Go to google then to snopes and type in "Lt. Colonel Matthew Dooley Fired". I hope that's enough of a source document to give credence to my ranting and raving about the Military Purge that we are experiencing.
You will discover that some Islamic Group complained about his course of instruction at The War College and that complaint resulted in his dismissal. Well, I have a complaint about that. Here goes:
What in God's name are Muslims doing knowing anything about the teachings that go on at our military institutions? In my world, they are spies and should be immediately arrested and charged with any number of crimes. In defense of that, let me ask you to review the Ft. Hood shootings that should be referred to as Ft. Hood Murders by a Muslim. Do the math.
History shows that there's only so much we can take before the shit hits the fan. I say that the shit is just about to do exactly that. Y'all have a nice day. I'm going to the hospital. Tim
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Hate is a good thing and Sadness is a far cry from Depression.
Mixed emotions going on here.
On the high side of mixed emotions, let me say that I'm most thankful for the care I have been given at the VA and for the resulting ability it has given me to properly classify a number of emotions we all have. Hate is one of them.
Until recently, I hated a Captain from my days in Vietnam and I hated him more than any other human being on the planet. In 1971, in the midst of supporting black ops during the Cambodian Invasion, I threatened to kill him and I meant it.
I left the Army because of him and I knowingly did that at the cost of flying the twin rotor, Chinook CH 47, a transition course I had already been approved for. Hatred sometimes has a huge price tag and sometimes it lasts a lifetime. I carried that with me for 47 years and I never spent a single year of freedom from that level of hate.
On the low side of mixed emotions, I've lived to see some things that have taken me to the pits of sadness. There's a long road between sadness and depression but whether it's the death of a loved one or something as simple as the death of a pet, I know the difference between sadness and depression.
I say these things because I discovered something today that makes me very, very sad.
For the first time since World War II ended, the governments of Germany and Japan are re-arming. That's right. Things have changed so much, no one can depend on their ally to come to their aid in the event they are attacked. That's one hell of a decision to make, especially from Countries that experienced the death and destruction that comes when you make the wrong decisions.
When I think about my father and mother, I think about the move they made from Shreveport to Camp Beauregard, Louisiana during the 2nd World War. They worked like dogs until the War ended and they were able to go home. Uncle Woodrow went to Chicago with the Navy and his brother went to New Guinea.
When I think about my Uncles, they were incredible and fought in every Theatre of the war. Uncle Earl's job was killing Nazis in U Boats off the east coast. He was hunting subs for the Coast Guard and spent many nights in the cold, dark Atlantic trying to kill them before they killed any more of us.
Uncle Charles was with the Army Air Corp and his brother, Uncle Joe, fought against Irwin Rommel and the Afrika Corp where the Muslims captured him, turned him over to the Nazis, and he spent the rest of the war in a Nazi POW camp.
Uncle Wayne fought his way from Normandy all the way to Mathausen Concentration Camp where he was the first U.S. Army Medic to walk through the gate, look at the starving, emaciated Jews that were imprisoned there awaiting death in the gas chambers, and then he told them "We are Americans, we've killed all the Germans and we're here to liberate you".
On the day after D Day at Normandy, Uncle Parker, Uncle Morris Ray and a personal friend, Eddie Joyce, left Hawaii on board U.S. Navy ships and began the long, deadly trip through the Pacific Theatre, all the way to Tokyo via Guadalcanal, Saipan, Tinian, Okinawa and Iwo Jima. With today's news, I have to ask myself, what in the hell happened to the things they fought for?
I don't believe my sadness should be viewed as any kind of weakness whatsoever. It comes from a true sense of love and admiration for the true heroes from World War I (Uncle Shirley Hebert) and World War II. It also includes my USMC brother Leland who lived in "Rocket City", Chu Li, South Vietnam and my son, Tim Jr. who spent his tour in the Persian Gulf aboard the USS Enterprise, a most famous aircraft carrier.
