The Waitress From Hell.

I've met the Waitress from Hell
She has a face like a dog and a head like a bell
I'll admit she has a great looking ass
But I never even thought to think about Class.
Big Brother said something I liked
When he did my curiosity spiked
He said she looked good all over the place
"Good everywhere, that is, But her face"
That's when the light bulb became very bright
Her new nickname to me, seemed so right.
Leland solved the problem of this particular case
And we now refer to her as Old Butterface.

Addressing the most recent attack on my person.

Y'all hold on for a bit and I promise to tell you a story about this recent verbal attack on my family. Apparently, my attacker hasn't done much homework on the Butler Family and what happens to those who attack us. I did some writing earlier today but decided that I need to calm down a bit more before I put it on the blog. Too much cussin' on my part. Be advised, as Dupe says: 'I didn't go to jail and I wasn't even arrested". This ain't over yet, the games are just about to begin. Congratulations to me cause I'm gonna win.

Thanks to the Fighter Pilots

I recently read an article that referred to the Thanksgiving holiday we spent in 1970 when we were in Vietnam. Most of my friends at that time were helicopter pilots. We were flying the UH 1 Huey , the OH 6 Loach and the AH 1 Cobra.

November and December of 1970 was a very tough time for us. I almost bought the farm in November in a hot LZ near Xuan Loc. Not long after that, in December, Lt. Dan Coombs and Specialist Joe Blickenstaff were killed in action while flying the OH 6, the same aircraft type that I was flying at the time.

Thanksgiving has always been a time for being thankful for my family. Back then we were simply wondering if we would have turkey on that day. As it turned out, I only remember having shrimp in a Styrofoam cup and being very happy about that. We were always on call to respond to any attack at any time and Thanksgiving didn't mean anything to the NVA or the Viet Cong. Despite that, I don't recall flying on that day.

In any event, as I think about those times I think that I'm way overdue in thanking the fighter pilots of the USAF and the USN for keeping the skies clear of enemy fighters.

The anti aircraft fire was bad enough. There were many of us who were shot to pieces by small arms fire. The lucky ones like me, ended up flying our helicopters back to base even though it looked like Swiss cheese when we landed. Bullet holes everywhere. There were others that made it back to base but didn't return in the same helicopter they left in. Those were so badly shot up it was a miracle that they weren't killed in the crash.

There were others who survived but never made it back to base because they were so badly burned they had to be medically evacuated to Japan and then to the burn center in Denver. Others were hit but survived their bullet wounds and were also evacuated back to the United States. Some of those (Ted) still suffer from those wounds today.

There was only one circumstance where I was involved in air to air combat. That happened at the Chup Rubber Plantation in Cambodia when a VNAF (South Vietnamese Air Force) pilot was strafing civilians in a field near the Chup. I was ordered to shoot him down but he spoke English, heard the order and as I was making a right hand turn to bring my mini gun sights to his cockpit, he bugged out and flew back to Vietnam. I may be the only pilot in Vietnam that was ever ordered to shoot down a fighter bomber that was supposed to be on our side.

With the luxury afforded us by time, I think the only way we could have survived air attacks by the North Vietnamese would have been through tactics that allowed us to split our formations and attack by concentrating our mini guns on him as he dove in to attack. Many of them carried heat seeking missiles and machine gun fire from Migs weren't typical.

Regardless of how you look at it, I never saw a single Mig roll in to shoot me down and I am ever thankful to the many fighter pilots that made that happen. Thanks to all you fast movers.

Amnesty, 180 degrees off course.

I've had all of this talk about amnesty that I can take.

I recently watched a documentary on the Military Channel that turned on the light bulb for me. It was titled: "When Hitler Invaded America". Talk about illegal immigration! That was pretty clear.

I'm not against immigration but I am totally against uncontrolled immigration. On second thought, I'm getting closer to a position that totally eliminates all immigration. Even hotels put out signs that say "Full" or "No Vacancy". 

I think the recent murders committed by a guy that had already been deported twice, pretty much makes my case. Not all of them are murderers but that isn't the question. The real question is: "Which ones are murderers".

Through the years, I've been asked my opinion about a number of difficult situations. Often times, my answer to questions that were extremely difficult to solve, was "don't do anything right now".  I always suggest that "time" is needed to make an intellectual decision especially for things that involve emotional situations.

I don't think illegal immigration should be considered as an emotional situation. Freedom is still there but trying to reach this Country has a methodology to it and to side step those procedures is illegal. Pretty simple. If the cop killer had been stopped at the border, the murders would never have taken place.

Now comes the question of "What if?". After that, we should find a follow up question that asks "When do we the people start"?

"What if" a very small percentage of illegal immigrants are murderers? We already know the answer to that but we certainly don't see that being talked about as much as it should be.

What if nothing changes and the flood of illegals continues to flow across the border? That's when the "When do we start" part of the equation begins.

The guy in Texas whose family member was killed had an answer that I liked a lot. He decided that he would put up signs and simply shoot those that came onto his property. After having a family member killed, I doubt that a jury of his peers would convict him of anything if he shot and killed the perps.

It's not just a few that are causing the problems. There are so many, we're actually spending 3 times more tax payer dollars taking care of them than we spend on Veterans that have been hurt defending our freedoms. What the hell is that all about and who in God's name set up that deal?

Lila Parton, a Lokota Indian face book friend that I connect with through the 11th Armored Cav, would probably have a few choice words to say about immigration.

I understand that the Japanese don't allow any immigration among certain barbarian groups that we aren't allowed to name without fear of offending them. It seems to me that if you deported all of the immigrant population that belongs to that group of murderers and Infidel haters, we wouldn't have any immigrant problem at all.

In any event, I'm pretty tired of all this crap. My cousin Mike sent a video of some idiot waving an ISIS flag at Berkley. I say that the best solution to the problem at Berkley is to shut it down and make it a homeless shelter for homeless Veterans.

Further to that, buy them a plane ticket instead of buying plane tickets for the family members of illegal aliens to come here so they can join their illegal families.

Ugh, it's hopeless. It's going to take a knock down drag out fight to stop this. History pretty much proves that. Make sure that your powder is dry. The fecal matter is getting closer and closer to the oscillating device.

Let's Blame This On Neil Young, "Almost Cut My Hair" and other protest songs.

Roger says that some people at the hospital would consider me to be a "Study Aholic". It wasn't a negative comment. It was a compliment that was made in appreciation for me giving him the source documents I used to dig up all the facts I uncovered through my studies of the Vietnam War.

I will be the first one to admit that I tore up the 93rd Congress and their method of undoing the Paris Peace Accords. I did that because they deserved it. I raised more hell about Jane Fonda, the SDS and all the protest marches but anyway you look at it, you have to call a spade a spade and I don't think that I've made any statements that I couldn't back up with dates, bills and the guilty parties.

Some people argue with their hearts but I try to debate things by demonstrating my position to be true. I'm not being hard headed but I will admit that I'm most anxious to hear any comment countering my position so I can open up the documents that I use to make my conclusions. It has been somewhat frustrating as there are so many out there that simply don't get it or understand. It cost me a friendship in the 80s but it didn't cost me my standards and that's a good thing.

Recently, Mike Rose came to town and we had a long talk about standards. I was trying to grow a pony tail and look like the warrior that Mel Gibson was in Brave Heart and The Patriot. My plan included buying some of that paint to put on my face so I could look like a crazy man when ISIS comes to town.

From that standpoint, it was well intended. From a standpoint of "Right Now" it was butt ugly and driving me crazy. I gave up on that, went to the barber shop and got a buzz cut. I went to Google, plugged into a lot of protest songs like "Almost Cut My Hair" and many others like the Animals "We Gotta Get Outta This Place" and John Fogerty's "Run Through The Jungle". I like the part where  he said "The Devil's On The Loose".

Even though I changed direction from looking like a mad man to being a mad man with a starched shirt and a buzz cut, I concluded that my standards stayed in tact and I would blend in better the way I've always been instead of looking like a crazy hippy. The more I thought about it, the more I liked being me. Despite my failure to accomplish my goal the way I initially thought I should, I realized that I had to think out of the box and find another path to do something about all of the things that are so screwed up today.

