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

Category: Historical

  • Book review: Out of Captivity

    I hate writing book reviews, but every once in a while, I read a book that  just stands out from a lot of stuff that passes for literature these days. That’s the case of “Out of Captivity” written by Marc Gonsalves, Tom Howes, Keith Stansell about their nearly 2,000 days as prisoners and hostages of the Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionario de Colombia – FARC.

    Gonsalves, Howes and Stansell were contractors flying reconnaissance for the US government over FARC’s cocaine fields when their aircraft malfunctioned and crashed. Though all five of the occupants survived the crash, two were killed out right by FARC guerrillas and the remaining three became pawns in a huge political game.

    The first quarter of the book is about their first forty days – an arduous march through the thick, mountainous jungles of Colombia. A weeks-long struggle against the jungle and the guerillas while they were forced by their captors to avoid detection by the Colombian army – their salvation and their death sentence. Living on blocks of sugar, packets of Saltine crackers and brown water, fighting infection from the injuries of the crash they plod and carry each other further into the jungle.

    The interpersonal relationships between the Americans, the Colombians, FARC guerrillas and Colombian Army are a fascinating study.

    Aside from being an excellent story about the human spirit, it’s very well-written so that I felt hungry, haggard and trapped as they recount their ordeal.

    So now that I’ve convinced you to buy the book, please buy it from the Amazon links in my sidebar so you cheapskates can support this blog (see, that’s why I’m not in sales). “Out of Captivity” is listed in the ad entitled “I recommend” – those things are all books, movies and stuff I own or read.

    No matter where you buy this book, though, you must  read it.

  • On the East German Border

    On the East German Border

    A cross section view of the border

    This October will mark the 20th Anniversary of the fall of the “Iron Curtain” that divided Europe for twenty eight years. Some of us spent a good portion of our young lives on the “bayonet point of western democracy” patrolling and observing the communists on the other side of that arbitrary and very visible line. Here’s a true account of the events of one day that I wrote for the History Channel’s veterans’ project about a decade ago. All of these pictures are mine, too;

    A US patrol sets out one misty March morning in 1982. That’s the border at the barrier in the road ahead.

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  • The Lost Battalion and Major Charles W. Whittlesey

    I’m always inspired by stories of personal strength, especially when the story involves leadership. There are few that can equal the five days that Major Charles Whittlesey and his battlalion, the 308th Infantry of the 77th Infantry Division, endured in the Argonne Forest during October 1918. The good Major led 550 men into an attack of a German position and was immediately cut off inside enemy lines. By the sheer force of his will, he held together his battalion against daily ferocious attacks by a determined enemy, following the last order he was given. Without a chance of resupply of food and ammunition and tethered to his headquarters only by the use of carrier pigeons, the 308th fought off the Germans day after day, at times hand to hand.

    Frustrated by their inability to overcome the tiny force, the Germans offered Whittlesey the chance to surrender. He refused and continued to fight off attacks until he was finally relieved. 194 men of the original 550 walked out of that battle with him.

    The citation;
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  • 18 years ago tonight

    COB6 wrote a few weeks ago about the friendly fire incident that we were involved in 18 years ago tonight. It was a week before the ground portion of Desert Storm and we were a lone infantry battalion facing the Iraqi Army about ten miles inside Iraq on a counter-reconnaissance mission screening for the XVIIIth Airborne Corps sweep behind us to the western desert.

    COB6’s platoon was on my south flank and there was a scout section and a GSR section on his south flank. That’s who was hit in this video;

    COB6 was the first officer on the scene (and he went to the scene despite our idiot commander’s order for him to remain in place). COB6 and his crew rushed into the burning armored vehicles and recovered the crews trapped inside the Bradley and M113 and initiated their treatment.

    I mention this mostly because several of my old platoon members have suddenly burst back into my life on Facebook after all of these years and as you can imagine, it’s been the topic of conversation today. They were a damn good platoon. A scant few months after we got back to Germany, a composite squad from the platoon went to a USAEUR squad competition and came out on top and were named the best infantry squad in Europe without any help from me. I’ve always been proud of them. Of course, now they’ll all come here and beclown themselves in public.

    Snagged this photo from (my former gunner and therefore accustomed to me helping myself to his stuff without asking) Dassaro’s Facebook album;

    Also, 18 years ago tonight, my granddaughter was born in Panama – I didn’t find out until a few months later

  • Moatengators; remember Venado DZ?

    Moatengators

    I know there are some old Moatengators out there from A Co. (ABN) 3/5th Infantry and later from the 508th PIR who were stationed at Fort Kobbe in Panama and became intimate with navigating through Venado DZ’s twelve foot elephant grass at the end of the Howard AFB air strip.

    Some pictures I lifted of Venado from someone’s webpage;

    Well, I went out there yesterday to reminisce about the old days. Here’s what the leading edge of the DZ looks like now;

    It’s kind of a strip mall of tourist stores with a few bars (yeah!) mixed in. The place we went to eat had great chuletta (pork chops) .