When I add all of the officers and men who helped me along the path of a helicopter pilot that flew Nighthawk Gunships with the 199th Light Infantry Brigade and the 11th Armored Cav and then transitioning into OH6s to fly Scout missions with Hunter Killer Teams, I assure you, we all took our turn in doing our duty.
You might ask how I've managed to be sad instead of depressed. I'll tell you. More than anything, during 4 years of study in the PTSD and Suicide Prevention Department at the VA, I've taken a 12 week long, very intensive course of instruction that focuses on "emotions" at the VA hospital.
Thanks to Roger Flatt for that and thanks also to everybody else there who has been so supportive in helping me along the long path that comes after TBI, brain surgery, chemo, radiation and all of the little gifts that keep on giving when those treatments are finished.
Thanks to Guy Kinnebrew, Dr. Phillip Haddad, my niece Paige, a great nurse, thanks to Becky, Waylon, Lisa, Doctor Barnes, Rosie Mason, my patient advocate, Dr. Khakani, who has worked wonders on my Agent Orange issues and Vincent in the Cat scan Department. They aren't the only ones.
Outside of the VA, there are lots of guys that I flew with as co pilot and Pilot in Command. There were gunners, crew chiefs, one former jeep driver and members of the Mustang Motorcycle Club that showed up in Houston to lend support during the emergency brain surgery.
Thanks to Tim Jr and Kristin for leaving the Enterprise and allowing me to live with them from the time of the wreck in June of 2009 until January 1st, 2011 when I managed to move from their home and begin to live by myself.
Thanks to Jay, Woody, Hubert and Richard for keeping me on the payroll until December of 2010 when the mandate to retire was made. Tons of people giving tons of help have allowed me to stay "Intellectually Engaged" and not allow the current set of circumstances to overcome me.
In the words of Bernie Diable, let me say this: "Pay attention to detail". When you do that, you'll see that history repeats itself and when it does, sometimes it gets really nasty. Keep that in mind and remember that a guy with half a brain, one eye and a 4 year long history of being in "The Mental Health Clinic", told you so. I'm sure that there will be more on this later. History demands it.
On the high side of mixed emotions, let me say that I'm most thankful for the care I have been given at the VA and for the resulting ability it has given me to properly classify a number of emotions we all have. Hate is one of them.
Until recently, I hated a Captain from my days in Vietnam and I hated him more than any other human being on the planet. In 1971, in the midst of supporting black ops during the Cambodian Invasion, I threatened to kill him and I meant it.
I left the Army because of him and I knowingly did that at the cost of flying the twin rotor, Chinook CH 47, a transition course I had already been approved for. Hatred sometimes has a huge price tag and sometimes it lasts a lifetime. I carried that with me for 47 years and I never spent a single year of freedom from that level of hate.
On the low side of mixed emotions, I've lived to see some things that have taken me to the pits of sadness. There's a long road between sadness and depression but whether it's the death of a loved one or something as simple as the death of a pet, I know the difference between sadness and depression.
I say these things because I discovered something today that makes me very, very sad.
For the first time since World War II ended, the governments of Germany and Japan are re-arming. That's right. Things have changed so much, no one can depend on their ally to come to their aid in the event they are attacked. That's one hell of a decision to make, especially from Countries that experienced the death and destruction that comes when you make the wrong decisions.
When I think about my father and mother, I think about the move they made from Shreveport to Camp Beauregard, Louisiana during the 2nd World War. They worked like dogs until the War ended and they were able to go home. Uncle Woodrow went to Chicago with the Navy and his brother went to New Guinea.
When I think about my Uncles, they were incredible and fought in every Theatre of the war. Uncle Earl's job was killing Nazis in U Boats off the east coast. He was hunting subs for the Coast Guard and spent many nights in the cold, dark Atlantic trying to kill them before they killed any more of us.
Uncle Charles was with the Army Air Corp and his brother, Uncle Joe, fought against Irwin Rommel and the Afrika Corp where the Muslims captured him, turned him over to the Nazis, and he spent the rest of the war in a Nazi POW camp.