Even though we don't have protest songs like we used to, I still think that we should have large protest marches against unchecked immigration and the political correctness that prevents us from calling a spade a spade when it comes to these rag heads. With the recent results from the voting booths I think that America is pretty sick of it too.

For those of you that have kept up with some of the things I've written and some of the videos Steve Dupuy produced on Vimeo where I slammed the guilty parties, I've been thinking about asking him to produce another video of a protest song with me playing the guitar and singing about my thoughts. Tim Jr wrote the music years ago but don't know how to use words like "assholes" and "baby killers"
without getting into trouble. I'll work on that and maybe I can come up with something humorous like Ray Stevens used to write.

Friday is cleaning day and I have to get ready for Marilyn's arrival so I gotta go. Just needed to make a point about maintaining a standard while changing directions to achieve a goal. See y'all later. tb

Surprise Birthday Party and the Naked Voodoo Doll.

November 4th is actually my birthday but Blame it on Bob was neck deep in this deception and somehow or another, even after I WAS THE ONE that picked the restaurant, it turned out to be a surprise birthday party.

I didn't have a clue, not even the foggiest idea that it was going to unfold the way it did. I saw Joey's truck in the parking lot but that didn't ring a bell because we eat with him as much as possible. He's a crew member on a hot air balloon team and has been gone for a month so I was glad to see he was going to join us.

When Melissa and I were walking in the door I heard the beginning of a Happy Birthday To You rendition coming from the southwest corner of El Compadre's dinning room. That's when I saw the table full of my crew from the Dixie Garden days. The crowd of patrons began to clap and cheer and I responded loudly with "It's NOT my birthday". That didn't work and I figured that everybody knew I had been busted.

Joey was at the head of the table sitting next to Blame it on Bob's wife Lila. She's a certified fox and probably sat there to make sure she wouldn't get hit during the food fight that she thought would come. Wayne and Danita Woodruff, my former next door neighbors were there as was Sue Allender, my neighbor on the other side of the house. I should have smelled a rat when I noticed that her husband John was missing but I didn't.

When Melissa and I sat down, birthday cards starting to surface from everybody and one of them had a naked man running across the front of it with a caption that said: "Remember, what happens on your birthday has a good chance of showing up on face book tomorrow". That's when the Voodoo Doll showed up.

They said that John Allender was the culprit behind that but you have to remember, when you are in the company of Blame it on Bob, the assumption that he's behind everything, is the norm. I didn't know it then but I eventually found out that Melissa was talking to Bob while she and I were riding in the car earlier that day and they were speaking in code. He would ask some question about time and she would answer with "Yes, I have six of them". Code talkin' from my own girl.

As it turned out, Sue told us that John bought it down south somewhere and he was in Lafayette working the horse race track. He's the Equine Vet there.

They began to explain how the Voodoo doll worked but when they mentioned Lafayette, I told them a story about a Voodoo practitioner that used to spray bleach all over the rock crusher when he came to work at the crushing plant I had built there during the 80s. He told us that it insured that the evil spirits would not bother him if that was done on a daily basis.

Sue began to explain that she made the costume that the Voodoo doll was wearing and when she did, she said that the doll was naked when she got it from John. That was all I needed as some of the patrons near us were watching everything that was going on and in a loud voice I said: "This woman plays with naked Voodoo dolls".

She explained that the white pins were for good things and the black pins were for bad things. I pulled out the black pin and shoved it up the Voodoo doll's ass and began chanting Nancy Pelosi, Diane Slimestein and a few other choice individuals that needed a needle in the ass. Lila, Wayne and Danita were laughing but Sue began to have that look on her face that said: "Oh my God, what have we done'.

I decided to move the pin from the back to the front and stuck one in the Voodoo Doll's tits. I kept the girl's name secret but mentioned that I knew her 40 years ago and she deserved a flat boob. Next, when we ran out of chips and salsa, I started waving the Voodoo doll at the waiters. I think they were scared to come over. Most of them were Mexican and therefore Catholic, and they appeared to be a bit hesitant to come to our table. I just decided to Blame it on Bob and I put it away. Bob and I already talked about making a life size one and he advised that they sold them at Fredrick's of Hollywood. I decided to postpone that discussion until later as I have a couple of places picked out where I would love to stick one in the front yard.

In any event, it was an absolute blast that took me completely by surprise. Thanks to all that took part in it. 

 

Are You Ready?

I watched Pearl Harbor last night, the one with Ben Afleck in the leading role. As my surround sound system filled with the sounds of the machine gun fire, I thought back to the time I was flying Nighthawks with Wollman and the 199th. It occurred to me that even though we were ordering the crew members to open fire and "Light Em Up", I never personally pulled the trigger a single time from May to September of 1970. After my baptism of fire and many combat missions after that, I knew I could do it. After a gruesome scene at a fire support base near Phan Thiet, I knew I wanted to do it.

When I transferred to the Air Cav Troop of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment and became the Nighthawk Standardization pilot for them, I eventually ended up being very tired of flying at night so I asked for and was given permission to attend a "Transition Course" that taught me to fly the Hughes 500 C or, as the Army referred to it, the OH 6.

Upon completion of that course and the "Scouting Course" that followed it, the one that taught me how to track the enemy from hovering over their trails, I was certified as a "Loach Pilot" on Hunter Killer teams and became the "Low Bird" that flew over the trees and followed the trails of the VC and NVA while the AH 1 Cobras flew over us providing gunship support when we started to take fire.

During those courses, I had one more to master and that was the gunnery course that taught us to use the mini gun. It had so much torque from the 2,000 to 4,000 round rate of fire, it would literally turn the nose of the helicopter to the left and force you to use the anti torque pedals to adjust your aim. It never was as simple as putting the target in the cross hairs of the sight reticle and pulling the trigger. It definitely was something that you had to master.

In any event, I never really got to use it until we made it to Cambodia. The first time that opportunity presented itself, I was quite shocked to pull the trigger and have nothing happen. The NVA shot up our helicopter and took out the mini gun with a lucky hit. Neither Bustin nor I were wounded but the ship had lots of bullet holes in it from the skids all the way to the top of the dog house.

As good luck would have it, we made it to a South Vietnamese Firebase, located across the road from where we where shot. I didn't even shit the engine down. I fractioned down the controls and got out of the helicopter to see if the fuel cell was hit. I lived in the same hootch as a pilot that was hit in the fuel cell and Bert told us to always try to make it to a relatively safe area to see if any of the bullet holes were leaking fuel.

As I was making that inspection, an RPG round hit very close to me and the shrapnel barely missed my head. Yellow smoke was everywhere and the RPG landed so close to me it put dirt down the back of my flight shirt. It put a nice, long shrapnel wound on the tail boom about 12" above my head. As things turned out, I hit the ground in the supine position, pulled out my 38 caliber pistol and ended up returning fire. My first time pulling the trigger, on an ememy I could see, was with a pistol. Not much John Wayne bidness going on there. It was definitely one of those "holy shit" moments in combat and I didn't have time to do anything else but react.

The moral of this story is simple. It's one thing to watch a movie and visualize yourself shooting at the ememy but it's another thing to have actually done it. It stays with us and we think about it every day of our lives. Politicians and the news media have totally screwed up that scenario. Slimestein says that Veterans are mentally ill, I say we have vivid memories of our time in combat. Pelosi is another matter. In any event, I would chose me over them anytime.

The liberal news media isn't going to go away or fix the inaccuracies surrounding the mental condition of veterans. They had the power to undo a lot of these injustices but never did a thing. A lot of the trashy punks that spit on Vietnam veterans when they returned home are still alive and, as I see it, they haven't changed either. They're just older now but well seasoned in their chicken shit-ness.

When it gets down to it, and it eventually will, we are going to wake up to the news that there's been another beheading or another problem of some sort from these new generation foreigners coming across the border now. I don't understand how the "worship center", where the be-header was radicalized, is still standing.

