• As the number of Vietnam and World War II veterans continues to decline, we are faced with a poignant reminder of the invaluable sacrifices they made to protect our freedoms. This decline highlights the urgency of our commitment to preserve their stories and honor their contributions. Going forward, our primary focus will be to ensure that their legacy remains an integral part of our national consciousness. We pledge to uphold their memory and provide the recognition and care these heroes so richly deserve. Our dedication to this mission is unwavering, and we are committed to keeping their spirit alive for future generations. Please help us by ensuring that we integrate as many of these Veterans and their family members as possible into the platform.






    As the number of Vietnam and World War II veterans continues to decline, we are faced with a poignant reminder of the invaluable sacrifices they made to protect our freedoms. This decline highlights the urgency of our commitment to preserve their stories and honor their contributions. Going forward, our primary focus will be to ensure that their legacy remains an integral part of our national consciousness. We pledge to uphold their memory and provide the recognition and care these heroes so richly deserve. Our dedication to this mission is unwavering, and we are committed to keeping their spirit alive for future generations. Please help us by ensuring that we integrate as many of these Veterans and their family members as possible into the platform.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 18313 Views
  • U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command
    · 01 August, 2022

    Today is Gold Star Children’s Day!

    Passed by Congress last year, it serves to honor the sacrifice and hardship of our #GoldStarChildren.

    Never forget the fallen men and women of the United States Armed Forces and the children that carry on!

    #GoldStarChildrensDay #NSDQ
    U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command · 01 August, 2022 Today is Gold Star Children’s Day! Passed by Congress last year, it serves to honor the sacrifice and hardship of our #GoldStarChildren. Never forget the fallen men and women of the United States Armed Forces and the children that carry on! #GoldStarChildrensDay #NSDQ
    Salute
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 17395 Views
  • “Liberty Girl (Rosie to the Rescue)” by Norman Rockwell (1943)

    Norman Rockwell hired a professional model for the Post cover Liberty Girl (Rosie to the Rescue), honoring the mythical embodiment of all the new roles that now belonged to the American woman during wartime.

    As a symbol of the ability of Americans to mobilize and transform themselves during the war effort, Rockwell might have chosen a more idealized or classic portrayal, just as he based Rosie the Riveter on a classic Michelangelo painting, but he chose to paint her as a girl-next-door, accentuating her authenticity.
    “Liberty Girl (Rosie to the Rescue)” by Norman Rockwell (1943) Norman Rockwell hired a professional model for the Post cover Liberty Girl (Rosie to the Rescue), honoring the mythical embodiment of all the new roles that now belonged to the American woman during wartime. As a symbol of the ability of Americans to mobilize and transform themselves during the war effort, Rockwell might have chosen a more idealized or classic portrayal, just as he based Rosie the Riveter on a classic Michelangelo painting, but he chose to paint her as a girl-next-door, accentuating her authenticity.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 13057 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    ·
    A hero speaks for the world...when he is gone...the world will speak for him

    ~Operation Red Wings Memorial Month~
    via: SEAL Of Honor · A hero speaks for the world...when he is gone...the world will speak for him ~Operation Red Wings Memorial Month~
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 7450 Views
  • We just got the information for this “Mission Request “ at 0300 we are putting this out to get a feeler for who all can join us and see if we can make it happen. We realize it’s a midweek ,workday , not much notice , but are hoping we can get those who can make it to join .

    The main time of importance is the Fuel Plaza at 0900 in Pleasant View. If we have enough people that can join we will pick a meet spot to depart from Clarksville to arrive as a group. More to follow on that .

    Weds Jun 26 2024——Target times—-

    Meeting with Alaska Airlines Honor Cart Escort

    Horizon Fuel Plaza
    2601 Hwy 49 W Pleasant View Tn 0900

    Conduct Safety Brief /
    Depart from Fuel Plaza 0930

    Arrive for Ceremony 0954
    Nashville National Cemetery in Madison Tn

    After Ceremony we will await call from Alaska Airlines to depart for Airport for
    Mission Completion
    We just got the information for this “Mission Request “ at 0300 we are putting this out to get a feeler for who all can join us and see if we can make it happen. We realize it’s a midweek ,workday , not much notice , but are hoping we can get those who can make it to join . The main time of importance is the Fuel Plaza at 0900 in Pleasant View. If we have enough people that can join we will pick a meet spot to depart from Clarksville to arrive as a group. More to follow on that . Weds Jun 26 2024——Target times—- Meeting with Alaska Airlines Honor Cart Escort Horizon Fuel Plaza 2601 Hwy 49 W Pleasant View Tn 0900 Conduct Safety Brief / Depart from Fuel Plaza 0930 Arrive for Ceremony 0954 Nashville National Cemetery in Madison Tn After Ceremony we will await call from Alaska Airlines to depart for Airport for Mission Completion
    Like
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 9558 Views
  • The fight remains. You are a “citizen” soldier.

    Today we have 44 X 4 Star Generals (1.2M in the force), In WWII there were 7 X 4 Star Generals (21M in the force).

    It is time to unite. Our legacy is on the chopping block. America needs to understand what it means to stand in the gap to protect the honor of the country, force, unit and our brothers.

    We are retired not separated. We have a duty as citizens to continue to fight the good fight.

    #jointtaskforcepatriot
    The fight remains. You are a “citizen” soldier. Today we have 44 X 4 Star Generals (1.2M in the force), In WWII there were 7 X 4 Star Generals (21M in the force). It is time to unite. Our legacy is on the chopping block. America needs to understand what it means to stand in the gap to protect the honor of the country, force, unit and our brothers. We are retired not separated. We have a duty as citizens to continue to fight the good fight. #jointtaskforcepatriot
    Love
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 18474 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    ·
    A dog tag found in the wreckage of a helicopter shot down during Operation Red Wings, where 8 Army Night Stalkers and 11 Navy SEALs died on June 28, 2005

    I will always place the mission first.
    I will never accept defeat.
    I will never quit.
    I will never leave a fallen comrade

    https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10150974016904769&set=a.360794549768
    via: SEAL Of Honor · A dog tag found in the wreckage of a helicopter shot down during Operation Red Wings, where 8 Army Night Stalkers and 11 Navy SEALs died on June 28, 2005 I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10150974016904769&set=a.360794549768
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 19445 Views
  • What an honor to spend the afternoon with such a GREAT America.

    Long Live LT Dan!
    What an honor to spend the afternoon with such a GREAT America. Long Live LT Dan!
    Love
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 8387 Views
  • $1 - $1 / Year
    Konum (Adres)
    Remote
    Tür
    Volunteer
    Status
    Closed
    Summary:
    The NBLC seeks dedicated leaders to join its National Board, shaping the strategic direction, governance, and success of the organization.
    Responsibilities:
    Set and oversee strategic direction.
    Develop and implement governance policies.
    Engage in financial oversight.
    Contribute to marketing and communication strategies.
    Attend and participate in at least four annual Board meetings.
    Serve on committees and engage in decision-making.
    Foster stakeholder relationships.
    Honor former Board members' contributions.
    Qualifications:
    NBCL status preferred.
    Leadership experience in various industries.
    Strong governance, financial, and communication skills.
    Commitment to NBLC's mission and vision.
    Application:
    Submit resume and cover letter to info@nationalboardofleaders.org. NBLC is an equal opportunity organization. Join us in shaping the future of leadership certification!
    Summary: The NBLC seeks dedicated leaders to join its National Board, shaping the strategic direction, governance, and success of the organization. Responsibilities: Set and oversee strategic direction. Develop and implement governance policies. Engage in financial oversight. Contribute to marketing and communication strategies. Attend and participate in at least four annual Board meetings. Serve on committees and engage in decision-making. Foster stakeholder relationships. Honor former Board members' contributions. Qualifications: NBCL status preferred. Leadership experience in various industries. Strong governance, financial, and communication skills. Commitment to NBLC's mission and vision. Application: Submit resume and cover letter to info@nationalboardofleaders.org. NBLC is an equal opportunity organization. Join us in shaping the future of leadership certification!
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 10937 Views
  • To the 104 who have gave all :

    We gather with a heavy heart and deep gratitude to honor each and every one of you. Your names forever etched on the Nightstalker Memorial wall signify the sacrifices you made, the lives you led, and the profound impact you had on our nation and its defenders.

    You were warriors, brave and unrelenting , who embodied the spirit of the Nightstalkers. Your commitment to duty and unwavering dedication to protecting our freedoms are a testament to your character and courage. Each name represents a life that was lived with purpose, a life that touched others, and a life that will never be forgotten.

    We remember the names on this sacred wall, not as mere inscriptions, but as a powerful reminder of the tremendous sacrifice made by you and your families. We are forever indebted to you for your selflessness, your service, and the ultimate price you paid.

    As we stand before this memorial, we pledge to honor your memory and carry your legacy forward. We will ensure that your stories are told, your bravery celebrated, and your names spoken with reverence and gratitude. Your sacrifice will forever be etched in our hearts, inspiring us to live with the same dedication, courage, and honor that you exemplified.

    Thank you,, for your unwavering service, unyielding bravery, and the extraordinary sacrifices you made. Your names will forever be engraved in our hearts and in the annals of history.
    NSDQ NSDF
    To the 104 who have gave all : We gather with a heavy heart and deep gratitude to honor each and every one of you. Your names forever etched on the Nightstalker Memorial wall signify the sacrifices you made, the lives you led, and the profound impact you had on our nation and its defenders. You were warriors, brave and unrelenting , who embodied the spirit of the Nightstalkers. Your commitment to duty and unwavering dedication to protecting our freedoms are a testament to your character and courage. Each name represents a life that was lived with purpose, a life that touched others, and a life that will never be forgotten. We remember the names on this sacred wall, not as mere inscriptions, but as a powerful reminder of the tremendous sacrifice made by you and your families. We are forever indebted to you for your selflessness, your service, and the ultimate price you paid. As we stand before this memorial, we pledge to honor your memory and carry your legacy forward. We will ensure that your stories are told, your bravery celebrated, and your names spoken with reverence and gratitude. Your sacrifice will forever be etched in our hearts, inspiring us to live with the same dedication, courage, and honor that you exemplified. Thank you,, for your unwavering service, unyielding bravery, and the extraordinary sacrifices you made. Your names will forever be engraved in our hearts and in the annals of history. NSDQ NSDF
    Salute
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 29808 Views 1
  • 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!
    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!
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 27147 Views
  • Honor life and service.
    Honor life and service.
    Remember the Fallen, and Honor their sacrifice...
    But remember the good times too...
    https://www.facebook.com/mbest11x/videos/1078166698993663/?hc_ref=ARQMYqAttSF7DSW4yYcKlf4Qi1r7oeUmOYm4npxbORDZjtdInD3O9ueceGsfEpIlBOc
    Never Forget! - Never Quit!
    NSDQ!
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4673 Views
  • The symbolism of "The Missing Man Table": a place of honor in memory of fallen, missing, or imprisoned military service members.

    A flag sits on the table:
    -- America will not forget those who gave us freedom.

    A single red rose:
    -- The blood that many have shed in sacrifice for our country's freedom.

    The red and yellow ribbons:
    -- Our continued uncertainty, hope for their return, and determination to account for them.

    The candle is lit:
    -- The light of hope which lives in our hearts to illuminate their way home, away from their captors, to the open arms of a grateful nation.

    A pinch of salt:
    -- For the tears shed by the friends and families of the missing and fallen.

    A glass is inverted:
    -- Their inability to share a toast.

    A sliced lemon:
    -- The memory of the bitter loss of those who will never return.

    The silverware shines bright:
    -- A service member gone to serve his or her country.

    The napkin is black:
    -- The emptiness the warriors have left in the hearts of their families and friends.

    The table is round:
    -- Our everlasting concern for our service members who are no longer here.

    The tablecloth is white:
    -- The purity of their motives when answering the call to serve.

    The chair is empty:
    -- The seat that remains unclaimed at the table.

    Remembering those who paid the ultimate sacrifice.

    #DefendWhatMatters #memorialday
    The symbolism of "The Missing Man Table": a place of honor in memory of fallen, missing, or imprisoned military service members. A flag sits on the table: -- America will not forget those who gave us freedom. A single red rose: -- The blood that many have shed in sacrifice for our country's freedom. The red and yellow ribbons: -- Our continued uncertainty, hope for their return, and determination to account for them. The candle is lit: -- The light of hope which lives in our hearts to illuminate their way home, away from their captors, to the open arms of a grateful nation. A pinch of salt: -- For the tears shed by the friends and families of the missing and fallen. A glass is inverted: -- Their inability to share a toast. A sliced lemon: -- The memory of the bitter loss of those who will never return. The silverware shines bright: -- A service member gone to serve his or her country. The napkin is black: -- The emptiness the warriors have left in the hearts of their families and friends. The table is round: -- Our everlasting concern for our service members who are no longer here. The tablecloth is white: -- The purity of their motives when answering the call to serve. The chair is empty: -- The seat that remains unclaimed at the table. Remembering those who paid the ultimate sacrifice. #DefendWhatMatters #memorialday
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 23216 Views
  • Remember the Fallen, and Honor their sacrifice...
    But remember the good times too...
    https://www.facebook.com/mbest11x/videos/1078166698993663/?hc_ref=ARQMYqAttSF7DSW4yYcKlf4Qi1r7oeUmOYm4npxbORDZjtdInD3O9ueceGsfEpIlBOc
    Never Forget! - Never Quit!
    NSDQ!
    Remember the Fallen, and Honor their sacrifice... But remember the good times too... https://www.facebook.com/mbest11x/videos/1078166698993663/?hc_ref=ARQMYqAttSF7DSW4yYcKlf4Qi1r7oeUmOYm4npxbORDZjtdInD3O9ueceGsfEpIlBOc Never Forget! - Never Quit! NSDQ!
    0 Yorumlar 1 hisse senetleri 19565 Views
  • From every corner of the globe, they have been standing guard so that you may sleep in peace.
    ~ Honor Them
    From every corner of the globe, they have been standing guard so that you may sleep in peace. ~ Honor Them
    Wow
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3280 Views
  • Starting on Monday, May 13, 2024, all active duty service members and veterans can enjoy a Free Sandwich on their designated day.

    These brave men and women have fought for our freedom, and we are proud to honor them.

    Please join us in this week long celebration.
    https://mission-bbq.com/armed-forces-week/
    Starting on Monday, May 13, 2024, all active duty service members and veterans can enjoy a Free Sandwich on their designated day. These brave men and women have fought for our freedom, and we are proud to honor them. Please join us in this week long celebration. https://mission-bbq.com/armed-forces-week/
    MISSION-BBQ.COM
    Armed Forces Week - MISSION BBQ
    Armed Forces Week It is more than one day of honor. It’s an entire week! Join us as we celebrate a week of Military Appreciation Days – May 13 through May 17, 2024 – for each branch of the Armed Forces followed by a special lunch on Armed Forces Day on May 18, 2024. Starting […]
    Like
    1
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 12574 Views
  • 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.
    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.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 53496 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    ·
    Men and women will go into combat for a cause, but will die for each other
    via: SEAL Of Honor · Men and women will go into combat for a cause, but will die for each other
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3061 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    ·
    You will be measured not by what you have but how much of yourself you are willing to give … Two is One and One is None

    https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10150754711134769&set=a.360794549768
    via: SEAL Of Honor · You will be measured not by what you have but how much of yourself you are willing to give … Two is One and One is None https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10150754711134769&set=a.360794549768
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 7317 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    ·
    If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my children may have peace.
    via: SEAL Of Honor · If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my children may have peace.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2698 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    ·
    Firefighters are indispensable foot soldiers here at home.
    via: SEAL Of Honor · Firefighters are indispensable foot soldiers here at home.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3273 Views

  • Honor Them
    ·
    As of 04/12/12: Number of Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom & Operation New Dawn casualties as confirmed by US Central Command: 6389

    Never Forget! - Never Quit!
    NSDQ!
    Honor Them · As of 04/12/12: Number of Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom & Operation New Dawn casualties as confirmed by US Central Command: 6389 Never Forget! - Never Quit! NSDQ!
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 11881 Views
  • Our Loss:
    - By Bruce Irvine

    They came when they were called,
    They asked for little and received less.
    They fought for honor and truth,
    In a world in which there was precious little.

    We have been made better for their sacrifice
    And yet we are poorer by their passing.
    Ultimately in spite of their lost lives,
    We must recognize that the greatest loss lies with us;

    For we have been stripped of their lives and their gifts.
    Of all the children they will never father,
    - of the students, they will never tutor,
    - of the truth, they will never uncover,
    - of the dreams, they had that no mortal will ever know,
    - of the best of humanity that they can never again be.

    We cannot remember them as well as we should,
    We will never remember them as well as we do now.
    Alas, we barely knew them at all.

    But they died in our stead,
    And if there is one thing we should know,
    one thing we must take from this desolate moment;
    it is that they could have been us, and they must be us.
    We must LIVE for them.

    We must try to achieve the promise that was embodied in their lives, before they were so nobly cast aside for our sake. This is the only way we can shoulder this otherwise unbearable debt.

    By their Selfless Sacrifice, they have shown that this is how they would have had it, had they by some accident of fate been left as the living and not we.

    Rest In Peace, Dear Brothers of Task Force Ranger.
    We Remember...
    NSDQ! - RLTW! - DOL! - TOML!
    Our Loss: - By Bruce Irvine They came when they were called, They asked for little and received less. They fought for honor and truth, In a world in which there was precious little. We have been made better for their sacrifice And yet we are poorer by their passing. Ultimately in spite of their lost lives, We must recognize that the greatest loss lies with us; For we have been stripped of their lives and their gifts. Of all the children they will never father, - of the students, they will never tutor, - of the truth, they will never uncover, - of the dreams, they had that no mortal will ever know, - of the best of humanity that they can never again be. We cannot remember them as well as we should, We will never remember them as well as we do now. Alas, we barely knew them at all. But they died in our stead, And if there is one thing we should know, one thing we must take from this desolate moment; it is that they could have been us, and they must be us. We must LIVE for them. We must try to achieve the promise that was embodied in their lives, before they were so nobly cast aside for our sake. This is the only way we can shoulder this otherwise unbearable debt. By their Selfless Sacrifice, they have shown that this is how they would have had it, had they by some accident of fate been left as the living and not we. Rest In Peace, Dear Brothers of Task Force Ranger. We Remember... NSDQ! - RLTW! - DOL! - TOML!
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 15843 Views
  • via: The Giant Killer
    ·
    U.S. Army Ranger Captain Kris Kristofferson:

    Country music legend and Army vet Kris Kristofferson has a list of accomplishments so long, it might be faster to list off things he hasn't done.

    He was an Army brat and brother to a naval aviator, so it was only natural that Kristofferson would find himself in the military. But his life both before and after the military has been more than interesting -- it's downright legendary.

    In his younger years, Kristofferson was an accomplished athlete, skilled at rugby and American football. He also was a Golden Gloves amateur boxer. Pretty much anything that required giving or taking a beating, he was up to it.

    For anyone who might be thinking he was a dumb young jock-turned country star, think again. Kristofferson studied literature at California's Pomona College, where he became a Rhodes Scholar. He carried on his literature studies at Oxford's Merton College, where he continued boxing. Upon graduating from college, he joined the U.S. Army.

    Joining the Army in 1960, Kristofferson earned his Ranger tab before becoming a helicopter pilot, which was critical in getting his country music career off the ground (more on that later). He would reach the rank of captain during his service. In the meantime, he was making music and formed his own band while stationed in Germany.

    Kristofferson was offered the prestigious position of teaching literature at West Point in 1965, but turned it down and left the Army. It was a move that caused his family, full of veterans, to disown him. His first wife divorced him four years later, which is some prime country music songwriting fodder.

    It was finally time for Kristofferson to focus on music. He moved to Nashville, where he worked as a janitor and flew helicopters for oil rigs. He also worked in construction and fought forest fires in Alaska, anything he could do to keep focused on the music. It also was good experience from which to draw country music inspiration.

    As he turned 30 years old, he was still moonlighting as a janitor in Nashville recording studios, strategically dropping demo tapes onto desks and hoping they would get into the hands of some of the biggest names in country music. ... also at Johnny Cash's house.

    By now, we know Kristofferson learned to fly helicopters in the Army and ran into financial trouble while trying to make it in country music. In a big gamble, he stole a helicopter, flew to Cash's house and landed on the Man in Black's front lawn.

    In retrospect, Kristofferson admits he's lucky Cash didn't try to shoot him down with a shotgun. Instead, the icon listened to his demo for "Sunday Morning Coming Down." Cash liked it so much, he recorded it, and Kristofferson took the first step toward becoming a country music legend.
    Now "lifted from obscurity" (as Kristofferson puts it), he wrote some of his biggest hits, including "Vietnam Blues," "Help Me Make It Through the Night" and "Me and Bobby McGee." Later, he would form The Highwaymen, a country music supergroup comprised of himself, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash.

    There are few country music stars that Kristofferson hasn't worked with or influenced during his career, even to this day. His music fame led him to the silver screen, where he appeared in 119 roles, including the "Blade" trilogy, the third remake of "A Star Is Born" and the History Channel miniseries "Texas Rising."

    Kristofferson was inducted into the songwriter's Hall of Fame in 1985 and has earned more than 48 different BMI Country and Pop awards. In 2004, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame and received the Veteran of the Year Award at the American Veteran Awards in 2011, with fellow country legend and vet Willie Nelson presenting the honor.

