh, and by the way, he says, there's a cure. I'm not so sure that I want a cure for 30 percent every month. This inspires him to explain. He takes out a piece of paper and a Magic Marker™. Now: Anybody who takes out a frickin' Magic Marker™ to explain something to you thinks you're a bonehead and by that very gesture says so to God and everybody.

Anyhow. He draws two big circles on a sheet of paper, then twelve small circles. Apples and grapes, you might say. In fact, he does say. The "grapes," he asserts, stand for the range of emotional response open to a healthy civilian, a normal person: titillation, for instance, then amusement, then pleasure, then joy, then delight and so on across the spectrum through mild distress on through angst -- whatever that is -- to black depression. The apples? That's what you got, traumatized veteran: Ecstasy and Despair. But we can fix that for you. We can make you normal.

So here's my question: Why on earth would anybody want to be normal?

And here's what triggered that curious episode:

The words of the prophet Jeremiah:

My bowels. My bowels. I am pained at my very heart; my heart maketh a noise in me... [T]hou hast heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war. Destruction upon destruction is cried; for the whole land is spoilt and my curtains... How long shall I see the standard and hear the sound of the trumpet?

I dunno about Jeremiah's bowels... or his curtains, but I've seen the standard and heard the sound of the trumpet. Again. Civilians mooing about that "Thin Red Line of 'eroes" between them and the Darkness. Again. ‘Course it's not red any more. Used to be olive drab. Then treetop camouflage. Then woodland. Then chocolate chip. Now pixelated, random computer-generated. Multi-cam next, is it? Progress. The kids are in the soup. Again. Me? I can't see the front sights of me piece any more. And if I can still lug my rucksack five miles, I need these days to be defibrillated when I get there. Nope. I got something like six Honorable Discharges from Pharaoh's Army. Your Mom's gonna be wearing Kevlar before I do. Nope. This one's on the kids, I'm afraid, the next generation.

I can't help them. Not those who make the sacrifice in the desert nor those in the cesspool cities of a land that if two troopers from the One Oh One or two Lance Corporals could find on a map a few years ago, I'll be surprised. Nobody can help... except by trying to build a society Back Here that deserves such a sacrifice.

We gonna win the war? I dunno. They tell me I lost mine. I know I didn't start it. Soldiers don't start wars. Civilians do. And civilians say when they're over. I'm just satisfied right now that these kids, for better or worse, did their duty as God gave them the light to see it. But I want them back. And I worry not about the fight, but about the after: after the war, after the victory, after... God forbid... the defeat, if it come to that. It's after that things get tricky. After that a Soldier needs the real grit and wit. And after that a Soldier needs to believe. Anybody can believe before. During? A Soldier has company in the fight, in Kandahar or Kabul, Basra or Baghdad. It's enough to believe in the others during. But after... and I can tell you this having come home from a war: After ...a Soldier is alone. A batch of them, maybe... but still alone.

Years ago, maybe... when I was still in the Army, my A Team got the mission to support an Air Force escape and evasion exercise. Throw a bunch of downed pilots into the wilderness, let local guerrillas (us) feed them into a clandestine escape net and spirit them out by train just like in The Great Escape to... Baltimore, of all places. So we set up an elaborate underground network: farmhouses, caves, barns, pickup trucks, loads of hay where a guy can hide, fifty-five gallon drums to smuggle the evadees through checkpoints in. We've even cozened the Norfolk and Western Railroad out of a boxcar.

Sooooo... come midnight, with our escapees safely stowed in that car, we wait for a special train to make a detour, back onto the siding, hook it up, and freight the pilots off to Maree-land. Pretty realistic, seems to us.

Now, for safety's sake the Railroad requires a Line Administrator on site to supervise any special stop. Sure enough, just before midnight two suit-and-ties show up toting a red lantern. Civilians. We sniff at them disdainfully. One of them wigwags to the train. With a clank she couples the boxcar and chugs out into the night. The other guy -- frumpy Babbit from the front office -- shuffles off down the track and out onto a trestle bridge over the gorge. He stands there with his hands behind his back, peering up at the cloud-strewn summertime sky, a thousand bucks worth of Burberry overcoat riffling in the night breeze. I edge over respectfully behind him. Wait. He notices me after a while, looks back. "You know," he says, "Was on a night like this 40 years ago that I jumped into Normandy."

Who'da thought?

Who'da thought? Then I thought... back to right after my return from Vietnam. I'm working nights at a convenience store just down the road from this very spot. Lousy job. Whores, bums, burnouts, lowlifes. That's your clientele after midnight in a convenience store. One particular guy I remember drifts in every morning about 0400. Night work. Janitor, maybe. Not much to distinguish him from the rest of the early morning crowd of shadows shuffling around the place. Fingers and teeth yellowed from cigarette smoke. A weathered, leathered face that just dissolves into the colorless crowd of nobodies.

Never says a word. Buys his margarine and macaroni and Miller's. Plunks down his cash. Hooks a grubby hand around his bag and threads his way out of the place and down the street. Lost in another world. Like the rest of the derelicts. One night, he's fumbling for his keys, drops them on the floor, sets his wallet on the counter -- brown leather, I still remember -- and the wallet flops open. Pinned to the inside of it, worn shiny and smooth, with its gold star gleaming out of the center: combat jump badge from that great World War II... Normandy maybe, just like the suit-and-tie.

Who'da thought?

Two guys scarred Out There. Not sure just where or how even. You can lose your life without dying. But the guy who made it to the top and the guy shambling along the bottom are what James Joyce calls in another context "secret messengers." Citizens among the rest, who look like the rest, talk like the rest, act like the rest... but who know prodigious secrets, wherever they wash up and whatever use they make of them. Who know somber despair but inexplicable laughter, the ache of duty but distrust of inaction. Who know risk and exaltation... and that awful drop though empty air we call failure... and solitude! They know solitude.

Because solitude is what waits for the one who shall have borne the battle. Out There in it together... back here alone.

Alone to make way in a scrappy, greedy, civilian world "filching lucre and gulping warm beer," as Conrad had it. Alone to learn the skills a self-absorbed, hustling, modern society values. Alone to unlearn the deadly skills of the former -- and bloody -- business. Alone to find a companion -- maybe -- and alone -- maybe -- even with that companion over a lifetime... for who can make someone else who hasn't seen it understand horror, blackness, filth Incommunicado. Voiceless. Alone.

My Railroad president wandered off by himself to face his memories; my Store 24 regular was clearly a man alone with his.

For my two guys, it was the after the battle that they endured, and far longer than the moment of terror in the battle. Did my Railroad exec learn in the dark of war to elbow other men aside, to view all other men as the enemy, to "fight" his way up the corporate ladder just as he fought his way out of the bocages of Normandy? Did he find he could never get close to a wife or children again and turn his energy, perhaps his anger toward some other and solitary goal Did the Store/24 guy never get out of his parachute harness and shiver in an endless night patrolled by demons he couldn't get shut of? Did he haul out that tattered wallet and shove his jump badge under the nose of those he'd done wrong to, disappointed, embarrassed? Did he find fewer and fewer citizens Back Here who even knew what it was? Did he keep it because he knew what it was? From what I've seen -- from a distance, of course -- of success, I'd say it's not necessarily sweeter than failure -- which I have seen close up.

Well, that's what I said that woke up the prison shrink.
And I say again to you that silence is the reward we reserve for you and your buddies, for my Cadets. Silence is the sound of Honor, which speaks no word and lays no tread. And Nothing is the glory of the one who's done Right. And Alone is the society of those who do it the Hard Way, alone even when they have comrades like themselves in the fight. I've gotta hope as a teacher that my Cadets, as a citizen that you and your buddies will have the inner resources, the stuff of inner life, the values in short, to abide the brute loneliness of after, to find the courage to continue the march, to do Right, to live with what they've done, you've done in our name, to endure that dark hour of frustration, humiliation, failure maybe... or victory, for one or the other is surely waiting Back Here. Unless you opt for those grapes...

My two guys started at the same place and wound up at the far ends of the spectrum. As we measure their distance from that starting point, they seem to return to it: the one guy in the darkness drawn back to a Golden Moment in his life from a lofty vantage point; t'other guy lugging through God knows what gauntlet of shame and frustration that symbol of his Golden Moment. Today we celebrate your Golden Moment. While a whole generation went ganging after its own indulgence, vanity, appetite, you clung to a foolish commitment, to foolish old traditions; as Soldiers, Sailors, Pilots, Marines you honored pointless ritual, suffered the endless, sluggish monotony of duty, raised that flag not just once, or again, or -- as has become fashionable now -- in time of peril, but every single morning. You stuck it out. You may have had -- as we like to say -- the camaraderie of brothers or sisters to buck each other up or the dubious support (as we like to say... and say more than do, by the way) of the folks back home, us... but in the end you persevered alone. Just as alone you made that long walk from Out There with a duffle bag fulla pixelated, random computer-generated dirty laundry -- along with your bruised dreams, your ecstasy and your despair -- Back Here at tour's end.

And you will be alone, for all the good intentions and solicitude of them, the other, the civilians. Alone. But...together. Your generation, whom us dumbo civilians couldn't keep out of war, will bear the burden of a soldier's return... alone. And a fresh duty: to complete the lives of your buddies who didn't make it back, to confect for them a living monument to their memory.

