For the first time in my adult life I spoke the truth!
Former CBS News president Richard Salant (1961 - 64 and 1966 - 79) explained the major media's role: "Our job is to give people not what they want, but what we decide they ought to have." ...and to this very day most Americans haven't noticed they're being brained washed! ~ N. Hooben
Sunday, September 7, 2008
But I would like to ask you...
From my In-Box (Published without permission, originator's address removed.)
----- Original Message -----
Subject: To My Friends and Family
Some of you are committed Democrats or of the liberal persuasion. To those of you who are, please indulge me this one time and I promise to not bother you with future politically charged e-mails. But I would like to ask you...
What caused the decay of our society's morals? Did it begin with the bra-burning, pot-smoking protestors of the 60's? Was it the music of that generation (my generation) that influenced the baby boomers to gravitate to marijuana, LSD and other drugs? Or was it the leftist professors of our colleges and universities that bombarded those young minds with socialist propaganda that have fashioned the ultra liberals of today's adult society?
Whatever the cause, we now live in an era where killing unborn babies is not only acceptable but encouraged. Barack Obama has said if his daughters made a mistake he wouldn't want them punished with a baby. Since when is a precious baby punishment? Our primary schools are indoctrinating our seven year old children to accept homosexuality with such books as My Two Mommies. Our politicians and judges vote to approve marriage between same-sex partners and yet they deem prayer and the mention of God in schools and public places as unlawful. We are a nation divided, not only politically but morally as well.
These same politicians are willing to sacrifice our nation's sovereignty to the Almighty Vote by rewarding illegal immigrants with amnesty, citizenship and social services. Social services from which we working, tax-paying, life-long citizens are barred. In the interest of political correctness, school boards across our country make allowances to accomodate the Muslim population by providing foot baths, removing pork from menus and adding Ramadan to school programs. However, our schools no longer have Christmas Break, it is now Winter Break. Gone is Easter Break in favor of Spring Break. And we let it happen.
Our Congress now allows the oath of office to be taken with a hand on the Koran instead of the Bible, as was the case with Keith Ellison, the first African-American Muslim to be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives. We have come a long way from our Judeo-Christian beginnings in America.
We are a society subjected to the left-wing, liberal media manipulation in all forms: newspapers, magazines, network television and radio stations and cable networks. And yet, the liberal politicians in Washington want to take away conservative radio. It is called the Fairness Doctrine. Fairness Doctrine? Fair to whom? Nancy Pelosi and the liberals in Congress are the proponents of such legislation and if the Republican Party loses enough seats in the House of Representatives and the Senate, it will pass.
It is inconceivable that millions of voting citizens support Barack Obama merely on his ethnicity, his rhetoric and his pleasant voice. Those of us who live in Illinois know he did nothing on our collective behalf to improve our state. He voted "present" 130 times rather than make a yes or no decision on issues. If he couldn't make decisions at that level, how will he govern if elected President of the United States and in the face of issues critical to our country? He has been a United States Senator for 144 days, most of which he spent campaigning for the highest office of our nation. As a U.S. Senator, Barack Obama has not created one major legislative bill that has been enacted. Not one.
It is apparent that Senator Obama's friendship with William Ayers is acceptable, as is his twenty-year association with Rev. Jeremiah Wright, the now infamous reverend who calls upon God to damn America. No doubt Senator Obama cast aside his church, Trinity United Church of Christ, purely for political expediency. It is further obvious the media turns a blind eye to Obama's connections to Tony Rezko and Kwame Kilpatrick, a person Obama admires and calls friend. The media protects Sen. Obama at all costs.
Obama talks about change and yet he chose a 36-year Washington Insider senator as his running mate. That isn't change, it's business as usual. Don't be deceived into thinking you will be given "free" universal health care if Obama is elected president. It will cost you dearly in tax dollars and in the sacrifice of the best health services in the world. While it is obvious something must be done to deflate the outrageous cost of health insurance, universal health care is not the answer. England and Canada have recognized the disastrous results of socialized medicine and are easing away from those programs. The irony would be if we Americans are forced to one day travel to Canada for better medical care.
I pray reasonable Americans will vote wisely on November 4th and not vote for the charlatan, Barack Obama. America's sons fought for our freedom, some paid the ultimate price to ensure our country would forever remain a democracy. Don't dishonor them by a pencil mark on a ballot that would begin the end of democracy. Socialism ~ or worse ~ will very likely take its place.
Connie
----- Original Message -----
From: C..... .......
Sent: Sunday, September 07, 2008 6:36 PMSubject: To My Friends and Family
Some of you are committed Democrats or of the liberal persuasion. To those of you who are, please indulge me this one time and I promise to not bother you with future politically charged e-mails. But I would like to ask you...
What caused the decay of our society's morals? Did it begin with the bra-burning, pot-smoking protestors of the 60's? Was it the music of that generation (my generation) that influenced the baby boomers to gravitate to marijuana, LSD and other drugs? Or was it the leftist professors of our colleges and universities that bombarded those young minds with socialist propaganda that have fashioned the ultra liberals of today's adult society?
Whatever the cause, we now live in an era where killing unborn babies is not only acceptable but encouraged. Barack Obama has said if his daughters made a mistake he wouldn't want them punished with a baby. Since when is a precious baby punishment? Our primary schools are indoctrinating our seven year old children to accept homosexuality with such books as My Two Mommies. Our politicians and judges vote to approve marriage between same-sex partners and yet they deem prayer and the mention of God in schools and public places as unlawful. We are a nation divided, not only politically but morally as well.
These same politicians are willing to sacrifice our nation's sovereignty to the Almighty Vote by rewarding illegal immigrants with amnesty, citizenship and social services. Social services from which we working, tax-paying, life-long citizens are barred. In the interest of political correctness, school boards across our country make allowances to accomodate the Muslim population by providing foot baths, removing pork from menus and adding Ramadan to school programs. However, our schools no longer have Christmas Break, it is now Winter Break. Gone is Easter Break in favor of Spring Break. And we let it happen.
Our Congress now allows the oath of office to be taken with a hand on the Koran instead of the Bible, as was the case with Keith Ellison, the first African-American Muslim to be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives. We have come a long way from our Judeo-Christian beginnings in America.
We are a society subjected to the left-wing, liberal media manipulation in all forms: newspapers, magazines, network television and radio stations and cable networks. And yet, the liberal politicians in Washington want to take away conservative radio. It is called the Fairness Doctrine. Fairness Doctrine? Fair to whom? Nancy Pelosi and the liberals in Congress are the proponents of such legislation and if the Republican Party loses enough seats in the House of Representatives and the Senate, it will pass.
It is inconceivable that millions of voting citizens support Barack Obama merely on his ethnicity, his rhetoric and his pleasant voice. Those of us who live in Illinois know he did nothing on our collective behalf to improve our state. He voted "present" 130 times rather than make a yes or no decision on issues. If he couldn't make decisions at that level, how will he govern if elected President of the United States and in the face of issues critical to our country? He has been a United States Senator for 144 days, most of which he spent campaigning for the highest office of our nation. As a U.S. Senator, Barack Obama has not created one major legislative bill that has been enacted. Not one.