    #usarmy #Militarylife #kriskristofferson #countrymusic #Army #Military
    via: The Giant Killer · U.S. Army Ranger Captain Kris Kristofferson: Country music legend and Army vet Kris Kristofferson has a list of accomplishments so long, it might be faster to list off things he hasn't done. He was an Army brat and brother to a naval aviator, so it was only natural that Kristofferson would find himself in the military. But his life both before and after the military has been more than interesting -- it's downright legendary. In his younger years, Kristofferson was an accomplished athlete, skilled at rugby and American football. He also was a Golden Gloves amateur boxer. Pretty much anything that required giving or taking a beating, he was up to it. For anyone who might be thinking he was a dumb young jock-turned country star, think again. Kristofferson studied literature at California's Pomona College, where he became a Rhodes Scholar. He carried on his literature studies at Oxford's Merton College, where he continued boxing. Upon graduating from college, he joined the U.S. Army. Joining the Army in 1960, Kristofferson earned his Ranger tab before becoming a helicopter pilot, which was critical in getting his country music career off the ground (more on that later). He would reach the rank of captain during his service. In the meantime, he was making music and formed his own band while stationed in Germany. Kristofferson was offered the prestigious position of teaching literature at West Point in 1965, but turned it down and left the Army. It was a move that caused his family, full of veterans, to disown him. His first wife divorced him four years later, which is some prime country music songwriting fodder. It was finally time for Kristofferson to focus on music. He moved to Nashville, where he worked as a janitor and flew helicopters for oil rigs. He also worked in construction and fought forest fires in Alaska, anything he could do to keep focused on the music. It also was good experience from which to draw country music inspiration. As he turned 30 years old, he was still moonlighting as a janitor in Nashville recording studios, strategically dropping demo tapes onto desks and hoping they would get into the hands of some of the biggest names in country music. ... also at Johnny Cash's house. By now, we know Kristofferson learned to fly helicopters in the Army and ran into financial trouble while trying to make it in country music. In a big gamble, he stole a helicopter, flew to Cash's house and landed on the Man in Black's front lawn. In retrospect, Kristofferson admits he's lucky Cash didn't try to shoot him down with a shotgun. Instead, the icon listened to his demo for "Sunday Morning Coming Down." Cash liked it so much, he recorded it, and Kristofferson took the first step toward becoming a country music legend. Now "lifted from obscurity" (as Kristofferson puts it), he wrote some of his biggest hits, including "Vietnam Blues," "Help Me Make It Through the Night" and "Me and Bobby McGee." Later, he would form The Highwaymen, a country music supergroup comprised of himself, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash. There are few country music stars that Kristofferson hasn't worked with or influenced during his career, even to this day. His music fame led him to the silver screen, where he appeared in 119 roles, including the "Blade" trilogy, the third remake of "A Star Is Born" and the History Channel miniseries "Texas Rising." Kristofferson was inducted into the songwriter's Hall of Fame in 1985 and has earned more than 48 different BMI Country and Pop awards. In 2004, he was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame and received the Veteran of the Year Award at the American Veteran Awards in 2011, with fellow country legend and vet Willie Nelson presenting the honor. #usarmy #Militarylife #kriskristofferson #countrymusic #Army #Military
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 50835 Views
  • via: U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command
    · 9 April, 2024
    National Former Prisoner of War Recognition Day is observed annually on April 9. On this day, we renew our strong and abiding commitment to America's former POWs and honor the tremendous debt of gratitude we owe to them for their courageous service and incredible sacrifices.
    #nationalformerpowday #USASOAC
    via: U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command · 9 April, 2024 National Former Prisoner of War Recognition Day is observed annually on April 9. On this day, we renew our strong and abiding commitment to America's former POWs and honor the tremendous debt of gratitude we owe to them for their courageous service and incredible sacrifices. #nationalformerpowday #USASOAC
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 24341 Views
  • via: U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command
    · 9 April, 2024
    Today is National Former Prisoner of War Recognition Day. A day in which we renew our strong and abiding commitment to America's former POWs and honor the tremendous debt of gratitude we owe them for their courageous service and incredible sacrifices. #nationalformerPOWday
    via: U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command · 9 April, 2024 Today is National Former Prisoner of War Recognition Day. A day in which we renew our strong and abiding commitment to America's former POWs and honor the tremendous debt of gratitude we owe them for their courageous service and incredible sacrifices. #nationalformerPOWday
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 20877 Views
  • Sharing "what I do" . I have built a coaching system PATHway. The coaching concept is simple Plan, Assess, Track, Honor. It means a lot to me though and I always look forward to helping others - especially VETS. Message me or reply here with "LEARN" and I'll connect with you.
    Sharing "what I do" . I have built a coaching system PATHway. The coaching concept is simple Plan, Assess, Track, Honor. It means a lot to me though and I always look forward to helping others - especially VETS. Message me or reply here with "LEARN" and I'll connect with you.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 6806 Views
  • U.S. Army
    ·
    #DYK today is Gold Star Spouses Day?
    Let us take a moment to honor and thank those service men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice in service to our nation.
    U.S. Army · #DYK today is Gold Star Spouses Day? Let us take a moment to honor and thank those service men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice in service to our nation.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 12471 Views
  • via: SEAL Of Honor
    · 1 April, 2024
    Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.
    via: SEAL Of Honor · 1 April, 2024 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2867 Views
  • I was a Soldier or I Am A Veteran
    - By Colonel Daniel K. Cedusky, USA, Retired

    I was a Soldier or I am a Veteran: That’s the way it is, that’s what we were... ARE.

    We put it, simply, without any swagger, without any brag, in those four plain words.
    We speak them softly, just to ourselves. Others may have forgotten.

    They are a manifesto to mankind; speak those four words anywhere in the world — yes, anywhere — and many who hear will recognize their meaning.

    They are a pledge. A pledge that stems from a document which said: “I solemnly Swear”, “to protect and defend” and goes on from there, and from a Flag called “Old Glory”.

    Listen, and you can hear the voices echoing through them, words that sprang white-hot from bloody lips, shouts of “medic", whispers of “Oh God!”, forceful words of “Follow Me”. If you can’t hear them, you weren’t, if you can you are.

    “Don’t give up the ship! Fight her till she dies. Damn the torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead! Do you want to live forever? Don’t cheer, boys; the poor devils are dying.”
    Laughing words, and words cold as January ice, words that when spoken, were meant, “Wait till you see the whites of their eyes”.

    The echo’s of I was a Soldier. Say what you mean, mean what you say!

    You can hear the slow cadences at Gettysburg, or Arlington honoring not a man, but a Soldier, perhaps forgotten by his nation, his family.

    Oh! Those Broken Promises, VA claims, Homelessness, Divorces.

    You can hear those echoes as you have a beer at the “Post”, walk in a parade, go to The Wall, visit a VA hospital, hear the mournful sounds of Taps, or gaze upon the white crosses, or tall white stones, row upon row.

    But they aren’t just words; they’re a way of life, a pattern of living, or a way of dying.

    They made the evening, with another day’s work done; supper with the wife and kids. A Beer with friends; and no Gestapo snooping at the door and threatening to kick your teeth in.

    They gave you the right to choose who shall run our government for us, the right to a secret vote that counts just as much as the next fellow’s in the final tally; and the obligation to use that right, and guard it and keep it clean.

    They prove the right to hope, to dream, to pray, and the obligation to serve.

    These are some of the meanings of those four words, meanings we don’t often stop to tally up or even list.

    Only in the stillness of a moonless night, or in the quiet of a Sunday afternoon, or in the thin dawn of a new day, when our world is close about us, do they rise up in our memories and stir in our sentient hearts.

    And we are remembering family & buddies, who were at Iwo Jima, Wake Island, and Bataan, Inchon, and Chu Lai, Knox and Benning, Great Lakes and Paris Island, Travis and Chanute, Bagdad, Kabul, Kuwait City, and many other places long forgotten by our civilian friends.

    They are plain words, those four. Simple words.

    You could carve them on stone; you could carve them on the mountain ranges. You could sing them, to the tune of “Yankee Doodle.”

    But you needn’t. You needn’t do any of those things, for those words are graven in the hearts of Veterans, they are familiar to 24,000,000 tongues, every sound, and every syllable.

    If you must write them, put them on my Stone.

    But when you speak them, speak them softly, proudly, I will hear you, for I too, I was a Soldier, I AM A VETERAN."

    NSDQ!
    I was a Soldier or I Am A Veteran - By Colonel Daniel K. Cedusky, USA, Retired I was a Soldier or I am a Veteran: That’s the way it is, that’s what we were... ARE. We put it, simply, without any swagger, without any brag, in those four plain words. We speak them softly, just to ourselves. Others may have forgotten. They are a manifesto to mankind; speak those four words anywhere in the world — yes, anywhere — and many who hear will recognize their meaning. They are a pledge. A pledge that stems from a document which said: “I solemnly Swear”, “to protect and defend” and goes on from there, and from a Flag called “Old Glory”. Listen, and you can hear the voices echoing through them, words that sprang white-hot from bloody lips, shouts of “medic", whispers of “Oh God!”, forceful words of “Follow Me”. If you can’t hear them, you weren’t, if you can you are. “Don’t give up the ship! Fight her till she dies. Damn the torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead! Do you want to live forever? Don’t cheer, boys; the poor devils are dying.” Laughing words, and words cold as January ice, words that when spoken, were meant, “Wait till you see the whites of their eyes”. The echo’s of I was a Soldier. Say what you mean, mean what you say! You can hear the slow cadences at Gettysburg, or Arlington honoring not a man, but a Soldier, perhaps forgotten by his nation, his family. Oh! Those Broken Promises, VA claims, Homelessness, Divorces. You can hear those echoes as you have a beer at the “Post”, walk in a parade, go to The Wall, visit a VA hospital, hear the mournful sounds of Taps, or gaze upon the white crosses, or tall white stones, row upon row. But they aren’t just words; they’re a way of life, a pattern of living, or a way of dying. They made the evening, with another day’s work done; supper with the wife and kids. A Beer with friends; and no Gestapo snooping at the door and threatening to kick your teeth in. They gave you the right to choose who shall run our government for us, the right to a secret vote that counts just as much as the next fellow’s in the final tally; and the obligation to use that right, and guard it and keep it clean. They prove the right to hope, to dream, to pray, and the obligation to serve. These are some of the meanings of those four words, meanings we don’t often stop to tally up or even list. Only in the stillness of a moonless night, or in the quiet of a Sunday afternoon, or in the thin dawn of a new day, when our world is close about us, do they rise up in our memories and stir in our sentient hearts. And we are remembering family & buddies, who were at Iwo Jima, Wake Island, and Bataan, Inchon, and Chu Lai, Knox and Benning, Great Lakes and Paris Island, Travis and Chanute, Bagdad, Kabul, Kuwait City, and many other places long forgotten by our civilian friends. They are plain words, those four. Simple words. You could carve them on stone; you could carve them on the mountain ranges. You could sing them, to the tune of “Yankee Doodle.” But you needn’t. You needn’t do any of those things, for those words are graven in the hearts of Veterans, they are familiar to 24,000,000 tongues, every sound, and every syllable. If you must write them, put them on my Stone. But when you speak them, speak them softly, proudly, I will hear you, for I too, I was a Soldier, I AM A VETERAN." NSDQ!
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    2 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 29170 Views
  • WWII Col. Van T. Barfoot, U.S. Army, Medal of Honor recipient.

    During the breakout from Anzio to Rome, Barfoot knocked out two machine gun nests and captured 17 German soldiers. Later that same day, he repelled a German tank assault, destroyed a Nazi field piece and while returning to camp carried two wounded commanders to safety. Prior to his death, he was involved in a neighborhood dispute with his community association involving the removal of his American Flag from his front lawn. He won the dispute and his flag stayed in his front yard.
    WWII Col. Van T. Barfoot, U.S. Army, Medal of Honor recipient. During the breakout from Anzio to Rome, Barfoot knocked out two machine gun nests and captured 17 German soldiers. Later that same day, he repelled a German tank assault, destroyed a Nazi field piece and while returning to camp carried two wounded commanders to safety. Prior to his death, he was involved in a neighborhood dispute with his community association involving the removal of his American Flag from his front lawn. He won the dispute and his flag stayed in his front yard.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 20677 Views
  • 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: 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
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  • Green Beret Foundation
    ·
    1st Lt. Robert L. Howard, was awarded the Medal of Honor for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as platoon sergeant of an American-Vietnamese platoon which was on a mission to rescue a missing American soldier in enemy controlled territory in Vietnam. He retired at the rank of Colonel in 1992.

    Visit the following link to read COL Howard’s Medal of Honor citation:
    https://www.cmohs.org/recipients/robert-l-howard
    5th Special Forces Group - Airborne
    Green Beret Foundation · 1st Lt. Robert L. Howard, was awarded the Medal of Honor for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as platoon sergeant of an American-Vietnamese platoon which was on a mission to rescue a missing American soldier in enemy controlled territory in Vietnam. He retired at the rank of Colonel in 1992. Visit the following link to read COL Howard’s Medal of Honor citation: https://www.cmohs.org/recipients/robert-l-howard 5th Special Forces Group - Airborne
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  • U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command
    · `25 March, 2024
    On this #MedalofHonorDay, we remember those who have received the highest award for valor in action against enemy forces. We are forever grateful for their service and will never forget their sacrifice.

    Link to ARSOF Medal Of Honor Recipients: https://arsof-history.org/medal_of_honor/index.html

    #USASOAC #SoldierStory #NationalMedalOfHonorDay
    U.S. Army Special Operations Aviation Command · `25 March, 2024 On this #MedalofHonorDay, we remember those who have received the highest award for valor in action against enemy forces. We are forever grateful for their service and will never forget their sacrifice. Link to ARSOF Medal Of Honor Recipients: https://arsof-history.org/medal_of_honor/index.html #USASOAC #SoldierStory #NationalMedalOfHonorDay
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  • War History Online
    ·
    Stained glass window dedicated to the 101st Airborne paratroopers in the church at Angoville-au-Plain, Manche, Normandy, France.

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

    Today, two stained glass windows commemorate the bravery of the 101st Airborne Division and the American parachutists, specifically honoring the two medics from the 2nd Battalion of the 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment (101st Airborne Division).
    War History Online · Stained glass window dedicated to the 101st Airborne paratroopers in the church at Angoville-au-Plain, Manche, Normandy, France. This church, which served as an aid station during the Battle of Normandy in World War II, was tended by US Army Medics Robert Wright and Ken Moore of the 101st Airborne, treating 80 wounded soldiers, both American and German, as well as a child, with blood stains still visible on the pews. Today, two stained glass windows commemorate the bravery of the 101st Airborne Division and the American parachutists, specifically honoring the two medics from the 2nd Battalion of the 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment (101st Airborne Division).
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  • 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.
    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.
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  • A Father’s Pride in His Late Son’s Service
    Commentary: A Father’s Pride in His Late Son’s Service
    By Army Maj. Gen. Kurt J. Stein

    Special to American Forces Press Service

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Great job!

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

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

    The family departed feeling special and honored. I sat there proud to be an American Soldier
    (Army Maj. Gen. Kurt J. Stein is the commanding general of U.S. Army TACOM Life Cycle Management Command.)
    A Father’s Pride in His Late Son’s Service Commentary: A Father’s Pride in His Late Son’s Service By Army Maj. Gen. Kurt J. Stein Special to American Forces Press Service WASHINGTON, March 15, 2010 – While flying on United Airlines last week, I overheard a telephone conversation from a gentleman seated directly behind me. His words went something like this: "Although today was an extremely sad day for me - it was absolutely the happiest day of my life, and I am proud to be an American." This gentleman went on to talk about a funeral he attended in South Carolina, and specifically gave great kudos to the U.S. Army for the professionalism displayed at this service. He went into great detail about the funeral service itself and how it was conducted. He went on to say that Jeremiah really enjoyed serving in the Army, and now, he clearly understood why. My ears immediately perked up when I overheard him talk about the Army in such a positive way. He boasted about the General who presented the flags to him and his family, the sharp-looking soldiers of the salute battery, the sounds of taps, how the soldiers stood at attention for such a long period of time, how the military paid for his family to fly to South Carolina, the number of letters and calls he received from Jeremiah's command, how the Red Cross assisted, and so on. He could not say enough great things about our Army. I quickly pulled a two-star card from my briefcase and wrote him a thank-you note for his kind words about our Army. He had no clue I was in the Army since I was in civilian clothes. Within seconds, he tapped me on the shoulder and with tears in his eyes proceeded to tell me the rest of the story. The gentleman's name is Robert Wittman. He was flying with his entire family: wife, son, daughter, Mom, Dad, grandparents and friends. They were carrying home the cremated remains of his son, Sgt. Jeremiah T. Wittman of the 4th Infantry Division, who was killed in Afghanistan on Feb. 13. Dad told me that Jeremiah already had two tours in Iraq and ultimately gave his life in Afghanistan. While in Iraq the first time, Jeremiah's vehicle was hit by an improvised explosive device, and several of his buddies were severely injured. He went on to say that his son truly loved the Army and did what he did from the heart. His dad was a proud man. He did say that he often wondered why his son stayed in the Army after his initial attack in Iraq. Now that he saw the U.S. Army in action at the funeral, he said – as he had on the phone earlier -- that he now understands why. Dad proudly held up the urn and boasted about how beautiful it was, and he continued to brag about the Army for all to hear. The folks around him listened with big ears and inspiration. I must admit, although it really was a beautiful urn and a wonderful Army story - it brought a slight tear to my eye, as I, too, have a son —- a captain in the 82nd Airborne Division -- serving in Afghanistan, and this moment hit home. Bottom line: Although the family was saddened by the loss of their son, they were all proud to be associated with the U.S. Army. I could see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. Why? Simply because of the way they were treated by our Army family at the funeral. The 4th ID leadership and others involved did it up right and made a positive, lifetime-lasting impact with this family. Great job! To top off a memorable flight, when the aircraft came to a halt the pilot announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. Among us today is a Great American Soldier named Sgt. Jeremiah Wittman, killed in action on 13 February. Our deepest sympathy, respect and sorrow go out to the Wittman family. We ask that you honor Sergeant Wittman -- our fallen hero -- the entire Wittman family and our armed forces by remaining seated and allowing the family to depart the aircraft first.” At that moment, you could have heard a pin drop in the aircraft, but within seconds, everyone on the aircraft was clapping as the family departed on their way. The family departed feeling special and honored. I sat there proud to be an American Soldier (Army Maj. Gen. Kurt J. Stein is the commanding general of U.S. Army TACOM Life Cycle Management Command.)
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  • I was a Soldier or I Am A Veteran
    - By Colonel Daniel K. Cedusky, USA, Retired

    I was a Soldier or I am a Veteran: That’s the way it is, that’s what we were... ARE.

    We put it, simply, without any swagger, without any brag, in those four plain words.

    We speak them softly, just to ourselves. Others may have forgotten.

    They are a manifesto to mankind; speak those four words anywhere in the world — yes, anywhere — and many who hear will recognize their meaning.

    They are a pledge. A pledge that stems from a document which said: “I solemnly Swear”, “to protect and defend” and goes on from there, and from a Flag called “Old Glory”.

    Listen, and you can hear the voices echoing through them, words that sprang white-hot from bloody lips, shouts of “medic", whispers of “Oh God!”, forceful words of “Follow Me”. If you can’t hear them, you weren’t, if you can you are.
    “Don’t give up the ship! Fight her till she dies. Damn the torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead! Do you want to live forever? Don’t cheer, boys; the poor devils are dying.”

    Laughing words, and words cold as January ice, words that when spoken, were meant, “Wait till you see the whites of their eyes”. The echo’s of I was a Soldier. Say what you mean, mean what you say!

    You can hear the slow cadences at Gettysburg, or Arlington honoring not a man, but a Soldier, perhaps forgotten by his nation, his family.

    Oh! Those Broken Promises, VA claims, Homelessness, Divorces.

    You can hear those echoes as you have a beer at the “Post”, walk in a parade, go to The Wall, visit a VA hospital, hear the mournful sounds of Taps, or gaze upon the white crosses, or tall white stones, row upon row.

    But they aren’t just words; they’re a way of life, a pattern of living, or a way of dying.

    They made the evening, with another day’s work done; supper with the wife and kids. A Beer with friends; and no Gestapo snooping at the door and threatening to kick your teeth in.

    They gave you the right to choose who shall run our government for us, the right to a secret vote that counts just as much as the next fellow’s in the final tally; and the obligation to use that right, and guard it and keep it clean. They prove the right to hope, to dream, to pray, and the obligation to serve.

    These are some of the meanings of those four words, meanings we don’t often stop to tally up or even list.

    Only in the stillness of a moonless night, or in the quiet of a Sunday afternoon, or in the thin dawn of a new day, when our world is close about us, do they rise up in our memories and stir in our sentient hearts.

    And we are remembering family & buddies, who were at Iwo Jima, Wake Island, and Bataan, Inchon, and Chu Lai, Knox and Benning,
    Great Lakes and Paris Island, Travis and Chanute, Bagdad, Kabul, Kuwait City, and many other places long forgotten by our civilian friends.

    They are plain words, those four. Simple words.
    You could carve them on stone; you could carve them on the mountain ranges. You could sing them, to the tune of “Yankee Doodle.”

    But you needn’t. You needn’t do any of those things, for those words are graven in the hearts of Veterans, they are familiar to 24,000,000 tongues, every sound, and every syllable.

    If you must write them, put them on my Stone.

    But when you speak them, speak them softly, proudly, I will hear you, for I too, I was a Soldier, I AM A VETERAN."

    NSDQ!
    I was a Soldier or I Am A Veteran - By Colonel Daniel K. Cedusky, USA, Retired I was a Soldier or I am a Veteran: That’s the way it is, that’s what we were... ARE. We put it, simply, without any swagger, without any brag, in those four plain words. We speak them softly, just to ourselves. Others may have forgotten. They are a manifesto to mankind; speak those four words anywhere in the world — yes, anywhere — and many who hear will recognize their meaning. They are a pledge. A pledge that stems from a document which said: “I solemnly Swear”, “to protect and defend” and goes on from there, and from a Flag called “Old Glory”. Listen, and you can hear the voices echoing through them, words that sprang white-hot from bloody lips, shouts of “medic", whispers of “Oh God!”, forceful words of “Follow Me”. If you can’t hear them, you weren’t, if you can you are. “Don’t give up the ship! Fight her till she dies. Damn the torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead! Do you want to live forever? Don’t cheer, boys; the poor devils are dying.” Laughing words, and words cold as January ice, words that when spoken, were meant, “Wait till you see the whites of their eyes”. The echo’s of I was a Soldier. Say what you mean, mean what you say! You can hear the slow cadences at Gettysburg, or Arlington honoring not a man, but a Soldier, perhaps forgotten by his nation, his family. Oh! Those Broken Promises, VA claims, Homelessness, Divorces. You can hear those echoes as you have a beer at the “Post”, walk in a parade, go to The Wall, visit a VA hospital, hear the mournful sounds of Taps, or gaze upon the white crosses, or tall white stones, row upon row. But they aren’t just words; they’re a way of life, a pattern of living, or a way of dying. They made the evening, with another day’s work done; supper with the wife and kids. A Beer with friends; and no Gestapo snooping at the door and threatening to kick your teeth in. They gave you the right to choose who shall run our government for us, the right to a secret vote that counts just as much as the next fellow’s in the final tally; and the obligation to use that right, and guard it and keep it clean. They prove the right to hope, to dream, to pray, and the obligation to serve. These are some of the meanings of those four words, meanings we don’t often stop to tally up or even list. Only in the stillness of a moonless night, or in the quiet of a Sunday afternoon, or in the thin dawn of a new day, when our world is close about us, do they rise up in our memories and stir in our sentient hearts. And we are remembering family & buddies, who were at Iwo Jima, Wake Island, and Bataan, Inchon, and Chu Lai, Knox and Benning, Great Lakes and Paris Island, Travis and Chanute, Bagdad, Kabul, Kuwait City, and many other places long forgotten by our civilian friends. They are plain words, those four. Simple words. You could carve them on stone; you could carve them on the mountain ranges. You could sing them, to the tune of “Yankee Doodle.” But you needn’t. You needn’t do any of those things, for those words are graven in the hearts of Veterans, they are familiar to 24,000,000 tongues, every sound, and every syllable. If you must write them, put them on my Stone. But when you speak them, speak them softly, proudly, I will hear you, for I too, I was a Soldier, I AM A VETERAN." NSDQ!
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  • 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!
    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!
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  • Helping echo the Legacy of our Brothers into eternity.