In any event, when the time comes, many civilians will throw out the ideas they have about veterans and many more will be the first ones to seek out a combat veteran and ask for help. I saw this happen to "Annie" who used to raise hell about all the stories I told about combat. She said I was still fighting the war in my head.

When the gangstas from New Orleans arrived in Shreveport after Katrina drove them out, they came down our street, yelling at the neighbors and terrorizing the little kids. This happened after they did a car jacking at the hospital near Dixie Garden, a murder in Minden and two pharmacy robberies. It was only two doors down from Blame it on Bob's house.

I grabbed my 22 rifle, walked down the drive way to the street and when they came by screaming at Gracie, Debbie's little girl, I screamed F**k You N word" as loud as I could and they hauled it out of sight and didn't return.

Uncle Charlie (rip) saw it and heard it all. He looked at me and yelled: "Timmy, I like your style". Everybody in the neighborhood saw it and they knew that I wasn't afraid. They didn't have an RPG and I could shoot a Ruger 10-22 with a scope on it a lot better than I could a 38 caliber pistol at a time when two NVA guys were shooting an RPG at me. I regret not shooting their tires out but figured it was okay that all it took was the look of a crazy man with a rifle screaming at them as they drove by.

Are you guys ready? I am and I'm experienced enough to know not to take the first shot. I'm not saying that the end is near but I am saying that the beginning has already begun. I feel like I need to go to Texas where my friends with big guns live.

A note from Kat Ballew, another pilot from my days at the 199th Light Infantry Brigade.

This one comes from another pilot that flew with the 199th Light Infantry Brigade. We refer to him as KAT BALLEW.  I did not know this and I'll be you didn't either. Enjoy the read and thanks to Kat. Please have a look at the Wikipedia article at the end. dd AMERICANS HAVE NEVER BEEN GOOD AT HISTORY AND NOW OUR HIGH SCHOOLS AND UNIVERSITIES NO LONGER TEACH ACTUAL HISTORY.  Here is a little history.  Including how the term ‘Leatherneck’ came to be. Most Americans are unaware of the fact that over two hundred years ago, the United States had declared war on Islam, and Thomas Jefferson led the charge! At the height of the eighteenth century, Muslim pirates were the terror of the Mediterranean and a large area of the North Atlantic. They attacked every ship in sight, and held the crews for exorbitant ransoms. Those taken hostage were subjected to barbaric treatment and wrote heart breaking letters home, begging their government and family members to pay whatever their Mohammedan captors demanded. These extortionists of the high seas represented the Islamic nations of Tripoli, Tunis, Morocco, and Algiers – collectively referred to as the Barbary Coast – and presented a dangerous and unprovoked threat to the new American Republic. Before the Revolutionary War, U.S. merchant ships had been under the protection of Great Britain. When the U.S. declared its independence and entered into war, the ships of the United States were protected by France. However, once the war was won, America had to protect its own fleets. Thus, the birth of the U.S. Navy. Beginning in 1784, seventeen years before he would become president, Thomas Jefferson became America’s Minister to France. That same year, the U.S. Congress sought to appease its Muslim adversaries by following in the footsteps of European nations who paid bribes to the Barbary States, rather than engaging them in war. In July of 1785, Algerian pirates captured American ships, and the Day of Algiers demanded an unheard-of ransom of $60,000. It was a plain and simple case of extortion, and Thomas Jefferson was vehemently opposed to any further payments. Instead, he proposed to Congress the formation of a coalition of allied nations who together could force the Islamic states into peace. A disinterested Congress decided to pay the ransom. In 1786, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams met with Tripoli’s ambassador to Great Britain to ask by what right his nation attacked American ships and enslaved American citizens, and why Muslims held so much hostility towards America, a nation with which they had no previous contacts. The two future presidents reported that Ambassador Sidi Haji Abdul Rahman Adja had answered that Islam "was founded on the Laws of their Prophet, that it was written in their Quran, that all nations who should not have acknowledged their authority were sinners, that it was their right and duty to make war upon them wherever they could be found, and to make slaves of all they could take as Prisoners, and that every Musselman (Muslim) who should be slain in Battle was sure to go to Paradise." Despite this stunning admission of premeditated violence on non-Muslim nations, as well as the objections of many notable American leaders, including George Washington, who warned that caving in was both wrong and would only further embolden the enemy, for the following fifteen years, the American government paid the Muslims millions of dollars for the safe passage of American ships or the return of American hostages. The payments in ransom and tribute amounted to over twenty percent of the United States government annual revenues in 1800. Jefferson was disgusted. Shortly after his being sworn in as the third President of the United States in 1801, the Pasha of Tripoli sent him a note demanding the immediate payment of $225,000 plus $25,000 a year for every year forthcoming. That changed everything. Jefferson let the Pasha know, in no uncertain terms, what he could do with his demand. The Pasha responded by cutting down the flagpole at the American consulate and declared war on the United States.  Tunis, Morocco, and Algiers immediately followed suit. Jefferson, until now, had been against America raising a naval force for anything beyond coastal defense, but having watched his nation be cowed by Islamic thuggery for long enough, decided that it was finally time to meet force with force. He dispatched a squadron of frigates to the Mediterranean and taught the Muslim of theBarbary Coast a lesson he hoped they would never forget. Congress authorized Jefferson to empower U.S. ships to seize all vessels and goods of the Pasha of Tripoli and to “cause to be done all other acts of precaution or hostility as the state of war would justifyâ€. When Algiers and Tunis, who were both accustomed to American cowardice and acquiescence, saw the newly independent United States had both the will and the might to strike back, they quickly abandoned their allegiance to Tripoli. The war with Tripoli lasted for four more years, and raged up again in 1815. The bravery of the U.S. Marine Corps in these wars led to the line “to the shores of Tripoli†in the Marine Hymn, They would forever be known as “leathernecks†for the leather collars of their uniforms, designed to prevent their heads from being cut off by the Muslim scimitars when boarding enemy ships. Islam, and what its Barbary followers justified doing in the name of their prophet and their god, disturbed Jefferson quite deeply. America had a tradition of religious tolerance, the fact that Jefferson, himself, had co-authored the Virginia Statute for Religious Freedom, but fundamentalist Islam was like no other religion the world had ever seen. A religion based on supremacism, whose holy book not only condoned but mandated violence against unbelievers was unacceptable to him. His greatest fear was that someday this brand of Islam would return and pose an even greater threat to the United States. This should bother every American. That the Islams have brought about women-only classes and swimming times at taxpayer-funded universities and public pools; that Christians, Jews, and Hindus have been banned from serving on juries where Muslim defendants are being judged, Piggy banks and Porky Pig tissue dispensers have been banned from workplaces because they offend Islamist sensibilities. Ice cream has been discontinued at certain Burger King locations because the picture on the wrapper looks similar to the Arabic script for Allah, public schools are pulling pork from their menus, on and on in the news papers….It’s death by a thousand cuts, or inch-by-inch as some refer to it, and most Americans have no idea that this battle is being waged every day across America. By not fighting back, by allowing groups to obfuscate what is really happening, and not insisting that the Islamists adapt to our own culture, the United States is cutting its own throat with a politically correct knife, and helping to further the Islamists agenda. Sadly, it appears that today’s America would rather be politically correct than victorious. Any doubts, just Google Thomas Jefferson vs the Muslim World or click this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Barbary_War Happy Remembering!

© 2014 Microsoft Terms Privacy & cookies Developers English (United States

WWWD. What Would Wollman Do?

I'm beginning to have entirely too much fun with these comments from Craig and other guys I flew with. You Texans are doing a really good job of passing it along to your buddies so here's another one for you that comes from Craig. Don't you just love his game plan!!!

Karen, you, Wayne and Kevin give me an invite to come over and play when the fecal matter hits the oscillating device. Daniel, you get in touch with Troy and tell him to bring the gang with him and I'll conduct the orchestra. Y'all already know which instruments to bring.

Bring it on you ISIS punks. It's time to play Cowboys and Ragheads. No rules. Yipee..........let's go.            