Uncle Wayne fought his way from Normandy all the way to Mathausen Concentration Camp where he was the first U.S. Army Medic to walk through the gate, look at the starving, emaciated Jews that were imprisoned there awaiting death in the gas chambers, and then he told them "We are Americans, we've killed all the Germans and we're here to liberate you".
On the day after D Day at Normandy, Uncle Parker, Uncle Morris Ray and a personal friend, Eddie Joyce, left Hawaii on board U.S. Navy ships and began the long, deadly trip through the Pacific Theatre, all the way to Tokyo via Guadalcanal, Saipan, Tinian, Okinawa and Iwo Jima. With today's news, I have to ask myself, what in the hell happened to the things they fought for?
I don't believe my sadness should be viewed as any kind of weakness whatsoever. It comes from a true sense of love and admiration for the true heroes from World War I (Uncle Shirley Hebert) and World War II. It also includes my USMC brother Leland who lived in "Rocket City", Chu Li, South Vietnam and my son, Tim Jr. who spent his tour in the Persian Gulf aboard the USS Enterprise, a most famous aircraft carrier.
When I add all of the officers and men who helped me along the path of a helicopter pilot that flew Nighthawk Gunships with the 199th Light Infantry Brigade and the 11th Armored Cav and then transitioning into OH6s to fly Scout missions with Hunter Killer Teams, I assure you, we all took our turn in doing our duty.
You might ask how I've managed to be sad instead of depressed. I'll tell you. More than anything, during 4 years of study in the PTSD and Suicide Prevention Department at the VA, I've taken a 12 week long, very intensive course of instruction that focuses on "emotions" at the VA hospital.
Thanks to Roger Flatt for that and thanks also to everybody else there who has been so supportive in helping me along the long path that comes after TBI, brain surgery, chemo, radiation and all of the little gifts that keep on giving when those treatments are finished.
Thanks to Guy Kinnebrew, Dr. Phillip Haddad, my niece Paige, a great nurse, thanks to Becky, Waylon, Lisa, Doctor Barnes, Rosie Mason, my patient advocate, Dr. Khakani, who has worked wonders on my Agent Orange issues and Vincent in the Cat scan Department. They aren't the only ones.
Outside of the VA, there are lots of guys that I flew with as co pilot and Pilot in Command. There were gunners, crew chiefs, one former jeep driver and members of the Mustang Motorcycle Club that showed up in Houston to lend support during the emergency brain surgery.
Thanks to Tim Jr and Kristin for leaving the Enterprise and allowing me to live with them from the time of the wreck in June of 2009 until January 1st, 2011 when I managed to move from their home and begin to live by myself.
Thanks to Jay, Woody, Hubert and Richard for keeping me on the payroll until December of 2010 when the mandate to retire was made. Tons of people giving tons of help have allowed me to stay "Intellectually Engaged" and not allow the current set of circumstances to overcome me.
In the words of Bernie Diable, let me say this: "Pay attention to detail". When you do that, you'll see that history repeats itself and when it does, sometimes it gets really nasty. Keep that in mind and remember that a guy with half a brain, one eye and a 4 year long history of being in "The Mental Health Clinic", told you so. I'm sure that there will be more on this later. History demands it.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
More Political Correctness
With regard to Political Correctness, I would like to make a suggestion or two. If we're going to live under the threat of a law suit when or if we use the politically incorrect words to describe or identify a particular group, why don't we just go ahead and invent new words that have the same meaning?
Let's take the word "Femme-Nazi".
I don't know if Rush Limbaugh invented it but I assume that somebody did so out of need. There was a time in this Country when accusing someone of being a Nazi, would produce a group of G men doing recon work around some one's house, following their every move and hoping to arrest another Nazi while they were working hard to rid the Country of crap like that. I like the word Femme-Nazi. I think most of us see it as a proper description of some bitch that acts like a Socialist but plays like they're a real American.
