This ain't Hell, but you can see it from here

Author: Poetrooper

  • A President is Known by the Weapons He Chooses…

    Talk about a gaffe and a tell, “AK-47s belong in the hands of soldiers, not in the hands of criminals.” To the millions of American veterans who have faced multiple enemies around the globe who were armed with the AK 47, this is such a huge admission of where the loyalties of our supposed commander-in-chief lie as to make one want to choke. The President of the United States of America just identified what he believes to be the weapon of choice for military forces and guess what? It is in fact the weapon of choice of America’s enemies.

    The AK47 is probably the most significant icon of the hostile forces arrayed against America for the past six decades. I fought against the AK47 and felt its rounds cracking past me as I saw it take the lives of my fellow paratroopers in Vietnam. A half century later that same simple assault weapon is still being employed by Afghan, Somali and Yemeni enemies to kill and maim America’s warriors. This simple, stamped-metal, efficient weapon of choice of the leftist movements of the world has killed tens of thousands of Americans serving in uniform in multiple conflicts around the world for decades.

    If in fact the Colorado killer used an AK 47, then our really lame president should have noted that the assault weapon used in this slaughter was one used by America’s enemies for the past half century to thwart American interests around the globe, distributed indiscriminately by the Russians and China to any and all who would take up arms against the Great Satan. He should have made note that this is a weapon imported from Eastern Europe or Asia most likely, not an American weapon of choice. It is a garbage bin weapon easily acquired by any mad man in any country of the world.

    But no, in our president’s mind. our president of questionable origins, and truly questionable loyalties, the first mental leap was to the AK 47, the weapon of choice of those who would destroy America. You liberals can deny, tap dance and attempt to explain away until the cows come home, but this cow is has come into the barn. This political cow, our president, is a far leftist in whose mind the weapon of choice is the AK 47, a veritable symbol of violent revolutionary communism around the world. As a Vietnam veteran, I’m telling you, Barack Obama might as well have raised a red star communist flag. Those of us who know weaponry know that a man is known by the weapons he prefers and chooses.

    Barack Obama chose the most symbolic weapon of America’s enemies.

  • Firearms Inexperience May Have Saved Lives

    It’s being reported in the mainstream media that the casualty count in the Aurora shooting could have been much higher but for the fact that the shooter’s semi-auto rifle jammed. The Washington Post says authorities found a 100 round capacity drum magazine in the theater. While it doesn’t say whether the magazine was empty or how many unexpended rounds it contained, if it was not empty, it could well explain the malfunctioning of the rifle.

    Most of those familiar with military firearms know that drum magazines, while capable of providing a large ammunition capacity, have a long history of being prone to jamming more frequently than the more commonly used 20 or 30 round, straight-feed, box magazines. In fact, one of the main complaints about one of the most widely used weapons of WWII, the Russian PPSh-41 submachine gun, was the frequency with which its 71 round, drum magazine jammed during firefights. American troops had similar complaints about the less widely used Thompson submachine gun when equipped with a drum magazine.
    It is likely that the Aurora shooter was unfamiliar with this reality and was seeking maximum shooting capacity without having to reload, thus his selection of the 100 round, drum magazine. Fortunately for theater patrons who escaped being shot, the drum likely performed in accordance with its design’s reputation for unreliability.

    This magazine issue might have some legal bearing on the prosecution of the case if it can be shown he bought the drum magazine separate from the weapon, which could be construed to indicate he took additional, deliberate steps to achieve

  • We Don’t Need no Stinking Guns…

    We are told by liberals that we have no need for personal weapons because the police will protect us from violent criminals. We all know, without citing the endless litany, that the reality is that the police are most likely to arrive long after the perpetrators have fled, the police officers’ primary usefulness being to summon the ambulances and interview the still-living victims. Look at this most recent example of public violence claiming multiple lives in Colorado. The police chief is on air proudly proclaiming that his officers were on site within one minute. Well, that’s well and good except for what transpired prior to that minute.

    His officers weren’t there to shoot down this assassin the moment he opened fire on this collective group of victims, who were innocently and conveniently awaiting their victimhood.

    His officers weren’t there until the killer had completed his murderous slaughter and exited the slaughterhouse through the rear door. A minute? When a madman is firing into a helpless crowd with high-powered, automatic weapons, lives are literally measured in seconds and the one minute response time the chief is so proud of becomes a lifetime for those being targeted.