From:	Craig                                  This sender is in your contact list.
Sent:	Mon 10/20/14 5:10 PM
To:	Tim Butler (tbutler94@hotmail.com)

 http://warfighterfoundation.wordpress.com/2014/08/16/a-subtle-message-to-isis/

West Point Graduates are targets.

This is enough to piss off the Pope.

I believe that we should treat CAIR and the MSA as terrorist organizations and forbid both of them to exist. I believe that I've written about this before but in the event that I didn't do it here, click the link and prepare to be sickened once again.

Have we forgotten the SDS? I damn sure remember that one. I believe it was one of the main influences that caused the 93rd Congress to pass the 1973 War Powers Resolution that was veto'd by Nixon and but over ridden by Congress. I attribute that as the main source of influence that allowed the North Vietnamese to take the South without any fear of retribution from us.

Remember "Four Dead In Ohio" by Neil Young? That's a direct result of these kinds of organizations causing so much trouble.

http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/d/Matthew-Dooley.htm#.VEJvWlJ0xdg

This one comes from Craig.

I like this one a lot. Craig sent it, I only had to cut and paste it here and it gives everybody a logical conclusion to our problems.

Show this message...

 

 

Sent:	Sat 10/18/14 11:18 AM
To:	Tim Butler (tbutler94@hotmail.com)

 Rattlesnake Logic....
After the Boston bombing the news media spent days and weeks
trying to determine why these men did what they did. They
want to know what America did(!) to make these brothers so
angry with us. They want to know why these men were
not arrested before they did something so terrible.
The media is in a tizzy about this new era of
homegrown radicals and about why and how they can live among
us and still hate us.
A friend of mine from Texas explained it all to me: “Here
in west Texas, I have rattlesnakes on my place, living among
us. I have killed a rattlesnake on the front porch.
I have killed a rattlesnake on the back porch. I
have killed rattlesnakes in the barn, in the shop and on the
driveway. In fact, I kill every rattlesnake I
encounter.
I kill rattlesnakes because I know a rattlesnake will bite
me and inject me with poison. I don’t stop to wonder
WHY a rattlesnake will bite me; I know it WILL bite me
because it's a rattlesnake and that's what
rattlesnakes do. I don’t try to reason with a
rattlesnake or have a "meaningful dialogue" with
it…I just kill it. I don’t try to get to know the
rattlesnake better so I can find a way to live with the
rattlesnakes and convince them not to bite me. I just
kill them. I don’t quiz a rattlesnake to see if I can find
out where the other snakes are, because (a) it won’t tell
me and (b) I already know they live on my place. So, I
just kill the rattlesnake and move on to the next one.
I don’t look for ways I might be able to change the
rattlesnake to a non-poisonous rat snake...I just
kill it. Oh, and on occasion, I accidentally kill a
rat snake because I thought it was a rattlesnake at the
time. Also, I know for every rattlesnake I kill, two
more are lurking out there in the brush. In my
lifetime I will never be able to rid my place of
rattlesnakes.
Do I fear them? Not really. Do I
respect what they can do to me and my family?
Yes!! And because of that respect, I give them the
fair justice they deserve....I kill them...
As a country,
we should start giving more thought to the fact that these
jihadists' are telling the world their goal is to kill
Americans and destroy our way of life. They have just
posted two graphic videos on the internet showing them
beheading Americans. They are serious. They are
exactly like rattlesnakes. It is high time for us to
start acting accordingly!
I love this country.
It's the damn government I'm afraid
of!
Look who's new in the White
House!
Arif Alikhan
Assistant Secretary for Policy
Development for the U.S. Department of Homeland
Security
Mohammed Elibiary
Homeland Security Adviser
Rashad Hussain
Special Envoy to the Organization of the Islamic
Conference(OIC)
Salam al-Marayati
Obama Adviser and founder of the Muslim Public Affairs
Council
and is its current executive
director
Imam Mohamed Magid-
Obama's Sharia Czar from the Islamic Society of North
America
Eboo Patel-
Advisory Council on Faith-Based Neighborhood
Partnerships
This is flat-out scary!
The foxes are
now officially living in the hen house...
Now ask me why I am very
concerned!
Do you feel OK with this?
How can this
happen, and when will we wake
up?
We are quiet while our Country is being drastically
changed!

© 2014 Microsoft Terms

Something isn't right and I can't put a finger on it. Gut feelings.

Over the past week, I've been feeling a little out of sync. Can't put my finger on it but, over my lifetime, I've experienced it before and the many times that has happened, something bad always came from it. With these new feelings, I've found myself thinking about everything from my child hood all the way to current times.

Whether it was the concerns a 7th grader has about running into bullies in boarding school or reading an article today from Americannews.com, there always seems to be a warning of some sort that the shit is about to hit the fan. The article I'm referring to was titled "Muslims demand that the Army allow turbans and beards in the military".

When I read it, I immediately had a flashback to the mid 1980s from reading 13 volumes of Barry Sadler's "Casca". He wrote about the end of the Roman Empire coming from the influences of foreigners serving in the Roman Legions. I accept that Sadler's books were fiction but the years I studied the Roman Empire in boarding schools, mentioned the same thing, and that was a long time before Sadler came along. Foreigners in their military and that part of the story, was true.

I remembered flying Scouts over the jungle in South Vietnam near Phu Loi and, after a couple of days of some pretty serious fighting, I remembered smelling that unmistakable odor from the dead that were left behind. I knew that smell and that there were always bad guys that were still alive in the area. That was not a good thing to be flying around at a very low altitude.

I couldn't see them but I smelled them just the same and I remember telling my gunner Loren Bustin, :"Watch close, I can smell them". Within minutes I found a footprint on a trail that had muddy water in it, an indication that someone had recently passed through the area. Foot prints with clear water in it meant that they were long gone. Not long after that, some of the gunners from the Scouts wanted to serve as my gunner because the rumor spread that "Mr. Butler can smell the dinks".

In the late 90s, my beloved common law nephew, Joey Scarpinatto, gave me a nick name. I became "Mr. Risk Averse" because I would refuse to take part in a number of things he wanted to do. I did that because of experience and I would laugh at him and write it off as a lack of experience on his part, not mine. During times like that I told him that "momma said all the intelligence in the world wasn't in the library, it was in the nursing homes".

That attempt was to use actual experiences in life as an example to show that experience was worth a hell of a lot more than an idea that might sound like fun. I remember preaching that: One has to rely on personal experience when ever possible. It didn't work and I'm still Mr. Risk Averse.

In any event, I have enjoyed the benefits of experience throughout my life but most of it has been relative to business or combative situations. My last employer told me that I had the best strategic mind in the business. I remember saying that the visions came from being around a large number of ruthless, crooked business people  along the way. The end result was the same. In most cases, I could smell a rat before it ever jumped ship. I feel like that's where I am today. These uncertainties are driving me nuts. That's when I began to wonder about you guys and decided to write this gut feeling post.

It seems to me that we, as Americans, wait too late before we make a move. I always think about Pearl Harbor as evidence of that. I always thought that we should have had PBYs flying all over the Pacific west of Hawaii and that an entire fleet of submarines should have made it easy to verify the suspicions that that Japs were coming. We already knew the Japs were killing civilians in Nanking and that they were going all out to gain oil and other resources all over Asia.

When we asked them to stop using babies for bayonet practise, they walked out of "The League of Nations". I've already written about that and firmly believe that Woodrow Wilson should have named it the "League of Civilized Nations" and from that, we never should have invited the Japs or the Germans to take part. That would have effectively put the entire world on notice that these uncivilized barbarians might be back again and that the entire world of civilized nations would kill them all if they tried.

Now comes the barbaric ISIS people and Ebola. If I was running the show, the border would have been closed the day after 911. With regard to Ebola, there would have been a shut down of all flights originating from anywhere in Africa. In any event, I wouldn't be shipping Ebola infected people all over the USA because that only increases the danger. It's one thing to have a shit load of guns and ammo but if you leave the doors open, what else could you expect?

In conclusion, let me say that it's past time to start talking to your neighbors. Who are those FEMA camps designed for? Who is supposed to fill those body bags? That seems to be a couple of really good questions to ask. Americans? Makes me wonder.