    For those of you that don’t know the stories about Venado DZ, I’ll fill you in. The aircraft would approach from the south (over the Pacific) and the light would go green as the plane crossed over the beach. Inevitably, the first jumper would end up in the ocean. Since the Bay of Panama is reputed to have about 1000 sharks per square mile, there’d be a rescue team in the ocean in a row boat (usually dirty, nasty legs from one of the other companies) who would take their sweet time rowing the boat over to the panicky jumper. If a shark did show up, they could use the oars to drive him away. You think I’m joking, right? It was so common for us to land in the ocean, we practiced Huey jumps into Gatun Lake (super-Hollywood; PT shorts and T-shirts and jungle boots and no equipment). That way we’d be able to practice not drowning without the added feature of shark attacks.

    We’re talking about an airborne company that used to jump with their mascot – a live Panamanian crocodile (cayman) wrapped in a mattress cover and strapped in under the reserve parachute of a volunteer NCO. We had a gator pit (built with “volunteer labor” from the extra duty personnel) alongside the company’s barracks that was home three caymans when I was there.

    The patch in the picture at the top of this post was worn on the left pocket of our jungle OD’s.

  • My night with heroes (aka, how creepy TSO really is)


    (My photographer was Speedbump6Romeo, and you can see how well that turned out)

    When I went to the 2000 inaugural ball, I found myself at the event drinking with Walter Ehlers, Medal of Honor recipient from the 1st ID in the week following D-Day. We were throwing down adult beverages at quite the prolific rate when he turned and asked me “Son, you ain’t *funny* are you?” “Funny sir? No, I’m not funny.” “Then why in the hell are you sitting with an old man when there are so many hot young women around.” It seemed a good point. Hell, even now it seems a good point.

    So yesterday, I went with the one intent of meeting Mr Lemon, discussed in this earlier post. I saw him in the lobby, and as stated before, the man wasn’t hard to recognize, what with being 6′-1″ and bald. So, I went up, introduced myself, explained our blog and my post from the other day. Talked about his Canadian heritage, etc. And he said, “Do you always just jump strangers in the hotel lobby and recite their autobiography?”

    That’s when it hit me that I really am a creep. It also occurred to me that I can talk to 6-1 Medal of Honor recipients with no problem, but a 5-3 redhead, and ordering delivery food on my cell both scare the bejesus out of me

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  • My experiences at Inauguration parades [Jonn]

    I got the idea for this post from one at Ace of Spades wherein Ace reminds us that President Bush’s limo was pelted with eggs at his first Inauguration. In 2001, my first ever Inauguration parade, my wife and I had flown in the night before from my son’s basic training graduation in San Antonio – a pretty wild trip seein’s how every single Texan was headed to DC on the same plane.

    There was so much animosity towards President Bush, Free Republic organized a “Support Bush” rally (can you imagine having to organize a “support Obama” rally?) on Inauguration day in front of the Supreme Court and there were only a hand full of supporters – which gave me the opportunity to chat with David Horowitz and Jesse Peterson.

    After that rally, we went down to stand near the Navy Memorial on Pennsylvania Avenue and wait the three hours for the parade. While we waited there, we were surrounded by hippies and sign-toting anarchists who made frequent trips to a nearby coffeeshop to get themselves caffeined up for the days events.

    Through the crowd, I saw a hippie climbing the flag pole at the Memorial to get the flag there. He finally got it down and a Black man nearby tried to get the flag away from the hippie. He was immediately knocked to ground and beaten by other hippies. An elderly woman tried to stop them, and she, too was knocked to the ground. Several of us tried to force our way through the crowd to stop the fight (and kick some hippie ass), but the little cowards fled, and despite the huge police presence, they escaped without being apprehended.

    In 2005, I went to the parade again. Attendence was up, but mostly because of the increased participation by the anti-war crowd who didn’t hesitate to shout and call names at everyone who didn’t have an anti-Bush  sign. I was pushed and shoved because I wouldn’t take a sign they tried to give me. Of course the little cowards danced away before they could get their complimentary black-eye. Those of us who tried to cheer for President Bush and the First Lady as they drove by the throngs lining the streets were forced to the background by the sign-wielding crowd.

    Can you imagine if any of those events had happened yesterday?

    Oh, by the way, today is the 32d Anniversary of Jimmy Carter’s blanket amnesty for draft dodgers.

  • Today in history [Jonn]

    231 years ago today, George Washington led a ragged Army into winter “quarters” at Valley Forge, PA. They’d suffered several defeats in the preceding months, supplies were dwindling and foraging was becoming sparse. To the ragged 12,000-man Army, it seemed the Revolution was nearly over. The following Spring, George Washington wrote;

    To see the men without clothes to cover their nakedness, without blankets to lie upon, without shoes…without a house or hut to cover them until those could be built, and submitting without a murmur, is a proof of patience and obedience which, in my opinion, can scarcely be paralleled.

    It took six weeks to build the one thousands huts they needed to escape the winter elements (the logs for which had to be dragged from four miles away) and their main source of nourishment was “firecakes”, a charitable name for flour and water baked on a rock near the fire.

    George Washington repeatedly call on support from Congress which never came. The Army survived solely on the force of their collective will and emerged from the winter stronger than ever and survived for 231 more years.

    Also, Gateway Pundit reminds us that 10 years ago today Bill Clinton was impeached for a purely selfish act.