Your comfort, such as it is, will come from the knowledge that others of that tiny fraction of the population that fought for us are alone but grappling with the same dilemmas -- often small and immediate, often undignified or humiliating, now and then immense and overwhelming -- by your persistence courting the risk, by your obstinacy clinging to that Hard Way. Some of you will be stronger than others, but even the strong ones will have their darker moments. Where we can join each other if not relieve each other, we secret messengers, is right here in places like this and on occasions like this -- one lousy day of the year, your day, my day, our day, -- in the company of each other and of the flag we served. Not much cheer in that kerugma. But there's the by-God glory.

"I know..." says the prophet Isaiah:

... I know that thou art obstinate, and thy neck is an iron sinew, and thy brow brass...I have shewed thee new things, even hidden things. Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have [refined] thee...in the furnace of affliction...

Well, all right, then. Why on earth would anybody want to be normal? Thanks for Listening and Lord love the lot of youse."

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!

via: The Giant Killer
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Pictured are the eight U.S. Marines of the suicide mission "Doom Patrol" to recover the body of a dead Marine, Charlie Company, 7th Marine in Quảng Nam Province, 1968.

In February 1968, eight Marines volunteered for a suicide mission. After 32 US casualties were incurred during the first 30 hours of Operation Pursuit. The operation was initiated in mid-February 1968 by the 1st Marine Division to search for enemy rocket caches in the mountains west of Da Nang.

Operation Pursuit began at 11 a.m. on Feb. 14 as Charlie Company crossed the western end of Hill 10 while Delta Company departed from Hill 41, about 2 miles to the southeast. Accompanying them were 1st Division combat correspondent Sgt. Robert Bayer and photographer Cpl. R.J. Del Vecchio.

The two companies linked up on the approach to Hills 270 and 310. The dense jungle growth at the base of Hill 270 channeled the Marines into a single-file column during the slow, exhausting climb that forced the men to hack out a trail with machetes. By 6:30 p.m., Delta Company had secured Objective 1, the saddle between Hills 270 and 310. Charlie Company had secured Objective 2, the top of Hill 270.

Pfc. Michael J. Kelly, a member of the point squad who had been with the company for only two months, was hit by an enemy bullet that struck a grenade on his cartridge belt. The detonation killed Kelly, severing a leg in the process.

Lt. Col. Bill Davis ordered Charlie and Delta companies of the 1st Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, to get off Hills 270 and 310 and return to their base camps in the flatlands to the east.

A little later the morning of Feb. 16, the acting commander of Charlie Company, 1st Lt. Dana F. MacCormack, whose men were descending from Hill 270, radioed Davis: “Here come the NVA, Colonel! I’ve got one more KIA that the last helo did not have room for. We are having a hell of a time carrying this body, and the bones are cutting up the body bag.”

Davis, on Hill 310 with the battalion command group, told MacCormack to get Charlie Company off the mountain immediately to avoid any more casualties. And that meant leaving the body behind.

Thousands of North Vietnamese Army troops had trekked down the Ho Chi Minh Trail in eastern Laos and moved through South Vietnam’s A Shau Valley before making their way to high ground, including Hills 270 and 310, overlooking an area known as Happy Valley and the Marine positions to the east.

In early afternoon, out of food and water and low on ammunition, the weary, battle-shocked Marines of Charlie Company arrived at Hill 10 and were met by the actual company commander, Capt. Karl Ripplemeyer, who had been on leave and just returned. Delta Company, meanwhile, had reached its base camp on Hill 41.

Davis radioed the regimental commander, Col. Ross R. Miner, and told him that the Marines were back at the command posts, but added that a dead Marine had to be left behind. A few hours later, Miner told Davis that a B-52 bombing mission was scheduled to strike Hills 270 and 310 and ordered him to send a team to recover Kelly’s body before the bombing started. Davis, however, did not want to risk any more lives in those mountains before the bombing runs were completed and argued against an immediate recovery mission, but Miner wouldn’t rescind his order.

Davis discussed Miner’s order with Ripplemeyer, as well as the battalion operations officer and the officer who coordinated air support for the battalion. Davis decided to use Charlie Company volunteers for the recovery since they knew the location of Kelly’s body.

“It was 100% a suicide mission,” Whittier, the 2nd Platoon lieutenant, would write to his wife on Feb. 17. “This is a point I can’t too heavily emphasize.”

“Suicide mission” was an unintentionally appropriate term, given Charlie Company’s longstanding nickname: “Suicide Charley.” The unit had earned its nickname during the October 1942 Japanese assault on Guadalcanal, when 1st Battalion was led by Lt. Col. Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller, who later became the Corps’ most decorated Marine and finished his career as a lieutenant general. During that battle, Charlie Company held its line against a far larger Japanese force despite suffering heavy losses. The day after the fight, a white flag of parachute cloth with a picture of a skull and crossbones rose over the company’s position. Emblazoned on the flag was “Suicide Charley.”

The patrol to recover Kelly’s body had only a few hours to prepare for its departure. A runner was sent to Charlie Company seeking the volunteers, including an experienced squad leader. John D. McCreless, then a 20-year-old sergeant, recalled: “When the decision came down to use a squad of volunteers, I got crazy and raised my hand and said I’d lead it.”

Lance Cpl. Stephen B. McCashin responded similarly: “When I heard they were asking for volunteers, I said anyone who would go back into those mountains again would have to be crazy. I thought it was a suicide mission, but since I’m on my second tour here, I must be crazy, so I decided to go.”

Pfc. Joseph A. Hamrick signed up because, he said, “I was the only one of the volunteers who knew exactly where the body was, so even though I had only been in the ‘Nam’ for a month and had never walked point, I figured I could go right to it.”

The other Marines on the eight-man patrol were Pfc. Thomas M. Adamson, Lance Cpl. Tyree Albert Chamberlain, Pfc. Alfred P. Granados, Cpl. Billy R. Ranes and Pfc. Pedro A. Rodriguez. Someone—no one can remember exactly who—dubbed the volunteers the “Doom Patrol.”

Granados, the radio operator, remembers their preparations. “Our equipment was light for a short recon patrol—no helmets, flak jackets or cartridge belts, and all but one of the men of the Doom Patrol asked to trade their M16s for the more reliable M14, and permission was granted,” he said. “We were to make no enemy contact, travel by stealth in the dark, get the body and return. If we ran into a superior enemy force, we were to abort, split up and get back any way we could.”

Before the men departed, a senior staff sergeant told McCreless: “None of you will probably return alive, but to increase your chances, if things get hairy you can just bring back the leg.” The eight Marines weren’t totally on their own for the mission. The battalion air officer had arranged for continuous air support for the patrol.

At 2 a.m. on Feb. 17, McCreless’ squad left Hill 10. A little more than an hour later, near the abandoned village of Phuoc Ninh —military maps distinguished villages with the same name by numbering them—the Marines spotted NVA soldiers moving toward their position. Chamberlain opened fire and killed one of them, but the patrol was now compromised. McCreless faced a difficult decision: abort the mission or stay the course. He spoke to the battalion command center and was told to proceed. No one wanted an empty casket sent to Kelly’s family, and the men on the mission knew the odds when they volunteered.

On the move again toward the base of Hill 270, the Marines observed another enemy patrol, and McCreless stopped for an hour near another abandoned village, Phuoc Ninh, a precautionary pause in the dark to make sure there was no other NVA activity in the area before continuing their journey.

By sunrise, around 5 a.m., the patrol had cleared the open rice paddy areas and started into the dense jungle on the side of the mountain—with a long march still ahead, which meant they would have to conduct their “stealth” mission in broad daylight. Three hours later, the men were in a flat area above the bomb crater where Kelly’s body lay, covered with a poncho. There they waited while pilots in O1-Bird Dog propeller-driven planes called in airstrikes.

One of the pilots radioed McCreless to tell him that napalm drops by F-4 Phantom II fighter-bombers would land just forward of the bomb crater. He instructed the patrol members to take cover, take three deep breaths, exhale and hold their next breath. The napalm struck about a 100 yards in front of the patrol.
Granados still remembers the intense heat and dust being sucked past his face into the inferno. The shock waves from the blast seemed to raise him off the ground.

After the napalm flames diminished, Granados saw NVA soldiers emerging from bunkers and spider holes.
McCreless, worried that the enemy troops were about to move against his seriously outnumbered men, yelled: “Get the leg, and let’s get the hell out!”

Moments later, Ranes and Adamson dashed to the crater. They grabbed the severed leg and quickly strapped it to a backpack that Chamberlain carried. The eight Marines then ran back down the trail, amid the still-smoldering napalm and the enemy fire tearing into trees and brush around them. A final strafing run by F-4 Phantoms silenced the firing.

After reaching the flatlands, the patrol came upon Charlie Company’s 1st Platoon, sent to assist the squad if any of the men had been wounded or killed. The platoon escorted McCreless’ squad to base camp, and by 2 p.m. all the Marines were back on Hill 10.