It is apparent that Senator Obama's friendship with William Ayers is acceptable, as is his twenty-year association with Rev. Jeremiah Wright, the now infamous reverend who calls upon God to damn America. No doubt Senator Obama cast aside his church, Trinity United Church of Christ, purely for political expediency. It is further obvious the media turns a blind eye to Obama's connections to Tony Rezko and Kwame Kilpatrick, a person Obama admires and calls friend. The media protects Sen. Obama at all costs.
Obama talks about change and yet he chose a 36-year Washington Insider senator as his running mate. That isn't change, it's business as usual. Don't be deceived into thinking you will be given "free" universal health care if Obama is elected president. It will cost you dearly in tax dollars and in the sacrifice of the best health services in the world. While it is obvious something must be done to deflate the outrageous cost of health insurance, universal health care is not the answer. England and Canada have recognized the disastrous results of socialized medicine and are easing away from those programs. The irony would be if we Americans are forced to one day travel to Canada for better medical care.
I pray reasonable Americans will vote wisely on November 4th and not vote for the charlatan, Barack Obama. America's sons fought for our freedom, some paid the ultimate price to ensure our country would forever remain a democracy. Don't dishonor them by a pencil mark on a ballot that would begin the end of democracy. Socialism ~ or worse ~ will very likely take its place.
Connie
Real News From The Front Lines
Warning - Language may not be suitable for children...or saintly wives. 
Real News From The Front Lines
The following message was received in an e-mail that originated in Iraq. If the story is true (and it sounds very plausible) then these guys are truly special people…Marines, who know how to get the job done. Although I usually do not allow cuss words to be used on this website, I make the exception here. After all these are Marines in the thick of it! If you were in their situation you might use stronger language…you might also pray. These Marines apparently did not have time to pray. God bless ‘em.
If the story is not true it makes a good ad for Marlboro cigarettes.
Time: 1130
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Corporal M. checked his rifle over for the third time in ten minutes. He was always re-checking his gear before mission, and this time was no different.
"Calm down, Colin" his spotter said looking up at him "We've done this 50 times by now man, you're good. Trust me, we're both good."
"Yeah I know man, I'm not worried, it's just a nice idea to be sure I'm good to go. I don't think my wife will be too pleased if I come home in a box because my rifle didn't fire." was his response. They have had this discussion before, and would undoubtedly have it again. It was almost as daily as his PCC's. But for now the young corporal was done. He looked down at the city below him. People were just going by their daily business. A few Humvee's were roaming the streets, but nothing big was happening. Kids were running around the playground. Moore laughed a little as he thought to himself.. It's a war, and kids are out on the swing set.
"Two Minutes, Corporal." the headset crackled as the pilot Cheif Warrent Officer A. announced their progress. They were two minutes out. Two minutes from a boring day trying to pass time and falling victim to countless hours of boredom, till it was time to take their shot. They had come in contact before, but nothing big had really happened. Raids were fun for the first few times, then they became stale and repetitive. Kick in the door, yell at everyone to get down, search the house, come up dry, say sorry and leave. Of course there were a few exceptions in which they stormed a house and made contact. There were those days where RPG's were flying overhead and the enemy was hard charging and up to fight. But most days it was the same. A sniper set one day, and driving down the street waiting to get blown up another. A friend back home asked him about the IED's. He asked how many they find. His response was quick as he shot back
"We find every IED we encounter." He knew what he had gotten into already and waited for the follow up.
"So how do you find them?"
"They blow us up." The conversation had ended there.
"30 Seconds, M." the radio said. M. cursed himself for spacing out, he should be watching the streets below. It's always good to at least get a little bit of a view of the area they would be in. Just in case shit hit the fan, they could make a fast retreat and would have a least a basic idea on which ways were crowded or blocked off. His spotter, Private First Class, Logan B. was spacing out as usual. Probably dreaming about beer. Or maybe home. Probably beer.
"Alright gentlemen" he heard "We've arrived at our final destination. It's time for you to get the fuck out my bird, and please, put your seats in the upright and locked positions. Thank you for flying Peace Keeper 1-3 airlines." M. and B. jumped out quickly and started to move away from the Black Hawk so they could be clear to leave. The longer they were there the more attention they would receive.
The two snipers ran out of their little clearing and into the urban jungle that they would make their fortress. They needed a high building with a good view to see their target. An arms dealer that was driving around the market place dealing out of his trunk. The man was smart in not having one location, it was hard to track him. And with a security detail of over 200 men, he could put up a fight if you wanted to try to take him head on. He fielded a powerful arsenal of grenades, rockets, snipers, machine guns, and AK-47s stockpiled throughout the city. His men could be notified and fighting in less than 15 minutes time. He was a tricky bastard, and thought he was well protected. But not this time, because now he was about to deal with an enemy that was ready to sneak in and kill him from over half a kilometer away. He'd be long dead, and they would be on their way to the extraction point before the people around him heard the shot. If they worked fast enough anyway. Which they would. They had come close before but he slipped away. This time there would be no mistakes. Unfortunately they couldn't get a high building. For some reason, command told them to go on a certain building. It was the first time they had ordered them to do so, and neither men liked the idea. But they had to do what they were ordered.
"Logan, give me ranged on those buildings up there, the marketplace, and the clearing behind us." M. said as he started setting up the spotting scope and rifle.
"Left building 600 meters, Right 450 clearing 750, marketplace 550, and that bridge beyond the clearing, 900.." B. replied shortly after. M. was on the radio talking to X-Ray
"Regulator X-Ray this is Lightning Viper, set at Location Alpha, Grid follows, break" he said into the mic "Grid: Sierra Victor, Two-Two-Five..Two-Nine-Three, how copy, over"
"Viper out" he said again. No doubt X-Ray told him they got the grid and good luck. Just like every time.
M. picked up his M24 sniper rifle and placed the butt stock into his shoulder and started to look at the area. Bowers was scanning with his 20X M49 spotting scope. It was a little old, but Bowers had always preferred it. His dad, a Marine Scout Sniper, had used the very same spotting scope in Desert Storm. Now Bowers continued it's use in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Maybe his son would join the Military and become a sniper. Then he could use the spotting scope in whatever war he fought in. His dad had always asked about the M24, which was the Army's answer to the M40 that his father used during the Gulf War, but there wasn't much differences in the two. They both shot out to about the same distance, both were 7.62, and bolt action. B. wasn't as much of a fan of the M24 as his shooter was. He loved the M107 personally. Something about a .50 Caliber sniper rifle just made him giggle like a school girl whenever M. brought it out. They could punch that beast out to over two kilometers away. The raw power of the rifle was something that everyone would always awe over. He almost felt like a celebrity whenever he came back onto the FOB, walking in with their assault rifles and two, sometimes three, sniper rifles. They were outsiders in the area, Scout Snipers in the 3rd ACR attached to the 10th Mountain Division. The rest of their unit were back in the states still. They weren't supposed to deploy for another two months, and when they did deploy he would have to start his 15 month tour with them. After spending 4 months in Iraq already. Everyone else was on leave, and getting ready to deploy. Half days, and 4 day weekends, Friday BBQ's and platoon parties. He could be home in Indiana with his family this weekend, but instead he was sitting on a low building looking through a twenty powered scope waiting for some guy to come and do his business. The bastard might not even show up, half the time they get Intel it's bad. He scanned to the left and down a little bit. There was a bunch of kids walking towards them. He looked away and pulled out the binoculars, they were closing in fairly fast, but were looking around for something.