Santa Ain't The Only One Coming To Town So Let's All Get On The Same Page.

I want to end the debate that never seems to solve the problems regarding Good Muslims and Bad Muslims. To get things started, I'll pass along a note that came to me from a highly educated friend.

"A radicalized Muslim wants to kill you. A moderate Muslim wants a radicalized Muslim to kill you".

That should be enough to put all of us on the same page and end the debate about good muslims and bad muslims. End of lesson but beginning of new preparations.

Santa Claus ain't the only one coming to town but he's a pretty good example to use when you think about serious preparations for a visitor. Parents even sing songs to their children to prepare them for his arrival: "He's knows when you've been bad or good so be good for goodness sake".

We've been told that since the days of our infancy so maybe we can use that as a model for future behavior and begin our preparations from there. Maybe a song would do. How about this one! Sing it to the tune of Santa Clause is comin' to town.



You better watch out, you better be sly, you better lock and load, I'm tellin' you why,
Ragheads are comin' to town.
You know they hate the Catholics, they hate the Baptists too but when it comes down to it
They're here to kill you.
Buy yourself a real good knife, Jim Bowie is one of the best, sharpen that baby up real nice and shove it in their chest.
You can sneak up behind them, that's my favorite way, their sorry ass will hit the floor
Before they get a chance to say:
Please don't pull down my pants and cut off my jewels, I'll need it for all the virgins and I don't want to show up like a fool.
****************************************************************************
Now, if that doesn't make sense, all you have to do is remember that they're putting AK 47s in the hands of their kids and telling them to shoot the infidels. As our response to that, I think fighting fire with fire is a good response and the Santa Claus song is therefore, nothing more than a response to their child raising habits.
 
If you don't like my song, think about this.

Trick or Treat is another example but you don't get to sing it. You better have some goodies for the kids that come by, ring the door bell and holler "Trick or Treat". We get ready for all kinds of celebrations over the course of a year and we've been doing that ever since we began to build this Country. Times have changed and we need to change to meet the needs of today.

We hide Easter eggs for the kids, we have the Easter bunny, we have Turkey for Thanksgiving and pop lots of fire crackers on July 4th. If we go to those lengths to prepare for special days, why shouldn't we all get on the same page for other visitors?

All of the examples above are pretty good ones from my childhood days but today is a bit different. The main difference can be found in the confusion in trying to prepare for those who are coming but don't seem to fit the mold of being good. Since we already know about the flag burners and the riot crowds in St. Louis and Furguson, Missouri, let's move on over to those who aren't home grown dummies and have been burning the flag since the 50s.

When I think about the lessons Americans learned during times war and killing, I always go back to my days flying helicopters in Vietnam and Cambodia. We weren't always given advance notice for some of the attacks but we surely were equipped and ready to go. Nobody rang a bell or told us to get ready by a particular hour and day like Thanksgiving because we didn't know exactly when the first rocket or mortar would hit. In view of that, we pretty much had to be ready 24/7. With that in mind, I'm telling you now that you must keep your powder dry and have lots of ammo and food set aside.

As an example, let's go back to the current siege in Iraq and relate that to something that most people remember from personal experience or history. Tet of 68 and the Battle of Hue South Vietnam is a good example. The players are pretty much the same as ISIS and the results are too. Hue suffered a lot of casualties just like the towns and villages in Iraq have. In Hue, some reports say that there were 5,000 civilians killed with many of them being executed. Sound familiar?

If you take a look at the Twin Towers, you'll see a death count that is somewhat similar even though the weapons were different. Despite that, you will almost certainly agree that we were well equipped for the attack but we didn't hear a bell ring or see a notice given that it would occur at a specific day and time.

Things have changed now and we've been told it's coming and we've even seen some evidence that it's already here. Whether it's 911, Ft. Hood or the most recent beheading in Oklahoma, it's already here. We just haven't experienced thousands of them in the streets or across the Nation but that's certainly a part of their plan.

Just like the time when "The Red Coats Are Coming" was the call of the day, "The Muslims Are Coming" is today's call. You may not have adopted that as your daily thought but you can bet that there will be a stiff penalty to pay if you don't. I know that's a pretty difficult thing to do for civilians who have never fought in a war and I also know that those who didn't do that, in past times, paid a heavy price for it, often with their lives.

I don't plan to be one of those. I'm ready, willing and able to do my part even if it isn't flying a gunship with lots of machine guns on it or a Loach with a single minigun and a door gunner with an M 60.

As a last note for the ladies who don't pack heat, let me suggest something more user friendly. Your daily driver makes a great "Eliminator". You can take them out in the cross walk, the parking lot, the side walk or any where you see them on foot.

Now, go back and sing that song again. It's a snappy little tune and should be easy to sing. Y'all have a nice day. Karen, just get Kevin or Wayne to put a different bumper on your vehicle, one that's better suited to the task at hand. Eddie, don't let Ginny use the Miata. It's too little. Take her to the shooting range or buy her an F 350.

My answer to Ragheads "Sectarius Mutinium"

Well, it finally happened. I heard one of those raghead goat lovers holler Allah Akbar one time too many. That's when it hit me. I decided to fight fire with fire and began the search for our own phrase to say to them. I went to Google and typed in "English to Latin Dictionary" and began typing in a number of words.

After a long list of really nasty stuff, I finally selected "Sectarius Mutinium" because it sounded kinda snappy to me and I figured it would look good on a bumper sticker. That wasn't the only reason I chose it. I figured doing it in Latin would piss em off more than doing it in English. I guess it was a Catholic thing more than anything else, because of the Crusades, but in the end, I figured it was the Christian thing to do. Sectarius means "cut guilded" and Mutinium means "penis".

There are many reasons for this but primarily, I used it as a response to their claims that they need to sever the heads of non believers. I don't have a clue why they would want to do that but I figured if we told them we were gonna cut their prods off, they might have second thoughts about doing anything to us. If you think about it logically, how could anybody think that 52 virgins would do them any good if we did the Sectarius maneuver and fed their Mutiniums to the hogs?

I wanted to find a really definitive statement and translate it into Latin but "Hey goat lover, we're gonna cut off your mutiniums" ended up being too long for the bumper sticker.

In the end, as I thought about selling this idea to the Christian population in the good ole USA, I went back in time and did a little study. I began with the Protestants and figured all of that started over a woman so I was sure they would sign on to the bumper sticker program.

The Baptists seemed to be more involved in fighting the devil and since I have so many Baptist kin folk, I figured they would sign on, too. I thought about the Latin phrase for "You've pissed off the McInnis Clan and we're gonna cut your nuts off" but that was too long.

After I went through the Mormans, the Episcopalians and everybody else, it occurred to me that the bumper sticker might be just the thing to bring harmony among the Christians and stop the stuff that divides us all. See there! We all have a common goal and, as Christians, we now have an answer that fits into previous statements like "Go ye into the land and kill every man, woman, child and beast of burden". If the Israelites had done that when they were told to, we probably wouldn't be dealing with the goat lovers now.

I began to think that this was the result of a spiritual vision of some sort because I was really moved when I went to church this week end. I recalled my many years in boarding school and the influences from the Jesuits, the Franciscans and the Benedictines. I was wondering when all those influences were going to kick into high gear, and now I know. Can you imagine what would happen if the entire Christian world would get those bumper stickers?

In any event, there now appears to be more opportunities from being a Christian other than praying like crazy that you're gonna survive the war, divorce, cancer and a lot of other things that we pray to God to help us with. By the year 2020, only six years from now, the world population of Christians is projected to be 2.1 billion. I think that's more than twice as many than the goat lovers.

I'm not saying that the Pope or Billy Graham would support this kind of thought but I do believe that the Christians I know, especially the ones in Louisiana, would sign on in a heartbeat. I say that because some of them already suggested feeding them to the alligators down here.

I tell you what I'm going to do. I'll get in touch with Phil Latier and have his wife make a bumper sticker for me. If any of you want one, let me know and I'll have her make a bunch of them and I'll see to it that y'all get one. CHRISTIANS UNITE. Goat Lovers, don't even go there.