    So what is my point? Am I critical of the Aurora Police Department response? Hell no. What drives me to distraction is that no single individual in that theater was armed and responded to the criminally murderous force with rounds righteously delivered upon the body of the killer from any, any, member of the audience. One armed citizen could have made all the difference here. Yeah, the perp was armored up; so what? A full magazine of 9mm dumped into his armored-up figure would have been a series of hammer blows that most certainly would have altered his murderous course. Imagine yourself on the receiving end of a series of smacks from baseball bat delivered by a large and muscular fellow. That’s what being hit by 9mm rounds at close quarters is like. It’s a game changer and, yes, it could have changed this deranged asshole’s game.

    So what’s my point? An armed citizenry, that’s what. Had any one individual in that first few rows of victims had a side-arm that he/she pulled and put into immediate action, even blindly firing a full magazine without aiming, he might well have saved the day and who knows how many lives. He might not have killed the killer but he damned sure would have distracted his aim away from the innocents.

    The true American tragedy here is that so many lost their lives because no citizen had the foresight to come to that theater armed and ready to protect himself, his family and his fellow citizens, and yes, the American way of life. We are not a cowering people as our history shows, yet we are now in the thrall of a cowering culture and government that kneels to despots and invites violence upon its citizenry. It is not too much of a stretch to equate America to that theater audience in Aurora: helpless from horrific disaster, yet with our federal government but minutes away when seconds count.

    As the Democrats keep telling us, “We don’t need no stinking guns.”

  • “Lieutenant Dan, Reporting for Duty, Sir!”

    With the exceptions of Bob Hope and Martha Raye, there’s probably no other American who never served, who has served more. That person is Gary Sinise, actor, director, producer writer, musician, a bit of a down home, foot-shuffling, aw-shucks guy from the Midwest who has probably spent as much time in war zones as many members of our over-worked military, and certainly more than any Member of Congress. Sinise is one of those rare humans who is easy to sum up in quick terms: a really good guy. Or if you wish to add accolades as I’m sure many in the military would: a really damned good guy, among many other unpublishable terms of praise.

    The role Sinise played in Forrest Gump, that of Lieutenant Dan Taylor, an embittered, double-amputee veteran of Vietnam, made him, whether he wanted it to or not, forever a part of the military and veteran community. He wasn’t necessarily a hero, but simply someone with whom they could identify and find some hope and cause in their lives, through his spot-on depiction of the despair and resurrection of a horribly wounded veteran in a horribly wounded cause.

    To his everlasting credit, Gary Sinise, quietly accepted the burden of being the iconic, Lt. Dan, to one of the most emotionally and politically disquieted factions in America. Though he’d never worn the uniform, nor much less been in combat, he had thoroughly resonated as Lt. Dan with those who had, as well as the broader audience who had seen his screen depiction. In what I consider a bit of inspired creative and moral genius, in 2004, Sinise, along with Kimo Williams, created the Lt. Dan Band, and began playing to military audiences around the world.

    Since that time, Sinise has taken the Lt. Dan Band into combat zones repeatedly to entertain our combat-deployed troops. Few civilians ever attain the level of acceptance among the troops that Sinise has: Bob Hope,, Martha Ray and most assuredly, John Wayne; but few others are in that pantheon, and certainly no other contemporaries. And yes, part of it is attributable to the fictional role of Lt. Dan, but most of it is due to Sinise’s pure dogged determination to serve, uniform or no, as the real deal, a singing junior officer in arms, Lieutenant Dan, in the flesh, right there in the combat zone with them. As a Vietnam vet, that resonates mightily with me, as I’m sure it does with all my brothers and sisters of our war.

    As a country, we struggle to preserve and maintain our social structures that made us the great nation that we are.

    Regardless of your political views as to the wars we wage, Gary Sinise should be considered an American warrior of the first order in our national conflicts. In fact, should he ever get to the Pearly Gates and be asked if he is, in fact, Gary Sinise, I would advise him to say, “Nope, I’m Lieutenant Dan, reporting for duty, Sir!” Which no doubt will be followed by: “Well get your butt in here, Son; you’re definitely one of us.”

    Crossposted at American Thinker.