Amid great rejoicing, Davis summoned the men to his quarters and handed them cigars and cold beer to celebrate their incredible accomplishment. (He wasn’t aware at that time that the full body had not been recovered.) As recounted in his autobiography Tet Marine, Davis told the Doom Patrol that he had been a fan of Suicide Charley since the Chosin Reservoir battle during the Korean War. “I’ve been proud of them during all these years, because they did great things at the Reservoir,” he said. “But never did they do anything greater than YOU did, as volunteers, last night and today.”

McCreless said: “The only reason I can think of why we were able to pull it off is that the NVA just couldn’t believe that we were stupid enough to go in there and do what we did. They must have thought we were bait for some kind of trap.”

After the celebration, Davis typed a letter to the commander of the 7th Marine Regiment:

“Dear Colonel Miner, I’ve never been prouder to be a Marine than at this moment! This magnificent squad [from Suicide Charley] went on what appeared to be a suicide mission. I wish you could have heard this young Marine [Pfc. Joseph Hamrick] describe why he volunteered. He just couldn’t imagine that an empty casket would go to a Marine’s parents. He knew they had to do the job, and while he was scared all the way out, and all the way back, he knew that they just had to succeed. I’ve just lived through an experience that I’ll always hold dear to me. Semper Fi.”

Within 10 hours of the patrol’s return, the B-52s from Andersen Air Force Base on Guam devastated the high ground on Hills 270 and 310. But the NVA would return to Hill 310, and many more Marines were wounded or killed there the following month during Operation Worth and in August during Operation Mameluke Thrust.

On March 8, Whittier and McCreless were wounded. Later that day, at the Navy hospital in Da Nang, Whittier died from his wounds. A few days later, McCreless was medevaced to Japan for additional surgery. During fighting on May 30, Doom Patrol volunteer Rodriguez was killed.

Men from E Company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Marines, found Kelly’s body on March 25 during Operation Worth. A medevac helicopter picked up the remains and took them to the mortuary in Da Nang. A funeral with a casket containing Kelly’s leg was held in his hometown of Findlay, Ohio, in March 1968. A second funeral, with the rest of his remains, was held in April 1968.

Story by Jack Wells
— Jack Wells served in Vietnam during 1968-69 as an artillery forward observer with Alpha and Bravo companies, 1st Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, and later as executive officer of H Battery, 3rd Battalion, 11th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division.

SALUTE!

USAF Special Warfare Recruiting
·
Todays Hero Story:

The President of the United States of America takes pleasure in presenting the Silver Star to Master Sergeant Timothy A. Stamey, United States Air Force, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action while serving with the 18th Air Support Operations Group in Afghanistan, from 8 November 2001 to 5 January 2002.

During this period, Sergeant Stamey served as Operational Detachment Alpha Tactical Air Control Party Sergeant in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. While assisting host nation forces, he courageously operated in enemy territory in advance of the forward line of troops, frequently negotiating minefields under continuous fire and threat of attack, with no immediate support.

Sergeant Stamey provided positive terminal attack control on over eighty sorties of fighters and bombers destroying over seventy-five tanks, mobile anti-aircraft systems, and vehicles, four ammo-dumps, numerous command and control facilities and bunkers, inflicting 2,139 enemy casualties. As a result, Northern Alliance forces were able to push forward cities of Taloqan, Khanabad and Konduz.

From 13 to 15 November 2001, enemy forces initiated a counter-attack. Accordingly, the team received continuous small arms, direct heavy weapons and indirect and direct tank fire. Sergeant Stamey called in strikes against the attackers until they withdrew.

On 23 November 2001, as allied forces were preparing for a final attack toward Khanabad and Konduz, Sergeant Stamey and the team members received sniper and heavy machine gun fire from enemy positions on three sides. He contacted a B-52, declared an emergency situation, and briefed the pilot.

Sergeant Stamey then assisted in suppressing the enemy with small arms fire. With his team running low on ammunition, he passed his remaining ammunition out to the team members. Without regard for his personal safety and under intense fire, Sergeant Stamey crawled to their ammunition storage point, returned to resupply the team, and then resumed accurate sniper fire while awaiting additional close air support. When the aircraft arrived, he resumed terminal attack control and destroyed the advancing enemy.

Sergeant Stamey's efforts directly contributed to the team's mission success. By his gallantry and devotion to duty, Sergeant Stamey has reflected great credit upon himself and the United States Air Force.

#silverstar #honor #courage #bravery #airforce #specialwarfare #tacp #jtac #thestrongshallstand
TACP Association | TACP Foundation

via: Special Operations Association
February 18, 2019
·
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.

Everyone support Cowboy raise money to stop veteran suicide.

I spoke with cowboy, and this is legit. He is raising money to stop Veteran suicide. Please, support if able.

The UFC have done a great job integrating this platform and creating those SOF Aviation tasks to support our customers.

https://theaviationist.com/2024/02/07/lets-have-a-look-at-the-rarely-seen-c-27js-of-the-u-s-army-special-operations-command/

Hello Everyone I'm Lance or like everyone else calls me cowboy. Im a Volunteer Fire Fighter and EMR in Northern Indiana. I would like everyone support this upcoming weekend in helping me promote 30hrs. of Live Streaming gameplay to Stop Soldier Suicide. The link to Donate is. https://www.facebook.com/donate/750465310342527/ If you would like to watch some of the live stream and interact the link is https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCry-fB-w6AXmo9StTiMzePg I will start streaming at 4p.m cst. Friday the 9th. Saturday will be 10:00 a.m. till 8 p.m. and Sunday 6 a.m. till 4 p.m. I hope you guys will all stop by and check out the live and donate what you can. Thank you for your support

https://youtu.be/XJkppXldbAo

Task Force Shadow-North supported 3 ODAs and multiple OGAs.

The Enduring Solitude Of Combat Vets:

Retired Army Special Forces Sgt. Maj. Alan Farrell is one of the more interesting people in this country nowadays, a decorated veteran of the Vietnam War who teaches French at VMI, reviews films and writes poetry. Just your typical sergeant major/brigadier general with a Ph.D. in French and a fistful of other degrees.
This is a speech that he gave to Vets at the Harvard Business School last Veterans' Day. I know it is long but well worth the read:
--------
"Ladies and Gentlemens:
Kurt Vonnegut -- Corporal Vonnegut -- famously told an assembly like this one that his wife had begged him to "bring light into their tunnels" that night. "Can't do that," said Vonnegut, since, according to him, the audience would at once sense his duplicity, his mendacity, his insincerity... and have yet another reason for despair. I'll not likely have much light to bring into any tunnels this night, either.

The remarks I'm about to make to you I've made before... in essence at least. I dare to make them again because other Veterans seem to approve. I speak mostly to Veterans. I don't have much to say to them, the others, civilians, real people. These remarks, I offer you for the reaction I got from one of them, though, a prison shrink. I speak in prisons a lot. Because some of our buddies wind up in there. Because their service was a Golden Moment in a life gone sour. Because... because no one else will.

In the event, I've just got done saying what I'm about to say to you, when the prison psychologist sidles up to me to announce quietly: "You've got it." The "it," of course, is Post Stress Traumatic Traumatic Post Stress Disorder Stress... Post. Can never seem to get the malady nor the abbreviation straight. He's worried about me... that I'm wandering around loose... that I'm talking to his cons. So worried, but so sincere, that I let him make me an appointment at the V.A. for "diagnosis." Sincerity is a rare pearl.

So I sulk in the stuffy anteroom of the V.A. shrink's office for the requisite two hours (maybe you have), finally get admitted. He's a nice guy. Asks me about my war, scans my 201 File, and, after what I take to be clinical scrutiny, announces without preamble: "You've got it." He can snag me, he says, 30 percent disability. Reimbursement, he says, from Uncle Sam, now till the end of my days. Oh, and by the way, he says, there's a cure. I'm not so sure that I want a cure for 30 percent every month. This inspires him to explain. He takes out a piece of paper and a Magic Marker™. Now: Anybody who takes out a frickin' Magic Marker™ to explain something to you thinks you're a bonehead and by that very gesture says so to God and everybody.

Anyhow. He draws two big circles on a sheet of paper, then twelve small circles. Apples and grapes, you might say. In fact, he does say. The "grapes," he asserts, stand for the range of emotional response open to a healthy civilian, a normal person: titillation, for instance, then amusement, then pleasure, then joy, then delight and so on across the spectrum through mild distress on through angst -- whatever that is -- to black depression. The apples? That's what you got, traumatized veteran: Ecstasy and Despair. But we can fix that for you. We can make you normal.

So here's my question: Why on earth would anybody want to be normal?

And here's what triggered that curious episode:
The words of the prophet Jeremiah:

"My bowels. My bowels. I am pained at my very heart; my heart maketh a noise in me... [T]hou hast heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war. Destruction upon destruction is cried; for the whole land is spoilt and my curtains... How long shall I see the standard and hear the sound of the trumpet?"

I dunno about Jeremiah's bowels... or his curtains, but I've seen the standard and heard the sound of the trumpet.

Again. Civilians mooing about that "Thin Red Line of 'eroes" between them and the Darkness.

Again. ‘Course it's not red any more. Used to be olive drab. Then treetop camouflage. Then woodland. Then chocolate chip. Now pixelated, random computer-generated. Multi-cam next, is it? Progress. The kids are in the soup.