As I think about these things, I think about the other politically correct demands upon our language. I recently saw a film clip of a speech given by the Muslim Brotherhood at some college in California. The speaker, Soontobededd Ababba, stated in no uncertain terms that he wanted the press to "Stop Calling Them Suicide Bombers".
Well now, isn't that interesting. What would you call someone who straps a bomb to his or her chest and then kills themselves in the middle of a crowd of people while managing to kill as many of those people as possible? Sounds like suicide bombers to me but I will admit that we probably need to make a change to suicide murderers or something like that..
I could go on an on about the words. Whether it's the N word or other words like Muslim terrorists, Islamaphobia or anything else related to that group, most likely, you would get in trouble if you use it at the wrong time and the wrong place. As I continue to think about how screwed up that is, I always go back to the studies of Maximilian Weber.
Max was a pretty smart guy and he did a lot of study about "Cults". One of the things I remember about his conclusions surrounded the fact that people don't like to be called Cult members. Can you imagine that? Charles Manson's group was called the Manson Family and his members damn sure didn't want to be referred to as a cult.
Remember Jim Jones and the cool aide drinkers? How about Heaven's Gate or something close to that? Nazi, Commie, White Supremacists, Black Panthers and a few other Cult members should be changed to the STBD Cult or "Soon to be deported". You see, STBD is pretty close to STD which is a politically correct initial for Sexually Transmitted Disease. Wait a minute. Do you think that STD might have a connection with STBD? Why not? Somebody produced the STBD group and they had to do that sexually. Aren't STBD types a disease of some sort?
That idea has produced a thought about another blog post or maybe even a film clip. I'll just stop here and see about spending a little time in history to share what happened when a bad guy has sex with a bad woman and produces another bad guy. Ain't nothin' better than submittin' some of that scientific proof stuff when you gotta make a point. See ya in a bit.
Let's take the word "Femme-Nazi".
I don't know if Rush Limbaugh invented it but I assume that somebody did so out of need. There was a time in this Country when accusing someone of being a Nazi, would produce a group of G men doing recon work around some one's house, following their every move and hoping to arrest another Nazi while they were working hard to rid the Country of crap like that. I like the word Femme-Nazi. I think most of us see it as a proper description of some bitch that acts like a Socialist but plays like they're a real American.
As I think about these things, I think about the other politically correct demands upon our language. I recently saw a film clip of a speech given by the Muslim Brotherhood at some college in California. The speaker, Soontobededd Ababba, stated in no uncertain terms that he wanted the press to "Stop Calling Them Suicide Bombers".
Well now, isn't that interesting. What would you call someone who straps a bomb to his or her chest and then kills themselves in the middle of a crowd of people while managing to kill as many of those people as possible? Sounds like suicide bombers to me but I will admit that we probably need to make a change to suicide murderers or something like that..
I could go on an on about the words. Whether it's the N word or other words like Muslim terrorists, Islamaphobia or anything else related to that group, most likely, you would get in trouble if you use it at the wrong time and the wrong place. As I continue to think about how screwed up that is, I always go back to the studies of Maximilian Weber.
Max was a pretty smart guy and he did a lot of study about "Cults". One of the things I remember about his conclusions surrounded the fact that people don't like to be called Cult members. Can you imagine that? Charles Manson's group was called the Manson Family and his members damn sure didn't want to be referred to as a cult.
Remember Jim Jones and the cool aide drinkers? How about Heaven's Gate or something close to that? Nazi, Commie, White Supremacists, Black Panthers and a few other Cult members should be changed to the STBD Cult or "Soon to be deported". You see, STBD is pretty close to STD which is a politically correct initial for Sexually Transmitted Disease. Wait a minute. Do you think that STD might have a connection with STBD? Why not? Somebody produced the STBD group and they had to do that sexually. Aren't STBD types a disease of some sort?