    Fall In highlights resources that remember, honor and recall the best of us all.

    Today, we remember Jermey Wolfe. Quality Always, Wings of Destiny, and “Bring It On” (one of Jeremy’s favorite movies).

    https://thefallen.militarytimes.com/army-2nd-lt-jeremy-l-wolfe/256919
    Helping echo the Legacy of our Brothers into eternity. Fall In highlights resources that remember, honor and recall the best of us all. Today, we remember Jermey Wolfe. Quality Always, Wings of Destiny, and “Bring It On” (one of Jeremy’s favorite movies). https://thefallen.militarytimes.com/army-2nd-lt-jeremy-l-wolfe/256919
    THEFALLEN.MILITARYTIMES.COM
    Army 2nd Lt. Jeremy L. Wolfe| Military Times
    Honoring those who fought and died in Operation Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation New Dawn
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  • 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
    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
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  • via: USAF Special Warfare Recruiting
    ·
    This Sunday’s Hero Story…

    The President of the United States of America takes pride in presenting the Medal of Honor (Posthumously) to (then) Technical Sergeant John A. Chapman, United States Air Force, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty.

    Technical Sergeant Chapman distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism as an Air Force Special Tactics Combat Controller of the 24th Special Tactics Squadron, attached to a Navy Sea, Air, and Land (SEAL) Team conducting reconnaissance operations in Takur Ghar, Afghanistan, on 4 March 2002.

    During insertion, the team’s helicopter was ambushed causing a teammate to fall into an entrenched group of enemy combatants below.

    Sergeant Chapman and the team voluntarily reinserted onto the snow-capped mountain, into the heart of a known enemy stronghold to rescue one of their own.

    Without regard for his own safety, Sergeant Chapman immediately engaged, moving in the direction of the closest enemy position despite coming under heavy fire from multiple directions.

    He fearlessly charged an enemy bunker, up a steep incline in thigh-deep snow and into hostile fire, directly engaging the enemy.

    Upon reaching the bunker, Sergeant Chapman assaulted and cleared the position, killing all enemy occupants.

    With complete disregard for his own life, Sergeant Chapman deliberately moved from cover only 12 meters from the enemy, and exposed himself once again to attack a second bunker, from which an emplaced machine gun was firing on his team.

    During this assault from an exposed position directly in the line of intense fire, Sergeant Chapman was struck and injured by enemy fire.

    Despite severe, mortal wounds, he continued to fight relentlessly, sustaining a violent engagement with multiple enemy personnel before making the ultimate sacrifice.

    By his heroic actions and extraordinary valor, sacrificing his life for the lives of his teammates, Technical Sergeant Chapman upheld the highest traditions of military service and reflected great credit upon himself and the United States Air Force.

    #medalofhonor #moh #neverforgotten #honor #courage #bravery #airforce #cct #combatcontroller #firstthere

    Air Force Special Operations Command
    Air Force Special Tactics
    via: USAF Special Warfare Recruiting · This Sunday’s Hero Story… The President of the United States of America takes pride in presenting the Medal of Honor (Posthumously) to (then) Technical Sergeant John A. Chapman, United States Air Force, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty. Technical Sergeant Chapman distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism as an Air Force Special Tactics Combat Controller of the 24th Special Tactics Squadron, attached to a Navy Sea, Air, and Land (SEAL) Team conducting reconnaissance operations in Takur Ghar, Afghanistan, on 4 March 2002. During insertion, the team’s helicopter was ambushed causing a teammate to fall into an entrenched group of enemy combatants below. Sergeant Chapman and the team voluntarily reinserted onto the snow-capped mountain, into the heart of a known enemy stronghold to rescue one of their own. Without regard for his own safety, Sergeant Chapman immediately engaged, moving in the direction of the closest enemy position despite coming under heavy fire from multiple directions. He fearlessly charged an enemy bunker, up a steep incline in thigh-deep snow and into hostile fire, directly engaging the enemy. Upon reaching the bunker, Sergeant Chapman assaulted and cleared the position, killing all enemy occupants. With complete disregard for his own life, Sergeant Chapman deliberately moved from cover only 12 meters from the enemy, and exposed himself once again to attack a second bunker, from which an emplaced machine gun was firing on his team. During this assault from an exposed position directly in the line of intense fire, Sergeant Chapman was struck and injured by enemy fire. Despite severe, mortal wounds, he continued to fight relentlessly, sustaining a violent engagement with multiple enemy personnel before making the ultimate sacrifice. By his heroic actions and extraordinary valor, sacrificing his life for the lives of his teammates, Technical Sergeant Chapman upheld the highest traditions of military service and reflected great credit upon himself and the United States Air Force. #medalofhonor #moh #neverforgotten #honor #courage #bravery #airforce #cct #combatcontroller #firstthere Air Force Special Operations Command Air Force Special Tactics
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  • Britt Kelly Slabinski is a former United States Navy SEAL who was awarded the Medal of Honor on 24 May 2018 for his actions during the Battle of Takur Ghar.
    Britt Kelly Slabinski is a former United States Navy SEAL who was awarded the Medal of Honor on 24 May 2018 for his actions during the Battle of Takur Ghar.
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  • 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: 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
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  • 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
    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
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  • via: The 75th Ranger Regiment
    ·
    Honoring our Fallen Hero:

    Sergeant Bradley S. Crose
    Operation Anaconda
    March 3, 2002

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Rangers Lead The Way!
    via: The 75th Ranger Regiment · Honoring our Fallen Hero: Sergeant Bradley S. Crose Operation Anaconda March 3, 2002 Bradley S. Crose, 22, was from Orange Park, Florida, and volunteered for military service with the United States Army, June 6, 1998. He completed basic training and advanced individual training in the military operational specialty of infantryman at Fort Benning, Georgia. Sergeant Crose volunteered for the second time to attend Airborne School and completed his airborne training at Fort Benning, Georgia. On November 20, 1998, he was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment at Hunter Army Airfield, Georgia. He earned his Ranger Tab at Fort Benning. He was also a graduate of the Primary Leadership Development Course. Sergeant Crose held many positions while assigned to 1st Battalion. He was killed while fighting the Taliban and Al-Qaeda during Operation Anaconda, the most intense fighting thus far in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan. He died March 3 in combat after enemy gunfire forced down a MH-47 Chinook helicopter, in which he and his fellow Rangers were aboard. As a Ranger, Sergeant Crose distinguished himself as a member of the Army’s premier light-infantry unit and was a highly trained and motivated soldier. He is survived by his father Mr. Ricky Crose, and his mother Ms. Sheila Maguhn, both of Orange Park, Florida. Rangers Lead The Way!
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  • via: Honor Them
    ·
    On this day in Operation Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation New Dawn history we lost 20 service men & women. Please help me to Pray for their Families and Honor them on this day so they are Never Forgotten.

    SALUTE!
    via: Honor Them · On this day in Operation Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation New Dawn history we lost 20 service men & women. Please help me to Pray for their Families and Honor them on this day so they are Never Forgotten. SALUTE!
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  • via: WW II uncovered
    ·
    🇺🇲WWII uncovered: Medal of Honor Recipient Jack Lummus: From the New York Giants to the Beaches of Iwo Jima

    Jack Lummus, of Ennis Texas, was a sports star at Baylor University. Excelling in both baseball and football, Jack was nominated for two consecutive years as an All-American. However he left Baylor early to enlist with the Army Air Corps. Unfortunately, Jack washed out in flight school.

    Jack returned to baseball briefly in the minor leagues and then signed with the New York Giants. As a rookie he played nine games. "On December 7, 1941, the Giants were playing the Brooklyn Dodgers. Around half-time, the Associated Press ticker in the press box gave out a message saying, "Airplanes identified as Japanese have attacked the American Naval Base at Pearl Harbor." The players continued the game, knowing nothing of the attack.

    Jack enlisted with the US Marine Corps on January 30, 1942. He graduated from Officer's Training School at Quantico on December 18, 1942. Initially, Lummus was assigned to the Marine Raiders at Camp Pendleton - ultimately attaching to the 27th Marines, 5th Marine Division.

    "In January 1944, he was assigned as Executive Officer, Company F, 2nd Battalion, 27th Marines. In August 1944, the Division was transferred to Camp Tarawa outside of Waimea, Hawaii. Lummus boarded the USS Henry Clay for the trip. After four months of training, the Division was assigned to the V Amphibious Corps and would fight to take the Island of Iwo Jima." - USMC Archive

    According to US Marine Corps records: "First Lieutenant Jack Lummus was in the first wave of Marines to land at Red One."

    "On March 6, Lummus was put in command of E Company’s third rifle platoon. Two days later, the platoon was at the spearhead of an assault on an objective near Kitano Point. As Lummus charged forward, assaulting pillboxes on his own, his men watched as he survived several shrapnel hits, only to step on a land mine. Despite horrific damage to his legs, Lummus continued to push his men forward, demanding that they not stop for him." - National World War II Museum

    According to the National World War II Museum: "Lummus was triaged and evacuated to the Fifth Division Hospital, where doctors did all they could to save his life. Despite 18 pints of blood transfusions and their best efforts, the damage to Lummus’ body was too much, even for his athletic frame. Before he died, Lummus said to one o f the surgeons, “I guess the New York Giants have lost the services of a damn good end.” A few hours later, Lummus asked for a sip of coffee, after which he laid back, closed his eyes, and smiled as he took his last breath."

    First Lieutenant Jack Lummus was 29 years old at the time of his passing.

    "Jack Lummus was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor on May 30, 1946.

    His military and athletic legacy continue today, as the U.S. Navy named a maritime prepositioning ship in his honor, the USNS 1st Lt Jack Lummus, in 1986, and the New York Giants inducted him into their Ring of Honor on October 11, 2015" - The National Medal of Honor Museum

    Jack lies in rest at Myrtle Cemetery in Ennis Texas. Lest We Forget.

    #ww2uncovered #honorourveterans #bayloruniversity #newyorkgiants #rememberthefallen #honorthefallen #MedalofHonor #iwojima #WWII #WWIIveteran #WorldWarII #lestweforget
    WWII uncovered©️ description and photos sourced by: USMC Archive, National World War II Museum, Baylor University and Ancestry Database
    via: WW II uncovered · 🇺🇲WWII uncovered: Medal of Honor Recipient Jack Lummus: From the New York Giants to the Beaches of Iwo Jima Jack Lummus, of Ennis Texas, was a sports star at Baylor University. Excelling in both baseball and football, Jack was nominated for two consecutive years as an All-American. However he left Baylor early to enlist with the Army Air Corps. Unfortunately, Jack washed out in flight school. Jack returned to baseball briefly in the minor leagues and then signed with the New York Giants. As a rookie he played nine games. "On December 7, 1941, the Giants were playing the Brooklyn Dodgers. Around half-time, the Associated Press ticker in the press box gave out a message saying, "Airplanes identified as Japanese have attacked the American Naval Base at Pearl Harbor." The players continued the game, knowing nothing of the attack. Jack enlisted with the US Marine Corps on January 30, 1942. He graduated from Officer's Training School at Quantico on December 18, 1942. Initially, Lummus was assigned to the Marine Raiders at Camp Pendleton - ultimately attaching to the 27th Marines, 5th Marine Division. "In January 1944, he was assigned as Executive Officer, Company F, 2nd Battalion, 27th Marines. In August 1944, the Division was transferred to Camp Tarawa outside of Waimea, Hawaii. Lummus boarded the USS Henry Clay for the trip. After four months of training, the Division was assigned to the V Amphibious Corps and would fight to take the Island of Iwo Jima." - USMC Archive According to US Marine Corps records: "First Lieutenant Jack Lummus was in the first wave of Marines to land at Red One." "On March 6, Lummus was put in command of E Company’s third rifle platoon. Two days later, the platoon was at the spearhead of an assault on an objective near Kitano Point. As Lummus charged forward, assaulting pillboxes on his own, his men watched as he survived several shrapnel hits, only to step on a land mine. Despite horrific damage to his legs, Lummus continued to push his men forward, demanding that they not stop for him." - National World War II Museum According to the National World War II Museum: "Lummus was triaged and evacuated to the Fifth Division Hospital, where doctors did all they could to save his life. Despite 18 pints of blood transfusions and their best efforts, the damage to Lummus’ body was too much, even for his athletic frame. Before he died, Lummus said to one o f the surgeons, “I guess the New York Giants have lost the services of a damn good end.” A few hours later, Lummus asked for a sip of coffee, after which he laid back, closed his eyes, and smiled as he took his last breath." First Lieutenant Jack Lummus was 29 years old at the time of his passing. "Jack Lummus was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor on May 30, 1946. His military and athletic legacy continue today, as the U.S. Navy named a maritime prepositioning ship in his honor, the USNS 1st Lt Jack Lummus, in 1986, and the New York Giants inducted him into their Ring of Honor on October 11, 2015" - The National Medal of Honor Museum Jack lies in rest at Myrtle Cemetery in Ennis Texas. Lest We Forget. #ww2uncovered #honorourveterans #bayloruniversity #newyorkgiants #rememberthefallen #honorthefallen #MedalofHonor #iwojima #WWII #WWIIveteran #WorldWarII #lestweforget WWII uncovered©️ description and photos sourced by: USMC Archive, National World War II Museum, Baylor University and Ancestry Database
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  • Navajo Code Talkers:

    This Navajo Code Talkers monument is located in Window Rock, Arizona. This monument pays tribute to the Navajo Code Talkers, a small band of Warriors who created an unbreakable code from their Native language and changed the course of modern history.

    The Navajo Code Talkers played a crucial role in contributing to the Allied victory during World War II. The use of the Navajo language as a code proved to be highly effective and secure, baffling enemy cryptographers.

    Their efforts and sacrifice are rightfully honored at the Navajo Code Talkers monument in Window Rock, Arizona. Let's take a moment to appreciate and acknowledge the significant contributions of these heroes to modern history.

    https://www.intelligence.gov/people/barrier-breakers-in-history/453-navajo-code-talkers

    SALUTE!
    Navajo Code Talkers: This Navajo Code Talkers monument is located in Window Rock, Arizona. This monument pays tribute to the Navajo Code Talkers, a small band of Warriors who created an unbreakable code from their Native language and changed the course of modern history. The Navajo Code Talkers played a crucial role in contributing to the Allied victory during World War II. The use of the Navajo language as a code proved to be highly effective and secure, baffling enemy cryptographers. Their efforts and sacrifice are rightfully honored at the Navajo Code Talkers monument in Window Rock, Arizona. Let's take a moment to appreciate and acknowledge the significant contributions of these heroes to modern history. https://www.intelligence.gov/people/barrier-breakers-in-history/453-navajo-code-talkers SALUTE!
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  • via: USAF Special Warfare Recruiting
    ·
    This Sunday’s Hero Story…

    The President of the United States of America takes pride in presenting the Medal of Honor (Posthumously) to (then) Technical Sergeant John A. Chapman, United States Air Force, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty. Technical Sergeant Chapman distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism as an Air Force Special Tactics Combat Controller of the 24th Special Tactics Squadron, attached to a Navy Sea, Air, and Land (SEAL) Team conducting reconnaissance operations in Takur Ghar, Afghanistan, on 4 March 2002. During insertion, the team’s helicopter was ambushed causing a teammate to fall into an entrenched group of enemy combatants below. Sergeant Chapman and the team voluntarily reinserted onto the snow-capped mountain, into the heart of a known enemy stronghold to rescue one of their own. Without regard for his own safety, Sergeant Chapman immediately engaged, moving in the direction of the closest enemy position despite coming under heavy fire from multiple directions. He fearlessly charged an enemy bunker, up a steep incline in thigh-deep snow and into hostile fire, directly engaging the enemy. Upon reaching the bunker, Sergeant Chapman assaulted and cleared the position, killing all enemy occupants. With complete disregard for his own life, Sergeant Chapman deliberately moved from cover only 12 meters from the enemy, and exposed himself once again to attack a second bunker, from which an emplaced machine gun was firing on his team. During this assault from an exposed position directly in the line of intense fire, Sergeant Chapman was struck and injured by enemy fire. Despite severe, mortal wounds, he continued to fight relentlessly, sustaining a violent engagement with multiple enemy personnel before making the ultimate sacrifice. By his heroic actions and extraordinary valor, sacrificing his life for the lives of his teammates, Technical Sergeant Chapman upheld the highest traditions of military service and reflected great credit upon himself and the United States Air Force.

    #medalofhonor #moh #neverforgotten #honor #courage #bravery #airforce #cct #combatcontroller #firstthere

    Air Force Special Operations Command
    Air Force Special Tactics
    via: USAF Special Warfare Recruiting · This Sunday’s Hero Story… The President of the United States of America takes pride in presenting the Medal of Honor (Posthumously) to (then) Technical Sergeant John A. Chapman, United States Air Force, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty. Technical Sergeant Chapman distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism as an Air Force Special Tactics Combat Controller of the 24th Special Tactics Squadron, attached to a Navy Sea, Air, and Land (SEAL) Team conducting reconnaissance operations in Takur Ghar, Afghanistan, on 4 March 2002. During insertion, the team’s helicopter was ambushed causing a teammate to fall into an entrenched group of enemy combatants below. Sergeant Chapman and the team voluntarily reinserted onto the snow-capped mountain, into the heart of a known enemy stronghold to rescue one of their own. Without regard for his own safety, Sergeant Chapman immediately engaged, moving in the direction of the closest enemy position despite coming under heavy fire from multiple directions. He fearlessly charged an enemy bunker, up a steep incline in thigh-deep snow and into hostile fire, directly engaging the enemy. Upon reaching the bunker, Sergeant Chapman assaulted and cleared the position, killing all enemy occupants. With complete disregard for his own life, Sergeant Chapman deliberately moved from cover only 12 meters from the enemy, and exposed himself once again to attack a second bunker, from which an emplaced machine gun was firing on his team. During this assault from an exposed position directly in the line of intense fire, Sergeant Chapman was struck and injured by enemy fire. Despite severe, mortal wounds, he continued to fight relentlessly, sustaining a violent engagement with multiple enemy personnel before making the ultimate sacrifice. By his heroic actions and extraordinary valor, sacrificing his life for the lives of his teammates, Technical Sergeant Chapman upheld the highest traditions of military service and reflected great credit upon himself and the United States Air Force. #medalofhonor #moh #neverforgotten #honor #courage #bravery #airforce #cct #combatcontroller #firstthere Air Force Special Operations Command Air Force Special Tactics
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  • - 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.
    - 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.
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  • “Return in Honor or on your Shield”.
    https://www.tumblr.com/thelastdiadoch/112368585988/the-famous-phrase-come-back-with-your-shield
    “Return in Honor or on your Shield”. https://www.tumblr.com/thelastdiadoch/112368585988/the-famous-phrase-come-back-with-your-shield
    WWW.TUMBLR.COM
    The Last Diadoch
    The famous phrase, "Come back with your shield - or on it." https://www.facebook.com/1526506277606537/photos/a.1544282062495625.1073741842.1526506277606537/1540688659521632/?type=3&theater "Anothe…
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  • 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."
    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."
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  • Shared by Art Reynolds from a friend of his:

    "Those who fight monsters inevitably change. Because of all that they see and do, they lose their innocence, and a piece of their humanity with it. If they want to survive, they begin to adopt some of the same characteristics as the monsters they fight. It is necessary. They become capable of rage, and extreme violence.

    There is a fundamental difference, however. They keep those monster tendencies locked away in a cage, deep inside. That monster is only allowed out to protect others, to accomplish the mission, to get the job done, Not for the perverse pleasure that the monsters feel when they harm others. In fact, those monster tendencies cause damage, GUILT, ISOLATION, DEPRESSION, PTSD.

    There is a cost for visiting violence on others when you are not a monster. Those who do so know one thing: The cost inflicted upon society as a whole is far greater without those who fight monsters. That is why they are willing to make that horrible sacrifice so that others may live peaceably.

    Before you judge one of us, remember this:
    We witness things that humans aren't meant to see, and we see them repeatedly. We perform the duties that you feel are beneath you. We solve your problems... Often by visiting violence upon others. We run towards the things that you run away from. We go out to fight what you fear. We stand between you, and the monsters that want to damage you. You want to pretend that they don't exist, but we know better. We do the things that the vast majority are too soft, too weak, too cowardly to do.

    Your life is more peaceful because of us.

    The current political climate in this country holds that there is nothing worth fighting for. Submission is the popular mantra. Warriors are decried, denigrated, and cast as morally inferior. We know how childish, how asinine, and how cowardly that mindset is.

    We know this: There ARE things worth fighting, and dying for. We know that not every problem can be solved through rational discourse, that some problems can only be solved through the application of force and violence. And, while we do prefer the former, we are perfectly capable of the latter.

    We believe that fighting what others fear is honorable, noble, and just, and are willing to pay the price for that deeply held belief.

    Why? For us, it isn't a choice...

    It is what we are. We are simply built that way."