"Colin, I got some kids coming in man. They're looking for something it seems."
"They're probably looking for us. These guys heard the chopper come in, so instead of searching for us themselves and risking getting shot, they're sending a bunch of kids to find us."
"You think they'll find us?"
"Oh I know they will."
"Then what do we do?"
"Hope that our guy shows up before the guns do."
"Great.." B. wasn't exactly looking forward to a big fight. Hopefully they'll be out of here soon. He scanned back out to the marketplace just as a car came up. He looked down at the notes he scribbled earlier. "Black BMW, windows tinted." he had written. So the guy was working out of a black BMW, easy enough. At least it wasn't a white car, or pick-up. He could count 50 of those in a matter of seconds. He went back to the car, sure enough it was black with tinted windows. Looked about like a BMW. He looked over at the kids again, they were gone. Then back at the car as the doors started to open.
"I think we got our man."
"I see him, wait for PID." M. picked up the picture they had of the man and looked back into his Leupold 3 1/2 to 10 X scope. Then back at the picture, then through his scope again. "Yep that's him alright. Hit me brother." B. was already scirbbling down notes and looking through his Laser Range Finder.
"Barometric pressure at 30.5, humidity: 83 percent, temperature: 117°... He's 560 meters out.. elevation: five up, 1.5 minutes of angle, wind: 13 mph from two o'clock, deflection: three minutes of angle right and add .5 for spin drift." A few seconds went by as M. dialed in his adjustments. His Leupold had the 1/4 minute adjustments in elevation so he could pretty much zero it to a gnats eye lash if he wanted too. And he did.. He always wanted to make the first shot count. One shot one kill. Then they could get out of there.
"Ready when you are." he said calmly. B. got into his spotting scope and got ready to watch the vapor trail in case M. missed. He hardly missed, but you never knew.
"Punch that shit."
M. took a deep breath and held it as he slowly started to pull back on the trigger. It was set to three pounds, just the way he liked it. There was no detectable trigger movement, but he knew when it would fire. He couldn't hear what was going on around him. He blocked out everything around him. There was nothing but him and the coming shot. The trigger would break smoothly without follow through... He continued to squeeze and the rifle slammed into his shoulder as the muzzle rose just enough from the recoil to loose his target. M. held through the recoil however and the scope dropped back into place. He saw the bullet slam into the arms dealer. His head burst and he fell behind the car, dropping the rifle he was getting ready to sell. His buyer started running fast, not wanting to be the next target for the riflemen over 550 meters away.
"Right in the head, nice shot." B. said.
"Lets pack this shit up, I'm calling up X-Ray for extraction." M. reached for the radio just as the ground in front of his face exploded. Dirt and little pieces of the roof hit his face as the familiar crack of a Dragunov sniper rifle shot reached his ears.
"Sniper!" He heard B.s yell as he was diving for cover. Moore was moving too, before even realizing it. "They shot came from the right, he has to be in those buildings somewhere. I have no clue where though. Any Ideas?" B. yelled trying to figure out away to look.
"I got nothing man, there's too many fucking rooms in there.. I'm trying to see if I see anything, but I got nothing yet." Just as his finished his sentence he heard the whine of an an RPG and looked up to see the rocket flying towards them. Maybe two feet overhead the rocket flew and exploded on the other side of the roof. Shrapnel and concrete flew as M. tried find the gunner. He saw a figure on the roof running and he picked up his rifle. B. was already doing his job.
"He's 450 out and moving, one down one left." M. centered his cross heir on the gunner and then moved to to the left. One dot left one down.. He pulled the trigger and watched the insurgent stumble and drop as the round hit him. Before he looked away another round impacted a foot away from him as the sniper took another shot. "I see him!" B. said with excitement. "Top floor, 5th window from the right!" M. scanned over and sure enough there he was. He put his cross heir on the sniper and pulled. The rifle kicked and the sniper died. Before B. could even report the kill a burst from a machine gun came in. It sounded like an PKD and rounds were landing all around him. It wasn't hard to find the gunner though, and M. dropped him quickly. Hopefully he was the last man. M. relaxed a little as he heard B..
"Uh.. Dude.. I think you should see this." He was obviously worried. It couldn't be good. M. looked over where his spotter was pointing. The alleyway leading down to the marketplace was filled with men coming towards them. But they weren't just moving in a mob. They were staying low, keeping security, moving tactfully, and watching their target. They were trained. M. picked up his binoculars for a closer look at the group. Kalashnikov's were in their hands, and extra magazines were stuffed in wherever they could get them. They were outfitted for a fight. Much more of a fight than either B. or M. were ready for. M. didn't say anything but reached for the handmic.
"Regulator X-Ray, this is Lightning Viper. Target one killed, but we have a situation."
"Viper, this is X-Ray, whats up?"
"We've already taken sniper, RPG, and machine gun fire on our position. Now we have a lot of gunmen advancing on the building, over."
"Roger viper, how many gunmen do you estimate?"
"30"
"13?" X-Ray didn't think 30 could be correct.
"No, dammit, 30"
"13?" X-Ray was still unsure, Moore was getting mad.
"NO! 30! 3-0!"
"Roger, 30 insurgents advancing on your location?"
"Yes, dammit! 30 of them, we're not in any position for a big fight here, call in Renegade and get birds in the air now. We're also requesting QRF."
"Roger, Viper we'll get them up and running, hold." Moore waited on the radio impatiently as rounds started to hit the walls. More RPG, and Machine Gun fire was coming in from the right building now, and X-Ray was sitting on it's ass.
"Viper, this is X-Ray." they finally said
"Roger, go ahead."
"We got birds on the way, it'll be about 20-30 minutes. QRF is held up on something else though, you'll have to hang on till the birds arrive." M. was angry and quiet.
"Roger. Out." He slammed down the radio and picked up his rifle. B. didn't have to say anything, he knew what was going on. He Started calling out shots to his shooter. At the same time he was trying to engage enemies closing in on the house. He didn't have any clear shot, the men advancing were using good cover, making them harder to hit. He tried to just slow them down while Moore shot the men in the buildings around them.
"RPG, 610, at your 11... He's down.. Sniper 610, 11, 4th story.... Machine Gun 450 2, top floor... Another sniper top floor, last window to left..." B. could tell his shooter was being overwhelmed by the targets. He fired several 203 rounds into the houses, nailing each target dead on. He didn't know if he killed the men inside, but at least he rattled them enough to get them to move.