That idea has produced a thought about another blog post or maybe even a film clip. I'll just stop here and see about spending a little time in history to share what happened when a bad guy has sex with a bad woman and produces another bad guy. Ain't nothin' better than submittin' some of that scientific proof stuff when you gotta make a point. See ya in a bit.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Bernie and Curt
I received a couple of comments regarding my last post. I flew Hueys with Curt and Bernie was my tac officer from Primary Helicopter Training at Ft. Wolters in 1969. With regard to furthering the idea of my upcoming news programs and history lessons, google "Wild Bill of America" and you can get a rough idea of how I'm trying to put it all together. Thanks to Bernie and Curt for the welcome home message. Tim
Friday, January 24, 2014
Political Correctness Can Kiss My Ass
As you can see, I'm doing a bit better now. No more pain in the eye but nothing else on the books to get it squared away so I can see with my right eye. No surgery scheduled but I'm hoping something can be done. No, I'm not planning on flying anymore nor am I thinking about another motorcycle. I've been thinking about this PC crap that doesn't allow anyone to say anything about anybody for fear it will be offensive.
Having said that, let me say that the Political Correctness crap hasn't effected or infected my brain. I gotta new game I'm gonna play and it involves a movie camera and personal history lessons from me explaining all this crap.
After years of study I have concluded a whole lot of stuff about this appeasement garbage, the evil process that goes with it. I went all the way back to the beginning and studied everything I could about the things that brought about the American Revolutionary War, who had to do what to win it and a whole lot of other things that followed after that. It's been quite interesting but to get the word out to as many as possible, I decided that you tube was the best way, especially for those who haven't had the time to dig up all the information I have or those who skipped school when they taught these things.
Y'all just be patient, we are working on it as fast as we can. We set up the movie studio, shot our first test run and realized we didn't have enough light. We bought more tripods and some reflector lights but they were stolen from my storage room before we had the opportunity to do "Take 2". It was only $75.00 worth of lighting but it has caused delays in getting all of the lighting and sound issues addressed. I'm working on it.
Y'all get ready, Professor Tim is coming to school and he's got a lot of source documents to prove his points. There will be a test but it won't be given by me. Keep your powder dry.
Tim
Having said that, let me say that the Political Correctness crap hasn't effected or infected my brain. I gotta new game I'm gonna play and it involves a movie camera and personal history lessons from me explaining all this crap.
After years of study I have concluded a whole lot of stuff about this appeasement garbage, the evil process that goes with it. I went all the way back to the beginning and studied everything I could about the things that brought about the American Revolutionary War, who had to do what to win it and a whole lot of other things that followed after that. It's been quite interesting but to get the word out to as many as possible, I decided that you tube was the best way, especially for those who haven't had the time to dig up all the information I have or those who skipped school when they taught these things.
Y'all just be patient, we are working on it as fast as we can. We set up the movie studio, shot our first test run and realized we didn't have enough light. We bought more tripods and some reflector lights but they were stolen from my storage room before we had the opportunity to do "Take 2". It was only $75.00 worth of lighting but it has caused delays in getting all of the lighting and sound issues addressed. I'm working on it.
Y'all get ready, Professor Tim is coming to school and he's got a lot of source documents to prove his points. There will be a test but it won't be given by me. Keep your powder dry.
Tim
Monday, January 13, 2014
Eye Infection stops posts
I've had a serious eye infection but should be able to write soon. Thanks. Tim
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Sweet Britches 69 and the Benghazi Babe.
I wrote a satire for the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment, Air Cav Troop. I just couldn't help myself.
I wrote it in a manner that would deliver radio exchanges between Raider 6, the ground commander and Blue 28, the helicopter pilot that was flying over the area where Raider 6 was reporting from. In 1970, I was Blue 28 and Raider 6 was a Lt. named Doug that I'm still in contact with today.
As I began the exchanges, I used our call signs to identify who was who and what was going on.
"Blue 28, this is Raider 6, come in".
That's pretty typical of initial contacts made between the ground commander and the guys flying the Huey that was considered as C&C or the Command and Control ship. I answered the call just like I had done many times before during real combat missions.