Again. Me? I can't see the front sights of me piece any more. And if I can still lug my rucksack five miles, I need these days to be defibrillated when I get there. Nope. I got something like six Honorable Discharges from Pharaoh's Army. Your Mom's gonna be wearing Kevlar before I do. Nope. This one's on the kids, I'm afraid, the next generation.

I can't help them. Not those who make the sacrifice in the desert nor those in the cesspool cities of a land that if two troopers from the One Oh One or two Lance Corporals could find on a map a few years ago, I'll be surprised. Nobody can help... except by trying to build a society Back Here that deserves such a sacrifice.

We gonna win the war? I dunno. They tell me I lost mine. I know I didn't start it. Soldiers don't start wars. Civilians do. And civilians say when they're over. I'm just satisfied right now that these kids, for better or worse, did their duty as God gave them the light to see it. But I want them back. And I worry not about the fight, but about the after: after the war, after the victory, after... God forbid... the defeat, if it come to that. It's after that things get tricky. After that a Soldier needs the real grit and wit. And after that a Soldier needs to believe.

Anybody can believe before. During? A Soldier has company in the fight, in Kandahar or Kabul, Basra or Baghdad. It's enough to believe in the others during. But after... and I can tell you this having come home from a war: After ...a Soldier is alone. A batch of them, maybe... but still alone.

Years ago, maybe... when I was still in the Army, my A Team got the mission to support an Air Force escape and evasion exercise. Throw a bunch of downed pilots into the wilderness, let local guerrillas (us) feed them into a clandestine escape net and spirit them out by train just like in The Great Escape to... Baltimore, of all places. So we set up an elaborate underground network: farmhouses, caves, barns, pickup trucks, loads of hay where a guy can hide, fifty-five gallon drums to smuggle the evadees through checkpoints in. We've even cozened the Norfolk and Western Railroad out of a boxcar.

Sooooo... come midnight, with our escapees safely stowed in that car, we wait for a special train to make a detour, back onto the siding, hook it up, and freight the pilots off to Maree-land. Pretty realistic, seems to us.

Now, for safety's sake the Railroad requires a Line Administrator on site to supervise any special stop. Sure enough, just before midnight two suit-and-ties show up toting a red lantern. Civilians. We sniff at them disdainfully. One of them wigwags to the train. With a clank she couples the boxcar and chugs out into the night. The other guy -- frumpy Babbit from the front office -- shuffles off down the track and out onto a trestle bridge over the gorge. He stands there with his hands behind his back, peering up at the cloud-strewn summertime sky, a thousand bucks worth of Burberry overcoat riffling in the night breeze. I edge over respectfully behind him. Wait. He notices me after a while, looks back. "You know," he says, "Was on a night like this 40 years ago that I jumped into Normandy."

Who'da thought?

Who'da thought? Then I thought... back to right after my return from Vietnam. I'm working nights at a convenience store just down the road from this very spot. Lousy job. Whores, bums, burnouts, lowlifes. That's your clientele after midnight in a convenience store. One particular guy I remember drifts in every morning about 0400. Night work. Janitor, maybe. Not much to distinguish him from the rest of the early morning crowd of shadows shuffling around the place. Fingers and teeth yellowed from cigarette smoke. A weathered, leathered face that just dissolves into the colorless crowd of nobodies.

Never says a word. Buys his margarine and macaroni and Miller's. Plunks down his cash. Hooks a grubby hand around his bag and threads his way out of the place and down the street. Lost in another world. Like the rest of the derelicts. One night, he's fumbling for his keys, drops them on the floor, sets his wallet on the counter -- brown leather, I still remember -- and the wallet flops open. Pinned to the inside of it, worn shiny and smooth, with its gold star gleaming out of the center: combat jump badge from that great World War II... Normandy maybe, just like the suit-and-tie.

Who'da thought?

Two guys scarred Out There. Not sure just where or how even. You can lose your life without dying. But the guy who made it to the top and the guy shambling along the bottom are what James Joyce calls in another context "secret messengers." Citizens among the rest, who look like the rest, talk like the rest, act like the rest... but who know prodigious secrets, wherever they wash up and whatever use they make of them. Who know somber despair but inexplicable laughter, the ache of duty but distrust of inaction. Who know risk and exaltation... and that awful drop though empty air we call failure... and solitude!

They know solitude.
Because solitude is what waits for the one who shall have borne the battle. Out There in it together... back here alone.

Alone to make way in a scrappy, greedy, civilian world "filching lucre and gulping warm beer," as Conrad had it. Alone to learn the skills a self-absorbed, hustling, modern society values. Alone to unlearn the deadly skills of the former -- and bloody -- business. Alone to find a companion -- maybe -- and alone -- maybe -- even with that companion over a lifetime... for who can make someone else who hasn't seen it understand horror, blackness, filth Incommunicado. Voiceless. Alone.

My Railroad president wandered off by himself to face his memories; my Store 24 regular was clearly a man alone with his.

For my two guys, it was the after the battle that they endured, and far longer than the moment of terror in the battle. Did my Railroad exec learn in the dark of war to elbow other men aside, to view all other men as the enemy, to "fight" his way up the corporate ladder just as he fought his way out of the bocages of Normandy?

Did he find he could never get close to a wife or children again and turn his energy, perhaps his anger toward some other and solitary goal Did the Store/24 guy never get out of his parachute harness and shiver in an endless night patrolled by demons he couldn't get shut of? Did he haul out that tattered wallet and shove his jump badge under the nose of those he'd done wrong to, disappointed, embarrassed? Did he find fewer and fewer citizens Back Here who even knew what it was? Did he keep it because he knew what it was? From what I've seen -- from a distance, of course -- of success, I'd say it's not necessarily sweeter than failure -- which I have seen close up.

Well, that's what I said that woke up the prison shrink.

And I say again to you that silence is the reward we reserve for you and your buddies, for my Cadets. Silence is the sound of Honor, which speaks no word and lays no tread. And Nothing is the glory of the one who's done Right. And Alone is the society of those who do it the Hard Way, alone even when they have comrades like themselves in the fight. I've gotta hope as a teacher that my Cadets, as a citizen that you and your buddies will have the inner resources, the stuff of inner life, the values in short, to abide the brute loneliness of after, to find the courage to continue the march, to do Right, to live with what they've done, you've done in our name, to endure that dark hour of frustration, humiliation, failure maybe... or victory, for one or the other is surely waiting Back Here. Unless you opt for those grapes...

My two guys started at the same place and wound up at the far ends of the spectrum. As we measure their distance from that starting point, they seem to return to it: the one guy in the darkness drawn back to a Golden Moment in his life from a lofty vantage point; t'other guy lugging through God knows what gauntlet of shame and frustration that symbol of his Golden Moment. Today we celebrate your Golden Moment. While a whole generation went ganging after its own indulgence, vanity, appetite, you clung to a foolish commitment, to foolish old traditions; as Soldiers, Sailors, Pilots, Marines you honored pointless ritual, suffered the endless, sluggish monotony of duty, raised that flag not just once, or again, or -- as has become fashionable now -- in time of peril, but every single morning. You stuck it out. You may have had -- as we like to say -- the camaraderie of brothers or sisters to buck each other up or the dubious support (as we like to say... and say more than do, by the way) of the folks back home, us... but in the end you persevered alone. Just as alone you made that long walk from Out There with a duffle bag fulla pixelated, random computer-generated dirty laundry -- along with your bruised dreams, your ecstasy and your despair -- Back Here at tour's end.

And you will be alone, for all the good intentions and solicitude of them, the other, the civilians. Alone. But...together. Your generation, whom us dumbo civilians couldn't keep out of war, will bear the burden of a soldier's return... alone. And a fresh duty: to complete the lives of your buddies who didn't make it back, to confect for them a living monument to their memory.

Your comfort, such as it is, will come from the knowledge that others of that tiny fraction of the population that fought for us are alone but grappling with the same dilemmas -- often small and immediate, often undignified or humiliating, now and then immense and overwhelming -- by your persistence courting the risk, by your obstinacy clinging to that Hard Way. Some of you will be stronger than others, but even the strong ones will have their darker moments. Where we can join each other if not relieve each other, we secret messengers, is right here in places like this and on occasions like this -- one lousy day of the year, your day, my day, our day, -- in the company of each other and of the flag we served. Not much cheer in that kerugma.

But there's the by-God glory.

"I know..." says the prophet Isaiah:
... I know that thou art obstinate, and thy neck is an iron sinew, and thy brow brass...I have shewed thee new things, even hidden things. Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have [refined] thee...in the furnace of affliction...

Well, all right, then.

Why on earth would anybody want to be normal?

Thanks for Listening and Lord love the lot of youse."

Welcoming 10.40.10 fitness and there partner company Battle Bars to the Fall In family. Excited to announce, CEO Alex Witt and team, will be bringing their nutrition bars and new fitness app to Fall In Veteran and supporting those looking to “Train American.” Proud that Patriots are joining the movement.