  • What Goes Around…

    As they say, what goes around comes around…and so it is with the military draft, which is receiving new attention primarily due to calls for its reinstatement from a general with high media visibility, Stanley Mc Chrystal. The general, who is too young to have had firsthand experience with draftees, reasons that a strictly professional force as we now have is not representative of our nation as a whole. And while that may be true, my own experiences as an NCO dealing with draftees in Vietnam leads me to the conclusion that the general ignores a few simple truths: America’s military forces have traditionally been volunteer, with conscription only resorted to during the Great Wars up until WWII when the program was left in place until being abandoned during the waning years of the Vietnam War. Conscription has been in place in only a small fraction of America’s military history.

    I believe GEN Mc Chrystal also ignores the fact that our highly professional fighting force is representative of those Americans whose upbringing and personal beliefs make them want to serve, young Americans who value service to their country above their own lives and possible civilian careers.

    Our volunteer forces are also representative of those possessing the courage to serve in frequent combat, an issue that was quite controversial back during my war where many of us voluntarily serving suspected that many young draft age men were hiding behind the anti-war protests for much less noble reasons than those they advanced publicly. As the following essay I wrote back in 2006 illustrates, our suspicions were not baseless. Jonn has graciously allowed me to dust off this old piece to run by his readers. I’m sure there are a few here like Zero and 1stCav who’ve seen it before but most of you probably have not.

    Before you read this, please understand that I am not condemning all draftees, many of whom served well and courageously in past wars including my own. However, as the piece below points out, during the Vietnam draft, many who were motivated more by fear than philosophy were able to evade and avoid. However many who were similarly motivated by fear were caught in the government net and impressed into service. Of those, we will never know the total impact their presence had on the morale and performance of the units in which they served, especially the ground combat units. My personal observation was that some draftees accepted their fate and soldiered well but many others were highly risk averse and did only the minimum required of them to complete their tour. Keep in mind, I’m writing purely from my own perspective and in no way claim to be speaking for other Vietnam veterans. Here’s my original piece from 2006:

    Good Enough to Die For

    I have just read a mea culpa by Vietnam War protestor, novelist and poet, Pat Conroy, http://www.familysecuritymatters.org/homeland.php?id=397352, (link no longer works) who possesses the literary skills to express what I am willing to bet many other older American males, his former brothers at the barricades, also feel, but lack the skills and the honesty to articulate. It is left to men like the politically born again David Horowitz and novelist Conroy to speak for these old troupers of the Left’s long-haired legions, to reveal their long hidden recognition that they were possibly misguided in their protesting but more often than most will ever admit, motivated more by fear of serving in combat than by any sense of moral/political rectitude.

    For that reason this is an issue that reverberates only within the ranks of male protestors of that era. For the braless, hygiene and make-up challenged young women of the movement, there existed no threat of death or disfigurement in combat, so the purity of their motives is questionable only in the intellectual, not the moral sense. They may have been naïve fools but they weren’t hiding a blushing personal cowardice behind the skirts of world socialism. This then, is an issue of character only for these now old, graying men who, like Conroy, must eventually face the moral consequences of their actions in those turbulent days.

    As someone who, like most of us, has experienced events in my life where I now wish that I had shown more moral and physical courage, more honesty, and most importantly, more unquestioning love and understanding of family, I know how those failures live with you long after the memories of trying to do so many things right have dimmed. Many of my lapses involved nothing more than minor events where I failed to speak up, or stand up and be counted, or even stand up and be knocked down; but regardless of their minor nature, it is these life events that forever remain active in my psyche. In my mid-sixties now, I have learned all too well that it’s not the fights you won or even the fights you lost that keep niggling away at the edges of your conscience: it’s the fights you failed to fight when you knew damned well that you should.

    Deceased author John D. MacDonald, who wrote the wonderful Travis McGee mystery series, once explained through his fictional hero, McGee, the way to make correct moral decisions and it is a simple wisdom that has stayed in my brain, but not always exemplified by my behavior, through the remainder of my life. It is nothing more than this: do the hard thing. When faced with tough choices, look to that course of action which is the one you want least to follow because it appears to be the most difficult for you; it may hurt personally, but almost always, it is the right course for you to follow for the good of others.

    My belief is that a lot of Vietnam War protestors were rightfully fearful of the physical perils of combat, as were all those of us who chose to serve there; but where we tamped down those fears and continued the mission, they wrongfully used a contrived moral outrage against the war as convenient cover to conceal their cowardice. To buttress that theory one simply has to look at how the huge, angry protests diminished, and ultimately disappeared in a remarkably short time once Congress ended the military draft. As young, draft-age men, all those angry protestors were able at the time to righteously rationalize away their true motivation until Congress stole their alibi, and only now, with the awareness and self-accounting that comes with age, are they, like Pat Conroy, facing the truth of their personal cowardice. Sadly, too late, they have come to realize the truth of Conroy’s most perceptive quote:

    “America is good enough to die for even when she is wrong.”