"Raider 6, this is Blue 28, go ahead, I have you loud and clear". His request was as follows:
"Blue 28, Raider 6, we have many bad guys crossing the border here. Request the trax move in for support. Let's get those tanks moving. Also request the slicks come in and bring lots of M 60 ammo, over".
"Raider 6, understand tanks and ammo needed. Will contact Thunderhorse 6 and comply. Please stand by, over".
"28, this is 6, standing by".
Normally, we would have the Commanding Officer in the back of the Huey but by now, you know how things are going. Sequester, sequester, sequester, purge, purge, purge.
At that time, I made the radio call to the Tactical Operations Center to contact the boss, Thunder Horse 6, and pass along Raider 6's request.
Initially, I had no answer at all and repeated the call. "Thunder Horse 6, this is Blue 28, come in please". I heard a squelch break and made out some muttering in the back ground.
"Oh my goodness, what's wrong with this machine. Oh no, I broke a nail. Oh, uh, Blue 28 can you hear me now".
"This is Blue 28, request Thunder Horse 6, please, this is critical". Once again I waited and waited for a response and then, it happened again.
"Blue 28, they sent that nasty man home. Oh, he was so prejudiced, so judgmental, I could have just scratched his eyes out. This is Sweet Britches 69, I'm at the top of this big pile now. What can I do for you, honey".
When I heard that, I had that sinking feeling and said: "This is Blue 28, disregard, I will deploy this high freq antenna and go direct. Blue 28, out". Before I had an opportunity to prepare the high freq radio for a really long distance transmission, I heard squelch break again and was shocked at the reply.
"You listen to me Blue Boy. I'm the man with the fuzzy nuts now and don't you think you can make me break a nail and then hang up in my face. You better call me back and apologize". This is Sweet Britches 69 and you better snap to, boy".
I managed to get on with the job at hand and after extending the high freq antenna, I made my call to Headquarters.
"HQ this is Blue 28 with a high priority request for armor and ammo at Raider 6's location, Please advise". Once again, there came the squelch break from another idiot on the other end of the radio.
I couldn't believe it. The unit was full of pretty boys and there wasn't a real combat veteran anywhere near a radio.
"HQ, this is Blue 28, Raider 6 has a priority request for tank and ammo support, put somebody on the line with some authority, over".
"Blue 28, this is Pretty Boy 69, what seems to be the problem, honey"? I repeated Doug's request and decided to stay out of the conversation about the quality of radio operators since the new administration took over.
"69 this is Blue 28, Raider 6 has spotted a large formation of bad buys coming across the border and has requested armor and ammunition support".
"Blue 28 this is Pretty Boy 69, keep your pants on honey, I'll go into the room where the Benghazi Babe is having a conversation with Mrs. Kerry and get back with you in a snappy poo".
At that point in time I began to get the feel of things and managed to see how things went in Benghazi the night of the attack. As I was thinking about a group of hard core combat veterans begging for support, the radio broke squelch again and I heard the reply.
"Blue 28, this is 69, you stop this attack thingy right now. Those are not bad people, they are peace loving individuals who only seek a better life. You contact that Raider boy and tell him that they should go home and leave those civilians alone, over".
"69, this is Blue 28, I repeat, we have bad guys in the open. They are carrying AKs and suicide vests. Get that bitch on the line and either refuse the request or send the tanks, over".
"Blue 28, this is Hilly Babe, the tanks are in Cairo and there will not be any more bullets issued to that Raider gang. Those people are coming and they are going to stay, so What Difference Does It Make"?
By that time I was so mad I quit using military protocol and simply said: "Y'all can throw your medals over the fence but I'll be go to hell if you think I'm going to throw Raider 6 and his men under the bus. Go back to your bowling game and your Peace, Love and Happiness club while we take care of these murderous pieces of shit you are letting into the Country" Blue 28, over and out".
I turned off the radio and went back to FM and made the call to Raider 6.
"Raider 6, this is Blue 28". That call was immediately answered by Doug. "Blue 28, this is Raider 6, go ahead".