    ~ SHARED BY A FRIEND AND WARRIOR BROTHER!!
    Shared by Art Reynolds from a friend of his: "Those who fight monsters inevitably change. Because of all that they see and do, they lose their innocence, and a piece of their humanity with it. If they want to survive, they begin to adopt some of the same characteristics as the monsters they fight. It is necessary. They become capable of rage, and extreme violence. There is a fundamental difference, however. They keep those monster tendencies locked away in a cage, deep inside. That monster is only allowed out to protect others, to accomplish the mission, to get the job done, Not for the perverse pleasure that the monsters feel when they harm others. In fact, those monster tendencies cause damage, GUILT, ISOLATION, DEPRESSION, PTSD. There is a cost for visiting violence on others when you are not a monster. Those who do so know one thing: The cost inflicted upon society as a whole is far greater without those who fight monsters. That is why they are willing to make that horrible sacrifice so that others may live peaceably. Before you judge one of us, remember this: We witness things that humans aren't meant to see, and we see them repeatedly. We perform the duties that you feel are beneath you. We solve your problems... Often by visiting violence upon others. We run towards the things that you run away from. We go out to fight what you fear. We stand between you, and the monsters that want to damage you. You want to pretend that they don't exist, but we know better. We do the things that the vast majority are too soft, too weak, too cowardly to do. Your life is more peaceful because of us. The current political climate in this country holds that there is nothing worth fighting for. Submission is the popular mantra. Warriors are decried, denigrated, and cast as morally inferior. We know how childish, how asinine, and how cowardly that mindset is. We know this: There ARE things worth fighting, and dying for. We know that not every problem can be solved through rational discourse, that some problems can only be solved through the application of force and violence. And, while we do prefer the former, we are perfectly capable of the latter. We believe that fighting what others fear is honorable, noble, and just, and are willing to pay the price for that deeply held belief. Why? For us, it isn't a choice... It is what we are. We are simply built that way." ~ SHARED BY A FRIEND AND WARRIOR BROTHER!!
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  • I had the honor of being a guest in this podcast with a fellow former Nightstalker and his cousin Firefighter. We talk everything from Breakdancing and Hip Hop, to 160th days, PTSD/trauma, and healing journeys, with mine including Ibogaine and 5MEO/DMT treatment in Mexico.

    If you have a spare three hours, give it a listen. If you have any questions after, feel free to pass.

    NSDQ.

    https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/ep7-interview-with-danny-bell/id1676780906?i=1000646369679
    I had the honor of being a guest in this podcast with a fellow former Nightstalker and his cousin Firefighter. We talk everything from Breakdancing and Hip Hop, to 160th days, PTSD/trauma, and healing journeys, with mine including Ibogaine and 5MEO/DMT treatment in Mexico. If you have a spare three hours, give it a listen. If you have any questions after, feel free to pass. NSDQ. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/ep7-interview-with-danny-bell/id1676780906?i=1000646369679
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  • via: The 75th Ranger Regiment
    ·
    On this date in Ranger History: Feb. 22, 1969:
    Medal of Honor: Specialist Four Robert D. Law

    For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.

    Sp4c. Law distinguished himself while serving with Company 1. While on a long-range reconnaissance patrol in Tinh Phuoc Thanh province, Sp4c. Law and 5 comrades made contact with a small enemy patrol. As the opposing elements exchanged intense fire, he maneuvered to a perilously exposed position flanking his comrades, and began placing suppressive fire on the hostile troops. Although his team was hindered by a low supply of ammunition and suffered from an unidentified irritating gas in the air, Sp4c. Law's spirited defense and challenging counter-assault rallied his fellow soldiers against the well-equipped hostile troops.

    When an enemy grenade landed in his team's position, Sp4c. Law, instead of diving into the safety of a stream behind him, threw himself on the grenade to save the lives of his comrades. Sp4c. Law's extraordinary courage and profound concern for his fellow soldiers were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit on himself, his unit, and the U.S. Army.

    Rangers Lead the Way!
    via: The 75th Ranger Regiment · On this date in Ranger History: Feb. 22, 1969: Medal of Honor: Specialist Four Robert D. Law For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Sp4c. Law distinguished himself while serving with Company 1. While on a long-range reconnaissance patrol in Tinh Phuoc Thanh province, Sp4c. Law and 5 comrades made contact with a small enemy patrol. As the opposing elements exchanged intense fire, he maneuvered to a perilously exposed position flanking his comrades, and began placing suppressive fire on the hostile troops. Although his team was hindered by a low supply of ammunition and suffered from an unidentified irritating gas in the air, Sp4c. Law's spirited defense and challenging counter-assault rallied his fellow soldiers against the well-equipped hostile troops. When an enemy grenade landed in his team's position, Sp4c. Law, instead of diving into the safety of a stream behind him, threw himself on the grenade to save the lives of his comrades. Sp4c. Law's extraordinary courage and profound concern for his fellow soldiers were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit on himself, his unit, and the U.S. Army. Rangers Lead the Way!
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  • “The MEDAL OF HONOR” #488 in this Series.
    The Medal of Honor is the highest military decoration awarded by the United States government.

    Peter Joseph DALESSANDRO, US Army, TechSergeant
    World War II – September 1, 1939 to September 2, 1945

    Peter Joseph DALESSANDRO, US Army, TechSergeant

    Date of Birth: May 18, 1918 Watervliet, New York
    Date of Death: October 15, 1997 (aged 79)
    Burial Location: Gerald B. H. Solomon Saratoga
    National Cemetery, Schuylerville, NY

    DALESSANDRO was Platoon Sergeant of First Platoon and ordered to secure an important
    crossroad on the high grounds of Kalterherberg, Germany.

    His Citation reads:

    “He was with the 1st Platoon holding an important road junction on high ground near Kalterherberg, Germany,
    on 22 December 1944.

    In the early morning hours, the enemy after laying down an intense artillery and mortar barrage, followed through with an all-out attack that threatened to overwhelm the position.

    T/Sgt. Dalessondro, seeing that his men were becoming disorganized, braved the intense fire to move among them with words of encouragement.

    Advancing to a fully exposed observation post, he adjusted mortar fire upon the attackers, meanwhile firing upon them with his rifle and encouraging his men in halting and repulsing the attack.

    Later in the day the enemy launched a second determined attack.

    Once again, T/Sgt. Dalessondro, in the face of imminent death, rushed to his forward position and immediately called for mortar fire.

    After exhausting his rifle ammunition, he crawled 30 yards over exposed ground to secure a light machine gun, returned to his position, and fired upon the enemy at almost point blank range until the gun jammed.

    He managed to get the gun to fire 1 more burst, which used up his last round, but with these bullets he killed
    4 German soldiers who were on the verge of murdering an aid man and 2 wounded soldiers in a nearby foxhole.

    When the enemy had almost surrounded him, he remained alone, steadfastly facing almost certain death or capture, hurling grenades and calling for mortar fire closer and closer to his outpost as he covered the withdrawal of his platoon to a second line of defense.

    As the German hordes swarmed about him, he was last heard calling for a barrage, saying, "OK, mortars, let me have it--right in this position!"

    The gallantry and intrepidity shown by T/Sgt. Dalessondro against an overwhelming enemy attack saved
    his company from complete rout.

    He was captured during the battle and spent the rest of the war as a prisoner of war.”

    After coming back as a war hero to Watervliet, New York, where he lived before the war, DALESSANDRO was elected to the New York Senate as Democrat Deputee, where he served for 35 years.

    After he retired from the Senate, he became the Senate Minority Leader's Secretary.

    He retired from public life in October 1977, but stayed active in the politic of the Albany County until his death.

    DALESSANDRO was a member of the American Legion, Catholic War Veterans, Veterans of Foreign Wars and the Elks.

    He died in 1998.

    MEDALS and AWARDS:
    . Medal of Honor
    . Silver Star
    . Purple Heart

    IN HIS HONOR:
    A portion of County Route 151 alongside Albany International Airport was been named in his honor in Colonie, New York.

    NOTE:
    A spelling mistake made 42 years ago by the Federal government will greet travelers every time they drive to the Albany County Airport.

    The small error, however, does not bother Peter J. DALESSANDRO, the county's Medal of Honor winner. He was beaming Monday morning when he and Albany County Executive James J. Coyne pulled off the red, white and blue plastic wrap to unveil the new name for the Albany County Airport access road: "Peter J. Dalessondro Boulevard."

    "That's the way it's spelled on my Medal," DALESSANDRO of Loudonville said, flipping over his Medal of Honor to show where the "o" was written on the back.
    “The MEDAL OF HONOR” #488 in this Series. The Medal of Honor is the highest military decoration awarded by the United States government. Peter Joseph DALESSANDRO, US Army, TechSergeant World War II – September 1, 1939 to September 2, 1945 Peter Joseph DALESSANDRO, US Army, TechSergeant Date of Birth: May 18, 1918 Watervliet, New York Date of Death: October 15, 1997 (aged 79) Burial Location: Gerald B. H. Solomon Saratoga National Cemetery, Schuylerville, NY DALESSANDRO was Platoon Sergeant of First Platoon and ordered to secure an important crossroad on the high grounds of Kalterherberg, Germany. His Citation reads: “He was with the 1st Platoon holding an important road junction on high ground near Kalterherberg, Germany, on 22 December 1944. In the early morning hours, the enemy after laying down an intense artillery and mortar barrage, followed through with an all-out attack that threatened to overwhelm the position. T/Sgt. Dalessondro, seeing that his men were becoming disorganized, braved the intense fire to move among them with words of encouragement. Advancing to a fully exposed observation post, he adjusted mortar fire upon the attackers, meanwhile firing upon them with his rifle and encouraging his men in halting and repulsing the attack. Later in the day the enemy launched a second determined attack. Once again, T/Sgt. Dalessondro, in the face of imminent death, rushed to his forward position and immediately called for mortar fire. After exhausting his rifle ammunition, he crawled 30 yards over exposed ground to secure a light machine gun, returned to his position, and fired upon the enemy at almost point blank range until the gun jammed. He managed to get the gun to fire 1 more burst, which used up his last round, but with these bullets he killed 4 German soldiers who were on the verge of murdering an aid man and 2 wounded soldiers in a nearby foxhole. When the enemy had almost surrounded him, he remained alone, steadfastly facing almost certain death or capture, hurling grenades and calling for mortar fire closer and closer to his outpost as he covered the withdrawal of his platoon to a second line of defense. As the German hordes swarmed about him, he was last heard calling for a barrage, saying, "OK, mortars, let me have it--right in this position!" The gallantry and intrepidity shown by T/Sgt. Dalessondro against an overwhelming enemy attack saved his company from complete rout. He was captured during the battle and spent the rest of the war as a prisoner of war.” After coming back as a war hero to Watervliet, New York, where he lived before the war, DALESSANDRO was elected to the New York Senate as Democrat Deputee, where he served for 35 years. After he retired from the Senate, he became the Senate Minority Leader's Secretary. He retired from public life in October 1977, but stayed active in the politic of the Albany County until his death. DALESSANDRO was a member of the American Legion, Catholic War Veterans, Veterans of Foreign Wars and the Elks. He died in 1998. MEDALS and AWARDS: . Medal of Honor . Silver Star . Purple Heart IN HIS HONOR: A portion of County Route 151 alongside Albany International Airport was been named in his honor in Colonie, New York. NOTE: A spelling mistake made 42 years ago by the Federal government will greet travelers every time they drive to the Albany County Airport. The small error, however, does not bother Peter J. DALESSANDRO, the county's Medal of Honor winner. He was beaming Monday morning when he and Albany County Executive James J. Coyne pulled off the red, white and blue plastic wrap to unveil the new name for the Albany County Airport access road: "Peter J. Dalessondro Boulevard." "That's the way it's spelled on my Medal," DALESSANDRO of Loudonville said, flipping over his Medal of Honor to show where the "o" was written on the back.
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  • 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
    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
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  • "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new Nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

    Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that Nation or any Nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war.

    We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that Nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

    But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow, this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.

    The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.

    It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this Nation, under God, shall have a new birth of Freedom — and that government of the People, by the People, for the People, shall not perish from the earth."
    ~ Abraham Lincoln, The Gettysburg Address (19 November, 1863)
    "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new Nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that Nation or any Nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that Nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow, this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this Nation, under God, shall have a new birth of Freedom — and that government of the People, by the People, for the People, shall not perish from the earth." ~ Abraham Lincoln, The Gettysburg Address (19 November, 1863)
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  • via: Susan Kee - Honoring Korean War Veterans
    ·
    "When you're young, you take more risks, and you are more brave. Maybe, this is why they send young men to war..."
    - Korean War veteran

    This photo of a young American Soldier serving in the Korean War, is a reminder to us of how young they were and also how brave they were. Most of them were about 18 years old and in many cases, they were only 16 or 17 years old.

    Many Korean War Veterans say, "when you're young, you take more risks, you are more brave. Maybe, this is why they send young men to war..."

    Many of these young men admit they did not even know where Korea was when they were sent there.
    Little did they know that the fate of a Nation and its People rested on their shoulders. It is because of their great courage and sacrifices that South Korea and its People were saved from the grips of North Korea's communist regime and South Korea prospers and flourishes in Freedom today.

    Over 70 years later, our Korean War Veterans are now nearing or over 90 years of age. Everyday, there are increasing number of Korean War Veterans passing away and leaving us. Over the last few years I have attended more funerals of Korean War Veterans than ever before. Sadly, I have lost count of how many funerals of Korean War Veterans I have attended in the past 10 years. My heart breaks with the passing of each Korean War hero.

    Time is running out and I feel there is a great urgency to capture and document their stories. Their experiences and stories are important pieces of our history that we all should know and pass on to future generations.

    The fact that South Korea is a thriving Free Nation today is only possible because of all who fought and saved her from communist tyranny during the Korean War. This incredible legacy of these young men who fought with great courage and gave their lives to save a nation from communist oppression, should never be forgotten.

    Over 36,000 Americans sacrificed their lives and over 8,000 became Missing in Action with thousands others from other United Nations countries who laid down their lives to save South Korea and its People.
    I am among the millions of Koreans who live in Freedom today because of their tremendous sacrifices. We, Koreans can never Thank them enough and we will never be able to repay all that was sacrificed for us.

    I believe the best way we can thank and honor them is to learn their stories and make them known. Many Korean War Veterans say to me, "the Korean War is forgotten, no one knows anything about it." So, I challenge every Korean War Veteran to do something to change that. The way that our Korean War Veterans can make sure that the Korean War is not forgotten, is to share their stories and teach the rest of us, of what happened.

    70 years later, I thank God that I, a Korean American woman, can meet these very heroes who saved my family, and my birth country and learn their amazing stories. Since 2012, I have interviewed hundreds of Korean War Veterans and everything I share with you on this Facebook page is a result of what I have learned from them. Our Korean War Veterans have been my greatest teachers of Korean War history. Our Korean War Veterans will continue to be my inspiration and I will continue to share their incredible stories with you, as my way of Honoring and Thanking them.

    I encourage all of you who have a Korean War Veteran as a family member or friend, to please seek the Veteran and ask him if he would share anything of his Korean War experiences. Their stories are important history that should be remembered.

    This post is dedicated with utmost gratitude to all the young men from the US and United Nations countries, who risked their lives and gave their lives in the Korean War.

    May these Heroes, their stories and their legacies, never be forgotten. With everlasting Love, Gratitude and Respect to my greatest heroes, Susan Kee - Honoring Korean War Veterans

    PHOTO CAPTION:
    "American Soldier scans the area in front of his Observation Post on the front line somewhere in Korea. July 29th, 1950." (Photo Credit: U.S. Army)

    #koreanwar #koreanwarveterans #koreanwarheroes #freedom #freedomisnotfree #neverforgotten
    via: Susan Kee - Honoring Korean War Veterans · "When you're young, you take more risks, and you are more brave. Maybe, this is why they send young men to war..." - Korean War veteran This photo of a young American Soldier serving in the Korean War, is a reminder to us of how young they were and also how brave they were. Most of them were about 18 years old and in many cases, they were only 16 or 17 years old. Many Korean War Veterans say, "when you're young, you take more risks, you are more brave. Maybe, this is why they send young men to war..." Many of these young men admit they did not even know where Korea was when they were sent there. Little did they know that the fate of a Nation and its People rested on their shoulders. It is because of their great courage and sacrifices that South Korea and its People were saved from the grips of North Korea's communist regime and South Korea prospers and flourishes in Freedom today. Over 70 years later, our Korean War Veterans are now nearing or over 90 years of age. Everyday, there are increasing number of Korean War Veterans passing away and leaving us. Over the last few years I have attended more funerals of Korean War Veterans than ever before. Sadly, I have lost count of how many funerals of Korean War Veterans I have attended in the past 10 years. My heart breaks with the passing of each Korean War hero. Time is running out and I feel there is a great urgency to capture and document their stories. Their experiences and stories are important pieces of our history that we all should know and pass on to future generations. The fact that South Korea is a thriving Free Nation today is only possible because of all who fought and saved her from communist tyranny during the Korean War. This incredible legacy of these young men who fought with great courage and gave their lives to save a nation from communist oppression, should never be forgotten. Over 36,000 Americans sacrificed their lives and over 8,000 became Missing in Action with thousands others from other United Nations countries who laid down their lives to save South Korea and its People. I am among the millions of Koreans who live in Freedom today because of their tremendous sacrifices. We, Koreans can never Thank them enough and we will never be able to repay all that was sacrificed for us. I believe the best way we can thank and honor them is to learn their stories and make them known. Many Korean War Veterans say to me, "the Korean War is forgotten, no one knows anything about it." So, I challenge every Korean War Veteran to do something to change that. The way that our Korean War Veterans can make sure that the Korean War is not forgotten, is to share their stories and teach the rest of us, of what happened. 70 years later, I thank God that I, a Korean American woman, can meet these very heroes who saved my family, and my birth country and learn their amazing stories. Since 2012, I have interviewed hundreds of Korean War Veterans and everything I share with you on this Facebook page is a result of what I have learned from them. Our Korean War Veterans have been my greatest teachers of Korean War history. Our Korean War Veterans will continue to be my inspiration and I will continue to share their incredible stories with you, as my way of Honoring and Thanking them. I encourage all of you who have a Korean War Veteran as a family member or friend, to please seek the Veteran and ask him if he would share anything of his Korean War experiences. Their stories are important history that should be remembered. This post is dedicated with utmost gratitude to all the young men from the US and United Nations countries, who risked their lives and gave their lives in the Korean War. May these Heroes, their stories and their legacies, never be forgotten. With everlasting Love, Gratitude and Respect to my greatest heroes, Susan Kee - Honoring Korean War Veterans PHOTO CAPTION: "American Soldier scans the area in front of his Observation Post on the front line somewhere in Korea. July 29th, 1950." (Photo Credit: U.S. Army) #koreanwar #koreanwarveterans #koreanwarheroes #freedom #freedomisnotfree #neverforgotten
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  • Worth a read...

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

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

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

    SALUTE!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Enough said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Worth a read... Strong words from Soldiers such as Willy McTear come in Loud and Clear to Leaders, if they have the stones to face such realities and they provide us, as a Nation, with some Hard Truths that must be heard/faced. How our Vietnam Veterans were treated upon their return from the green hell of that conflict is something every American who is worthy of such a title should be ashamed of. That must Never happen again... it is Ok, and Right even to hate War (I know that first hand), but when we hate Our Warriors, well, that Must Never Happen Again... May God Bless our Vietnam Veterans, May He bring them a calm to their heads and hearts from such memories, and grant them Peace for the rest of their days - we must Never Forget how we treated them upon their return to our Homeland, ever... SALUTE! via: The Giant Killer · Powerful words from a Vietnam vet! Photo of Willie McTear, McTear served in Charlie Company of the Army 9th Division's 4th Battalion, 47th Infantry Regiment, 1967. McTear gives his opinion of the draft, the brotherhood of war, and what it was like to be spit on & cursed at upon his return from Nam. "I’m just one of the approximate 9,000 men who were drafted and made up the Ninth Infantry Division. This is my opinion based on my personal experience. We, the draftees, were designated well in advance for the Ninth Division to occupy the Mekong Delta. We fought in the most difficult terrain in all of South Vietnam: jungles, mud and swamps. The only volunteers were the officers. The rest of the entire division, with exception of some non-commissioned officers, were draftees. I was in one of the first integrated companies of all draftees. We had the best officer, Jack Benedict. Rest In Peace. Each patrol was a suicide mission. We would have liked the choice to choose the branch of service and a Military Occupational Speciality. But that was not an option for draftees, only a carrot that was dangled to get us to enlist. We viewed this as punishment for not volunteering. We all gave some and some gave all. R.I.P. After several firefights we realized how the draft board and America really felt about us. Sergeant Bill Reynolds said it best. “America is not with us.” Enough said. Without a word said, we understood that we had a special bond and from this point on we will fight for each other because we had been abandoned. More abandonment was revealed and manifested upon our arrival home, not as heroes but as villains. We were spat on and cursed at. Our government didn’t have the decency to give us a heads up upon our arrival. That hurt really deep. The wounds inflicted are invisible and manifested in many ways. Many of us grapple with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and a sense of not belonging and not being good enough to be accepted as Soldiers. So thank you draft board for souls lost and lives destroyed beyond repair. I try not to remember the suffering you inflicted upon us, but remember our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility and the courage to endure past and current hardships. I think I can speak for the Ninth Division, 4th Battalion, 47th Infantry and especially Charlie Company. God did through Andrew Wiest what we could not do for ourselves when he wrote the book, The Boys of ’67: Charlie Company’s War in Vietnam. Writer and arm-chair general Abigail Pfeiffer said it best: “Wiest addresses the ugliness and humanity of war but also the loving bonds that are created between Men who experienced war together and the indelible marks it leaves on their minds.” And a big thank you to National Geographic for “Brothers in War,” for bringing The Boys of ’67 to life with that documentary, the story of Charlie Company. To the draft board, we forgive you, but we hope and pray the draft board will be eliminated." - Willie McTear The Giant Killer book & page honors these incredible war heroes making sure their stories of valor and sacrifice are never forgotten. The book which features the incredible life of the smallest soldier, Green Beret Captain Richard Flaherty (101st Airborne & 3rd SF Group 46th Co.) and several of the other heroes featured on this page is available on Amazon & Walmart. God Bless our Vets!
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  • via: Hurlburt Field

    They call him "The Godfather" in the Air Force Special Tactics community. As a member of the Air Commando Association Hall of Fame and someone who spent 50 years with the United States Air Force, we can't think of anyone better to honor as our #CaptivatingCommando for #VeteransDay2016.
    https://www.facebook.com/1SOW.HurlburtField/videos/1280935288594708
    Check out the video to hear his story as part of the 2016 Veterans In Blue Campaign. Airman Magazine
    via: Hurlburt Field They call him "The Godfather" in the Air Force Special Tactics community. As a member of the Air Commando Association Hall of Fame and someone who spent 50 years with the United States Air Force, we can't think of anyone better to honor as our #CaptivatingCommando for #VeteransDay2016. https://www.facebook.com/1SOW.HurlburtField/videos/1280935288594708 Check out the video to hear his story as part of the 2016 Veterans In Blue Campaign. Airman Magazine
    WWW.FACEBOOK.COM
    They call him "The Godfather" in the Air Force Special Tactics community. As a member of the Air Commando Association Hall of Fame and someone who spent... | By Hurlburt Field
    They call him "The Godfather" in the Air Force Special Tactics community. As a member of the Air Commando Association Hall of Fame and someone who spent...
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  • via: Historia Obscurum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    It was during that ceremony that this photo was taken.

    Semper Fidelis.