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Pilgrim’s Progress
By MATT GALLAGHER

Home Fires features the writing of men and women who have returned from wartime service in the United States military.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

War destroys without regard to what’s fair or just. This isn’t a new or terribly profound revelation, but witnessing it, and sometimes participating in it, makes it seem like both. In a professional military, the entire point of training is to minimize the nature of chance in combat. But all the training in the world will never eliminate happenstance in war, or even render it negligible.

I returned from Iraq with all of my limbs, most of my mental faculties and a book deal. I wake up every morning in an apartment in New York City. I’m working toward a graduate degree. I have a beautiful fiancée who reminds me to slow down when I’m drinking. And every day I feel more and more detached and removed from the Iraq dustlands I promised myself I’d shed like snakeskin if I ever got back home.

Like I said, one of the lucky ones.

I didn’t really appreciate the concept of becoming ‘unstuck’ in time until I returned from war.

Meanwhile, the black bracelet on my wrist carries the names of four individuals who weren’t so lucky. One got shot through the armpit with a ricocheting bullet and bled out on an outpost roof. Two drove over the wrong piece of street at the wrong time and likely didn’t even know it was a roadside bomb that ended it all. The last one made it through 15 months of war only to get drunk one night back in the States and shoot himself in the face during an emotional breakdown.

In Kurt Vonnegut’s classic novel “Slaughterhouse-Five,” the protagonist Billy Pilgrim becomes “unstuck in time.” Much of the novel focuses on Pilgrim’s experience of the fire bombing of Dresden in World War II, something Vonnegut himself survived as an American prisoner of war. Like many American literature students, I was required to read “Slaughterhouse-Five” in high school, and if memory serves, I even enjoyed that assignment at 16. But I didn’t really appreciate the concept of becoming unstuck in time until I returned from war. Just like anyone who poured blood, sweat and tears into missions in faraway foreign lands, I left part of myself over there, and it remains there, while the rest of me goes about my business 6000 miles away — a paradox of time and space Vonnegut captured all too brilliantly.

I’ve walked by manholes in New York City streets and smelled the sludge river I walked along in north Baghdad in 2008. I’ve stopped dead in my tracks to watch a street hawker in Midtown, a large black man with a rolling laugh and a British accent, who looked just like my old scout platoon’s interpreter. And I’ve had every single slamming dumpster lid — every single damn one — rip off my fatalistic cloak and reveal me to be, still, a panicked young man desperate not to die because of an unseen I.E.D.

Despite these metaphysical dalliances with time travel the names on my black bracelet are, in fact, stuck in time. Or, more accurately, stuck in memory, where they’ll fade out and disappear like distant stars before becoming shadows of the men we served with and knew.

So it goes.

So it went for my friend Rob. During the invasion of Iraq in 2003 his unit drove through a neighborhood near Baghdad airport in doorless Humvees. A civilian vehicle pulled out in front of them, temporarily blocking their path. A group of teenage boys stood aimlessly on the street, and one exchanged nods with Rob, who sat in the front passenger seat. Rob glanced away quickly, to see if the civilian vehicle had moved yet, and then, suddenly, a grenade bounced off of the inside of the windshield and into the vehicle. Rob followed the small plume of smoke and rattling noises, grabbing the grenade from behind the radio to his left. He picked it up, intending to throw it back out of the vehicle, but it slipped out of his hand and dropped, landing between his feet. He reached back down for it, fingers just meeting casing when it exploded. He lost a hand and suffered severe nerve damage in his right leg as a result.

Back from Iraq, I carried my self-righteousness around in the form of a portable soapbox.

Recounting the story over drinks one night Rob said he wished he and the other soldiers in his Humvee hadn’t taken their eyes off of the Iraqi teens. Then he added that “luck was for sure on our side that day,” because had he not dropped the grenade but tossed it away as planned, it would’ve exploded at head level, likely killing him and possibly the Humvee’s driver, as well. He laughed deeply, and clinked his prosthetic hook against my pint glass.

Everything’s relative, I guess. Especially luck.

If chance is war’s dirty little not-so-secret, self-righteousness is the veterans’. Upon returning to American society, it’s all too easy to fall into pitfalls about what civilians get or don’t get. Nine years of war fought by an all-volunteer force that constitutes less than 1 percent of the total population has augmented this disconnect between soldier and citizen; in many ways, a separate warrior caste has evolved into being. The impact on our republic of fighting protracted, landlocked wars with an all-volunteer force can be debated. The impact of it on those actually fighting can’t be.

After returning from Iraq and separating from active duty, I carried my self-righteousness around in the form a portable soapbox for many months. Occasionally this proved necessary — sometimes the pejorative “they” really didn’t get it. There was the drunk Wall Street-type who told me, without a trace of irony but with plenty of faux-jingoist twang, “it must be awesome to kill hajjis.” And there was the too-cool-ultra-progressive who couldn’t help but smirk condescendingly while pointing out that “we” signed on the dotted line, after all, so “we” should’ve been ready for anything and everything before we departed for Iraq. Then, as passive-aggressively as possible, he analogized modern American soldiers to mercenaries.

Though I’m certainly no tough guy, the primal urge to put both of these guys’ faces through the nearest window was very real and very pointed. I didn’t do that though, for better or worse. Instead, I told the former that some of my best friends were Muslim and that such a black-and-white understanding of the war is what got us into so much trouble over there in the first place. For the latter, I nodded and smiled, telling him that for someone who hadn’t left the borough of Brooklyn in over a decade, he certainly possessed one hell of a world view.

Neither talked to me again. So it goes.

Most of the time though, my soapbox and self-righteousness and sardonic wrath were unnecessary. Not because people didn’t get it, but because I finally realized it wasn’t their fault they didn’t get it. They’re not supposed to get it — this isn’t Sparta, nor is it even post-World War II America. Sometimes — many times, actually — they wanted to get it. Slowly and surely, I found the all too obvious solution of simply answering people’s questions as considerately as I could, careful not to ascribe my experiences as universal to all of Iraq or all of Afghanistan. I’d rather ramble, I reasoned, and provide nuance and opinion than serve as the representational hollow caricature born only to sacrifice for fast food and online shopping and general postmodern excess.

Just one man’s solution to a litany of complexities, I guess.

I got unstuck in time again last month, right when winter graced the Eastern seaboard with its presence. I was getting out of the Union Square subway station, headphones in, mind tuned out, stomach craving a cheeseburger. I don’t qualify as a full-fledged New Yorker yet, but I’ve lived here long enough not to be disturbed by the sight of a cold and decrepit-looking homeless person. So, coming up the subway steps, I strolled by a young man with a scraggly yellow beard wrapped in an urban camo jacket without anything more than a passing glance. He held a cardboard sign marked in black marker with the words “IRAQ VET, HOMELESS, PLEASE HELP.” I didn’t help, nor did I give the man a second thought until two blocks later, when I cynically scolded him in my head for using the veteran title to his advantage.

Coming to terms with this permanent state of combat readiness has made me realize just how much I miss war (or parts of it).

“But what if he really is an Iraq vet?” I asked myself. I’d read the statistics — according to the Department of Veterans Affairs, more than 100,000 veterans are homeless on a given night in America; the figure is twice that over the course of the month. Not all of the unlucky ones are dead, after all. So the old platoon leader in me kicked in, and I turned back around, to see if I could verify any of this. Certainly a legitimate vet would remember names, units, places … something. And then? And then I’d help. Or I’d bring him to the people or organizations who could help. Maybe, if he seemed legit and came across as relatively stable, I could talk my fiancée into letting him sleep on the couch for a night or two. Just to get him back on his feet, of course.

He was no longer there. Or anywhere nearby. Maybe someone else had helped him. But probably not. I initially breathed out a sigh of relief, and then a sigh of shame. I thought about how these wars may be coming to some sort of end, but veterans’ issues for my generation are really just beginning. I only deployed for 15 months, and had all kinds of support systems in place upon my return. What about the men and women who have done nothing but deploy, redeploy, rinse and repeat since 9/11? What about those soldiers who return to broken homes, mountains of debt, no professional goals beyond not going to war again? What about them?

I smacked my lips and tasted guilt. Then I walked to a restaurant and ate a cheeseburger.

Like the veterans who came before and the ones who will come after, I walk the streets of New York City forever the soldier I no longer am. Oh, I’m no longer lean, hungry, or clean-cut — I’ve put on a little weight, grown my hair out and sport a patchy beard that can best be described as pirate-fashionable. But I still scan crowds for suicide vests, seek out corner vantage points like a bloodhound and value competency in a human being above all else. Jumping back into civilian life headlong, like I originally attempted, proved both disastrous and shortsighted. And coming to terms with this permanent state of combat readiness has made me realize just how much I miss war (or parts of it), and how lucky — and twisted — I am to be able to even write those words. I miss the camaraderie. I miss the raw excitement. I miss the Iraqi locals, from the kids who walked our daytime patrols with us to the frightened mothers who just wanted us to go away. I miss the soldiers, the N.C.O.’s, and even some of the officers. I miss that daily sense of purpose, survive or die, that simply can’t be replicated in everyday existence. I miss standing for something more than myself, even if I never figured out just what the hell that something was supposed to be.