On Guard: Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, One twenty one point five or two forty three point nothing.

At some point in your life, you've almost certainly seen a movie where a pilot gets in trouble and has to make the radio call that starts with "Mayday, Mayday, Mayday".

I was very fortunate and never had to make that call. In my case, I didn't have time. I was already down to roughly 50' when the SHTF and there really wasn't any time or need for me to do that. I had a Cobra gunship watching us go down and the Cobra had a Huey watching over both of us. That happened on the south side of the CHUP rubber plantation in Cambodia, an area where the fat cats said: "we weren't there".

Right now, with the Stuff Hitting The Fan every day, we don't have people watching over us like we did in Vietnam and Cambodia. We also don't have a UHF or a VHF radio to use where immediate responses from fighters, bombers, gunships, Hueys and artillery support can come to our rescue. Despite that, it's easier to use a cell phone than dialing 121.5 or 243.0 into either of the radios and making the call for help.

Since we don't have the ability to call the gunships in, I began to wonder about the general population and their awareness of today's support systems. I always seem to wander back to the days of our fight for Independence when the Brits were the bad guys and we were on our on. No Army, no formally organized government and, in an organizational sense, all we had was us.

With the Boneheads in charge of everything now, I began to see the more positive side of depending on ourselves, just like the Patriots did in the time of George Washington. You may wonder why I feel so confident in that as opposed to sitting on our duffs and expecting the gubmint to handle it. This morning, I received an email from an engineer buddy of mine and became convinced that there's no one better to depend on than us.

He listed the number of licensed hunters in Michigan as somewhere around 600,000. He said that was larger than most militaries of the world. He added the number of gun holders in Pennsylvania and other States and said that those numbers added up to a total that's larger than ANY military force in the world. It brought back memories of Yamamoto during the second world war when he cautioned Japan not to attempt an invasion of the United States because "behind every blade of grass, there's a gun".

According to Google, the Continental United States had 131 million people in it when December 7th came along and the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Today, google says that we reached 317 million in January of 2014. I like those numbers because it means that there are billions of rounds of ammo already in the hands of our Patriots.

In any event, when you compare the Twin Towers with Pearl Harbor and you add to that, the fact that "Mr. Already Dead Bin Laden", formally declared war on us, it seems to me that we haven't put together the right phrases to allow us the proper environment to protect ourselves. I say that because of stupid stuff like "Workplace violence". I would like to correct that right now.

Workplace violence is a condition where one employee gets pissed at another employee and they fight. When they kill somebody, that's workplace murder. When they yell some Islamic phrase and kill people, that's terrorism, Islamic radicalism, Muslim warfare or ragheads begging to die. Any way I look at it, I see it as another act of war, one that deserves some of that good ole fashioned response called "Vengeance".

You don't have to be a bible scholar to know that ole saying: "Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord". If you are a red blooded American boy, you already know about that "One Nation Under God" thing and should automatically know that WE are instruments of the Lord. If you don't buy into that, how about another short history lesson?

Hitler invaded Russia and used 4 million troops to do it. If you use 20,000 men as the number of troops in one Army Division, that's 200 Divisions and Hitler's invading Army was described by Google as the largest invasion of it's kind in history.

Since there is a data base for Muslim immigrants that show 5,000,000 here, that's 250 Divisions. Not having a data base for illegals, some say that there are as many as 8,000, 000 million Muslims here. That's 400 Divisions. When you do that math, there are already twice as many here as Hitler used to invade Russia. Now, let's do a little Timmy Math.

If we start with 317 million as our population and remove all of the stats for Muslims, that means that we have over 300,000,000 million people here who are NOT rag heads. That means WE have roughly 15,000 Divisions to fight off the 400 Divisions of rag heads. In Timmy World, that means that there will eventually be an ass kicking of monumental proportions. They even have a song that covers that kind of situation: "Don't worry, be happy".

Before you get paranoid and think that the gubmint won't put up with the Patriots killing the rag heads, remember this: Rag heads didn't sign up for the Geneva Convention and Timmy's world doesn't even allow for a Geneva Convention.  No Convention, no problem.

Since the Boneheads won't simply deport them all, Timmy World says send them an invitation to "Get out of Dodge". See there, no Muslims, no Muslim trouble. I just wanted to extend that invitation so we could at least prove that we used, logic, common sense and a peaceful way to solve the problem. We all know that won't work but you have to remember that we at least need to try.

There will be more on this later but the races are on today and everybody needs to watch a little football and other sports before we get back to the main game of Raghead Ball. Y'all be patient.

What's it going to take to stop this immigration garbage AND remove the enemies within our borders?

One of the things that bothers me about information that comes across the net has to do with who sends it and how reliable it is. It's so bad, we now have so many places to go where we can check out the validity of posts or claims, it seems that an entire industry has been built to chase all the lies and deceit.

A few days prior to September 11th, I became very focused on "Attention to Detail". Chief Warrant Officer Bernard T. Diable still lives inside my head even though it's been 45 years since he began teaching that course at Ft. Wolters, Texas. I can't seem to help that and after all this time, I don't think it needs help, it needs sharing.

Until the moment we experienced the attack on the World Trade Center, I never paid much attention to the Caliphate crew. After that day, I spent more time hating than I did debating the history of their beliefs.

As it relates to thoughts about that and our future, it took some time but I eventually returned to Diable's Attention to Detail course for combat. I hope that none of you are in denial about the combat side of that statement but if you are, all you have to do is spend a little bit of energy and effort searching the net about their conduct and what they've been up to since day 1. It's their thing, it's what they do and it will always be what they do. Accept it.

As Leland would say, you don't have to agree with it, like it, aid and abet it, condone it or support it. One thing you better do is "accept it". It's real and despite all the lies and propaganda that comes with it, all you have to do is focus on the common denominator and you will see that killin' YOUR ass is the main goal.

Now that we've started to see beheadings here, I have come up with the Timmy Solution Part I. Deport the entire bunch. Every single, solitary one of them has to leave and never come back. It's actually pretty simple. If you are a rag head, your ass is history here.

For those of you who still hold on to that insane notion that not all rag heads are bad, please feel free to either point out the good ones OR accept the following:

Osama Bin Laden was a baby at one time. How much better off would the entire world be if someone had killed him before day 2 of his life? Answer that one. Now, if you still don't agree, try this on for size.

If there wasn't a single, solitary rag head in the Country and every one of them had been deported, how much rag head trouble would come from the work place or any other place in the Country. The answer is "none" because there wouldn't be any of them here. Pretty simple, don't you think. For you left wing idiots that think there are some good ones out there, read their plan book.

The Timmy Solution Part II has to do with voting. If you are not from men and women who lived in this Country after the Civil War or World War I, you don't get to vote. Dad was born in 1906 and mom was born the year the Titanic sunk. Do the math, do the study. Don't you think that's fair? If you disagree, adjust the voting eligibility situation to one that can only come with 150 years of being an American Family. Seems to me that those 150 year Americans should have a stronger say so than those that have been here 150 days.

If we have another beheading, MAYBE THEN you will get the idea that this multiculturalism stuff ain't gonna work and neither will a border that is INTENTIONALLY left open. I'll close with a quote during the days when the west was being settled and cattle rustling was going unpunished. The guy I was listening to said: "Unenforced laws guarantee Lawlessness and Anarchy. I liked that part.

Carry a gun and start carrying a knife. You never know when the opportunity for a vengeance beheading might present itself. The people in Texas already know about this rule. For the rest of you that don't, y'all have a nice day.

If it ain't one thing, it's another. Memorial stolen.

I received an email from Doug, a friend of mine that I went to flight school with. He told me that they had a memorial for Jane Fonda, set up at Ft. Meade, but it appears to be missing. It was a row of white porcelain with flush handles on it and he was wondering where it ended up.

I'm not sure if there is a connection here but it just so happens that I have one of those at my house. As a coincidence, I've seen the same thing at Blame it on Bob's house as well as Wayne and Danita's. I'm positive that neither of those families were ever stationed at Ft. Meade but I had to ask myself "How in the world did all of us end up with a Jane Fonda Memorial at our houses?"