    * Although the claim often is made that he actually was only 15, every official document (including his obituary) I've been able to locate puts his d.o.b. as 2/14/1928, which would have made him 17 in 1945. If someone has a primary-source document with a different d.o.b., please send it to me.
    via: Historia Obscurum You might not know it to look at him, but the "little old man" in the center of this photo was one of the toughest Jarheads ever. In 1942 when he was only 14, Jacklyn "Jack" Lucas enlisted in the Marine Corps after convincing the recruiter he was 17. Posted to a depot unit at Pearl Harbor, Jack was bored and wanted action, so in January of 1945, he rolled up a combat uniform under his arm, sneaked out of camp, and stowed away aboard a Naval Transport that was taking 1st Battalion, 26th Marines, 5th Marine Division to Iwo Jima. Not knowing what to do with him, the Marine battalion commander busted Jack one rank, then assigned him as rifleman to C Company. A few days later, Jack turned 17.* The day after landing on Iwo Jima, Jack dove on top of one Japanese grenade then pulled another beneath him. The blast ripped through his body, but saved his comrades. It took 21 surgeries to save him, and for the rest of his life carried in his body more than 200 large pieces of shrapnel. On October 5th, 1945, Jack Lucas received the Medal of Honor from President Harry Truman in a ceremony on the White House lawn. He is the youngest Marine ever to receive the nation's highest honor. He then returned to high school.... as a freshman. After college, Jack entered the Army as a Captain in the 82nd Airborne, and survived a training jump in which neither his main chute nor his reserve chute opened. Two years before he died in 2008, Jack was honored by the Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Michael W. Hagee, who presented him with a Medal of Honor ceremonial flag at the Marine Barracks in Washington, D.C. It was during that ceremony that this photo was taken. Semper Fidelis. * Although the claim often is made that he actually was only 15, every official document (including his obituary) I've been able to locate puts his d.o.b. as 2/14/1928, which would have made him 17 in 1945. If someone has a primary-source document with a different d.o.b., please send it to me.
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  • Don’t feel sorry for or fear for your kids/grandchildren because the world they are going to grow up in is not what it used to be.

    God created them and called them for the exact moment in time that they’re in. Their life wasn’t a coincidence or an accident anymore, or less, than yours.

    Raise them up to know the power they walk in as children of God.

    Train them up in the authority of His Word.

    Teach them to walk in faith knowing that God is in control.

    Empower them to know they can change the world.

    Don’t teach them to be fearful and disheartened by the state of the world, but hopeful that they can do something about it.

    Every person in all of history has been placed in the time that they were in because of God’s sovereign plan.
    He knew Daniel could handle the lions den.
    He knew David could handle Goliath.
    He knew Esther could handle Haman.
    He knew Peter could handle persecution.

    He knows that your child can handle whatever challenge they face in their life. He created them specifically for it!

    Don’t be scared for your children, but be honored that God chose YOU to parent the generation that is facing the biggest challenges of our lifetime.

    Rise up to the challenge.

    Raise Daniels, Davids, Esthers, and Peters!

    God isn’t scratching His head wondering what He’s going to do with this mess of a world.

    He has an army He’s raising up to drive back the darkness and make Him known all over the earth.

    Don’t let your fear steal the greatness God placed in them. I know it’s hard to imagine them as anything besides our sweet little babies, and we just want to protect them from anything that could ever be hard on them, but they were born for such a time as this.
    ~ Alex Cravens

    #CarryTheLight
    Don’t feel sorry for or fear for your kids/grandchildren because the world they are going to grow up in is not what it used to be. God created them and called them for the exact moment in time that they’re in. Their life wasn’t a coincidence or an accident anymore, or less, than yours. Raise them up to know the power they walk in as children of God. Train them up in the authority of His Word. Teach them to walk in faith knowing that God is in control. Empower them to know they can change the world. Don’t teach them to be fearful and disheartened by the state of the world, but hopeful that they can do something about it. Every person in all of history has been placed in the time that they were in because of God’s sovereign plan. He knew Daniel could handle the lions den. He knew David could handle Goliath. He knew Esther could handle Haman. He knew Peter could handle persecution. He knows that your child can handle whatever challenge they face in their life. He created them specifically for it! Don’t be scared for your children, but be honored that God chose YOU to parent the generation that is facing the biggest challenges of our lifetime. Rise up to the challenge. Raise Daniels, Davids, Esthers, and Peters! God isn’t scratching His head wondering what He’s going to do with this mess of a world. He has an army He’s raising up to drive back the darkness and make Him known all over the earth. Don’t let your fear steal the greatness God placed in them. I know it’s hard to imagine them as anything besides our sweet little babies, and we just want to protect them from anything that could ever be hard on them, but they were born for such a time as this. ~ Alex Cravens #CarryTheLight
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  • Retired Chief Petty Officer David Goggins is the only person to ever complete US Army Ranger School, US Air Force Tactical Control Party Training, and US Navy Seal Training. Individually, each of these training programs are nearly impossible to complete. He not only completed the training, but served honorably, completing numerous combat missions in each capacity. David Goggins is an American hero and we may never know the true extent of all he has done for our country. He is a Guinness World Record holder and widely regarded as “the baddest man on the planet”. We salute you!!!
    Retired Chief Petty Officer David Goggins is the only person to ever complete US Army Ranger School, US Air Force Tactical Control Party Training, and US Navy Seal Training. Individually, each of these training programs are nearly impossible to complete. He not only completed the training, but served honorably, completing numerous combat missions in each capacity. David Goggins is an American hero and we may never know the true extent of all he has done for our country. He is a Guinness World Record holder and widely regarded as “the baddest man on the planet”. We salute you!!!
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  • National Memorial Day Concert (PBS)
    The Inspirational Story of Ted Strong, Vietnam Veteran (Presented by Laurence Fishburne):

    Once a 220-pound linebacker, Ted Strong returned from the Vietnam War wounded and emaciated, missing his right arm and left leg, but his fighting spirit was intact. 47 years later, his words were etched into glass panels of the Disabled Veterans' Life Memorial, which reads “It's possible for a man to lose half of his physical being and still become whole.” His moving story of living with disability and becoming the man he is today was shared by Laurence Fishburne at the 2015 National Memorial Day Concert.

    We are honored to share his story with you:
    https://www.facebook.com/memorialdayconcert/videos/925278168131227

    #BlackHistoryMonth #VietnamVeteran #Inspirational
    National Memorial Day Concert (PBS) The Inspirational Story of Ted Strong, Vietnam Veteran (Presented by Laurence Fishburne): Once a 220-pound linebacker, Ted Strong returned from the Vietnam War wounded and emaciated, missing his right arm and left leg, but his fighting spirit was intact. 47 years later, his words were etched into glass panels of the Disabled Veterans' Life Memorial, which reads “It's possible for a man to lose half of his physical being and still become whole.” His moving story of living with disability and becoming the man he is today was shared by Laurence Fishburne at the 2015 National Memorial Day Concert. We are honored to share his story with you: https://www.facebook.com/memorialdayconcert/videos/925278168131227 #BlackHistoryMonth #VietnamVeteran #Inspirational
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  • Fallen Yet Not Forgotten
    - February 13, 2022

    This photo, taken on January 30, 1945, shows Robert Prince, a Captain of the Army's elite 6th Ranger Battalion. He was chosen by Lt. Col. Henry Mucci to plan and lead the rescue of 500+ POWs at Cabanatuan POW camp in the Philippines. To date, it remains the most successful rescue mission in US Military history. The Raid at Cabanatuan was depicted in the 1945 film "Back to Bataan" and the 2005 film "The Great Raid that featured James Franco playing Prince.

    For his heroic actions, Capt. Robert Prince was awarded the second-highest award for valor, the Distinguished Service Cross. He survived the war and went home. This true American hero passed away on January 1, 2009, at age of 89.

    We salute and honor his service!
    https://fallenyetnotforgotten.com
    Fallen Yet Not Forgotten - February 13, 2022 This photo, taken on January 30, 1945, shows Robert Prince, a Captain of the Army's elite 6th Ranger Battalion. He was chosen by Lt. Col. Henry Mucci to plan and lead the rescue of 500+ POWs at Cabanatuan POW camp in the Philippines. To date, it remains the most successful rescue mission in US Military history. The Raid at Cabanatuan was depicted in the 1945 film "Back to Bataan" and the 2005 film "The Great Raid that featured James Franco playing Prince. For his heroic actions, Capt. Robert Prince was awarded the second-highest award for valor, the Distinguished Service Cross. He survived the war and went home. This true American hero passed away on January 1, 2009, at age of 89. We salute and honor his service! 🇺🇸 https://fallenyetnotforgotten.com
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  • U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs
    - February 13, 2014

    Today's Veteran of the Day is Jacob Parrott.
    Jacob was awarded the first Medal of Honor on Feb. 13, 1863. He joined the U.S. Army in 1861.
    In April 1862, Jacob volunteered to take part in a daring raid with twenty-one others. After infiltrating Confederate lines and hijacking the locomotive "General," they were captured and imprisoned. Jacob was severely beaten 110 times in an attempt to make him talk. He and fourteen others managed to escape, but only six of them reached friendly lines. Jacob was later exchanged and taken to Washington, D.C. to meet President Lincoln and was presented with the Medal of Honor by Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton. He served with the Union Army for the rest of the war.

    We honor his service.
    U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs - February 13, 2014 Today's Veteran of the Day is Jacob Parrott. Jacob was awarded the first Medal of Honor on Feb. 13, 1863. He joined the U.S. Army in 1861. In April 1862, Jacob volunteered to take part in a daring raid with twenty-one others. After infiltrating Confederate lines and hijacking the locomotive "General," they were captured and imprisoned. Jacob was severely beaten 110 times in an attempt to make him talk. He and fourteen others managed to escape, but only six of them reached friendly lines. Jacob was later exchanged and taken to Washington, D.C. to meet President Lincoln and was presented with the Medal of Honor by Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton. He served with the Union Army for the rest of the war. We honor his service.
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  • It was an honor to be a guest on the 10X Your Team with Cam & Otis podcast! Please check out the latest issue and remember to like and subscribe to the podcast while you are there! Thank you to Cam and Otis for having me on! Cam & Otis talk about #leadership, #veterans, #business, and #coaching. They also have a free weekly newsletter you can sign up for. https://youtu.be/YUhaRXEbWDM?si=Wy7d6BIxSvwrdICp
    It was an honor to be a guest on the 10X Your Team with Cam & Otis podcast! Please check out the latest issue and remember to like and subscribe to the podcast while you are there! Thank you to Cam and Otis for having me on! Cam & Otis talk about #leadership, #veterans, #business, and #coaching. They also have a free weekly newsletter you can sign up for. https://youtu.be/YUhaRXEbWDM?si=Wy7d6BIxSvwrdICp
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  • 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."
    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."
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  • The Founding of the United States:

    On This Day in History > January 25, 1776, the first national memorial is ordered by Congress.

    "On January 25, 1776, the Continental Congress authorizes the first national Revolutionary War memorial in honor of Brigadier General Richard Montgomery, who had been killed during an assault on Quebec on December 31, 1775.

    Montgomery, along with Benedict Arnold, led a two-pronged invasion of Canada in late 1775. Before joining Arnold at Quebec, Montgomery successfully took Montreal. But the Patriot assault on Quebec failed, and Montgomery became one of the first generals of the American Revolution to lose his life on the battlefield.

    When word of his death reached Philadelphia, Congress voted to create a monument to Montgomery’s memory and entrusted Benjamin Franklin to secure one of France’s best artists to craft it. Franklin hired King Louis XV’s personal sculptor, Jean Jacques Caffieri, to design and build the monument.

    Upon its completion in 1778, the Montgomery memorial was shipped to America and arrived at Edenton, North Carolina, where it remained for several years. Although originally intended for Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Congress eventually decided to place the memorial in New York City. In 1788, it was installed under the direction of Major Pierre Charles L’Enfant beneath the portico of St. Paul’s Chapel, which served as George Washington’s church during his time in New York as the United States’ first president in 1789, and where it remains to this day. Montgomery’s body, which was originally interred on the site of his death in Quebec, was moved to St. Paul’s in 1818."
    ____________________________________________________________________
    Today's Inspirational Quote from Our Flag
    ​"He was brave, he was able, he was humane, he was generous, but still, he was only a brave, able, humane, and generous REBEL."
    - Stated by British Prime Minister Lord North upon hearing of General Montgomery's death in battle. Obviously, Lord North was upset that this long ago British soldier had decided to leave the British Army and join the cause for independence of the American colonies

    Painting by John Trumbull of General Montgomery being killed during the 1775 attack on Quebec
    The Founding of the United States: On This Day in History > January 25, 1776, the first national memorial is ordered by Congress. "On January 25, 1776, the Continental Congress authorizes the first national Revolutionary War memorial in honor of Brigadier General Richard Montgomery, who had been killed during an assault on Quebec on December 31, 1775. Montgomery, along with Benedict Arnold, led a two-pronged invasion of Canada in late 1775. Before joining Arnold at Quebec, Montgomery successfully took Montreal. But the Patriot assault on Quebec failed, and Montgomery became one of the first generals of the American Revolution to lose his life on the battlefield. When word of his death reached Philadelphia, Congress voted to create a monument to Montgomery’s memory and entrusted Benjamin Franklin to secure one of France’s best artists to craft it. Franklin hired King Louis XV’s personal sculptor, Jean Jacques Caffieri, to design and build the monument. Upon its completion in 1778, the Montgomery memorial was shipped to America and arrived at Edenton, North Carolina, where it remained for several years. Although originally intended for Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Congress eventually decided to place the memorial in New York City. In 1788, it was installed under the direction of Major Pierre Charles L’Enfant beneath the portico of St. Paul’s Chapel, which served as George Washington’s church during his time in New York as the United States’ first president in 1789, and where it remains to this day. Montgomery’s body, which was originally interred on the site of his death in Quebec, was moved to St. Paul’s in 1818." ____________________________________________________________________ Today's Inspirational Quote from Our Flag ​"He was brave, he was able, he was humane, he was generous, but still, he was only a brave, able, humane, and generous REBEL." - Stated by British Prime Minister Lord North upon hearing of General Montgomery's death in battle. Obviously, Lord North was upset that this long ago British soldier had decided to leave the British Army and join the cause for independence of the American colonies Painting by John Trumbull of General Montgomery being killed during the 1775 attack on Quebec
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  • https://www.facebook.com/OpHonorThem/photos/a.103253516444660/172479452855399
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  • LESSONS IN LEADERSHIP: From a Janitor
    By Colonel James E. Moschgat, Commander of the 12th Operations Group, 12th Flying Training Wing, Randolph Air Force Base, Texas

    William “Bill” Crawford certainly was an unimpressive figure, one you could easily overlook during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Mr. Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our squadron janitor.

    While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic events, Saturday morning parades and room inspections, or never-ending leadership classes, Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up the mess 100 college-age kids can leave in a dormitory. Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, “G’morning!” in his direction as we hurried off to our daily duties.

    Why? Perhaps it was because of the way he did his job-he always kept the squadron area spotlessly clean, even the toilets and showers gleamed. Frankly, he did his job so well, none of us had to notice or get involved.

    After all, cleaning toilets was his job, not ours. Maybe it was is physical appearance that made him disappear into the background. Bill didn’t move very quickly and, in fact, you could say he even shuffled a bit, as if he suffered from some sort of injury. His gray hair and wrinkled face made him appear ancient to a group of young cadets. And his crooked smile, well, it looked a little funny. Face it, Bill was an old man working in a young person’s world. What did he have to offer us on a personal level?

    Finally, maybe it was Mr. Crawford’s personality that rendered him almost invisible to the young people around him. Bill was shy, almost painfully so. He seldom spoke to a cadet unless they addressed him first, and that didn’t happen very often. Our janitor always buried himself in his work, moving about with stooped shoulders, a quiet gait, and an averted gaze. If he noticed the hustle and bustle of cadet life around him, it was hard to tell. So, for whatever reason, Bill blended into the woodwork and became just another fixture around the squadron. The Academy, one of our nation’s premier leadership laboratories, kept us busy from dawn till dusk. And Mr. Crawford...well, he was just a janitor.

    That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976. I was reading a book about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I stumbled across an incredible story. On September 13, 1943, a Private William Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy. The words on the page leapt out at me: “in the face of intense and overwhelming hostile fire... with no regard for personal safety... on his own initiative, Private Crawford single-handedly attacked fortified enemy positions.” It continued, “for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, the President of the United States...”

    “Holy cow,” I said to my roommate, “you’re not going to believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner.” We all knew Mr. Crawford was a WWII Army vet, but that didn’t keep my friend from looking at me as if I was some sort of alien being. Nonetheless, we couldn’t wait to ask Bill about the story on Monday. We met Mr. Crawford bright and early Monday and showed him the page in question from the book, anticipation and doubt in our faces. He starred at it for a few silent moments and then quietly uttered something like, “Yep, that’s me.”

    Mouths agape, my roommate and I looked at one another, then at the book, and quickly back at our janitor.

    Almost at once we both stuttered, “Why didn’t you ever tell us about it?” He slowly replied after some thought,

    “That was one day in my life and it happened a long time ago.”

    I guess we were all at a loss for words after that. We had to hurry off to class and Bill, well, he had chores to attend to. However, after that brief exchange, things were never again the same around our squadron. Word spread like wildfire among the cadets that we had a hero in our midst-Mr. Crawford, our janitor, had won the Medal! Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him with a smile and a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Crawford.”

    Those who had before left a mess for the “janitor” to clean up started taking it upon themselves to put things in order. Most cadets routinely stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day and we even began inviting him to our formal squadron functions. He’d show up dressed in a conservative dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of his heroics being a simple blue, star-spangled lapel pin.

    Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron to one of our teammates. Mr. Crawford changed too, but you had to look closely to notice the difference. After that fall day in 1976, he seemed to move with more purpose, his shoulders didn’t seem to be as stooped, he met our greetings with a direct gaze and a stronger “good morning” in return, and he flashed his crooked smile more often. The squadron gleamed as always, but everyone now seemed to notice it more. Bill even got to know most of us by our first names, something that didn’t happen often at the Academy. While no one ever formally acknowledged the change, I think we became Bill’s cadets and his squadron.

    As often happens in life, events sweep us away from those in our past. The last time I saw Bill was on graduation day in June 1977. As I walked out of the squadron for the last time, he shook my hand and simply said, “Good luck, young man.” With that, I embarked on a career that has been truly lucky and blessed. Mr. Crawford continued to work at the Academy and eventually retired in his native Colorado where he resides today, one of four Medal of Honor winners living in a small town.

    A wise person once said, “It’s not life that’s important, but those you meet along the way that make the difference.” Bill was one who made a difference for me. While I haven’t seen Mr. Crawford in over twenty years, he’d probably be surprised to know I think of him often. Bill Crawford, our janitor, taught me many valuable, unforgettable leadership lessons. Here are ten I’d like to share with you.

    1. Be Cautious of Labels. Labels you place on people may define your relationship to them and bound their potential. Sadly, and for a long time, we labeled Bill as just a janitor, but he was so much more. Therefore, be cautious of a leader who callously says, “Hey, he’s just an Airman.” Likewise, don’t tolerate the O-1, who says, “I can’t do that, I’m just a lieutenant.”

    2. Everyone Deserves Respect. Because we hung the “janitor” label on Mr. Crawford, we often wrongly treated him with less respect than others around us. He deserved much more, and not just because he was a Medal of Honor winner. Bill deserved respect because he was a janitor, walked among us, and was a part of our team.

    3. Courtesy Makes a Difference. Be courteous to all around you, regardless of rank or position. Military customs, as well as common courtesies, help bond a team. When our daily words to Mr. Crawford turned from perfunctory “hellos” to heartfelt greetings, his demeanor and personality outwardly changed. It made a difference for all of us.

    4. Take Time to Know Your People. Life in the military is hectic, but that’s no excuse for not knowing the people you work for and with. For years a hero walked among us at the Academy and we never knew it. Who are the heroes that walk in your midst?

    5. Anyone Can Be a Hero. Mr. Crawford certainly didn’t fit anyone’s standard definition of a hero. Moreover, he was just a private on the day he won his Medal. Don’t sell your people short, for any one of them may be the hero who rises to the occasion when duty calls. On the other hand, it’s easy to turn to your proven performers when the chips are down, but don’t ignore the rest of the team. Today’s rookie could and should be tomorrow’s superstar.

    6. Leaders Should Be Humble. Most modern day heroes and some leaders are anything but humble, especially if you calibrate your “hero meter” on today’s athletic fields. End zone celebrations and self-aggrandizement are what we’ve come to expect from sports greats. Not Mr. Crawford-he was too busy working to celebrate his past heroics. Leaders would be well-served to do the same.

    7. Life Won’t Always Hand You What You Think You Deserve. We in the military work hard and, dang it, we deserve recognition, right? However, sometimes you just have to persevere, even when accolades don’t come your way. Perhaps you weren’t nominated for junior officer or airman of the quarter as you thought you should - don’t let that stop you.

    8. Don’t pursue glory; pursue excellence. Private Bill Crawford didn’t pursue glory; he did his duty and then swept floors for a living. No job is beneath a Leader. If Bill Crawford, a Medal of Honor winner, could clean latrines and smile, is there a job beneath your dignity? Think about it.

    9. Pursue Excellence. No matter what task life hands you, do it well. Dr. Martin Luther King said, “If life makes you a street sweeper, be the best street sweeper you can be.” Mr. Crawford modeled that philosophy and helped make our dormitory area a home.

    10. Life is a Leadership Laboratory. All too often we look to some school or PME class to teach us about leadership when, in fact, life is a leadership laboratory. Those you meet everyday will teach you enduring lessons if you just take time to stop, look and listen. I spent four years at the Air Force Academy, took dozens of classes, read hundreds of books, and met thousands of great people. I gleaned leadership skills from all of them, but one of the people I remember most is Mr. Bill Crawford and the lessons he unknowingly taught. Don’t miss your opportunity to learn.

    Bill Crawford was a janitor. However, he was also a teacher, friend, role model and one great American hero. Thanks, Mr. Crawford, for some valuable leadership lessons.

    Dale Pyeatt, Executive Director of the National Guard Association of Texas, comments: And now, for the “rest of the story”: Pvt William John Crawford was a platoon scout for 3rd Platoon of Company L 1 42nd Regiment 36th Division (Texas National Guard) and won the Medal Of Honor for his actions on Hill 424, just 4 days after the invasion at Salerno.

    On Hill 424, Pvt Crawford took out 3 enemy machine guns before darkness fell, halting the platoon’s advance.
    Pvt Crawford could not be found and was assumed dead. The request for his MOH was quickly approved.