I don’t miss all of it, of course. I got out of the Army for some very good reasons. Love. Sanity. Bureaucracy. A Holy Trinity for our time. But there is a messy ambiguity at the core of this that must be conveyed, if not necessarily understood.

I’m one of the lucky ones. Unstuck in time. Stuck with chance. Stuck at war. Considering the alternatives, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

“We're devastated by the loss of Chris and Gage. Their families are in our thoughts and prayers, today and always. The entire Naval Special Warfare community has our full support as they care for the Chambers and Ingram families, which is our sacred obligation for our teammates.” – Gen. Bryan Fenton and Command Sgt Maj. Shane Shorter

Press release from Naval Special Warfare Command - Navy SEAL & SWCC Teams: https://lnkd.in/g3DHPdxZ

“We're devastated by the loss of Chris and Gage. Their families are in our thoughts and prayers, today and always. The entire Naval Special Warfare community has our full support as they care for the Chambers and Ingram families, which is our sacred obligation for our teammates.” – Gen. Bryan Fenton and Command Sgt Maj. Shane Shorter

Press release from Naval Special Warfare Command - Navy SEAL & SWCC Teams: https://lnkd.in/g3DHPdxZ

The Giant Killer:

Vietnam – The Men With Green Faces
Shortly after being established in January 1962, SEAL Team ONE deployed CPO Robert Sullivan and CPO Charles Raymond to take initial surveys and make preparations for training indigenous South Vietnamese in the tactics, techniques, and procedures of maritime commandos.

During this same period, the U.S. Government agreed to increase aid to South Vietnam in the fight against Viet Cong rebels. The agreement included paying for a larger Vietnamese army as well as for more U.S. advisors in the field. The Viet Cong (properly the Viet Nam Cong San or Vietnamese Communists), was the term applied to about 10,000 troops that had been left in hideouts in South Vietnam after the Geneva Conference of 1954 ended the French Indochina War (1946–1954).

The Viet Cong, or VC, as they were commonly known, first tried subversive tactics to overthrow the South Vietnamese regime and later resorted to open warfare. They were subsequently reinforced by huge numbers of North Vietnamese troops infiltrating south.

Platoons from SEAL Team ONE and SEAL Team TWO were assigned to a specific operating area in Vietnam, and for the most part operated autonomously. Each SEAL platoon had a mobile support team (MST) boat element assigned. The MSTs were small groups of men specially trained to support SEAL operations. MSTs operated a variety of boats that included the light, medium, and heavy SEAL support craft (LSSC, MSSC, and HSSC, respectively).

By mid-1968 the SEAL Teams were fielding 12-man platoons, each comprising two squads of six men each, and most missions Vietnam were squad-sized operations. Generally four or five platoons at any given time were deployed to South Vietnam. SEAL platoons were never assigned permanently to Vietnam, but were sent on temporary duty assignments; generally for period of about six months time. Many of the men made several tours.

While the majority of SEAL operations were conducted after inserting from boats, it was in Vietnam that SEALs first began developing hit-and-run air-assault tactics using Army and Navy helicopters. Operations involved helicopters in “slick” or passenger configurations, but were also lightly armed with door guns.
SEAL platoons carried out day and night ambushes (but much preferred night operations), hit-and-run raids, reconnaissance patrols, and special intelligence collection operations. Calling them the “men with green faces” because of the face camouflage they used, the VC feared SEALs and often put bounties on their heads.

involvement in Vietnam, the relatively small group of SEALs accounted for 600 confirmed VC killed and 300 more almost certainly killed. Numerous others were captured or detained. No statistical tally can be placed on the effects of the intelligence gathered by SEALs, but there is no question that they made a contribution to the war out of all proportion to their numbers. In the psychological war, too, they were extraordinary; going some way towards evening up the unspoken balance of terror and gaining a reputation as fearsome and extraordinary warriors.

The last SEAL platoon departed Vietnam on 7 December 1971. The last SEAL advisors left Vietnam in March 1973. Between 1965 and 1972 there were 46 SEALs killed in Vietnam. They are forever remembered on the Navy SEAL Memorial at the Museum.

Note: Three U.S. Navy SEALs were recipients of the Medal of Honor during Vietnam. They were: Lieutenant Bob Kerrey, Lieutenant Tom Norris, and EM2 Mike Thornton. Mike Thornton was awarded the Medal of Honor for the rescue and exfiltration of Lieutenant Norris under withering fire on the night of 31 October 1972. There is no other recorded instance where two Medal of Honor recipients are known to have been involved in the same combat operation.

Story by Navy SEAL museum

Staff Sgt. Jeffrey Bray, a combat controller, was awarded the Silver Star Medal for his part in the Battle of Mogadishu, A.K.A. "Black Hawk Down." Bray coordinated helicopter gunship air strikes throughout the night of Oct. 3-4, developing tactics on the spot to protect his Ranger teammates, who were surrounded by Somali fighters. Unfortunately, Bray passed away this October (2016) at 49 years old. Read about his heroics here:
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While attached to an elite Army Special Operations unit conducting combat operations in support of Task Force Ranger, Bray took part in an integrated ground assault undertaken to support United Nations Operations in Somalia II. While subjecting himself to a steady stream of enemy fire, Bray provided expert surgical fire direction of overhead helicopter gunships to eliminate an enemy militia force that was threatening the friendly assault force.

In response to the downing of a U.S. UH-60 assault helicopter, Bray, while exposing himself repeatedly to enemy fire, developed an ingenious perimeter marking system and called in deadly surgical fire support against concealed enemy targets. He labored throughout the night to keep overwhelming enemy forces at bay until friendly forces could be reached by a United Nations armed relief convoy. On several occasions he expertly coordinated air support less than 15 meters from his position with no concern for his personal safety.

Bray's efforts were paramount in the limitation of casualties and the safe evacuation of all U.S. soldiers in an intense 18-hour long fire fight.

If there is anyone looking for something to do that can tackle a website makeover please drop me or MADDOX_UXO a line. We're lookin for some volunteer IT support to help improve our website.

Soldiers ON MISSION need to be connected, supported and SECURE.

FALL IN is also ON MISSION. Bring your Tribe..

Spread the word far and wide!! UXO coming in hot to the DeKalb Co. Alabama VFW Post 3128 for an Alabama Hunters Education Course. 17 Feb 2024. See attached!! Would love to have anyone or any businesses interested in supporting our giveaway of a lifetime Alabama hunting or fishing license for one lucky young man or young lady.

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!

In light of recent acts of violence on US Judges, and other clergy, Fall In will open our protected platform to them and their families. We must protect the rule of law and the courageous Americans that administer the duties that keep us safe from criminal behavior. Their personal data should NEVER be exposed to the public.

Fall In Veteran believes in the social contract agreed upon by those living under our Constitution. We will support those enforcing community accountability.

https://youtu.be/7HV3O3t9hbQ?si=ks6ddrLzN-LUG6kL

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**Joint Task Force-Patriot (JTF-P) Announcement from Fall In - Veteran (FIV) Skipper Follows**
Joint Task Force - Patriot (JTF-P) 2024 SITREP
This powerful alliance brings together strategic partners and influencers, all committed to supporting Fall In’s mission.
We are dedicated to providing Veterans and First Responders with the Community, Tools, and Leadership they need to uphold and celebrate the FREEDOM we valiantly fight for.

JTF-P Collective Commitment:
As a united front, we will support the brave leaders who fight for American safety and security. We stand firm to ensure American rights, bestowed by our creator, are upheld and honored. With a clear voice and unwavering determination, JTF-P will lead the charge.

Long Term Goal: Focused and Timely Intelligence: Building Information Resources
We aim to cut through the tangled, unfocused bureaucracy, and provide our Patriots with the unencumbered and unadulterated information supporting current and relevant issues affecting Veteran priorities. No more confusion, no more divided loyalties - just pure, focused action.

Be patient, we will arrive.

Our Goals for 2024:
1. Establish Our Community: Bring your Tribe! It's time to migrate from scattered platforms like FacePage and Insta-Goober to a secure, focused community. Let's unite!, and build your Tribe.
2. Build Veteran Support Networks: We believe in caring for our own. Let's create a robust base for community services, supporting Veteran health, service, and benefits. Together, we can make a difference, ie, Camp Brown Bear, and many others.
3. Innovate with Industry Partners: Collaboration is key. We're working with industry partners to innovate our business, social, and digital services, all focused to enhance the quality of life for our Veterans and their families.

4. Establish resources to support JTF-P leadership.

How You Can Contribute:
1. Spread the Word: Share our mission with your network. Let the world know about the Joint Task Force - Patriot and its goals.
2. Join Our Community: Whether you’re a Veteran, a first responder, or a supporter, your presence strengthens us.
3. Donate or Volunteer: Your contributions, whether time or resources, are invaluable in building a supportive environment for our heroes.
4. Collaborate and Innovate: We welcome partnerships with businesses and individuals who can offer their expertise, services, or innovation to aid our cause.

Fighting for Freedom is a "Family Business"
It's time the United States realizes that generations of the same families send their strongest and smartest sons and daughters to guarantee our borders and constitution remain intact, safe and secure. We are honored to serve, and continue as Patriots because we understand what is actually at risk.

NSDQ! & LLTB!