At the same time grenades were being thrown up and onto the roof while the enemies got closer. Both M. and B. threw most of them back. They estimated roughly thirty of them were thrown, but less than 10 exploded. Two managed to go off on the roof, but other then minor shrapnel the two were unhurt. While B. reloaded a magazine he noticed some more men advancing from the clearing in which they landed. There wasn't as many as the other group, but it was enough. He fired into the crowd, but it was too late. They had enough cover to be protected, so he didn't do as much damage as he hoped. He was able to kill three insurgents before being forced to turn back to his shooter, and the 30 men that had stared to storm the house.
M. reloaded his M24 and set the rifle down next to him. He engaged over twenty enemies from the surrounding buildings before the fire had stopped coming from those directions, meaning he probably took most, if not all of them out. Now his problem was the men that were now in the building below them. He picked up his M4 and drew a bead on the door that lead into the house. If the enemy decided to attempt to rush them, they would be ready. They could hear talking coming from inside the house. Sounded like a speech. No doubt someone in charge was telling them how they were going to storm the two Americans upstairs and kill them in cold blood. There was a cheer and M. knew that they were on their way up. He looked over to B. who was aimed at the door not moving. As he turned back towards the door, he saw insurgents start to burst through it. In a hail of fire him and his spotter started firing all they had into the mass of bodies being hurled at them. If anything it reminded him of some weird WWII Japanese attack. Almost Kamikaze in a way.
"Reloading!" B. shrieked over the gunfire. The crack of the AK deafened him more so than the familiar pop of his rifle. He had forgotten to put earplugs in.. It would be the last time he told himself.
Suddenly M. felt something slam into him and his chest burst out in pain as he jumped from the force. Oh my God! he thought to himself.. I'm hit! he felt another round hit his stomach, followed quickly by one more in his chest again. Hit! 3 times! Oh God, I'm going to die if I don't do something!... He looked down at himself, but there was nothing. The rounds, although painful didn't break through his vest. Other then the dull pain of what felt like a baseball bat to the chest and stomach, he was unhurt. Moore picked up his rifle, more determined than ever and started shooting like a madman. It wasn't long before he heard a cry of pain from B.. His spotter was now bleeding from his arm, his ACU's slowly turning a dark red. Good thing it's dark red M. thought.. If it was light it could be arterial. M. looked down at his own arm, and saw that he was bleeding too.. But from when? He didn't know, nor did he care. What was important was that he was hit, but it was minor. His leg was bleeding too, but it didn't hurt him bad enough to take his attention.
It wasn't long before the two shot up the last of the 5.56 ammunition. M. had started engaging close targets with his M24, but he didn't bring many rounds and was empty soon after. With their 9MM pistols drawn they were ready to make one last stand. M. was the first one to go black on ammo, but by that point the fighting had almost stopped. Maybe they had killed them all.. He didn't know. It wasn't long before his question was answered as three more insurgents came up into view. These three were a little more tactical in the sense they were using cover. However B. still made waste to them before running out on ammo as well. The two snipers were down out of ammo, and had no idea how many enemies they had with them. They sat in silence for what felt like forever, both unsure what to do. B. broke the silence first as he drew out the KABAR he received upon the graduation of Sniper School.
"Well, I'm not sure about you, but I'm not looking forward to getting tortured and killed on TV..."
"I'll throw dirt if I have to, but they wont take me without a fight... Hopefully they'll be forced to kill me." M. replied drawing out his own KABAR. He tried to hide the fear in his voice, but he knew that B. could tell. It didn't matter to B. anyway, as he watched his hand shake as it gripped the combat knife tightly. He looked over at his partner, to see him looking at a picture of his wife. A tear rolled down M.'s cheek and hit the weathered picture. The man didn't want to die, he was still young, and was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with his wife. B. looked down and thought about his own girlfriend. What would she think of this? How the hell is Colin's wife going to deal with this? Our parents? Jesus, we're about to die here. 8,000 miles from home on a desert roof...
M. put the picture of his wife back in his pocket and took out his pack of Miami Cigarette's for one last smoke. He got ready to light up, before stopping to think about it. He threw the cheap Iraqi cigarettes down. "If we're going to die, my last smoke isn't going to be this fucking Haji shit." he said reaching into his pocket to grab his metal cigarette case. Inside were two Marlboro Reds. They were the last cigarettes from his last pack before he left the states. Him and B. were planning on smoking them right before going back home. But now it seemed like they were at the end of the line. He passed on to his friend and they both lit up, and as M. smoked he thought about what was going on downstairs. Surely they would be coming up sometime soon. It had been a few minutes already, so what was taking them so long? They could have come up and killed them already. He decided when they did come, he would charge them with his knife. He knew B. would follow suit. The noise from downstairs settled and he figured they would be coming upstairs any second now. He could hear choppers off in the distance, but it didn't matter. There's no way that they could arive in time. He braced himself for what was sure to be his last fight..
But it didn't come. They remained downstairs and the sound of helicopters grew increasingly louder. Then from nowhere two Kiowa's came flying over the building low. Two Apache's came in right behind them. They broke left and he heard the sound of hellfire missiles being shot into a street next to them. A Black Hawk came flying in low. Very low, and slow. He remembered the radio and picked it up.
"Lightning Viper, Lightning Viper, This is Peace Keeper 1-3, do you copy, Over?"
"Peace Keeper 1-3. this is Viper, I got you." He said back.
"Jesus, M., scare me half to death will ya? Get your shit and jump in while I do a pass over. We have to make this go fast, Renegade birds are itching to level the house with hellfire's."
"Roger, Viper out." M. said, picking up his rifles. B. grabbed the spotting scope, and followed M. as he ran to the middle of the roof. The Black Hawk came in low, and slow, and they both jumped in and quickly threw on their headsets. "We're up!" M. yelled in as the pilot started to pick up speed and altitude. He took a sharp right, away from the building.
"I got targets here with RPG's and AK's!" his gunner shouted as he started shooting. B. and M. both looked with awe as the Mini gun tore into the targets below. Hellfire missiles impacted on the house and it went up in a cloud of dust and debris. If anyone was inside, they were dead now,.
"M., I've flown you and B. to damn near every one of your OP's." CW5 A. said. "You guys try to pull another stunt like this, and I'm going to be pissed. I like y'all, don't go dying on me now." M. couldn't do anything but laugh as he watched the ground below him blur together.
When they landed, they were greeted by LtCol. P. as he shook their hands. "Impressive work, gentlemen. That may just be the largest fight this year. You guys may have just made history. I'm not sure how big you guys realize this is. It's huge."
"Quite frankly, sir, I'm not sure we want to know." B. replied. "It's just a job."
"You don't understand." The officer said again. "Do you think I come down here to meet everybody who went out on patrol, or made contact?"
"No." M. said, "So what did we do that was so amazing?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked, Corporal." P. said with a grin. "What it looks like to me, is two snipers made contact with overwhelming odds, both suffered injuries, and both did their duty to engage and destroy an enemy that tried to throw everything they had at them. Now, I'm not sure on the numbers, but we were watching with a UAV. If I counted right, you guys killed over 50 men. Maybe even over 60. The Choppers killed several too, meaning you were probably being engaged by over 70 men. 70 fucking men, against two. They weren't stupid or ill equip either. 70 trained men, against two. If that doesn't send a fucking message I don't know what will."