    Major General Terry Allen presented the posthumous MOH to Bill Crawford’s father, George, on 11 May 1944 in Camp (now Fort) Carson, near Pueblo. Nearly two months after that, it was learned that Pvt Crawford was alive in a POW camp in Germany. During his captivity, a German guard clubbed him with his rifle. Bill overpowered him, took the rifle away, and beat the guard unconscious. A German doctor’s testimony saved him from severe punishment, perhaps death. To stay ahead of the advancing Russian army, the prisoners were marched 500 miles in 52 days in the middle of the German winter, subsisting on one potato a day. An allied tank column liberated the camp in the spring of 1945, and Pvt Crawford took his first hot shower in 18 months on VE Day. Pvt Crawford stayed in the army before retiring as a MSG and becoming a janitor. In 1984, President Ronald Reagan officially presented the MOH to Bill Crawford.

    William Crawford passed away in 2000. He is the only U.S. Army veteran and sole Medal of Honor winner to be buried in the cemetery of the U.S. Air Force Academy.
    LESSONS IN LEADERSHIP: From a Janitor By Colonel James E. Moschgat, Commander of the 12th Operations Group, 12th Flying Training Wing, Randolph Air Force Base, Texas William “Bill” Crawford certainly was an unimpressive figure, one you could easily overlook during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Mr. Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our squadron janitor. While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic events, Saturday morning parades and room inspections, or never-ending leadership classes, Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up the mess 100 college-age kids can leave in a dormitory. Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, “G’morning!” in his direction as we hurried off to our daily duties. Why? Perhaps it was because of the way he did his job-he always kept the squadron area spotlessly clean, even the toilets and showers gleamed. Frankly, he did his job so well, none of us had to notice or get involved. After all, cleaning toilets was his job, not ours. Maybe it was is physical appearance that made him disappear into the background. Bill didn’t move very quickly and, in fact, you could say he even shuffled a bit, as if he suffered from some sort of injury. His gray hair and wrinkled face made him appear ancient to a group of young cadets. And his crooked smile, well, it looked a little funny. Face it, Bill was an old man working in a young person’s world. What did he have to offer us on a personal level? Finally, maybe it was Mr. Crawford’s personality that rendered him almost invisible to the young people around him. Bill was shy, almost painfully so. He seldom spoke to a cadet unless they addressed him first, and that didn’t happen very often. Our janitor always buried himself in his work, moving about with stooped shoulders, a quiet gait, and an averted gaze. If he noticed the hustle and bustle of cadet life around him, it was hard to tell. So, for whatever reason, Bill blended into the woodwork and became just another fixture around the squadron. The Academy, one of our nation’s premier leadership laboratories, kept us busy from dawn till dusk. And Mr. Crawford...well, he was just a janitor. That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976. I was reading a book about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I stumbled across an incredible story. On September 13, 1943, a Private William Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy. The words on the page leapt out at me: “in the face of intense and overwhelming hostile fire... with no regard for personal safety... on his own initiative, Private Crawford single-handedly attacked fortified enemy positions.” It continued, “for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, the President of the United States...” “Holy cow,” I said to my roommate, “you’re not going to believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner.” We all knew Mr. Crawford was a WWII Army vet, but that didn’t keep my friend from looking at me as if I was some sort of alien being. Nonetheless, we couldn’t wait to ask Bill about the story on Monday. We met Mr. Crawford bright and early Monday and showed him the page in question from the book, anticipation and doubt in our faces. He starred at it for a few silent moments and then quietly uttered something like, “Yep, that’s me.” Mouths agape, my roommate and I looked at one another, then at the book, and quickly back at our janitor. Almost at once we both stuttered, “Why didn’t you ever tell us about it?” He slowly replied after some thought, “That was one day in my life and it happened a long time ago.” I guess we were all at a loss for words after that. We had to hurry off to class and Bill, well, he had chores to attend to. However, after that brief exchange, things were never again the same around our squadron. Word spread like wildfire among the cadets that we had a hero in our midst-Mr. Crawford, our janitor, had won the Medal! Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him with a smile and a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Crawford.” Those who had before left a mess for the “janitor” to clean up started taking it upon themselves to put things in order. Most cadets routinely stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day and we even began inviting him to our formal squadron functions. He’d show up dressed in a conservative dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of his heroics being a simple blue, star-spangled lapel pin. Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron to one of our teammates. Mr. Crawford changed too, but you had to look closely to notice the difference. After that fall day in 1976, he seemed to move with more purpose, his shoulders didn’t seem to be as stooped, he met our greetings with a direct gaze and a stronger “good morning” in return, and he flashed his crooked smile more often. The squadron gleamed as always, but everyone now seemed to notice it more. Bill even got to know most of us by our first names, something that didn’t happen often at the Academy. While no one ever formally acknowledged the change, I think we became Bill’s cadets and his squadron. As often happens in life, events sweep us away from those in our past. The last time I saw Bill was on graduation day in June 1977. As I walked out of the squadron for the last time, he shook my hand and simply said, “Good luck, young man.” With that, I embarked on a career that has been truly lucky and blessed. Mr. Crawford continued to work at the Academy and eventually retired in his native Colorado where he resides today, one of four Medal of Honor winners living in a small town. A wise person once said, “It’s not life that’s important, but those you meet along the way that make the difference.” Bill was one who made a difference for me. While I haven’t seen Mr. Crawford in over twenty years, he’d probably be surprised to know I think of him often. Bill Crawford, our janitor, taught me many valuable, unforgettable leadership lessons. Here are ten I’d like to share with you. 1. Be Cautious of Labels. Labels you place on people may define your relationship to them and bound their potential. Sadly, and for a long time, we labeled Bill as just a janitor, but he was so much more. Therefore, be cautious of a leader who callously says, “Hey, he’s just an Airman.” Likewise, don’t tolerate the O-1, who says, “I can’t do that, I’m just a lieutenant.” 2. Everyone Deserves Respect. Because we hung the “janitor” label on Mr. Crawford, we often wrongly treated him with less respect than others around us. He deserved much more, and not just because he was a Medal of Honor winner. Bill deserved respect because he was a janitor, walked among us, and was a part of our team. 3. Courtesy Makes a Difference. Be courteous to all around you, regardless of rank or position. Military customs, as well as common courtesies, help bond a team. When our daily words to Mr. Crawford turned from perfunctory “hellos” to heartfelt greetings, his demeanor and personality outwardly changed. It made a difference for all of us. 4. Take Time to Know Your People. Life in the military is hectic, but that’s no excuse for not knowing the people you work for and with. For years a hero walked among us at the Academy and we never knew it. Who are the heroes that walk in your midst? 5. Anyone Can Be a Hero. Mr. Crawford certainly didn’t fit anyone’s standard definition of a hero. Moreover, he was just a private on the day he won his Medal. Don’t sell your people short, for any one of them may be the hero who rises to the occasion when duty calls. On the other hand, it’s easy to turn to your proven performers when the chips are down, but don’t ignore the rest of the team. Today’s rookie could and should be tomorrow’s superstar. 6. Leaders Should Be Humble. Most modern day heroes and some leaders are anything but humble, especially if you calibrate your “hero meter” on today’s athletic fields. End zone celebrations and self-aggrandizement are what we’ve come to expect from sports greats. Not Mr. Crawford-he was too busy working to celebrate his past heroics. Leaders would be well-served to do the same. 7. Life Won’t Always Hand You What You Think You Deserve. We in the military work hard and, dang it, we deserve recognition, right? However, sometimes you just have to persevere, even when accolades don’t come your way. Perhaps you weren’t nominated for junior officer or airman of the quarter as you thought you should - don’t let that stop you. 8. Don’t pursue glory; pursue excellence. Private Bill Crawford didn’t pursue glory; he did his duty and then swept floors for a living. No job is beneath a Leader. If Bill Crawford, a Medal of Honor winner, could clean latrines and smile, is there a job beneath your dignity? Think about it. 9. Pursue Excellence. No matter what task life hands you, do it well. Dr. Martin Luther King said, “If life makes you a street sweeper, be the best street sweeper you can be.” Mr. Crawford modeled that philosophy and helped make our dormitory area a home. 10. Life is a Leadership Laboratory. All too often we look to some school or PME class to teach us about leadership when, in fact, life is a leadership laboratory. Those you meet everyday will teach you enduring lessons if you just take time to stop, look and listen. I spent four years at the Air Force Academy, took dozens of classes, read hundreds of books, and met thousands of great people. I gleaned leadership skills from all of them, but one of the people I remember most is Mr. Bill Crawford and the lessons he unknowingly taught. Don’t miss your opportunity to learn. Bill Crawford was a janitor. However, he was also a teacher, friend, role model and one great American hero. Thanks, Mr. Crawford, for some valuable leadership lessons. Dale Pyeatt, Executive Director of the National Guard Association of Texas, comments: And now, for the “rest of the story”: Pvt William John Crawford was a platoon scout for 3rd Platoon of Company L 1 42nd Regiment 36th Division (Texas National Guard) and won the Medal Of Honor for his actions on Hill 424, just 4 days after the invasion at Salerno. On Hill 424, Pvt Crawford took out 3 enemy machine guns before darkness fell, halting the platoon’s advance. Pvt Crawford could not be found and was assumed dead. The request for his MOH was quickly approved. Major General Terry Allen presented the posthumous MOH to Bill Crawford’s father, George, on 11 May 1944 in Camp (now Fort) Carson, near Pueblo. Nearly two months after that, it was learned that Pvt Crawford was alive in a POW camp in Germany. During his captivity, a German guard clubbed him with his rifle. Bill overpowered him, took the rifle away, and beat the guard unconscious. A German doctor’s testimony saved him from severe punishment, perhaps death. To stay ahead of the advancing Russian army, the prisoners were marched 500 miles in 52 days in the middle of the German winter, subsisting on one potato a day. An allied tank column liberated the camp in the spring of 1945, and Pvt Crawford took his first hot shower in 18 months on VE Day. Pvt Crawford stayed in the army before retiring as a MSG and becoming a janitor. In 1984, President Ronald Reagan officially presented the MOH to Bill Crawford. William Crawford passed away in 2000. He is the only U.S. Army veteran and sole Medal of Honor winner to be buried in the cemetery of the U.S. Air Force Academy.
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  • Graduated SLC and was recognized as the Distinguished Honor Graduate for my class
    Graduated SLC and was recognized as the Distinguished Honor Graduate for my class
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  • 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
    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
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  • WWII hero, 1SG Leonard A. Funk, LAUGHED his way to earning a Medal of Honor....

    One of the more darkly humorous episodes of warfare occurred on 29 January 1945, in Holzheim, Belgium. Funk and his paratroopers were assaulting the town, and he left a rearguard of 4 men, while he scouted ahead to link up with other units. Those 4 men had to guard about 80 German prisoners. Another German patrol of 10 happened by and overwhelmed the 4 Americans, freeing the prisoners and arming them. When Funk returned around the corner of a building, he was met by a German officer with an MP-40 in his stomach.

    The German shouted something at him, and Funk looked around. There were now about 90 Germans, about half of them armed, and 5 Americans, disarmed except for Funk. The German shouted the same thing at him again, and Funk started laughing. He claimed later that he tried to stop laughing, but the fact that the German was shouting in German touched a nerve. Funk didn’t speak German. Neither did any of the other Americans.

    Why would the German officer expect him to understand? His laughter and non-compliance caused some of the Germans to start laughing. Funk shrugged at them and started laughing so hard he had to bend over. He called to his men, “I don’t understand what he’s saying!” All the while, the German officer was shouting more and more angrily. Then, quick as lightning, Funk swung his Thompson submachine gun up and emptied the entire clip into the German, 30 rounds of .45 ACP. Before the other Germans could react, he had yanked the clip out and slammed another in and opened fire on all of them, screaming to his men to pick up weapons.

    They did so, and proceeded to gun down 20 men. The rest dropped their weapons and put their hands up.
    Then Funk started laughing again and said to his men, “That was the stupidest F*#!?#* thing I’ve ever seen!”

    WWII hero, 1SG Leonard A. Funk, LAUGHED his way to earning a Medal of Honor.... One of the more darkly humorous episodes of warfare occurred on 29 January 1945, in Holzheim, Belgium. Funk and his paratroopers were assaulting the town, and he left a rearguard of 4 men, while he scouted ahead to link up with other units. Those 4 men had to guard about 80 German prisoners. Another German patrol of 10 happened by and overwhelmed the 4 Americans, freeing the prisoners and arming them. When Funk returned around the corner of a building, he was met by a German officer with an MP-40 in his stomach. The German shouted something at him, and Funk looked around. There were now about 90 Germans, about half of them armed, and 5 Americans, disarmed except for Funk. The German shouted the same thing at him again, and Funk started laughing. He claimed later that he tried to stop laughing, but the fact that the German was shouting in German touched a nerve. Funk didn’t speak German. Neither did any of the other Americans. Why would the German officer expect him to understand? His laughter and non-compliance caused some of the Germans to start laughing. Funk shrugged at them and started laughing so hard he had to bend over. He called to his men, “I don’t understand what he’s saying!” All the while, the German officer was shouting more and more angrily. Then, quick as lightning, Funk swung his Thompson submachine gun up and emptied the entire clip into the German, 30 rounds of .45 ACP. Before the other Germans could react, he had yanked the clip out and slammed another in and opened fire on all of them, screaming to his men to pick up weapons. They did so, and proceeded to gun down 20 men. The rest dropped their weapons and put their hands up. Then Funk started laughing again and said to his men, “That was the stupidest F*#!?#* thing I’ve ever seen!”
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  • Happy Angel Birthday to Navy SEAL Tyrone Woods who selflessly sacrificed his life during Benghazi. Please help me honor him so that he is not forgotten.
    Happy Angel Birthday to Navy SEAL Tyrone Woods who selflessly sacrificed his life during Benghazi. Please help me honor him so that he is not forgotten.
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  • "Being a Soldier is a Privilege and Honor few will ever know. I have been Trained by, Led by, and Inspired by Soldiers my entire adult life. There is No End to being a Soldier. I will take off the uniform, but I will always be a Soldier."
    - General Richard A. Cody

    Note: this quote was taken from "Army Wife", written by Vicki Cody - a Most Excellent book in my opinion.
    SALUTE!
    NSDQ!
    "Being a Soldier is a Privilege and Honor few will ever know. I have been Trained by, Led by, and Inspired by Soldiers my entire adult life. There is No End to being a Soldier. I will take off the uniform, but I will always be a Soldier." - General Richard A. Cody Note: this quote was taken from "Army Wife", written by Vicki Cody - a Most Excellent book in my opinion. SALUTE! NSDQ!
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  • 🇺🇲 WWII uncovered: 11th Airborne Division's Rod Serling, Hollywood's "Angry Young Man"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Original description and photo submitted by Jeremy Holm ©️ author of "When Angels Fall: From Toccoa to Tokyo: The 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment in World War II MacArthur’s Secret Weapon & Heroes of Los Baños"
    🇺🇲 WWII uncovered: 11th Airborne Division's Rod Serling, Hollywood's "Angry Young Man" Before he became the well-known creator of "The Twilight Zone," Rod Serling was a young, 5'4" paratrooper in the 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 11th Airborne Division. As one of "The Angels", Rod did not meet the height requirements for the parachutes, but talked his way into the regiment anyway. While the division was on New Guinea, Jack Benny came by to perform for the Angels and Rod was able to write and perform in a small skit that was broadcast on Armed Forces Radio. It was a sign of things to come for Serling. During the Angels' campaign on Leyte in late 1944, T-4 Serling and the Suicide Squad kept busy eliminating enemy bunkers and defensive positions. While high in the island's mountains, the regiment could only be resupplied by air and one day Rod watched in horror as a heavy crate landed squarely on his good friend PVT Melvin Levy's shoulders, killing him instantly. Rod marked Melvin’s grave with a Star of David in honor of his friend’s Jewish heritage. It was the first of the war's many difficult experiences that affected, perhaps even haunted, Rod, in addition to a wound to his knee that plagued him for the rest of his life. During the Angels' campaign to liberate Luzon, Rod and the Demolitions team kept busy with the dangerous job of blasting countless grass-covered pillboxes and blockhouses, many of which were heavily defended. On one occasion, Rod found himself staring down the barrel of a Japanese rifle. Luckily one of his buddies was quicker and shot the enemy soldier. In one Manila neighborhood, Rod and the other Angels were enjoying an impromptu celebration by the newly-liberated Filipinos when the Japanese began shelling the area. Noticing a wounded Filipino woman out in the open, Rod rushed into the fire to carry her to safety, an action to earned him the Bronze Star. After the war, Rod turned to writing to "face his demons" and went on to become one of televisions most well-known, and award-winning, screenwriters, playwrights, television producers, and narrators. He also was a passionate teacher at Antioch College (Ohio) and Ithaca College (New York). Known to smoke three packs of cigarettes a day, Rod died on June 28, 1975. May we all remember these words spoken before his death: "for civilization to survive, the human race has to remain civilized". 🪂For more information on Rod's experiences in World War II, please visit 511pir.com or 11th Airborne Division Association - "Angels" #ww2uncovered #honorourveterans #ww2 #WorldWarII #worldwar2 #worldwartwo #paratrooper #paratroopers #airborne #greatestgeneration #ww2veteran #WWII #WWIIveteran #AATW #twilightzone #Airborne #rodserling #LestWeForget Original description and photo submitted by Jeremy Holm ©️ author of "When Angels Fall: From Toccoa to Tokyo: The 511th Parachute Infantry Regiment in World War II MacArthur’s Secret Weapon & Heroes of Los Baños"
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  • The incredible story of POW Navy Pilot Dieter Dengler and his escape from a prison camp in Laos.

    Dieter Dengler (May 22, 1938 – February 7, 2001) was a German-born United States Navy aviator during the Vietnam War and, following six months of imprisonment and torture, became the first captured U.S. airman to escape enemy captivity during the war. Of seven prisoners of war who escaped together from a Pathet Lao prison camp in Laos, Dengler was one of two survivors (the other was Thailand citizen Phisit Intharathat). Dengler was rescued after 23 days on the run.

    Dieter Dengler was born and raised in the small town of Wildberg, in the Black Forest region of the German state of Baden-Württemberg. He grew up not knowing his father, who had been drafted into the German army in 1939 and was killed during World War II on the Eastern Front during the winter of 1943/44. Dengler became very close to his mother and brothers. Dengler's maternal grandfather, Hermann Schnuerle, claimed he refused to vote for Adolf Hitler in the 1934 elections. Subsequently he was paraded around town with a placard around his neck, was spat upon, and was then sent to labor in a rock mine for a year. Dengler credited his grandfather's resolve as a major inspiration during his time in Laos. His grandfather's steadfastness despite the great risks was one reason Dengler refused a North Vietnamese demand that he sign a document condemning American aggression in Southeast Asia.

    Dieter grew up in extreme poverty but always found ways to help his family survive. Dieter and his brothers would go into bombed-out buildings, tear off wallpaper, and bring it to their mother to boil for the nutrients in the wheat-based wallpaper paste. When members of the small group of Moroccans who lived in the area would slaughter sheep for their meals, Dieter would sneak over to their lodgings to take the scraps and leftovers they would not eat and his mother would make dinner from them. He also built a bicycle by scavenging from dumps. Dieter was apprenticed to a blacksmith at the age of 14. The blacksmith and the other boys, who worked six days a week building giant clocks and clock faces to repair German cathedrals, regularly beat him. Later in life Dieter thanked his former master "for his disciplined training and for helping Dieter become more capable, self-reliant and yes, 'tough enough to survive'".

    After seeing an advertisement in an American magazine, expressing a need for pilots, he decided to go to the United States. Although a family friend agreed to sponsor him, he lacked money for passage and came up with a plan to independently salvage brass and other metals to sell.

    In 1956, when he turned 18 and upon completion of his apprenticeship, Dengler hitchhiked to Hamburg and spent two weeks surviving on the streets before the ship set sail for New York City. While on the ship he saved fruit and sandwiches for the coming days and when going through customs the agent was astonished when the food tumbled out of his shirt. He lived on the streets of Manhattan for just over a week and eventually found his way to an Air Force recruiter. He was assured that piloting aircraft was what the Air Force was all about so he enlisted in June 1957 and went to basic training at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas. After basic training, Dengler spent two years peeling potatoes and then transferred to a motor pool as a mechanic. His qualifications as a machinist led to an assignment as a gunsmith. He passed the test for aviation cadets but was told that only college graduates were selected to be pilots and his enlistment expired before he was selected for pilot training.

    After his discharge Dengler joined his brother working in a bakery shop near San Francisco and enrolled in San Francisco City College, then transferred to the College of San Mateo, where he studied aeronautics. Upon completion of two years of college he applied for the US Navy aviation cadet program and was accepted.
    Dengler would do whatever it took to become a pilot. In his inaugural flight at primary flight training, for example, the instructor told Dengler that if he became airsick and vomited in the cockpit that he would receive a "down" on his record. Students were only allowed three downs then they would wash out of flight training. The instructor took the plane through spins and loops causing Dengler to become dizzy and disoriented. Knowing he was about to vomit and not wanting to receive a "down", Dengler took off his boot, threw up into it and put it back on. At the end of the flight the instructor checked the cockpit and could smell the vomit, but couldn't find any evidence of it. He didn't get a "down".

    After his completion of flight training Dengler went to the Naval Air Station Corpus Christi, Texas for training as an attack pilot in the Douglas AD Skyraider. He joined VA-145 while the squadron was on shore duty at Naval Air Station Alameda, California. In 1965 the squadron joined the carrier USS Ranger. In December the carrier set sail for the coast of Vietnam. He was stationed initially at Dixie Station, off South Vietnam then moved north to Yankee Station for operations against North Vietnam.

    On February 1, 1966, the day after the carrier began flying missions from Yankee Station, Lieutenant, Junior Grade Dengler launched from the Ranger with three other aircraft on an interdiction mission against a truck convoy that had been reported in North Vietnam. Thunderstorms forced the pilots to divert to their secondary target, a road intersection located west of the Mu Gia Pass in Laos. At the time, U.S. air operations in Laos were classified "secret". Visibility was poor due to smoke from burning fields, and upon rolling in on the target, Dengler and the remainder of his flight lost sight of one another. Visibility was poor, and as Dengler rolled his Skyraider in on the target after flying for two-and-a-half hours into enemy territory, he was hit by anti-aircraft fire.

    "There was a large explosion on my right side," he remembered when interviewed shortly before his death in 2001.

    It was like lightning striking. The right wing was gone. The airplane seemed to cartwheel through the sky in slow motion. There were more explosions—boom, boom, boom—and I was still able to guide the plane into a clearing in Laos.
    He said: "Many times, people have asked me if I was afraid. Just before dying, there is no more fear. I felt I was floating."