Raider 6, we called the TOC and had to go direct to the Head Shed. The Bitch from Benghazi was there and she has refused to resupply you and asked "What Difference Does It Make, I'm going to let them stay". Suggest you escape and evade as best you can. There's no fuel for the Hueys and there will be no extraction, over".
"Blue 28, Raider 6. We will blow up the bridge, shoot a few peace lovers and E&E back to home base. Raider 5 is stealing a bus from the Hilly for President campaign and I will give you a shout on the land line when we make it back to New York State. Thanks for the try. Raider 6, out".
That pretty much ended the post I made but, in view of the fact that I actually took part in an extraction where 4 men were left behind in a battle that occurred in November of 1970, I couldn't imagine what it was like for the guys they left behind in Benghazi.
The more I think about the control of the mass media, the more time I spent trying to come up with a solution. Yesterday, I found one. I went to the Best Buy store and took Steve with me, all 6'9" of him. Some of us call him Uncle Tree.
He found a JVC movie camera complete with tripod and I bought it. I'm considering shooting a 2 or 3 minute newscast and posting it here every week just like Pat Condell and Wild Bill America does. When I thought about competing with Meagan, Kelly and all the other good looking women in the news business, I knew I couldn't compete. Even though Pat Condell looks more like me than Kelly or Meagan, I decided that I would have to do something really different to get everybody's attention.
I thought about the uniform fopahs where their boobs fell out of their blouses or their short skirts, where panties could be seen, and decided that I would be totally out of that league. Knowing that, I decided that I would need my owns special uniform to wear when broadcasting the news.
When Steve gets here and we make the first show, I'll publish it here as a trial run. At that time, you will understand where I came up with the title" The Long Underwear News".
I wrote it in a manner that would deliver radio exchanges between Raider 6, the ground commander and Blue 28, the helicopter pilot that was flying over the area where Raider 6 was reporting from. In 1970, I was Blue 28 and Raider 6 was a Lt. named Doug that I'm still in contact with today.
As I began the exchanges, I used our call signs to identify who was who and what was going on.
"Blue 28, this is Raider 6, come in".
That's pretty typical of initial contacts made between the ground commander and the guys flying the Huey that was considered as C&C or the Command and Control ship. I answered the call just like I had done many times before during real combat missions.
"Raider 6, this is Blue 28, go ahead, I have you loud and clear". His request was as follows:
"Blue 28, Raider 6, we have many bad guys crossing the border here. Request the trax move in for support. Let's get those tanks moving. Also request the slicks come in and bring lots of M 60 ammo, over".
"Raider 6, understand tanks and ammo needed. Will contact Thunderhorse 6 and comply. Please stand by, over".
"28, this is 6, standing by".
Normally, we would have the Commanding Officer in the back of the Huey but by now, you know how things are going. Sequester, sequester, sequester, purge, purge, purge.
At that time, I made the radio call to the Tactical Operations Center to contact the boss, Thunder Horse 6, and pass along Raider 6's request.
Initially, I had no answer at all and repeated the call. "Thunder Horse 6, this is Blue 28, come in please". I heard a squelch break and made out some muttering in the back ground.
"Oh my goodness, what's wrong with this machine. Oh no, I broke a nail. Oh, uh, Blue 28 can you hear me now".
"This is Blue 28, request Thunder Horse 6, please, this is critical". Once again I waited and waited for a response and then, it happened again.
"Blue 28, they sent that nasty man home. Oh, he was so prejudiced, so judgmental, I could have just scratched his eyes out. This is Sweet Britches 69, I'm at the top of this big pile now. What can I do for you, honey".
When I heard that, I had that sinking feeling and said: "This is Blue 28, disregard, I will deploy this high freq antenna and go direct. Blue 28, out". Before I had an opportunity to prepare the high freq radio for a really long distance transmission, I heard squelch break again and was shocked at the reply.
"You listen to me Blue Boy. I'm the man with the fuzzy nuts now and don't you think you can make me break a nail and then hang up in my face. You better call me back and apologize". This is Sweet Britches 69 and you better snap to, boy".