"Well sir," M. said as medics started to cut away at his pant legs and jacket "Let me know what the count is, I'm sure the outside world will be very interested."
"Oh, they might not give a shit about how many you killed, or the fact that you were wounded. But I think they'll care about Purple Hearts, and other Medals. I'm putting you guys in for some. Bronze star with Valor at the least."
"Sir, really that isn't.."
"Horse shit, guys have gotten more for less. You deserve it. You deserve some time off, some R&R. I'm giving you two the hook-up. Get patched up, call home, and get some rest. Tomorrow come by the TOC and we'll talk some more."
"Yes, sir." was all M. said as more medics rushed over to get him inside the CSH. B. was already on his way in. M. didn't even care anymore, he just felt like calling home and getting some sleep. The sooner they were done here the sooner they could get it. I hope we don't have commo black-out now. he thought.
- Written by SPC B---rs, with help from CPL M----e
Here's a quick run down, of the official documentation.. Sensitive parts like the grid was removed. The grid in the story was also changed.
Time: 1130
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Friendly Forces: 2 Snipers; CPL M---e, PFC B---s.
Call sign: Lightning Viper
Enemy Forces: 70+ Wahdy Insurgents
Weapon Systems: 1 M24+ 90 7.62X51 M82
2 M4s + 420 5.56
2 M203 + 20 40MM Grenades
2 M9 + 60 9MM
Enemy: 4 Snipers, 10 Machine Guns, 10 RPGs, 46 AKs
Estimated Enemy Dead: 69
Estimated Friendly Wounded: Unknown
Friendly Dead: 0
Friendly Wounded: 2
Rewards: Both Snipers received the Purple Heart for the injuries they sustained during the 40 minute fight.
-PFC B---s received the Bronze Star with Valor Device for his actions accurately reporting targets, plus engaging and killing an estimated 25 Insurgents.
-CPL M---e received the Silver Star for his actions engaging enemies at far range with the M24 Sniper System, and killing and estimated 34 Insurgents. His efforts also kept the two snipers together during the fight, and his level head helped him make accurate reports to higher command in the rear, also good decisions during the fight to better position himself, and his spotter to be both in a safe and lethal position.
-Both men were ready to engage the enemy in hand to hand combat rather then be caught and taken captive alive.
-These men showed an outstanding display of courage, disregard to personal safety, and heroism, and uphold all standards of the United States Army.
-Together CPL M---e and PFC B---s are credited to a total of 82 shared kills from being in country for a total of 47 days.
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Corporal M. checked his rifle over for the third time in ten minutes. He was always re-checking his gear before mission, and this time was no different.
"Calm down, Colin" his spotter said looking up at him "We've done this 50 times by now man, you're good. Trust me, we're both good."
"Yeah I know man, I'm not worried, it's just a nice idea to be sure I'm good to go. I don't think my wife will be too pleased if I come home in a box because my rifle didn't fire." was his response. They have had this discussion before, and would undoubtedly have it again. It was almost as daily as his PCC's. But for now the young corporal was done. He looked down at the city below him. People were just going by their daily business. A few Humvee's were roaming the streets, but nothing big was happening. Kids were running around the playground. Moore laughed a little as he thought to himself.. It's a war, and kids are out on the swing set.
"Two Minutes, Corporal." the headset crackled as the pilot Cheif Warrent Officer A. announced their progress. They were two minutes out. Two minutes from a boring day trying to pass time and falling victim to countless hours of boredom, till it was time to take their shot. They had come in contact before, but nothing big had really happened. Raids were fun for the first few times, then they became stale and repetitive. Kick in the door, yell at everyone to get down, search the house, come up dry, say sorry and leave. Of course there were a few exceptions in which they stormed a house and made contact. There were those days where RPG's were flying overhead and the enemy was hard charging and up to fight. But most days it was the same. A sniper set one day, and driving down the street waiting to get blown up another. A friend back home asked him about the IED's. He asked how many they find. His response was quick as he shot back
"We find every IED we encounter." He knew what he had gotten into already and waited for the follow up.
"So how do you find them?"
"They blow us up." The conversation had ended there.
"30 Seconds, M." the radio said. M. cursed himself for spacing out, he should be watching the streets below. It's always good to at least get a little bit of a view of the area they would be in. Just in case shit hit the fan, they could make a fast retreat and would have a least a basic idea on which ways were crowded or blocked off. His spotter, Private First Class, Logan B. was spacing out as usual. Probably dreaming about beer. Or maybe home. Probably beer.
"Alright gentlemen" he heard "We've arrived at our final destination. It's time for you to get the fuck out my bird, and please, put your seats in the upright and locked positions. Thank you for flying Peace Keeper 1-3 airlines." M. and B. jumped out quickly and started to move away from the Black Hawk so they could be clear to leave. The longer they were there the more attention they would receive.
The two snipers ran out of their little clearing and into the urban jungle that they would make their fortress. They needed a high building with a good view to see their target. An arms dealer that was driving around the market place dealing out of his trunk. The man was smart in not having one location, it was hard to track him. And with a security detail of over 200 men, he could put up a fight if you wanted to try to take him head on. He fielded a powerful arsenal of grenades, rockets, snipers, machine guns, and AK-47s stockpiled throughout the city. His men could be notified and fighting in less than 15 minutes time. He was a tricky bastard, and thought he was well protected. But not this time, because now he was about to deal with an enemy that was ready to sneak in and kill him from over half a kilometer away. He'd be long dead, and they would be on their way to the extraction point before the people around him heard the shot. If they worked fast enough anyway. Which they would. They had come close before but he slipped away. This time there would be no mistakes. Unfortunately they couldn't get a high building. For some reason, command told them to go on a certain building. It was the first time they had ordered them to do so, and neither men liked the idea. But they had to do what they were ordered.
"Logan, give me ranged on those buildings up there, the marketplace, and the clearing behind us." M. said as he started setting up the spotting scope and rifle.
"Left building 600 meters, Right 450 clearing 750, marketplace 550, and that bridge beyond the clearing, 900.." B. replied shortly after. M. was on the radio talking to X-Ray
"Regulator X-Ray this is Lightning Viper, set at Location Alpha, Grid follows, break" he said into the mic "Grid: Sierra Victor, Two-Two-Five..Two-Nine-Three, how copy, over"
"Viper out" he said again. No doubt X-Ray told him they got the grid and good luck. Just like every time.