    When his squadron mates realized that he had been downed, they remained confident that he would be rescued. Immediately after he was shot down, Dengler smashed his survival radio and hid most of his other survival equipment to keep Vietnamese or Lao search parties from finding it. The day after being shot down Dengler was apprehended by Pathet Lao troops, the Laotian equivalent of the Viet Cong.

    He was marched through the jungle, was tied on the ground to four stakes spreadeagled in order to stop him escaping at night. In the morning his face would be swollen from mosquito bites and he was unable to see.

    After an early escape attempt he was recaptured while drinking from a spring. According to Dengler he was tortured in retaliation:

    I had escaped from them, [and] they wanted to get even. He was hung upside down by his ankles with a nest of biting ants over his face until he lost consciousness, suspended in a freezing well at night so that if he fell asleep he might drown. On other occasions he was dragged through villages by a water buffalo, to the amusement of his guards, as they goaded the animal with a whip. He was asked by Pathet Lao officials to sign a document condemning the United States, but he refused and as a result he was tortured as tiny wedges of bamboo were inserted under his fingernails and into incisions on his body which grew and festered.

    "They were always thinking of something new to do to me." Dengler recalled. "One guy made a rope tourniquet around my upper arm. He inserted a piece of wood, and twisted and twisted until my nerves cut against the bone. The hand was completely unusable for six months."

    After some weeks Dengler was handed over to the Vietnamese. As they marched him through a village, a man slipped Dengler's engagement ring from his finger. Dengler complained to his guards. They found the culprit, summarily chopped off his finger with a machete and handed the ring back to Dengler.

    "I realized right there and then that you don't fool around with the Viet Cong", he said.
    Dengler had trained in escaping and survival at the Navy SERE survival school, where he had twice escaped from the mock-POW camp run by SERE instructors and Marine guards and was planning a third escape when the training ended. He had also set a record as the only student to gain weight (three pounds) during the SERE course; his childhood experiences had made him unafraid of eating whatever he could find and he had feasted on food the course instructors had thrown in the garbage.

    Dengler was eventually brought to a prison camp near the village of Par Kung where he met other POWs. The other six prisoners were:
    Phisit Intharathat (Thai)
    Prasit Promsuwan (Thai)
    Prasit Thanee (Thai)
    Y.C. To (Chinese)
    Eugene DeBruin (American)
    Duane W. Martin (American)

    Except for Martin, an Air Force helicopter pilot who had been shot down in North Vietnam nearly a year before, the other prisoners were civilians employed by Air America, a civilian airline owned by the Central Intelligence Agency. The civilians had been held by the Pathet Lao for over two and a half years when Dengler joined them.

    "I had hoped to see other pilots. What I saw horrified me. The first one who came out was carrying his intestines around in his hands. One had no teeth - plagued by awful infections, he had begged the others to knock them out with a rock and a rusty nail in order to release pus from his gums". "They had been there for two and a half years," said Dengler. "I looked at them and it was just awful. I realized that was how I would look in six months. I had to escape."

    The day he arrived in the camp, Dengler advised the other prisoners that he intended to escape and invited them to join him. They advised that he wait until the monsoon season when there would be plenty of water.

    Shortly after Dengler arrived, the prisoners were moved to a new camp ten miles away at Hoi Het. After the move, a strong debate ensued among the prisoners with Dengler, Martin and Prasit arguing for escape which the other prisoners, particularly Phisit initially opposed.

    As food began to run out, tension between the men grew: they were given just a single handful of rice to share while the guards would stalk deer, pulling the grass out of the animal's stomach for the prisoners to eat while they shared the meat. The prisoners' only "treats" were snakes they occasionally caught from the communal latrine or the rats that lived under their hut which they could spear with sharpened bamboo. At night the men were handcuffed together and shackled to wooden foot blocks. They suffered chronic dysentery and were made to lie in their excrement until morning.

    After several months, one of the Thai prisoners overheard the guards talking about shooting them in the jungle and making it look like an escape attempt. They too, were starving and wanted to return to their villages. With that revelation, everyone agreed and a date to escape was set. Their plan was to take over the camp and signal a C-130 Hercules flare-ship that made nightly visits to the area. Dengler loosened logs under the hut that allowed the prisoners to squeeze through. The plan was for him to go out when the guards were eating and seize their weapons and pass them to Phisit Intharathat and Promsuwan while Martin and DeBruin procured others from other locations.

    "I planned to capture the guards at lunchtime, when they put down their rifles to get their food. There were two minutes and twenty seconds in the day when I could strike." In that time Dengler had to release all the men from their handcuffs.

    Escape
    On June 29, 1966 while the guards were eating, the group slipped out of their hand-cuffs and foot restraints and grabbed the guards' unattended weapons which included M1 rifles, Chinese automatic rifles, an American carbine and at least one sub-machine gun as well as an early version of the AK47 automatic rifle, which Dengler used during the escape from the POW camp. Dengler went out first followed by Martin. He went to the guard hut and seized an M1 for himself and passed the American carbine to Martin. The guards realized the prisoners had escaped and five of them rushed toward Dengler, who shot at least three with the AK47. Phisit killed another guard as he reached for his rifle. Two others ran off, presumably to get help, although at least one had been wounded. The seven prisoners split into three groups. DeBruin was originally supposed to go with Dengler and Martin but decided to go with To, who was recovering from a fever and unable to keep up. They intended to get over the nearest ridge and wait for rescue. Dengler and Martin went off by themselves with the intention of heading for the Mekong River to escape to Thailand, but they never got more than a few miles from the camp from which they had escaped.

    "Seven of us escaped," said Dengler. "I was the only one who came out alive."
    With the exception of Phisit, who was recaptured and later rescued by Laotian troops, none of the other prisoners were ever seen again. DeBruin was reportedly captured and placed in another camp, then disappeared in 1968.

    Rescue
    Escape proved to be hazardous. Soon, the two men's feet were white, mangled stumps from trekking through the dense jungle. They found the sole of an old tennis shoe, which they wore alternately, strapping it onto a foot with rattan for a few moments' respite. In this way they were able to make their way to a fast-flowing river.

    "It was the highway to freedom," said Dengler, "We knew it would flow into the Mekong River, which would take us over the border into Thailand and to safety."

    The men built a raft and floated downstream on ferocious rapids, tying themselves to trees at night to stop themselves being washed away in the torrential water. By morning they would be covered in mud and hundreds of leeches. When they thought they were on their way to the Mekong, they discovered that they had gone around in a circle. They had spotted several villages but had not been detected. They set up camp in an abandoned village where they found shelter from the nearly incessant rain. They had brought rice with them and found other food, but were still on the verge of starvation. Their intent had been to signal a C-130 but at first lacked the energy to build a fire using primitive methods of rubbing bamboo together. Dengler finally managed to locate carbine cartridges that Martin had thrown away and used their powder to enhance the tinder and got a fire going. That night they lit torches and waved them in the shape of an S and O when a C-130 came over. The airplane circled and dropped a couple of flares and they were overjoyed, believing they had been spotted. They woke up the next morning to find the landscape covered by fog and drizzle, but when it lifted, no rescue force appeared.

    Martin, who was weak from starvation and was suffering from malaria, wanted to approach a nearby Akha village to steal some food. Dengler knew it was not a good idea, but refused to let his friend go near the village alone. They saw a little boy playing with a dog and the child ran into the village calling out "American!" Within seconds a villager appeared and they knelt down on the trail in supplication, but the man swung his machete and struck Martin in the leg. With the next swipe, Martin's head came off. Dengler jumped to his feet and rushed toward the villager, who turned and ran into the village to get help.

    I reached for the rubber sole from his foot, grabbed it and ran. From that moment on, all my motions became mechanical. I couldn't care less if I lived or died.

    Dengler recalls, it was a wild animal who gave him the mental strength to continue.
    "I was followed by this beautiful bear. He became like my pet dog and was the only friend I had."
    These were his darkest hours. Little more than a walking skeleton after weeks on the run, he floated in and out of a hallucinatory state.

    "I was just crawling along," he said. "Then I had a vision: these enormous doors opened up. Lots of horses came galloping out. They were not driven by death, but by angels. Death didn't want me."

    Dengler managed to evade the searchers who went out after him and escaped back into the jungle. He returned to the abandoned village where the two had been spending their time and where he and Martin had signaled the C-130. That night when a C-130 flare-ship came, Dengler set fire to the huts and burned the village down. The C-130 crew spotted the fires and dropped flares, but even though the crew reported their sighting when they returned to Udorn Royal Thai Air Force Base, the fires were not recognized by intelligence as having been a signal from a survivor.

    Deatrick has long marvelled at the fact that had he stuck to his original flight schedule on the morning of July 20, 1966, Dieter would not have been at the river to be sighted at that earlier hour. "If God put me on the earth for one reason," Deatrick says, "it was to find Dieter over there in the jungle." As it was, Deatrick describes it as "a million-in-one chance."
    -Excerpt from Dengler biography regarding the role of pilot Eugene Deatrick

    When a rescue force again failed to materialize, Dengler decided to find one of the parachutes from a flare for use as a possible signal. He found one on a bush and placed it in his rucksack. On July 20, 1966, after 23 days in the jungle, Dengler managed to signal an Air Force pilot with the parachute. A 2-ship flight of Air Force Skyraiders from the 1st Air Commando Squadron happened to fly up the river where Dengler was. Eugene Peyton Deatrick, the pilot of the lead plane and the squadron commander, spotted a flash of white while making a turn at the river's bend and came back and spotted a man waving something white. Deatrick and his wingman contacted rescue forces, but were told to ignore the sighting, as no airmen were known to be down in the area. Deatrick persisted and eventually managed to convince the command and control center to dispatch a rescue force. Fearing that Dengler might be a Viet Cong soldier, the helicopter crew restrained him when he was brought aboard.

    According to the documentary Little Dieter Needs to Fly Dengler said one of the flight crew who was holding him down pulled out a half eaten snake from underneath Dengler's clothing and was so surprised he nearly fell out of the helicopter. Dengler was stripped of his clothes to ensure he was not armed or in possession of a hand grenade. When questioned, Dengler told Air Force pararescue specialist Michael Leonard that he was a Navy Lieutenant JG who had escaped from a North Vietnamese prisoner of war camp two months earlier. Deatrick radioed the rescue helicopter crew to see if they could identify the person they had just hoisted up from the jungle. They reported that they had a man who claimed to be a downed Navy pilot who flew a Douglas A-1H Skyraider.

    It wasn't until after he reached the hospital at Da Nang that Dengler's identity was confirmed. A conflict between the Air Force and the Navy developed over who should control his debriefing and recovery. In an apparent attempt to prevent the Air Force from embarrassing them in some way, the Navy sent a team of SEALs into the hospital to steal Dengler. He was brought out of the hospital in a covered gurney and rushed to the air field, where he was placed aboard a Navy carrier delivery transport Grumman C-2A from VR-21 and flown to the Ranger where a welcoming party had been prepared. At night, however, he was tormented by awful terrors, and had to be tied to his bed. In the end, his friends put him to sleep in a cockpit, surrounded by pillows. "It was the only place I felt safe," he said.

    Dengler's deprivation from malnutrition and parasites caused the Navy doctors to order that he be airlifted to the United States.

    Later life and death
    Dengler recovered physically, but never put his ordeal behind him. As Werner Herzog described it in his documentary about Dengler, "Men are often haunted by things that happen to them in life, especially in war Their lives seem to be normal, but they are not."

    He remained in the navy for a year, was promoted to Lieutenant, and was trained to fly jets. When his military obligation was satisfied, he resigned from the Navy and applied for a position as an airline pilot with Trans World Airlines (TWA). He continued flying and survived four subsequent crashes as a civilian test pilot.

    In 1977, during a time when he was furloughed from TWA, Dengler returned to Laos and was greeted as a celebrity by the Pathet Lao. He was taken to the camp from which he had escaped and was surprised to discover that at one point he and Martin had been within a mile and a half of it.

    His fascination with airplanes and aviation continued for the remainder of his life. He continued flying almost up until his death. He took an early-retirement as a pilot for TWA sometime prior to 1985, but continued flying his meticulously restored Cessna 195, putting it on static display at numerous California air shows.

    In 2000, Dengler was inducted into the Gathering of Eagles program and told the story of his escape to groups of young military officers. Dengler was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, an incurable neurological disorder; on February 7, 2001, he rolled his wheelchair from his house down to the driveway of a fire station and shot himself. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. A Navy honor guard was present at the burial as well as a fly-over by Navy F-14 Tomcats.
    The incredible story of POW Navy Pilot Dieter Dengler and his escape from a prison camp in Laos. Dieter Dengler (May 22, 1938 – February 7, 2001) was a German-born United States Navy aviator during the Vietnam War and, following six months of imprisonment and torture, became the first captured U.S. airman to escape enemy captivity during the war. Of seven prisoners of war who escaped together from a Pathet Lao prison camp in Laos, Dengler was one of two survivors (the other was Thailand citizen Phisit Intharathat). Dengler was rescued after 23 days on the run. Dieter Dengler was born and raised in the small town of Wildberg, in the Black Forest region of the German state of Baden-Württemberg. He grew up not knowing his father, who had been drafted into the German army in 1939 and was killed during World War II on the Eastern Front during the winter of 1943/44. Dengler became very close to his mother and brothers. Dengler's maternal grandfather, Hermann Schnuerle, claimed he refused to vote for Adolf Hitler in the 1934 elections. Subsequently he was paraded around town with a placard around his neck, was spat upon, and was then sent to labor in a rock mine for a year. Dengler credited his grandfather's resolve as a major inspiration during his time in Laos. His grandfather's steadfastness despite the great risks was one reason Dengler refused a North Vietnamese demand that he sign a document condemning American aggression in Southeast Asia. Dieter grew up in extreme poverty but always found ways to help his family survive. Dieter and his brothers would go into bombed-out buildings, tear off wallpaper, and bring it to their mother to boil for the nutrients in the wheat-based wallpaper paste. When members of the small group of Moroccans who lived in the area would slaughter sheep for their meals, Dieter would sneak over to their lodgings to take the scraps and leftovers they would not eat and his mother would make dinner from them. He also built a bicycle by scavenging from dumps. Dieter was apprenticed to a blacksmith at the age of 14. The blacksmith and the other boys, who worked six days a week building giant clocks and clock faces to repair German cathedrals, regularly beat him. Later in life Dieter thanked his former master "for his disciplined training and for helping Dieter become more capable, self-reliant and yes, 'tough enough to survive'". After seeing an advertisement in an American magazine, expressing a need for pilots, he decided to go to the United States. Although a family friend agreed to sponsor him, he lacked money for passage and came up with a plan to independently salvage brass and other metals to sell. In 1956, when he turned 18 and upon completion of his apprenticeship, Dengler hitchhiked to Hamburg and spent two weeks surviving on the streets before the ship set sail for New York City. While on the ship he saved fruit and sandwiches for the coming days and when going through customs the agent was astonished when the food tumbled out of his shirt. He lived on the streets of Manhattan for just over a week and eventually found his way to an Air Force recruiter. He was assured that piloting aircraft was what the Air Force was all about so he enlisted in June 1957 and went to basic training at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas. After basic training, Dengler spent two years peeling potatoes and then transferred to a motor pool as a mechanic. His qualifications as a machinist led to an assignment as a gunsmith. He passed the test for aviation cadets but was told that only college graduates were selected to be pilots and his enlistment expired before he was selected for pilot training. After his discharge Dengler joined his brother working in a bakery shop near San Francisco and enrolled in San Francisco City College, then transferred to the College of San Mateo, where he studied aeronautics. Upon completion of two years of college he applied for the US Navy aviation cadet program and was accepted. Dengler would do whatever it took to become a pilot. In his inaugural flight at primary flight training, for example, the instructor told Dengler that if he became airsick and vomited in the cockpit that he would receive a "down" on his record. Students were only allowed three downs then they would wash out of flight training. The instructor took the plane through spins and loops causing Dengler to become dizzy and disoriented. Knowing he was about to vomit and not wanting to receive a "down", Dengler took off his boot, threw up into it and put it back on. At the end of the flight the instructor checked the cockpit and could smell the vomit, but couldn't find any evidence of it. He didn't get a "down". After his completion of flight training Dengler went to the Naval Air Station Corpus Christi, Texas for training as an attack pilot in the Douglas AD Skyraider. He joined VA-145 while the squadron was on shore duty at Naval Air Station Alameda, California. In 1965 the squadron joined the carrier USS Ranger. In December the carrier set sail for the coast of Vietnam. He was stationed initially at Dixie Station, off South Vietnam then moved north to Yankee Station for operations against North Vietnam. On February 1, 1966, the day after the carrier began flying missions from Yankee Station, Lieutenant, Junior Grade Dengler launched from the Ranger with three other aircraft on an interdiction mission against a truck convoy that had been reported in North Vietnam. Thunderstorms forced the pilots to divert to their secondary target, a road intersection located west of the Mu Gia Pass in Laos. At the time, U.S. air operations in Laos were classified "secret". Visibility was poor due to smoke from burning fields, and upon rolling in on the target, Dengler and the remainder of his flight lost sight of one another. Visibility was poor, and as Dengler rolled his Skyraider in on the target after flying for two-and-a-half hours into enemy territory, he was hit by anti-aircraft fire. "There was a large explosion on my right side," he remembered when interviewed shortly before his death in 2001. It was like lightning striking. The right wing was gone. The airplane seemed to cartwheel through the sky in slow motion. There were more explosions—boom, boom, boom—and I was still able to guide the plane into a clearing in Laos. He said: "Many times, people have asked me if I was afraid. Just before dying, there is no more fear. I felt I was floating." When his squadron mates realized that he had been downed, they remained confident that he would be rescued. Immediately after he was shot down, Dengler smashed his survival radio and hid most of his other survival equipment to keep Vietnamese or Lao search parties from finding it. The day after being shot down Dengler was apprehended by Pathet Lao troops, the Laotian equivalent of the Viet Cong. He was marched through the jungle, was tied on the ground to four stakes spreadeagled in order to stop him escaping at night. In the morning his face would be swollen from mosquito bites and he was unable to see. After an early escape attempt he was recaptured while drinking from a spring. According to Dengler he was tortured in retaliation: I had escaped from them, [and] they wanted to get even. He was hung upside down by his ankles with a nest of biting ants over his face until he lost consciousness, suspended in a freezing well at night so that if he fell asleep he might drown. On other occasions he was dragged through villages by a water buffalo, to the amusement of his guards, as they goaded the animal with a whip. He was asked by Pathet Lao officials to sign a document condemning the United States, but he refused and as a result he was tortured as tiny wedges of bamboo were inserted under his fingernails and into incisions on his body which grew and festered. "They were always thinking of something new to do to me." Dengler recalled. "One guy made a rope tourniquet around my upper arm. He inserted a piece of wood, and twisted and twisted until my nerves cut against the bone. The hand was completely unusable for six months." After some weeks Dengler was handed over to the Vietnamese. As they marched him through a village, a man slipped Dengler's engagement ring from his finger. Dengler complained to his guards. They found the culprit, summarily chopped off his finger with a machete and handed the ring back to Dengler. "I realized right there and then that you don't fool around with the Viet Cong", he said. Dengler had trained in escaping and survival at the Navy SERE survival school, where he had twice escaped from the mock-POW camp run by SERE instructors and Marine guards and was planning a third escape when the training ended. He had also set a record as the only student to gain weight (three pounds) during the SERE course; his childhood experiences had made him unafraid of eating whatever he could find and he had feasted on food the course instructors had thrown in the garbage. Dengler was eventually brought to a prison camp near the village of Par Kung where he met other POWs. The other six prisoners were: Phisit Intharathat (Thai) Prasit Promsuwan (Thai) Prasit Thanee (Thai) Y.C. To (Chinese) Eugene DeBruin (American) Duane W. Martin (American) Except for Martin, an Air Force helicopter pilot who had been shot down in North Vietnam nearly a year before, the other prisoners were civilians employed by Air America, a civilian airline owned by the Central Intelligence Agency. The civilians had been held by the Pathet Lao for over two and a half years when Dengler joined them. "I had hoped to see other pilots. What I saw horrified me. The first one who came out was carrying his intestines around in his hands. One had no teeth - plagued by awful infections, he had begged the others to knock them out with a rock and a rusty nail in order to release pus from his gums". "They had been there for two and a half years," said Dengler. "I looked at them and it was just awful. I realized that was how I would look in six months. I had to escape." The day he arrived in the camp, Dengler advised the other prisoners that he intended to escape and invited them to join him. They advised that he wait until the monsoon season when there would be plenty of water. Shortly after Dengler arrived, the prisoners were moved to a new camp ten miles away at Hoi Het. After the move, a strong debate ensued among the prisoners with Dengler, Martin and Prasit arguing for escape which the other prisoners, particularly Phisit initially opposed. As food began to run out, tension between the men grew: they were given just a single handful of rice to share while the guards would stalk deer, pulling the grass out of the animal's stomach for the prisoners to eat while they shared the meat. The prisoners' only "treats" were snakes they occasionally caught from the communal latrine or the rats that lived under their hut which they could spear with sharpened bamboo. At night the men were handcuffed together and shackled to wooden foot blocks. They suffered chronic dysentery and were made to lie in their excrement until morning. After several months, one of the Thai prisoners overheard the guards talking about shooting them in the jungle and making it look like an escape attempt. They too, were starving and wanted to return to their villages. With that revelation, everyone agreed and a date to escape was set. Their plan was to take over the camp and signal a C-130 Hercules flare-ship that made nightly visits to the area. Dengler loosened logs under the hut that allowed the prisoners to squeeze through. The plan was for him to go out when the guards were eating and seize their weapons and pass them to Phisit Intharathat and Promsuwan while Martin and DeBruin procured others from other locations. "I planned to capture the guards at lunchtime, when they put down their rifles to get their food. There were two minutes and twenty seconds in the day when I could strike." In that time Dengler had to release all the men from their handcuffs. Escape On June 29, 1966 while the guards were eating, the group slipped out of their hand-cuffs and foot restraints and grabbed the guards' unattended weapons which included M1 rifles, Chinese automatic rifles, an American carbine and at least one sub-machine gun as well as an early version of the AK47 automatic rifle, which Dengler used during the escape from the POW camp. Dengler went out first followed by Martin. He went to the guard hut and seized an M1 for himself and passed the American carbine to Martin. The guards realized the prisoners had escaped and five of them rushed toward Dengler, who shot at least three with the AK47. Phisit killed another guard as he reached for his rifle. Two others ran off, presumably to get help, although at least one had been wounded. The seven prisoners split into three groups. DeBruin was originally supposed to go with Dengler and Martin but decided to go with To, who was recovering from a fever and unable to keep up. They intended to get over the nearest ridge and wait for rescue. Dengler and Martin went off by themselves with the intention of heading for the Mekong River to escape to Thailand, but they never got more than a few miles from the camp from which they had escaped. "Seven of us escaped," said Dengler. "I was the only one who came out alive." With the exception of Phisit, who was recaptured and later rescued by Laotian troops, none of the other prisoners were ever seen again. DeBruin was reportedly captured and placed in another camp, then disappeared in 1968. Rescue Escape proved to be hazardous. Soon, the two men's feet were white, mangled stumps from trekking through the dense jungle. They found the sole of an old tennis shoe, which they wore alternately, strapping it onto a foot with rattan for a few moments' respite. In this way they were able to make their way to a fast-flowing river. "It was the highway to freedom," said Dengler, "We knew it would flow into the Mekong River, which would take us over the border into Thailand and to safety." The men built a raft and floated downstream on ferocious rapids, tying themselves to trees at night to stop themselves being washed away in the torrential water. By morning they would be covered in mud and hundreds of leeches. When they thought they were on their way to the Mekong, they discovered that they had gone around in a circle. They had spotted several villages but had not been detected. They set up camp in an abandoned village where they found shelter from the nearly incessant rain. They had brought rice with them and found other food, but were still on the verge of starvation. Their intent had been to signal a C-130 but at first lacked the energy to build a fire using primitive methods of rubbing bamboo together. Dengler finally managed to locate carbine cartridges that Martin had thrown away and used their powder to enhance the tinder and got a fire going. That night they lit torches and waved them in the shape of an S and O when a C-130 came over. The airplane circled and dropped a couple of flares and they were overjoyed, believing they had been spotted. They woke up the next morning to find the landscape covered by fog and drizzle, but when it lifted, no rescue force appeared. Martin, who was weak from starvation and was suffering from malaria, wanted to approach a nearby Akha village to steal some food. Dengler knew it was not a good idea, but refused to let his friend go near the village alone. They saw a little boy playing with a dog and the child ran into the village calling out "American!" Within seconds a villager appeared and they knelt down on the trail in supplication, but the man swung his machete and struck Martin in the leg. With the next swipe, Martin's head came off. Dengler jumped to his feet and rushed toward the villager, who turned and ran into the village to get help. I reached for the rubber sole from his foot, grabbed it and ran. From that moment on, all my motions became mechanical. I couldn't care less if I lived or died. Dengler recalls, it was a wild animal who gave him the mental strength to continue. "I was followed by this beautiful bear. He became like my pet dog and was the only friend I had." These were his darkest hours. Little more than a walking skeleton after weeks on the run, he floated in and out of a hallucinatory state. "I was just crawling along," he said. "Then I had a vision: these enormous doors opened up. Lots of horses came galloping out. They were not driven by death, but by angels. Death didn't want me." Dengler managed to evade the searchers who went out after him and escaped back into the jungle. He returned to the abandoned village where the two had been spending their time and where he and Martin had signaled the C-130. That night when a C-130 flare-ship came, Dengler set fire to the huts and burned the village down. The C-130 crew spotted the fires and dropped flares, but even though the crew reported their sighting when they returned to Udorn Royal Thai Air Force Base, the fires were not recognized by intelligence as having been a signal from a survivor. Deatrick has long marvelled at the fact that had he stuck to his original flight schedule on the morning of July 20, 1966, Dieter would not have been at the river to be sighted at that earlier hour. "If God put me on the earth for one reason," Deatrick says, "it was to find Dieter over there in the jungle." As it was, Deatrick describes it as "a million-in-one chance." -Excerpt from Dengler biography regarding the role of pilot Eugene Deatrick When a rescue force again failed to materialize, Dengler decided to find one of the parachutes from a flare for use as a possible signal. He found one on a bush and placed it in his rucksack. On July 20, 1966, after 23 days in the jungle, Dengler managed to signal an Air Force pilot with the parachute. A 2-ship flight of Air Force Skyraiders from the 1st Air Commando Squadron happened to fly up the river where Dengler was. Eugene Peyton Deatrick, the pilot of the lead plane and the squadron commander, spotted a flash of white while making a turn at the river's bend and came back and spotted a man waving something white. Deatrick and his wingman contacted rescue forces, but were told to ignore the sighting, as no airmen were known to be down in the area. Deatrick persisted and eventually managed to convince the command and control center to dispatch a rescue force. Fearing that Dengler might be a Viet Cong soldier, the helicopter crew restrained him when he was brought aboard. According to the documentary Little Dieter Needs to Fly Dengler said one of the flight crew who was holding him down pulled out a half eaten snake from underneath Dengler's clothing and was so surprised he nearly fell out of the helicopter. Dengler was stripped of his clothes to ensure he was not armed or in possession of a hand grenade. When questioned, Dengler told Air Force pararescue specialist Michael Leonard that he was a Navy Lieutenant JG who had escaped from a North Vietnamese prisoner of war camp two months earlier. Deatrick radioed the rescue helicopter crew to see if they could identify the person they had just hoisted up from the jungle. They reported that they had a man who claimed to be a downed Navy pilot who flew a Douglas A-1H Skyraider. It wasn't until after he reached the hospital at Da Nang that Dengler's identity was confirmed. A conflict between the Air Force and the Navy developed over who should control his debriefing and recovery. In an apparent attempt to prevent the Air Force from embarrassing them in some way, the Navy sent a team of SEALs into the hospital to steal Dengler. He was brought out of the hospital in a covered gurney and rushed to the air field, where he was placed aboard a Navy carrier delivery transport Grumman C-2A from VR-21 and flown to the Ranger where a welcoming party had been prepared. At night, however, he was tormented by awful terrors, and had to be tied to his bed. In the end, his friends put him to sleep in a cockpit, surrounded by pillows. "It was the only place I felt safe," he said. Dengler's deprivation from malnutrition and parasites caused the Navy doctors to order that he be airlifted to the United States. Later life and death Dengler recovered physically, but never put his ordeal behind him. As Werner Herzog described it in his documentary about Dengler, "Men are often haunted by things that happen to them in life, especially in war Their lives seem to be normal, but they are not." He remained in the navy for a year, was promoted to Lieutenant, and was trained to fly jets. When his military obligation was satisfied, he resigned from the Navy and applied for a position as an airline pilot with Trans World Airlines (TWA). He continued flying and survived four subsequent crashes as a civilian test pilot. In 1977, during a time when he was furloughed from TWA, Dengler returned to Laos and was greeted as a celebrity by the Pathet Lao. He was taken to the camp from which he had escaped and was surprised to discover that at one point he and Martin had been within a mile and a half of it. His fascination with airplanes and aviation continued for the remainder of his life. He continued flying almost up until his death. He took an early-retirement as a pilot for TWA sometime prior to 1985, but continued flying his meticulously restored Cessna 195, putting it on static display at numerous California air shows. In 2000, Dengler was inducted into the Gathering of Eagles program and told the story of his escape to groups of young military officers. Dengler was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, an incurable neurological disorder; on February 7, 2001, he rolled his wheelchair from his house down to the driveway of a fire station and shot himself. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery. A Navy honor guard was present at the burial as well as a fly-over by Navy F-14 Tomcats.
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  • Duty, Honor, Country is NOT a military anthem.