    I believe those are words worthy of being carved into every war memorial in America. And I am thankful that I and all my brothers and sisters at arms who served then, and those who serve now, possessed then and now, but even in our callow youth, the intrinsic wisdom to recognize that truth. All Americans must die, but those who understand this fundamental reality about this very unique nation will die with their chins held just a few degrees higher than those who didn’t realize it when they should have, but now do, like Conroy and his legions, and sadly, those young people of today who still do not.

  • Mea Culpa? Well Maybe…

    Based on the response to my most recent post, Feats of Clay, it is obvious we’re going to have to clear the air here at TAH if I’m going to continue posting. As an old soldier who first began writing for the Internet in support of the Swift Boat Veterans back in 2004, I’ve come in for my fair share of criticism. When it comes from my liberal detractors I shrug it off as meaningless and inconsequential. For them I’ve developed a hard shell. I must confess, however, when it comes from fellow soldiers and veterans, it tends to sting a bit, especially when it is misdirected friendly fire.
    First off, I am, in fact, a cantankerous old fart (a recent examining physician referred to me as irascible) with little respect for timidity or false bravado. If you believe something then be prepared to stand up and say so and then, more importantly, be able to defend what you say. I realize that many people aren’t capable of doing that by lack of forcefulness in personality. However, I’m not one of those which is why I sit here pounding this damned keyboard into expositions of my views which many of you seem to like but some of you don’t.

    As has been pointed out to Ol’ Poetrooper by editors, if your humorous writing is not perceived as humorous by the majority of your readers and you find yourself having to explain it, then you are not a very good writer of humor, so it is best to stay away from that genre. That’s good advice. However, irascible old bastard that I am, I find that constraint upon my writing difficult to observe, having been possessed since childhood with a bent toward dark, sarcastic (yes some would call it black) humor that resulted in my Army superiors frequently referring to me as Sergeant Wiseass and more than a few of my professors, especially the lefties, definitely unamused by my caustic observations.

    So periodically I return to the keyboard, hell-bent on being darkly (dare I use that word, Insipid?) funny. Obviously with this most recent piece, Feats of Clay, I failed. Few readers understood the word play of feats for the black idiomatic usage, “feets,” and the references to Greek mythology were over the top, with the upshot being I was called from the very first comments a racist and my supposedly humorous piece attacked as a racist rant and diatribe. Worse, some of you questioned Jonn for allowing the posting of such a racist rant.

    If you read my own comment following the post, you will see I am not about to allow the Left to control my speech. When the liberal trolls such as Insipid, feel free by dint of their liberal bonafides to smack us in the face with the term Nigger, which by rules of political correctness only liberals like Insipid and blacks may use, I say screw you. If I want to use that term of invective in my writings to make a point, I damned well will, liberal scorn be damned. A society where only certain persons and groups within that society can use a specific word is not a free society. Here’s what LTC Allen West, a black politician I support, has to say on the topic:

    “I don’t care about my critics; I understand that my country is at a very perilous situation and I’m going to use the type of words that are necessary to get the attention of the American people.”

    Bravo, Master-Blaster, a paratrooper politician who always wears his master parachutist wings on his suit lapels, something no other of his congressional colleagues can or would do.

    Colonel West also said this:

    I really feel that it is demeaning to me to think that I need some individual to justify me and my existence. Look, I went through 22 years being in the military, I rose to the rank of Lt. Colonel, I have a bachelor and 2 masters degrees. And for these white liberals to believe they can have this condescending manner toward black conservatives that we need to have approval from our quote unquote, I guess “masters”, for us to be able to speak–see that’s where the true racism really lies, governor, is with the white liberals who don’t want to see someone such as myself that broke away from their dependency class and is out here and able to possibly contend against them with the policies that they are promoting that’s destroying the black community. I know I’m their #1 target and it just emboldens me to speak out even stronger.”

    Sorry old racist bastard that I am to some of you, I’m getting ready to send the good colonel another campaign contribution and I’m ready to write another supportive blog post for him. While I don’t think he has the political experience to be Romney’s VP selection, I do think he would be an excellent Secretary of the Army in the Romney Administration. I have little doubt that he would do a tent fumigation of the Pentagon, sending all those politically correct roaches entrenched there running to a well-deserved drowning in the Potomac. Maybe he could just have orders cut sending them all to Ranger School, male and female alike. Yeah, that ought to please all the libs agitating for the feminization of our military. Gee, maybe I am self-censoring: the first expression that came to mind was the castration of our military.