M. picked up his M24 sniper rifle and placed the butt stock into his shoulder and started to look at the area. Bowers was scanning with his 20X M49 spotting scope. It was a little old, but Bowers had always preferred it. His dad, a Marine Scout Sniper, had used the very same spotting scope in Desert Storm. Now Bowers continued it's use in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Maybe his son would join the Military and become a sniper. Then he could use the spotting scope in whatever war he fought in. His dad had always asked about the M24, which was the Army's answer to the M40 that his father used during the Gulf War, but there wasn't much differences in the two. They both shot out to about the same distance, both were 7.62, and bolt action. B. wasn't as much of a fan of the M24 as his shooter was. He loved the M107 personally. Something about a .50 Caliber sniper rifle just made him giggle like a school girl whenever M. brought it out. They could punch that beast out to over two kilometers away. The raw power of the rifle was something that everyone would always awe over. He almost felt like a celebrity whenever he came back onto the FOB, walking in with their assault rifles and two, sometimes three, sniper rifles. They were outsiders in the area, Scout Snipers in the 3rd ACR attached to the 10th Mountain Division. The rest of their unit were back in the states still. They weren't supposed to deploy for another two months, and when they did deploy he would have to start his 15 month tour with them. After spending 4 months in Iraq already. Everyone else was on leave, and getting ready to deploy. Half days, and 4 day weekends, Friday BBQ's and platoon parties. He could be home in Indiana with his family this weekend, but instead he was sitting on a low building looking through a twenty powered scope waiting for some guy to come and do his business. The bastard might not even show up, half the time they get Intel it's bad. He scanned to the left and down a little bit. There was a bunch of kids walking towards them. He looked away and pulled out the binoculars, they were closing in fairly fast, but were looking around for something.
"Colin, I got some kids coming in man. They're looking for something it seems."
"They're probably looking for us. These guys heard the chopper come in, so instead of searching for us themselves and risking getting shot, they're sending a bunch of kids to find us."
"You think they'll find us?"
"Oh I know they will."
"Then what do we do?"
"Hope that our guy shows up before the guns do."
"Great.." B. wasn't exactly looking forward to a big fight. Hopefully they'll be out of here soon. He scanned back out to the marketplace just as a car came up. He looked down at the notes he scribbled earlier. "Black BMW, windows tinted." he had written. So the guy was working out of a black BMW, easy enough. At least it wasn't a white car, or pick-up. He could count 50 of those in a matter of seconds. He went back to the car, sure enough it was black with tinted windows. Looked about like a BMW. He looked over at the kids again, they were gone. Then back at the car as the doors started to open.
"I think we got our man."
"I see him, wait for PID." M. picked up the picture they had of the man and looked back into his Leupold 3 1/2 to 10 X scope. Then back at the picture, then through his scope again. "Yep that's him alright. Hit me brother." B. was already scirbbling down notes and looking through his Laser Range Finder.
"Barometric pressure at 30.5, humidity: 83 percent, temperature: 117°... He's 560 meters out.. elevation: five up, 1.5 minutes of angle, wind: 13 mph from two o'clock, deflection: three minutes of angle right and add .5 for spin drift." A few seconds went by as M. dialed in his adjustments. His Leupold had the 1/4 minute adjustments in elevation so he could pretty much zero it to a gnats eye lash if he wanted too. And he did.. He always wanted to make the first shot count. One shot one kill. Then they could get out of there.
"Ready when you are." he said calmly. B. got into his spotting scope and got ready to watch the vapor trail in case M. missed. He hardly missed, but you never knew.
"Punch that shit."
M. took a deep breath and held it as he slowly started to pull back on the trigger. It was set to three pounds, just the way he liked it. There was no detectable trigger movement, but he knew when it would fire. He couldn't hear what was going on around him. He blocked out everything around him. There was nothing but him and the coming shot. The trigger would break smoothly without follow through... He continued to squeeze and the rifle slammed into his shoulder as the muzzle rose just enough from the recoil to loose his target. M. held through the recoil however and the scope dropped back into place. He saw the bullet slam into the arms dealer. His head burst and he fell behind the car, dropping the rifle he was getting ready to sell. His buyer started running fast, not wanting to be the next target for the riflemen over 550 meters away.
"Right in the head, nice shot." B. said.
"Lets pack this shit up, I'm calling up X-Ray for extraction." M. reached for the radio just as the ground in front of his face exploded. Dirt and little pieces of the roof hit his face as the familiar crack of a Dragunov sniper rifle shot reached his ears.
"Sniper!" He heard B.s yell as he was diving for cover. Moore was moving too, before even realizing it. "They shot came from the right, he has to be in those buildings somewhere. I have no clue where though. Any Ideas?" B. yelled trying to figure out away to look.
"I got nothing man, there's too many fucking rooms in there.. I'm trying to see if I see anything, but I got nothing yet." Just as his finished his sentence he heard the whine of an an RPG and looked up to see the rocket flying towards them. Maybe two feet overhead the rocket flew and exploded on the other side of the roof. Shrapnel and concrete flew as M. tried find the gunner. He saw a figure on the roof running and he picked up his rifle. B. was already doing his job.
"He's 450 out and moving, one down one left." M. centered his cross heir on the gunner and then moved to to the left. One dot left one down.. He pulled the trigger and watched the insurgent stumble and drop as the round hit him. Before he looked away another round impacted a foot away from him as the sniper took another shot. "I see him!" B. said with excitement. "Top floor, 5th window from the right!" M. scanned over and sure enough there he was. He put his cross heir on the sniper and pulled. The rifle kicked and the sniper died. Before B. could even report the kill a burst from a machine gun came in. It sounded like an PKD and rounds were landing all around him. It wasn't hard to find the gunner though, and M. dropped him quickly. Hopefully he was the last man. M. relaxed a little as he heard B..
"Uh.. Dude.. I think you should see this." He was obviously worried. It couldn't be good. M. looked over where his spotter was pointing. The alleyway leading down to the marketplace was filled with men coming towards them. But they weren't just moving in a mob. They were staying low, keeping security, moving tactfully, and watching their target. They were trained. M. picked up his binoculars for a closer look at the group. Kalashnikov's were in their hands, and extra magazines were stuffed in wherever they could get them. They were outfitted for a fight. Much more of a fight than either B. or M. were ready for. M. didn't say anything but reached for the handmic.
"Regulator X-Ray, this is Lightning Viper. Target one killed, but we have a situation."
"Viper, this is X-Ray, whats up?"
"We've already taken sniper, RPG, and machine gun fire on our position. Now we have a lot of gunmen advancing on the building, over."
"Roger viper, how many gunmen do you estimate?"
"30"
"13?" X-Ray didn't think 30 could be correct.
"No, dammit, 30"
"13?" X-Ray was still unsure, Moore was getting mad.
"NO! 30! 3-0!"
"Roger, 30 insurgents advancing on your location?"
"Yes, dammit! 30 of them, we're not in any position for a big fight here, call in Renegade and get birds in the air now. We're also requesting QRF."
"Roger, Viper we'll get them up and running, hold." Moore waited on the radio impatiently as rounds started to hit the walls. More RPG, and Machine Gun fire was coming in from the right building now, and X-Ray was sitting on it's ass.
"Viper, this is X-Ray." they finally said
"Roger, go ahead."
"We got birds on the way, it'll be about 20-30 minutes. QRF is held up on something else though, you'll have to hang on till the birds arrive." M. was angry and quiet.