    It’s an American culture. Where is our leadership? We are in the desert.

    Veterans need not fade into the horizon. We need to be curving the American Identity into the raw material of our communities.

    NSDQ! & LLTB!
    Duty, Honor, Country is NOT a military anthem. It’s an American culture. Where is our leadership? We are in the desert. Veterans need not fade into the horizon. We need to be curving the American Identity into the raw material of our communities. NSDQ! & LLTB!
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  • Today is Walt B's Funeral/Memorial Service, info as follows:
    All family and friends are welcome to attend his service on January 6th, 2024, at 1:00p, at Forest Lawns Memory Garden in Savannah, GA. Please keep his family in your thoughts and prayers.

    Obituary info:
    Walter C Battisti, 70, of Savannah, GA, passed away on December 15th, 2023 after a battle with a brief illness.

    Walter was born on October 23rd, 1953 to Saturno and Angela Battisti in San Juan, PR. He joined the US Army in 1973 where he worked as a CH-47 Mechanic. Walter had an extensive and successful military career. He was incredibly proud of being in the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, which made a significant impact on his life. He carried this achievement with pride until his final days. Walter retired from the military in 1997.

    His love for aviation inspired him to become a contractor for the 224th Military Intelligence Battalion. Adopting the name Waldo, he went on many deployments and met many friends during his time spent there. In his personal life, Walter was a man of few words. Although he was a quiet man, you could always see when he was deep in thought. Whenever something needed to be said, he always made his loved ones laugh with his quick wit.

    Behind that sometimes old grumpy man persona, he had the biggest heart. Walter was a big animal lover as he leaves behind his three dogs Sophie, Lulu, and Abby. Walter also seemed to be a turtle magnet as he would rescue any turtle he found. He was a very doting grandfather who loved his grandson, Anthony, and would get excited with the smallest things he would do.

    Walter will be deeply missed by his family, friends, and pets. He is predeceased by his parents and his son, Kenneth. He is survived by his wife, Nilsa Battisti, his two daughters, Angela Battisti, Barbara Battisti Bell, son in law Richard Bell, and his grandson, Anthony Bell.

    Rest Easy, Brother Thank You for all provided, yours was A Life Well-Spent in the Service of Others.
    We shall freshly Remember and Honor You today - Prayers Outbound for your Family!
    Never Forget! - Never Quit!
    NSDQ!
    Today is Walt B's Funeral/Memorial Service, info as follows: All family and friends are welcome to attend his service on January 6th, 2024, at 1:00p, at Forest Lawns Memory Garden in Savannah, GA. Please keep his family in your thoughts and prayers. Obituary info: Walter C Battisti, 70, of Savannah, GA, passed away on December 15th, 2023 after a battle with a brief illness. Walter was born on October 23rd, 1953 to Saturno and Angela Battisti in San Juan, PR. He joined the US Army in 1973 where he worked as a CH-47 Mechanic. Walter had an extensive and successful military career. He was incredibly proud of being in the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, which made a significant impact on his life. He carried this achievement with pride until his final days. Walter retired from the military in 1997. His love for aviation inspired him to become a contractor for the 224th Military Intelligence Battalion. Adopting the name Waldo, he went on many deployments and met many friends during his time spent there. In his personal life, Walter was a man of few words. Although he was a quiet man, you could always see when he was deep in thought. Whenever something needed to be said, he always made his loved ones laugh with his quick wit. Behind that sometimes old grumpy man persona, he had the biggest heart. Walter was a big animal lover as he leaves behind his three dogs Sophie, Lulu, and Abby. Walter also seemed to be a turtle magnet as he would rescue any turtle he found. He was a very doting grandfather who loved his grandson, Anthony, and would get excited with the smallest things he would do. Walter will be deeply missed by his family, friends, and pets. He is predeceased by his parents and his son, Kenneth. He is survived by his wife, Nilsa Battisti, his two daughters, Angela Battisti, Barbara Battisti Bell, son in law Richard Bell, and his grandson, Anthony Bell. Rest Easy, Brother Thank You for all provided, yours was A Life Well-Spent in the Service of Others. We shall freshly Remember and Honor You today - Prayers Outbound for your Family! Never Forget! - Never Quit! NSDQ!
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  • 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!
    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!
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  • https://www.military.com/benefits/burial-and-memorial/military-funeral-honors.html
    https://www.military.com/benefits/burial-and-memorial/military-funeral-honors.html
    WWW.MILITARY.COM
    Military Funeral Honors
    Military Funeral Honors are available for eligible veterans. A military funeral can be requested by the veterans family.
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  • Medal of Honor Recipients:
    Master Sergeant Woodrow Wilson Keeble (1917-1982) was a U.S. Army National Guard veteran of both World War II and the Korean War. He was a full-blooded member of the Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate of the Lake Traverse Reservation, a Sioux Native American tribe.
    Medal of Honor Recipients: Master Sergeant Woodrow Wilson Keeble (1917-1982) was a U.S. Army National Guard veteran of both World War II and the Korean War. He was a full-blooded member of the Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate of the Lake Traverse Reservation, a Sioux Native American tribe.
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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
    🌟 **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
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  • The OSS Society
    01, January 2019
    ‪OSS founder General William Donovan was born on this date in 1883. A Medal of Honor recipient, he is the only person in our nation’s history to receive its four highest decorations. President Eisenhower, upon learning of his death in 1959‬, called him the “last hero.”
    NOTE: POTUS Ike was not correct.
    NSDQ!
    The OSS Society 01, January 2019 ‪OSS founder General William Donovan was born on this date in 1883. A Medal of Honor recipient, he is the only person in our nation’s history to receive its four highest decorations. President Eisenhower, upon learning of his death in 1959‬, called him the “last hero.” NOTE: POTUS Ike was not correct. NSDQ!
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  • Lông Trắng, aka "White Feather Sniper"

    Legacy
    Hathcock remains a legend in the U.S. Marine Corps. The Gunnery Sergeant Carlos Hathcock Award is presented annually to the Marine who does the most to promote marksmanship training. A sniper range named for Hathcock is at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.

    In 1967 Hathcock set the record for the longest sniper kill. He used a M2 .50 Cal Browning machine gun mounting a telescopic sight at a range of 2,500 yd (2,286 m), taking down a single Vietcong guerilla. This record was broken in 2002, by Canadian snipers (Rob Furlong and Arron Perry) from the 3rd Bn. PPCLI during the War in Afghanistan.

    Hathcock was one of several individuals to utilize the M2 Browning machine gun in the sniping role. This success led to the adoption of the .50 BMG cartridge as a viable sniper round. Sniper rifles have since been designed around and chambered in this caliber since the 1970s. The Canadian Forces snipers from the PPCLI also used the .50 BMG round in their record-breaking shots.

    Springfield Armory designed a highly accurized version of their M1A Supermatch rifle with a McMillan Stock and match grade barrel and dubbed it the "M-25 White Feather". The rifle had a likeness of Hathcock's signature and his "white feather logo" marked on the receiver.

    Turner Saddlery similarly honored Hathcock by producing a line of leather rifle slings based on his design. The slings are embossed with Hathcock's signature.

    On March 9, 2007 the rifle and pistol complex at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar was officially renamed the Carlos Hathcock Range Complex.
    Lông Trắng, aka "White Feather Sniper" Legacy Hathcock remains a legend in the U.S. Marine Corps. The Gunnery Sergeant Carlos Hathcock Award is presented annually to the Marine who does the most to promote marksmanship training. A sniper range named for Hathcock is at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. In 1967 Hathcock set the record for the longest sniper kill. He used a M2 .50 Cal Browning machine gun mounting a telescopic sight at a range of 2,500 yd (2,286 m), taking down a single Vietcong guerilla. This record was broken in 2002, by Canadian snipers (Rob Furlong and Arron Perry) from the 3rd Bn. PPCLI during the War in Afghanistan. Hathcock was one of several individuals to utilize the M2 Browning machine gun in the sniping role. This success led to the adoption of the .50 BMG cartridge as a viable sniper round. Sniper rifles have since been designed around and chambered in this caliber since the 1970s. The Canadian Forces snipers from the PPCLI also used the .50 BMG round in their record-breaking shots. Springfield Armory designed a highly accurized version of their M1A Supermatch rifle with a McMillan Stock and match grade barrel and dubbed it the "M-25 White Feather". The rifle had a likeness of Hathcock's signature and his "white feather logo" marked on the receiver. Turner Saddlery similarly honored Hathcock by producing a line of leather rifle slings based on his design. The slings are embossed with Hathcock's signature. On March 9, 2007 the rifle and pistol complex at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar was officially renamed the Carlos Hathcock Range Complex.
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  • R.I.P. Daniel Baker 21, Justin Allen 23, Brett Linley 29, Matthew Weikert 29, Justus Bartett 27, Dave Santos 21, Jesse Reed 26, Matthew Johnson 21, Zachary Fisher 24, Brandon King 23, Christopher Goeke 23, and Sheldon Tate 27.... All are Marines who gave their lives for you this week in the Osprey crash. There's no media for them... not even a mention of their names. We’re too busy talking about trying to get “Baby It’s Cold Outside” off of the radio. Thank you all for your ultimate sacrifice.

    Please honor them by copying and pasting this post.
    R.I.P. Daniel Baker 21, Justin Allen 23, Brett Linley 29, Matthew Weikert 29, Justus Bartett 27, Dave Santos 21, Jesse Reed 26, Matthew Johnson 21, Zachary Fisher 24, Brandon King 23, Christopher Goeke 23, and Sheldon Tate 27.... All are Marines who gave their lives for you this week in the Osprey crash. There's no media for them... not even a mention of their names. We’re too busy talking about trying to get “Baby It’s Cold Outside” off of the radio. Thank you all for your ultimate sacrifice. Please honor them by copying and pasting this post.
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  • Born in 1921, Rice would volunteer for the Army in 1943 and head to Camp Toccoa, Georgia to become a paratrooper. Joining the 101st Airborne, and heading to England to train for Operation Overlord, eventually jumping into Normandy, securing roads and capturing Basse-Abbeville, France.

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

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

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

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

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

    www.wetsu.co
    Born in 1921, Rice would volunteer for the Army in 1943 and head to Camp Toccoa, Georgia to become a paratrooper. Joining the 101st Airborne, and heading to England to train for Operation Overlord, eventually jumping into Normandy, securing roads and capturing Basse-Abbeville, France. He would jump again on September 17th, 1944 into the Netherlands as part of Operation Market Garden. And then once again into the history books as part of The Battle of the Bulge where he would be shot twice by a German sniper. Rice would recover from his wounds in a hospital in Belgium and would be honorably discharged in December 1945. Returning home he taught social science and history. Had five children. And wrote his personal account of the war "Trial by Combat". He would jump as part of the 75th anniversary of D-Day in 2019 at Normandy, and then again into the Netherlands as part of the commemoration of Operation Market Garden. He was 97 years old. On his 100th birthday on August 15th, 2021, he celebrated by skydiving. www.wetsu.co
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  • https://www.cbsnews.com/news/lgbtq-military-veterans-honorable-discharge-benefit/
    https://www.cbsnews.com/news/lgbtq-military-veterans-honorable-discharge-benefit/
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5777 Views
  • 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
    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
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  • In Honor & Memory of Our Fallen…We Ride
    In Honor & Memory of Our Fallen…We Ride
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  • Truly honored to have been with the 160th Brotherhood, and escorted the official party to the ceremony today. The Legacy of these Night Stalkers will echo into eternity, because of these men. God bless the Gold Star Families and the men and women with a character that is louder than any threat to our Nation’s freedom. Kleos is what they leave behind, and we sing their names with every step toward the battlefield. Let our enemies hear the echoes of their deeds, and tremble as we descend on the wings of their names.

    NDSF!
    Truly honored to have been with the 160th Brotherhood, and escorted the official party to the ceremony today. The Legacy of these Night Stalkers will echo into eternity, because of these men. God bless the Gold Star Families and the men and women with a character that is louder than any threat to our Nation’s freedom. Kleos is what they leave behind, and we sing their names with every step toward the battlefield. Let our enemies hear the echoes of their deeds, and tremble as we descend on the wings of their names. NDSF!
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  • 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
    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
    WWW.CAMPBROWNBEARUSA.ORG
    CAMP BROWN BEAR
    veteran retreats, first responder retreats, pts, ptsd, tbi, recovery, holistic, camaraderie, equine therapy, yoga, meditation, acupuncture, thai chi, music therapy, art therapy, journaling, camp fire, relaxing, peaceful, stress free, physically active, recuperate, process trauma, army, navy, airforc
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  • A docuseries that I had the honor to be a part of . It was based on Faith and how it can affect us. They wanted the perspective of a Veteran for the first interview , so I gave it a try :
    A docuseries that I had the honor to be a part of . It was based on Faith and how it can affect us. They wanted the perspective of a Veteran for the first interview , so I gave it a try :
    Love
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  • There are some relationships that you never expect. Somehow, they become what holds you together. Grateful for my brother. Proud of how he has lead his family through so much with dignity and honor.
    There are some relationships that you never expect. Somehow, they become what holds you together. Grateful for my brother. Proud of how he has lead his family through so much with dignity and honor.
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  • https://www.militarytimes.com/military-honor/salute-veterans/2023/11/02/va-adds-5-million-more-veterans-to-online-legacy-project/
    https://www.militarytimes.com/military-honor/salute-veterans/2023/11/02/va-adds-5-million-more-veterans-to-online-legacy-project/
    WWW.MILITARYTIMES.COM
    VA adds 5 million more veterans to online legacy project
    The new names for the first time include veterans buried in private cemeteries all over the world.
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  • https://auburnpub.com/news/local/an-extreme-honor-auburn-veteran-95-lays-wreath-at-tomb-of-unknown-soldier/article_7665d5f2-7825-11ee-ba68-1b0ec4bd5a4c.html
    https://auburnpub.com/news/local/an-extreme-honor-auburn-veteran-95-lays-wreath-at-tomb-of-unknown-soldier/article_7665d5f2-7825-11ee-ba68-1b0ec4bd5a4c.html
    AUBURNPUB.COM
    'An extreme honor': Auburn veteran, 95, lays wreath at Tomb of Unknown Soldier
    As part of an Honor Flight event, a 95-year-old veteran in Auburn laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier last month.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4563 Views
  • This platform will create a voice for Veterans. Fall In will protect our legacy and provide teaching, training and mentorship throughout a service member’s life. As a trainee, as an operator and as a mentor, we need each other now more than ever and the country needs us to demonstrate what Duty, Honor and Country looks like through the eyes of a Warrior. We’ve crawled through mud, flown through bullets and lived through perpetual tragedy, so we can stand shoulder-to-shoulder and recruits can see they are the fortunate sons carrying Old Glory into victory. We will never forget those who have gone before us, and we will never stop fighting for those moving to the sound of the guns.
    This platform will create a voice for Veterans. Fall In will protect our legacy and provide teaching, training and mentorship throughout a service member’s life. As a trainee, as an operator and as a mentor, we need each other now more than ever and the country needs us to demonstrate what Duty, Honor and Country looks like through the eyes of a Warrior. We’ve crawled through mud, flown through bullets and lived through perpetual tragedy, so we can stand shoulder-to-shoulder and recruits can see they are the fortunate sons carrying Old Glory into victory. We will never forget those who have gone before us, and we will never stop fighting for those moving to the sound of the guns.
    0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 4933 Views
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