JOINTTASKFORCEPATRIOT_#FALLINCOMMUNITY_#VETERANSUPPORT_#RISETOGETHER

https://walkthetalkfoundation.org/news/a-call-to-boycott-the-military/

Gents,

Hyperbole like this confuses people, service members and provides NO real solutions. Veterans, DO NOT let them divide us. Yes, change must come. We are smartest- TOGETHER.

Amazing military leaders should be supported whether in uniform or civil servants. Policy of the Armed Services can be influenced by our consensus. Great capability is forged within our consensus. Our Warriors are most powerful under our consensus.

Fall In Veteran will build Veterans a megaphone loud enough for true leaders (active or retired), American values and the Warrior Ethos to resonate LOUD and CLEAR.

“In the absence of leadership, LEAD.” Turning your back is the coward’s way out of adversity.

Bring your Tribe, we have work to do.

-Skipper

NSDQ! & LLTB!

Happy birthday Johannes Kepler.

Johannes Kepler was born #OnThisDay December 27, 1571, in Weil der Stadt, Wurttemberg, in what is now Germany. His father, a mercenary soldier, left the family when Kepler was five. Historians believe his father died soon afterwards. His mother was the daughter of an innkeeper and Johannes was put to work at the inn at a young age. Despite his poverty, he was able to attend Latin School at Maulbronn and at the age of twelve, enrolled in a Protestant Seminary in Adelberg. He earned a scholarship to the Lutheran University of Tübingen in 1589. By the time he received an M.A. in theology there in 1591 he had read of the Copernican model of the universe that stated the Sun, not the Earth, was the center of the Universe. Intrigued by this view, he decided to change his major studies to mathematics and astronomy. In 1594, he left the University to become a mathematics tutor in Graz, Austria where he continued his interest in astronomy. In 1596, he wrote the first influential defense of the Copernican system, the Mysterium Cosmographicum (The Sacred Mystery of the Cosmos).

In 1600, Kepler was forced out of his teaching post at Graz due to his Lutheran faith, and moved to Prague to work for the renowned Danish astronomer, Tycho Brahe. In 1601 Tycho died, and Kepler inherited his post as Imperial Mathematician to the Hapsburg Emperor. Using the precise data that Tycho had collected, Kepler discovered that the orbit of Mars was an ellipse, the first step towards his formulation of the laws of planetary motion. In 1606, he published De Stella Nova (Concerning the New Star) on a supernova (new star) that had appeared two years before. In 1609, Kepler published his book Astronomia Nova (New Astronomy) , which contained his first two laws of planetary motion. Due to his detailed calculations and data, some credit Kepler with the creation of what is now known as the scientific method.

In 1610, Kepler learned of Galileo’s use of the newly invented telescope in astronomy, which inspired him to build his own telescope. Later that year Kepler published a confirmation of Galileo’s observations of Jupiter’s moons, the Narratio de Observatis Quatuor Jovis Satellitibus (Narration about Four Satellites of Jupiter observed) , which lent further support to the Copernican model. In 1611, Kepler published Dioptrice, the first scientific discussion of the telescope.

Kepler lost his post in 1612 as Imperial Mathematician when Lutherans were expelled from Prague. He moved to Linz, Austria but had to return often to Wurttemberg where he successfully defended his mother against charges of witchcraft. In 1619, he published Harmonices Mundi (Harmony of the Worlds) , which contained his third law of planetary motion. In spite of more personal tragedies and the religious strife of the Thirty Years War, (1618-1648) Kepler continued his research, publishing the seven-volume Epitome Astronomiae Copernicanae (Epitome of Copernican Astronomy) in 1621. This important work played a major role in the eventual acceptance of Copernicus’ theories.

In 1627, Kepler completed the Rudolphine Tables, begun by Tycho Brae the previous century. These included calculations using logarithms, which Kepler developed, and provided perpetual tables for calculating planetary positions for any past or future date, forming the most concrete proof yet for the Copernican model of the Universe. Kepler also used the tables to predict a pair of transits by Mercury and Venus of the Sun, although he did not live long enough to witness the events.

Johannes Kepler died in Regensburg, Germany on November 15, 1630. His grave there was destroyed in 1632 by the Swedish army during the Thirty Years War. In poor health most of his life, and caught up in the religious turmoil of the Reformation, Kepler’s accomplishments as an astronomer, physicist, and mathematician seem even more remarkable. His greatest feat in astronomy was his explanation of planetary motion, which has earned him the title “founder of celestial mechanics” as he was the first person to identify “natural laws” in the modern sense. He was the first to prove that the ocean’s tides are due to the Moon’s gravity and pioneered the use of stellar parallax caused by the Earth’s orbit to measure the distance to the stars. Kepler was also the first to suggest that the Sun rotates about its axis, and coined the word “satellite.”

Kepler’s book Astronomia Pars Optica (the Optical Part of Astronomy) has earned him the title “founder of modern optics,” while his work Stereometria Doliorum Vianiaorum (The Stereometry of Wine Barrels) forms the basis of integral calculus. A devout Lutheran, he derived the birth year of Christ that is now universally accepted, and was the first to derive logarithms purely based on mathematics. Johannes Kepler’s most influential accomplishments in astronomy were his three Laws of Planetary Motion, which were used by Isaac Newton to develop his theory of universal gravitation:

-Kepler’s First Law: The planets move in elliptical orbits with the sun at a focus.
-Kepler’s Second Law: In their orbits around the sun, the planets sweep out equal areas in equal times.
-Kepler’s Third Law: The squares of the times to complete one orbit are proportional to the cubes of the average distances from the sun.

Source:new Mexico museum of space history

Unique Mission, Great Men, Humbled to support the warfighter.

Uniformed Support.

Merry Christmas to all my beloved family and friends!

As we gather around the Christmas tree, exchanging gifts and sharing laughter, I want to take a moment to express my heartfelt wishes to each and every one of you. This special time of year brings us closer together, reminding us of the love and joy we share as a family and as friends.

To my family, thank you for being my rock, my support system, and my source of endless love. Your presence in my life is the greatest gift I could ever ask for. May this Christmas be filled with warmth, happiness, and cherished moments that we will treasure forever.

To my friends, you are the family I chose, and I am grateful for the incredible bond we share. Through thick and thin, you have stood by my side, bringing laughter, adventure, and unforgettable memories into my life. May this Christmas season bring you peace, love, and an abundance of joy.

As we gather around the table, savoring delicious food and enjoying each other's company, let's remember the true reason for this season. It's not just about the presents or the decorations; it's about celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ and the message of love, hope, and forgiveness that He brought to the world.

May this Christmas fill your hearts with love, your homes with warmth, and your lives with endless blessings. May the joy and magic of this season be with you today and throughout the coming year.

Merry Christmas, my dear family and friends! I am truly blessed to have you in my life.

New Users,

Welcome to Fall In Veteran, a community dedicated to serving those who have served. We're excited to have you join us and become a part of our growing tribe. Our platform is constantly evolving, and we are thrilled to announce that new feature developments are on the horizon.

Exciting Upcoming Features:
- Big Al’s Ready Room (TA50 & Stuff): A space where you can access a wide range of military gear and essentials, tailored to meet your needs. And, also start your own Veteran brand awareness among our community in Big Al’s Ready Room (launch scheduled for mid-Jan).
- Pro-packages for Brand Affiliates (future corporate partners): We're partnering with brands to offer exclusive discounts and benefits, available to groups, or all veterans, on our platform.

Staying on Mission:
At Fall In Veteran, we deeply appreciate your service and are committed to fostering a supportive and dynamic community. We believe in the power of collaboration and invite you to contribute to our developmental growth. Your suggestions and feedback are invaluable, and will be the driving force in shaping platform developments and priorities.

Empowering Our Community:
- Developers Tab: For those with technical skills, we encourage you to get involved by writing your own apps within our platform. Your contributions can make a significant impact.
- Joint Task Force - Patriot: Participate in initiatives that amplify our collective voice and influence as we strive to make a difference in America. JTF-P will be led by Unit Associations and large groups of military members that are ready to execute on Fall In Veteran Initiatives as a collective, synchronized voice.

Our primary goal at Fall In Veteran is to protect your data and build solutions that empower our community. We stand together, helping each other as we continue to serve one another, support our business and organize a voice at the national level.

Your journey with Fall In Veteran is just beginning, and we look forward to seeing how you will contribute to and benefit from our community.


Sincerely,
The Fall In Veteran Team
NSDQ! & LLTB!

Last weekend’s event at Camp Brown Bear brought us more than just unforgettable memories – it sparked a wonderful initiative!

In a special collaboration with Fall In, we are thrilled to announce that J. Mattingly Distillery will launch a Limited Edition Custom Bourbon Bottle to honor the legacy of the Seal/Night Stalkers brotherhood.

This exclusive bottle isn’t just a collector’s item; it’s a beacon of hope and support. Every purchase will directly contribute to the construction of a new workshop at Camp Brown Bear. This workshop is dedicated to serving our brave veterans, aiding in their journey of healing and resilience.

Stay tuned for more details on how you can get your hands on this one-of-a-kind bottle!

NSDQ! & LLTB!