"Roger. Out." He slammed down the radio and picked up his rifle. B. didn't have to say anything, he knew what was going on. He Started calling out shots to his shooter. At the same time he was trying to engage enemies closing in on the house. He didn't have any clear shot, the men advancing were using good cover, making them harder to hit. He tried to just slow them down while Moore shot the men in the buildings around them.
"RPG, 610, at your 11... He's down.. Sniper 610, 11, 4th story.... Machine Gun 450 2, top floor... Another sniper top floor, last window to left..." B. could tell his shooter was being overwhelmed by the targets. He fired several 203 rounds into the houses, nailing each target dead on. He didn't know if he killed the men inside, but at least he rattled them enough to get them to move.
At the same time grenades were being thrown up and onto the roof while the enemies got closer. Both M. and B. threw most of them back. They estimated roughly thirty of them were thrown, but less than 10 exploded. Two managed to go off on the roof, but other then minor shrapnel the two were unhurt. While B. reloaded a magazine he noticed some more men advancing from the clearing in which they landed. There wasn't as many as the other group, but it was enough. He fired into the crowd, but it was too late. They had enough cover to be protected, so he didn't do as much damage as he hoped. He was able to kill three insurgents before being forced to turn back to his shooter, and the 30 men that had stared to storm the house.
M. reloaded his M24 and set the rifle down next to him. He engaged over twenty enemies from the surrounding buildings before the fire had stopped coming from those directions, meaning he probably took most, if not all of them out. Now his problem was the men that were now in the building below them. He picked up his M4 and drew a bead on the door that lead into the house. If the enemy decided to attempt to rush them, they would be ready. They could hear talking coming from inside the house. Sounded like a speech. No doubt someone in charge was telling them how they were going to storm the two Americans upstairs and kill them in cold blood. There was a cheer and M. knew that they were on their way up. He looked over to B. who was aimed at the door not moving. As he turned back towards the door, he saw insurgents start to burst through it. In a hail of fire him and his spotter started firing all they had into the mass of bodies being hurled at them. If anything it reminded him of some weird WWII Japanese attack. Almost Kamikaze in a way.
"Reloading!" B. shrieked over the gunfire. The crack of the AK deafened him more so than the familiar pop of his rifle. He had forgotten to put earplugs in.. It would be the last time he told himself.
Suddenly M. felt something slam into him and his chest burst out in pain as he jumped from the force. Oh my God! he thought to himself.. I'm hit! he felt another round hit his stomach, followed quickly by one more in his chest again. Hit! 3 times! Oh God, I'm going to die if I don't do something!... He looked down at himself, but there was nothing. The rounds, although painful didn't break through his vest. Other then the dull pain of what felt like a baseball bat to the chest and stomach, he was unhurt. Moore picked up his rifle, more determined than ever and started shooting like a madman. It wasn't long before he heard a cry of pain from B.. His spotter was now bleeding from his arm, his ACU's slowly turning a dark red. Good thing it's dark red M. thought.. If it was light it could be arterial. M. looked down at his own arm, and saw that he was bleeding too.. But from when? He didn't know, nor did he care. What was important was that he was hit, but it was minor. His leg was bleeding too, but it didn't hurt him bad enough to take his attention.
It wasn't long before the two shot up the last of the 5.56 ammunition. M. had started engaging close targets with his M24, but he didn't bring many rounds and was empty soon after. With their 9MM pistols drawn they were ready to make one last stand. M. was the first one to go black on ammo, but by that point the fighting had almost stopped. Maybe they had killed them all.. He didn't know. It wasn't long before his question was answered as three more insurgents came up into view. These three were a little more tactical in the sense they were using cover. However B. still made waste to them before running out on ammo as well. The two snipers were down out of ammo, and had no idea how many enemies they had with them. They sat in silence for what felt like forever, both unsure what to do. B. broke the silence first as he drew out the KABAR he received upon the graduation of Sniper School.
"Well, I'm not sure about you, but I'm not looking forward to getting tortured and killed on TV..."
"I'll throw dirt if I have to, but they wont take me without a fight... Hopefully they'll be forced to kill me." M. replied drawing out his own KABAR. He tried to hide the fear in his voice, but he knew that B. could tell. It didn't matter to B. anyway, as he watched his hand shake as it gripped the combat knife tightly. He looked over at his partner, to see him looking at a picture of his wife. A tear rolled down M.'s cheek and hit the weathered picture. The man didn't want to die, he was still young, and was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with his wife. B. looked down and thought about his own girlfriend. What would she think of this? How the hell is Colin's wife going to deal with this? Our parents? Jesus, we're about to die here. 8,000 miles from home on a desert roof...
M. put the picture of his wife back in his pocket and took out his pack of Miami Cigarette's for one last smoke. He got ready to light up, before stopping to think about it. He threw the cheap Iraqi cigarettes down. "If we're going to die, my last smoke isn't going to be this fucking Haji shit." he said reaching into his pocket to grab his metal cigarette case. Inside were two Marlboro Reds. They were the last cigarettes from his last pack before he left the states. Him and B. were planning on smoking them right before going back home. But now it seemed like they were at the end of the line. He passed on to his friend and they both lit up, and as M. smoked he thought about what was going on downstairs. Surely they would be coming up sometime soon. It had been a few minutes already, so what was taking them so long? They could have come up and killed them already. He decided when they did come, he would charge them with his knife. He knew B. would follow suit. The noise from downstairs settled and he figured they would be coming upstairs any second now. He could hear choppers off in the distance, but it didn't matter. There's no way that they could arive in time. He braced himself for what was sure to be his last fight..
But it didn't come. They remained downstairs and the sound of helicopters grew increasingly louder. Then from nowhere two Kiowa's came flying over the building low. Two Apache's came in right behind them. They broke left and he heard the sound of hellfire missiles being shot into a street next to them. A Black Hawk came flying in low. Very low, and slow. He remembered the radio and picked it up.
"Lightning Viper, Lightning Viper, This is Peace Keeper 1-3, do you copy, Over?"
"Peace Keeper 1-3. this is Viper, I got you." He said back.
"Jesus, M., scare me half to death will ya? Get your shit and jump in while I do a pass over. We have to make this go fast, Renegade birds are itching to level the house with hellfire's."
"Roger, Viper out." M. said, picking up his rifles. B. grabbed the spotting scope, and followed M. as he ran to the middle of the roof. The Black Hawk came in low, and slow, and they both jumped in and quickly threw on their headsets. "We're up!" M. yelled in as the pilot started to pick up speed and altitude. He took a sharp right, away from the building.
"I got targets here with RPG's and AK's!" his gunner shouted as he started shooting. B. and M. both looked with awe as the Mini gun tore into the targets below. Hellfire missiles impacted on the house and it went up in a cloud of dust and debris. If anyone was inside, they were dead now,.
"M., I've flown you and B. to damn near every one of your OP's." CW5 A. said. "You guys try to pull another stunt like this, and I'm going to be pissed. I like y'all, don't go dying on me now." M. couldn't do anything but laugh as he watched the ground below him blur together.