Mine does not have the little picture of her in the bottom of it, the kind of picture that makes a good target for the men folk that use it. I'm positive that Blame it on Bob's doesn't have a picture in it either but I'm not sure about Wayne and Danita. Rumor has it that there's is a Barack Memorial at Wayne's place but I'm not sure. Y'all know how Wayne is so I'm not going to ask him about it and I'm scared to ask Bob.

In any event, if any of y'all see one of these memorials, please let me know so I can tell Doug as he's real curious if any of us has them. I'm not trying to Blame it on Bob but somehow, some way, I think he might have had something to do with it. Y'all have a nice day.

Delayed by preparations for 9/11

I had to take a break from posting because I was behind schedule for the 9/11 preparations. I don't like to view myself as a bit slower than I used to be and would prefer to describe that condition as paying more attention to detail. Everybody knows that takes time. You have to ask yourself a few questions when pondering these things.

"How much time did I spend preparing the gonad extraction and penile inverting device"?

See there! I bet some of you didn't even have yours sharpened before midnight of the 10th!  I have other duties here besides being retired, writing about my experiences dealing with illegals and maintaining my presence in various public places to stay informed, connected and intellectually engaged.

I took great risks preparing for 9/11 this week as I began to sneak up behind a rag head at the counter and mimicked the skillful maneuver illustrating the proper way to slit a throat from behind. That, in and of itself isn't such a big deal but doing that in a stealthy manner that prevents all of the patrons in the café from screaming out loud, is a whole nuther thing.

I thought I'd pulled it off until the morning of the 11th when I returned to the café to the sounds of laughter coming from the wait staff. One girl asked: "Are you really that fast"? I told her that I had an invisible knife and that I was only doing it for purposes of demonstration. It was clear to me that she'd not been through The Bernard T. Diable course of Attention to Detail.

In any event and for whatever it's worth, I've done some more study lately and discovered that September 11th has a special meaning for the rag heads. Two times in history, one near Vienna and another on Malta, September 11th marks the day of a disaster of monumental proportions for the donkey lovers. There was more ass kickin' and name takin' of the rag heads on those two occasions and they've apparently been pissed off about that ever since then. Talk about holdin' a grudge! Don't that beat all. It's been centuries since all that happened.

I just wanted to explain the last few days of vacation so you would understand that only those items of the greatest concern could take me away from the lessons here. My apologies to Karen, Troy, MFH, Dupe (who witnessed the knife cutting scene in the café), Eddie, Craig, The Woodruff' family and Blame it on Bob who anxiously awaits these epistles. I appreciate your patience. Lessons resume shortly. Thanks.

The Best Combat Mission I Ever Flew.

The last week of November 1970, was a tough one for the 11th Cav. Those areas that were close to Xuan Loc, the one where we shot up the log truck when I was with the 199th, were becoming more dangerous because of the continued immigration of the NVA. With the 199th gone, the call to respond to all the activity there was given to the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, and the Air Cav Troop was assigned the mission to stop it. Despite the fact that I had only been with the Air Cav for ten weeks, I was assigned the left hand seat and was to fly with John Finnerty, the most soft spoken of all the pilots from the Blues.

Even though I had already been serving as the Standardization pilot for Nighthawk missions for the 11th Cav, I never had to take a check ride for the position of Aircraft Commander. The Aircraft Commander always flew from the left seat and the copilot flew from the right seat. Despite that, I felt very comfortable about the mission because we were going to stage from Xuan Loc which was like a home coming for me and the landing zone was located in the same opening where we'd blown up the log truck.

We loaded the Huey with as many ARPs as we could and took off for Xuan Loc for a pre-insertion briefing. It actually was quite nice to be hanging out in an area that I considered to be relatively safe and to do so with a group of guys that I had become very comfortable flying with.

If you can visualize a dozen Hueys parked on the ramp next to 4 Cobras and 4 Loaches, you might imagine how large the force was. I don't know how many ARPs were there but I would have to guess that there was somewhere between 60 and 72 of them because we would carry five or six of them at a time. Those boys were carrying lots of ammo, M 60 machine guns, M 79 grenade launchers and the usual M 16s. It was hot and we were heavy.

When the Cobras and Loaches were given the order to take off, we knew it wouldn't be long before we were going in. We had already gone over the maps a hundred times and before the Cobras were out of sight, the ARPs began to gather around each Huey. We were ready and when the order to "Pull Pitch" was given, we loaded the Hueys and began our start up procedures.

It only took a few minutes to get into our formation and make our way to the landing zone where we were told to establish a holding pattern while the Cobras worked over the site where we would make our insertion of the troops. Radio checks were made to insure that each aircraft could communicate with the men on the ground and when that was done, we began our tactical approach to the landing zone.

Jim "Jelly" Gelsomin was flying lead that day and I was Chalk 2. Jelly was the top gun in the Slick Platoon and was respected by everyone. He was one of the best Huey pilots any of us had ever flown with. I can close my eyes and, just as we were about to touch down, I can still see my main rotor blades overlapping his tail rotor. It was the most precise formation maneuver I'd ever experienced at that time.

The Cobras and Loaches had cleared the way for the landing and I don't recall seeing a single tracer coming our way when we made our approach. We dropped the Arps at the exact location we needed to hit, and departed the LZ to head back to Xuan Loc where we waited and waited for the call to pick them up. It seemed like a long time but I doubt if it was much more than an hour before we received the call informing us that they were in heavy contact, that some of them had been hit and we needed to get them out of there and let the Air Force finish them off.

I received a radio call on my UHF radio, something that had never happened before. They asked if my ground radio was inop because I had failed to acknowledge a radio to call to insure that it worked. I made the call and when I reported that the radio wasn't working, they told me to hold west of the Pick Up Zone until needed.

Finnerty and I entered a holding pattern just west of the PZ and watched the extraction as all of the Hueys, except us, picked up a load of Arps and exited the PZ. That's when TSHTF. As the last Huey was just about to leave the PZ and we began to make the course correction to join their formation, my UHF received an incoming call informing me that 4 of the Arps were left in the PZ and we would have to go in and pick them up.

If there ever was an "Oh shit" moment, that was it. The Arps had already killed a bunch of them and I knew that they were chasing our guys as they made their way to the PZ. I knew they were hoping to kill some of our guys and take out the Hueys as they landed to extract the Arps.They told us that the 4 men were hiding behind a fallen log that was laying aside the main road we used to land on. I knew it was one of the logs that came from the explosion of the log truck we'd blown up a few months earlier.

We dropped down to tree top level so the NVA couldn't get a shot at us, screamed toward the road, and the moment we cleared the trees, we began looking for the log where the 4 men were reported to be hiding. We were a bit too hot coming into the PZ so we executed a "quick stop" maneuver where the nose is very high, the tail is very low and zero pitch is in the blades. We landed right next to the log and within an instant, the 4 Arps were on board and we were pulling pitch to get out of there before the NVA could shoot us down.

We hit the top of a defoliated tree with the chin bubble but managed to escape without too much difficulty or damage except for one of the Arps whose pants were caught by some limbs as we were clearing the trees. It nearly tore them off his body and almost allowed him to establish himself as the first guy in the 11th Cav, to get out of a fight.....naked. I'll try to cut and paste that story in Ed's own words but I'll have to do that later. Now, back to the fight.

At that point, we returned to Dian and made our landing in the revetment. As I was letting the turbine do it's 2 minute cool down, I looked out of the cockpit window and saw all 4 of the Arps waiting for us to shut down and exit the Huey. One was Sgt. Kerry Earl, the others were Ed Usrey, Sgt. Dee and one other Arp who's name I can not remember.

When I got out, Sgt. Kerry Earl came over to me, hugged my neck, patted me on the back and kissed me on the cheek. I was shocked. He told me that we had saved their lives and that the place was crawling with NVA. He told me: "If anybody ever screws with you, let me know and I will take care of it". He had the wide eyes of a man who had been in a tough fight and I knew what he meant. I didn't know that I wouldn't have to ask for any help but that it would eventually be needed and he would eventually come to my rescue. That's another story that you will hear but let me close this one with a report from Ed Usrey that came many years later.