#CampBrownBear #FallIn #HonoringHeroes #BourbonForACause #VeteranSupport

Congratulations to Al Nixon, A.K.A., Big Al, for appointment as the Fall In First Sergeant.

Big Al,

Thanks for all you’ve done to bring Fall In into reality. We would not be this far without your vision and your voice for Veteran’s Affairs. Your heart for Joe leads every conversation, and your voice keeps us centered on providing solutions that will unite, inspire and heal our Tribe.

Thank You!, Sergeant Night Stalker. Fall In is blessed to have you as a champion, and our voice for those needing to be heard, healed and supported.

Sincerely,

The Fall In Team

Army Emergency Relief | Dec. 12, 2023

Soldiers and Army Families impacted by the tornado that struck in the Clarksville, Tennessee, area are encouraged to contact Fort Campbell’s Army Emergency Relief office for financial assistance. AER officers are located at 5662 Screaming Eagle Blvd. and can be reached at (270) 798-5518.

Financial hardships faced by those affected by natural disasters can be devastating. As the U.S. Army’s official nonprofit, AER provides grants, loans or a combination of both to cover costs for basic essential needs like temporary lodging, food and fuel.

Those eligible for AER disaster assistance are:

Soldiers on active duty and their eligible Family members
Soldiers retired from active duty because of longevity and their eligible Family members
Retired Army Reserve and National Guard Soldiers receiving retired pay and their Family members
Medically retired Soldiers and their dependents, including both those placed on the Permanent Disability Retired List (PDRL) or Temporary Disability Retirement List (TDRL)
Surviving spouses and children of Soldiers who died while on active duty (including those on Title 10 Orders) or in an eligible retired status
Members of the Reserve Component of the Army (National Guard and Army Reserve under Title 10 U.S.C) on continuous Active Duty for more than 30 consecutive days and their eligible Family members
Title 10, Title 32 and TPU Army National Guard and Army Reserve Soldiers NOT mobilized, or are mobilized for LESS THAN 30 consecutive days and those activated in support of tornado relief efforts.
Assistance may be provided up to $600 as a grant for all those listed above. For active duty Soldiers, commanders should be the individuals who validate need by signing AER Form 101 prior to Soldiers requesting assistance. Any amount above $600 may be considered as a loan, grant or a combination.

Proud of Fall In and their leaders. -Building technology ready to support the Post 9/11 Veteran Tribe, their health, wellness and business needs.

Today marks a significant moment for FALL IN as a community. Let's remember the power of unity and collaboration. NEW features are launching everyday, and Big Al’s Ready Room will be released within the month. Let's harness this potential, work together, and make a lasting impact. This solution will provide a major leap for military and Veteran businesses establishing streamlined support processes, and 21st Century Lean Logistics.

#UnityInStrength #TogetherWeSolve #MilitaryCommunity

Do you have a heart to help veterans? But can’t find the platform, the time, or 21st century tools?

Become a veteran force multiplier. Fall In is here to help.

Support your friends, organize your tribe, or mentor veteran businesses.

Joint Task Force Patriot is the Post 9/11 movement. Learn, Lead, Live our Legacy to build a post-war community that drives American values by, with and through Veteran organization and execution.

Boots to Business to Brotherhood. We are the spirit, the protectors and the future of this shining city on a hill.

Fall In!

Exciting Weekend Alert for Night Stalkers and SOF members!

Mark Your Calendars: December 15-17

Fall In Veteran is thrilled to announce a special weekend getaway for the courageous members of the 160th Night Stalkers and our esteemed guests from Seal Team 6, Seal Team 2, Seal Team 8, retired heroes from Miami Dade County Fire Department, New York Police, and more!

It’s time to relax, connect, and build our community. Let’s share stories, experiences, and strengthen our bonds.

Highlight of the Weekend: Steve Brown from Seal Team 6 will present Veteran Support Camp Brown Bear and an exclusive tasting of Kentucky’s finest, including Bourbon 30!

Join us in this unique opportunity to unwind and mingle with fellow veterans and special ops brothers. Let’s make memories and support each other!

Spread the word and let’s make this event a milestone in our journey of camaraderie and support!

#VeteranGathering #NightStalkers #SealTeams #CommunityBuilding #FallInVeteran #VeteranSupport #BourbonTasting #MilitaryCamaraderie

https://www.campbrownbearusa.org/

Seals and/or Night Stalkers- Join Fall In for an Unforgettable Veterans Retreat at Camp Brown Bear!

At Fall In, we’re all about honoring and supporting our veterans, and this retreat is a special opportunity to do just that. Camp Brown Bear, a serene and healing place founded by retired Seal Team 6 member Steve Brown, is the perfect backdrop for our upcoming event.

About Camp Brown Bear:
Nestled in the heart of nature, Camp Brown Bear offers a tranquil escape for veterans seeking relaxation, camaraderie, and healing. With Steve Brown at the helm, you’ll be in the company of a true hero and a dedicated founder who understands the needs of our veterans.

Retreat Details:
Join us from December 15th to 17th, 2023, for an incredible experience like no other. Relax alongside Night Stalkers and Seals, share stories, and create lasting memories in this picturesque setting.

Bourbon 30 Showcase:
Camp Brown Bear will also be showcasing Bourbon 30, a custom blend of Kentucky’s finest bourbon. Savor the flavors and indulge in the rich history of this exceptional spirit.

Contact Us:
Seats for this exclusive retreat are limited, so don’t miss out! To reserve your spot and be part of this extraordinary event, contact us at skipper@fall-in-veteran.com.

Join us at Camp Brown Bear for an unforgettable experience of camaraderie, healing, and relaxation. It’s a retreat like no other, and we can’t wait to welcome you! #CampBrownBearRetreat #VeteransSupport #FallInForVeterans

Big Al’s Ready Room. PRODUCT FEATURE - COMING SOON.

Opportunity for On-line sellers. Non-profit partners and consumers to take advantage of their community’s high demand items.

We’re thrilled to announce a game-changing partnership with Big’s Al’s Virtual Store that will revolutionize how veteran-owned businesses operate on our platform.

Big’s Al’s Virtual Store Integration:
Get ready for an enhanced experience as we integrate Big’s Al’s Virtual Store into Fall In! This integration will empower veteran-owned businesses with advanced logistics capabilities and a scalable model for success.

Free ERP Solutions for Veterans:
As part of our commitment to supporting veterans, we’re offering ERP solutions completely FREE for veteran entrepreneurs on Fall In. This powerful tool will help streamline their operations and drive growth.

Partners Discount:
Our partners will enjoy exclusive discounts on ERP solutions, making it even easier to collaborate with veteran-owned businesses.

Giving Back:
We believe in giving back to our veteran community. That’s why a portion of the proceeds from our affiliates will be donated to Veteran Non-Profits, helping those who have served our country.

COMING SOON:
Get ready for the future of veteran business logistics on Fall In! The integration is on the horizon, and we can’t wait to share more details with you.

Stay tuned for more information, as we’re gearing up for an incredible journey of empowerment and support for our veterans. Together, we’ll make a difference. #FallInForVeterans #ComingSoon

Tribe,

If you know of Veteran businesses that need support. Post them Up!

Let’s put them on blast and support our Brothers and Sisters within a Veteran-based, Veteran-referred community.

Refer them to me and we’ll work to establish their footprint in our community.

Send them to me @
https://calendly.com/skipper-at-fall-in-zhc

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/clint-underwood1_lesson-learned-from-seal-team-member-to-special-activity-7132037796914958336-VsM3?utm_source=share&utm_medium=member_ios

Great article by a Team Member and Supporter.

NSDQ! & LLTB!

Good Saturday Everyone, just wanted to share this today :

Life is a journey filled with ups and downs, but it's how we navigate through the challenges that truly defines us. Today, I want to remind you that you possess an incredible strength within you – a strength that can move mountains and conquer any obstacle that comes your way.

Remember, success is not measured by the absence of failure, but by the courage to rise every time we fall. So, don't be afraid to take risks, to dream big, and to chase after your passions. Believe in yourself and your abilities, for you are capable of achieving greatness.

In the words of the legendary Maya Angelou, "You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it."

So, let go of self-doubt and embrace the limitless possibilities that lie ahead. Surround yourself with positive energy, inspiring individuals, and never forget to be your own biggest cheerleader. Remember, you are capable of achieving anything you set your mind to!

Today, I challenge you to take that first step towards your dreams. Whether it's starting a new project, pursuing a new hobby, or simply taking care of your well-being, know that every small step counts. And as you embark on this journey, always remember that you have a community of supporters cheering you on.

Let's make this day count, my friends! Together, let's inspire, uplift, and empower one another to reach for the stars. "

#Inspiration #Motivation #BelieveInYourself #DreamBig #RiseAbove #YouAreCapable #NeverGiveUp #Community #Support #MakeItCount

https://youtu.be/NYrJZDzXytI?si=LtcJcri7E0x3Sj5K
RLTW! So proud to have supported these men. Heavy day for the 160th SOAR Team. We could not do what we do w/o those men. Remember our Brothers.

The good senator Tommy Tuberville from the state fo Alabama has literally halted all military promotions over the new abortion law. Do you support his thought process or disagree with his tactics?