I managed to get on with the job at hand and after extending the high freq antenna, I made my call to Headquarters.
"HQ this is Blue 28 with a high priority request for armor and ammo at Raider 6's location, Please advise". Once again, there came the squelch break from another idiot on the other end of the radio.
I couldn't believe it. The unit was full of pretty boys and there wasn't a real combat veteran anywhere near a radio.
"HQ, this is Blue 28, Raider 6 has a priority request for tank and ammo support, put somebody on the line with some authority, over".
"Blue 28, this is Pretty Boy 69, what seems to be the problem, honey"? I repeated Doug's request and decided to stay out of the conversation about the quality of radio operators since the new administration took over.
"69 this is Blue 28, Raider 6 has spotted a large formation of bad buys coming across the border and has requested armor and ammunition support".
"Blue 28 this is Pretty Boy 69, keep your pants on honey, I'll go into the room where the Benghazi Babe is having a conversation with Mrs. Kerry and get back with you in a snappy poo".
At that point in time I began to get the feel of things and managed to see how things went in Benghazi the night of the attack. As I was thinking about a group of hard core combat veterans begging for support, the radio broke squelch again and I heard the reply.
"Blue 28, this is 69, you stop this attack thingy right now. Those are not bad people, they are peace loving individuals who only seek a better life. You contact that Raider boy and tell him that they should go home and leave those civilians alone, over".
"69, this is Blue 28, I repeat, we have bad guys in the open. They are carrying AKs and suicide vests. Get that bitch on the line and either refuse the request or send the tanks, over".
"Blue 28, this is Hilly Babe, the tanks are in Cairo and there will not be any more bullets issued to that Raider gang. Those people are coming and they are going to stay, so What Difference Does It Make"?
By that time I was so mad I quit using military protocol and simply said: "Y'all can throw your medals over the fence but I'll be go to hell if you think I'm going to throw Raider 6 and his men under the bus. Go back to your bowling game and your Peace, Love and Happiness club while we take care of these murderous pieces of shit you are letting into the Country" Blue 28, over and out".
I turned off the radio and went back to FM and made the call to Raider 6.
"Raider 6, this is Blue 28". That call was immediately answered by Doug. "Blue 28, this is Raider 6, go ahead".
Raider 6, we called the TOC and had to go direct to the Head Shed. The Bitch from Benghazi was there and she has refused to resupply you and asked "What Difference Does It Make, I'm going to let them stay". Suggest you escape and evade as best you can. There's no fuel for the Hueys and there will be no extraction, over".
"Blue 28, Raider 6. We will blow up the bridge, shoot a few peace lovers and E&E back to home base. Raider 5 is stealing a bus from the Hilly for President campaign and I will give you a shout on the land line when we make it back to New York State. Thanks for the try. Raider 6, out".
That pretty much ended the post I made but, in view of the fact that I actually took part in an extraction where 4 men were left behind in a battle that occurred in November of 1970, I couldn't imagine what it was like for the guys they left behind in Benghazi.
The more I think about the control of the mass media, the more time I spent trying to come up with a solution. Yesterday, I found one. I went to the Best Buy store and took Steve with me, all 6'9" of him. Some of us call him Uncle Tree.
He found a JVC movie camera complete with tripod and I bought it. I'm considering shooting a 2 or 3 minute newscast and posting it here every week just like Pat Condell and Wild Bill America does. When I thought about competing with Meagan, Kelly and all the other good looking women in the news business, I knew I couldn't compete. Even though Pat Condell looks more like me than Kelly or Meagan, I decided that I would have to do something really different to get everybody's attention.
I thought about the uniform fopahs where their boobs fell out of their blouses or their short skirts, where panties could be seen, and decided that I would be totally out of that league. Knowing that, I decided that I would need my owns special uniform to wear when broadcasting the news.
When Steve gets here and we make the first show, I'll publish it here as a trial run. At that time, you will understand where I came up with the title" The Long Underwear News".
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