Thanks to computers, Ed contacted me to let me know that every Thanksgiving Day he began his blessing with "Thank You for sending Mr. Butler to take us out of that horrible fight. Without him, I would not have my wife, my children or my Grand Children. Thank You for giving me my family".

The moment I had that conversation with Ed, I knew that it had been the best mission I had ever flown.  I made sure to let him know that John Finnerty was just as important to that mission as I was and eventually, through a mutual friend, Curt Lambert, Ed met face to face with John Finnerty during a reunion in California and had an opportunity to thank him. Thanks for letting me unload this story.  




 

Ed Wolfe's notes from his Nighthawk mission with Wolman on May 21, 1970, six days into my tour.

 

The story below is from my first room mate in Vietnam, CW4 retired Ed Wolfe, with the permission of Craig Wolman. Thanks to both of you.

 

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On the evening of 21 May 1970, Craig and I were given a mission to check out a grid area that was SSE of FSB Mace and about 10km north of Ham Tan.  We flew out to that area after dark and started a VR with the Star Light Scope operator checking out the area. 

 

Shortly after we started, the Star Light Scope operator found a target which eventually was found to be 4 trucks and about 18 individuals on top of a small hill top in the process of transferring weapons and materials.  The Star Light Operator transferred the target location to the Xenon searchlight operator and then Craig gave the order to open fire with the mini-gun.  Eventually the 50-cal gunner on the left side of the Huey got into the action to open fire.  I had been about one week in country and this was the first nighttime and Night Hawk mission for me.  The instrument panel of the Huey did a blurry dance as the mini-gun and the 50 shot up the area.  A radio report back to Mace brought a AC-119 Spooky gunship and a flight of TAC Air fighters to the station we were working.  Both Spooky and the F-4’s lit up the area. 

 

After we had concluded that no fire was being returned, we headed back to Mace to attempt to get some rest.  After refueling, we headed to the aviation shelter and laid down.  About 0100, the battalion commander from that area challenged our report of the contact and ordered us to return to the area of the contact for a confirmation.  Ground troops found 4 burnt up trucks and 18 dead individuals.  I believe that we got credit for a truck or two and 4 of the dead, whereas the USAF got credit for the balance.

"Baby Sitting Butler And The End Of Nighthawk Missions"

Since I started this particular Nighthawk series, I've been receiving some comments from a number of guys that flew Night Hawk missions with me during my time with the 199th and the 11th Cav. On the 199th side of things, Wolman checked in and commented on his memories of the time he flew with Fireball Aviation and, on the Cav side, Curt Lambert talked about the adrenaline rush that came with making contact with the bad guys and feeling the concussion from the 50 caliber when the shooting started. Prior to that time, Curt had spent almost all of his time as a Huey pilot delivering troops to and from the various Landing Zones in our Area of Operations. I think those were his first missions flying guns.

Everybody that flew in the Night Hawk program has their own memories and some of them have already lasted a lifetime. One of mine came from thinking that I was doing a great job. The way I was seeing it, I was messing up the resupply base that the VC had at the Leper Colony as well as screwing with the NVA near the spot where Jernigan and Stearns were lost and therefore, marking enemy locations to be passed along to the ground troops. Somebody else apparently saw it as a situation that needed a bit of supervision. Can you imagine that!

Not long after the  "American you die tonight" mission, somebody decided that I needed baby sitting. A decision was made to add "chase ships" to the mission and, much to my surprise, it turned out to be Cobra gunships, two of them. Initially, I didn't like the idea as it would result in making a lot more noise and alerting the enemy that there were a bunch of helicopters messing around in "their" area and therefore, it would put them on guard.

I never recalled a single mission where Wolman and I had another Huey go with us. Never! In any event, we took off one night to run a Nighthawk mission west of the Leper Colony. Two Cobras went with us. It went sour, right off the bat. I only flew a Cobra one time and that was during the day time. Thinking back, I never saw a Cobra fly a night time mission until that night. I don't know if they considered it an exercise or not but it seemed that way when they started practicing rocket runs. I remember thinking: "What in the hell is that all about"?

I concluded that they had little to no night time experience and wanted to get a feel for what it was like to roll over and make a simulated dive toward an imaginary target at night. There was a lot of radio chatter between the Cobras and I knew that this mission wasn't even going to get started much less end up as a success.

Over the course of two more missions, there were complaints made by the pilots during the mission and the entire Nighthawk program appeared to be on the chopping block. It seems that there was a lot of hell raising going on about it and the next thing I knew, there were no more Nighthawk missions scheduled. I think that was sometime around the beginning of November 1970.

I didn't know it at the time but that put my back in the Huey in a position that only allowed daytime missions that were typically hauling ARPs to and from LZs where they would go on patrols or chase the bad guys that had been reported in a particular area.

I resolved myself to the realities of no more night flying and in a sense, I was glad to see what the rest of Vietnam looked like in the daylight. Little did I know that it was going to lead to the best combat mission I flew during the entire war. That's another story so I will leave you with this and sign off for now. I'll get on with the details of my last flight with the Slick platoon later.

"American, You Die Tonight", Ninh, the NVA Captain and Sexual Warfare.

I think that my idea of a successful raid was completely different than the Army's idea of a successful raid. Despite the hell raising about the tear gas drop, I got away with it and began planning another Night Hawk mission further to the east near Xuan Loc.

I had no idea that we were going to experience some of that Psychological Warfare bidness but as soon as I began my northward turn to begin hunting for the enemy near Xuan Loc where Wolman and I saw the Jernigan and Stearns shoot down, the radio crackled in my head set and I heard an Asian voice saying: "American, you die tonight".

Nothing ever came from that mission and we never fired a shot. After we returned to Dian, I hit the bed and waited till morning when Sheehan would be awake and on duty. When it came, I approached him with the story above and he was shocked that the VC or NVA was actually on the radio long enough to say that but not long enough for me to get any kind of a track on him.

When I told the guys about it, someone told me that I needed to go see "Budda", an NVA Captain that had been captured after a bombing run by a B 52. He was staying in the compound next door and was serving as an interpreter for the Republic of Korea troops that were billeted there. We referred to them as ROKs and they were some of the toughest troops I'd ever seen.

Ninh had been educated in the USA and spoke perfect English. When I told him what had happened, I asked him to teach me some Vietnamese that I could use as a response in case it happened again. Budda laughed out loud and told me to repeat the phrase: "Ahnie Em My My, Em Dap Lahm, Sook Whahm Dee Do". I asked him what it meant and he told me that once I could say it properly, he would let me know. That's when I began to practice. I must have said it a hundred times and when I finished he told me that he would let me know later.

Later that night, I took off and headed back to the area with the hopes that the bad boys would still be listening for the whop whop whop of the Huey rotor blades. As soon as I entered our search area, the radio crackled again with "American, you die tonight". I didn't waste a second of time and immediately responded with "Ahnie Em My My, Em Dap Lahm, Sook whahm Dee Do". Without any hesitation at all, even though they couldn't see me, the green tracers started coming up from the jungle below. With that, I told the gunners to "light em up".

We put some rounds in the general area that the tracers were coming from, made a couple of circuits over the target area but nothing else happened that night. I was really anxious to find out what my response meant because it had clearly pissed off the bad boys on the ground. We flew back to base and called it a night.

The next morning, after a good night's sleep, I went to the fence that separated the ROK compound from ours and asked for Ninh. They retrieved him and I could tell by the look on his face that he was ready to translate his message to the NVA. When I asked him to translate, he began laughing out loud and asked ME to tell HIM what had happened. As I explained their reaction and the green tracers, his face lit up like a Christmas tree and he laughed harder and harder with each passing second. After a minute of that he explained what I had said in Vietnamese.

"I know your sister, she is very pretty, I've had her from the back side", was his answer and we all began to laugh. He explained that it was the worst kind of offense to say about a man's sister, wife or mother.

Many years later, as I told this story to my friends, I coined the term :Sexual Warfare". As Sean Connery would say: "Thus endeth the lesson".