    So those of you who were too quick to label Ol’ Poetrooper a racist, need to walk away from this with a couple of thoughts: I’m not a racist and being called one by liberals doesn’t faze me a bit. However, when it comes from fellow warriors I feel the bite. I kid you not, it hurts. Secondly, and more importantly, just like Allen West, I won’t curb my opinions or my writings to conform to some liberal (or too-sensitive conservative) imposed concept of civility. I do not write to offend needlessly but I sure as hell will not self-censor because my writings might hurt some tender sensibilities on either side of the political spectrum. Consider the Poetrooper to be an equal opportunity offender.

    And from my observation of TAH postings, if you’re too eager to be offended, you’re probably at the wrong blog.

  • Feats of Clay…

    Think about it for a moment: If that black half of Obama’s brain is as brilliant as all his impassioned people-of-color and liberal, white devotees credit him with, then the other half must be the most lacking white intellect ever to occupy the Oval Office. Seriously, folks, we’ve been told for years now that this supposedly all-knowing, Athena-wise character, Obama, who seems to have sprung like that goddess, full-blown from some unknown head of Whoziss, is the brightest light in every room, if not every country in the world. Yet, through the past three-plus years, we mere mortals have witnessed national and global events that lead us to believe this bright, shining god has some really big feats of clay. And perhaps an intellect of the same sticky substance.

    Far from the ObaMoses he presented himself as being to the world, a tan, man-god who could, among other feats, command the seas to do his bidding, our pinto-gened president, has revealed himself to be much more like the pale, foiled and wet-footed King Canute than the desert-darkened biblical savior of god’s chosen people. Yeah, his Canutian feats are all wet now and they appear to be swelling painfully and perhaps fatefully as this Janus-like, dubious deity finds it increasingly difficult to show first one face and then another, even to the shrinking crowds of ambrosia drinkers (that’s Kool-Aid for those of you out there in Rio Linda) who seem to be awakening. They, somewhat later than the rest of us, are becoming aware of the growing odor of this guy’s malodorous feats when we catch him with his political sneakers off.

    Yes, even among some of the fervent disciples, there is a growing realization that a sun-bright brilliant, black cerebral hemisphere combined with a truly dim-bulb white hemisphere (and yes, as whites, surely we all must accept the collective blame for that failure in spite of his being granted every affirmative action, educational advantage our nation has to offer) is going to yield a really mediocre result in governance and leadership, somewhere at the level of say, um, maybe an admirably and slightly above-grade performance community organizer, hmm? Perhaps even a mediocre, present-voting, Democrat state senator.

    But that could only be in Illinois or California, of course.
    In 2012, Publicus Americanus, is awakening to its own 2008 folly of believing that a god had returned to earth to save us from our myriad follies. Almost four years into the political continuum, they have had ample opportunity to learn one of the fundamental lessons of the ancients:
    Men who would be gods all too often trod across our world with feats of clay.

  • Of Sham Sheepdogs and Stolen Valor

    Some have served though most have not;
    Taken all in all, they’re a sorry lot,
    Who lie to find their missing needs,
    Promote themselves on others’ deeds.

    While cooks and clerks they may have been;
    They dream themselves as fighting men.
    And not content to be just grunts,
    They expose themselves through foolish stunts.

    While any combat should be enough;
    They need to prove they’re really tough.
    To get their glory, to seal the deal,
    It’s Ranger, SF or Navy SEAL.

    And even there, they’re not content
    With claims of service false and bent;
    To bolster lives of lack and pallor,
    They make false claims to deeds of valor.

    In uniforms so bright adorned,
    With unearned honors all suborned,
    They always give away their games
    With lofty medals, shameless claims.

    They always go a bridge too far,
    Revealing who they really are;
    Til we cut them at their sorry knees,
    These phony warrior wannabees.

    We sheepdogs know who is our foe:
    The wolves who bring our flocks to woe;
    But also shams as sheepdogs clothed,
    Worth only scorn and to be loathed.

    And while our highest court has ruled
    These fakers’ right to keep us fooled;
    All sheepdogs now must join the fight
    And let these phonies feel our bite.