When they landed, they were greeted by LtCol. P. as he shook their hands. "Impressive work, gentlemen. That may just be the largest fight this year. You guys may have just made history. I'm not sure how big you guys realize this is. It's huge."
"Quite frankly, sir, I'm not sure we want to know." B. replied. "It's just a job."
"You don't understand." The officer said again. "Do you think I come down here to meet everybody who went out on patrol, or made contact?"
"No." M. said, "So what did we do that was so amazing?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked, Corporal." P. said with a grin. "What it looks like to me, is two snipers made contact with overwhelming odds, both suffered injuries, and both did their duty to engage and destroy an enemy that tried to throw everything they had at them. Now, I'm not sure on the numbers, but we were watching with a UAV. If I counted right, you guys killed over 50 men. Maybe even over 60. The Choppers killed several too, meaning you were probably being engaged by over 70 men. 70 fucking men, against two. They weren't stupid or ill equip either. 70 trained men, against two. If that doesn't send a fucking message I don't know what will."
"Well sir," M. said as medics started to cut away at his pant legs and jacket "Let me know what the count is, I'm sure the outside world will be very interested."
"Oh, they might not give a shit about how many you killed, or the fact that you were wounded. But I think they'll care about Purple Hearts, and other Medals. I'm putting you guys in for some. Bronze star with Valor at the least."
"Sir, really that isn't.."
"Horse shit, guys have gotten more for less. You deserve it. You deserve some time off, some R&R. I'm giving you two the hook-up. Get patched up, call home, and get some rest. Tomorrow come by the TOC and we'll talk some more."
"Yes, sir." was all M. said as more medics rushed over to get him inside the CSH. B. was already on his way in. M. didn't even care anymore, he just felt like calling home and getting some sleep. The sooner they were done here the sooner they could get it. I hope we don't have commo black-out now. he thought.
- Written by SPC B---rs, with help from CPL M----e
Here's a quick run down, of the official documentation.. Sensitive parts like the grid was removed. The grid in the story was also changed.
Time: 1130
Date: September 6th 2007
Location: Baghdad, Iraq
Friendly Forces: 2 Snipers; CPL M---e, PFC B---s.
Call sign: Lightning Viper
Enemy Forces: 70+ Wahdy Insurgents
Weapon Systems: 1 M24+ 90 7.62X51 M82
2 M4s + 420 5.56
2 M203 + 20 40MM Grenades
2 M9 + 60 9MM
Enemy: 4 Snipers, 10 Machine Guns, 10 RPGs, 46 AKs
Estimated Enemy Dead: 69
Estimated Friendly Wounded: Unknown
Friendly Dead: 0
Friendly Wounded: 2
Rewards: Both Snipers received the Purple Heart for the injuries they sustained during the 40 minute fight.
-PFC B---s received the Bronze Star with Valor Device for his actions accurately reporting targets, plus engaging and killing an estimated 25 Insurgents.
-CPL M---e received the Silver Star for his actions engaging enemies at far range with the M24 Sniper System, and killing and estimated 34 Insurgents. His efforts also kept the two snipers together during the fight, and his level head helped him make accurate reports to higher command in the rear, also good decisions during the fight to better position himself, and his spotter to be both in a safe and lethal position.
-Both men were ready to engage the enemy in hand to hand combat rather then be caught and taken captive alive.
-These men showed an outstanding display of courage, disregard to personal safety, and heroism, and uphold all standards of the United States Army.
-Together CPL M---e and PFC B---s are credited to a total of 82 shared kills from being in country for a total of 47 days.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The Greatest Accolade Ever ! whoops... PART ll
Remember this The Greatest Accolade Ever ! whoops... http://normanhooben.blogspot.com/2008/08/greatest-accolade-ever-whoops.html Sit back an enjoy Part ll
Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick to Resign in Plea Deal
Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick to Resign in Plea Deal
Thursday, September 04, 2008
AP Sept. 2, 2008
Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick sits in Wayne County Circuit Judge David Groner's courtroom during a hearing on the mayor's bond in Detroit.
Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick will step down as the mayor of the nation's 11th-largest city, the Wall Street Journal reports, as part of a plea deal with prosecutors in a sex-and-misconduct scandal.
The Wall Street Journal reports Kilpatrick will resign, plead guilty to two felonies, spend four months in jail and pay the city of Detroit $1 million.
Click here to read more at the Wall Street Journal.
Kilpatrick entered a Detroit courtroom Thursday morning and met with his attorneys in a side room off Wayne County Circuit Court Judge David Groner's courtroom, the Detroit Free Press reported.
Before meeting with attorneys, he told journalists their reports were wrong and they needed to check their sources, the Free Press said.
Click here to read the Free Press' report.
The Wayne County prosecutor's office, which has charged Kilpatrick with eight felonies in the perjury case, said the plea would take place during a scheduled docket conference before Groner Thursday morning. A hearing late Wednesday afternoon was abruptly canceled.
Kilpatrick spokesman Chris Garrett confirmed negotiations toward a plea were continuing late Wednesday.
It was "apparent that they are close," Kilpatrick attorney James Thomas said late Wednesday, adding that he was unsure if the deal being negotiated included any jail time for the mayor.
The announcement of a deal by the prosecutor's office sent reporters rushing from an extraordinary hearing Wednesday in which Gov. Jennifer Granholm is tasked with deciding if Kilpatrick should be removed from office for misconduct for his role in an $8.4 million whistle-blowers' settlement.
The governor's spokeswoman, Liz Boyd, said the removal hearing's second day would resume Thursday, an hour after Kilpatrick's appearance ends in Wayne County Circuit Court. A deal to resign would make Granholm's role moot.
The City Council has asked Granholm to use her constitutional authority to expel Kilpatrick for misconduct, saying it was misled when it approved the settlement last year with fired police officers.
Council members said they didn't know the deal carried secret provisions to keep a lid on steamy text messages between Kilpatrick and Christine Beatty, who was his chief of staff, on city-issued pagers.
Those messages, published by the Detroit Free Press in January, contradicted their denials of an extramarital affair when they testified at a trial last year involving the officers. That led Prosecutor Kym Worthy to charge the pair with perjury, conspiracy, misconduct and obstruction of justice.
The mayor would automatically be expelled from office if he is convicted of a felony. Kilpatrick also faces assault charges stemming from a confrontation in July.
Meanwhile, the Michigan attorney general's office, which is prosecuting the mayor on the assault charges, said it has no deal with Kilpatrick to close that case.
"We are ready to proceed to trial," spokesman Rusty Hills said. "These are serious offenses the mayor is charged with that involved officers in the performance of their duty."
News of a possible breakthrough between Kilpatrick and Worthy, after months of political and legal turmoil, overshadowed Granholm's historic hearing on the council's removal request.
Michigan governors are allowed by the state constitution to remove elected officials for misconduct, but the target never has been the leader of the state's largest city. The last time was in 1982, when Gov. William Milliken let a township official stay in office if he stopped drinking.
The mayor's legal team twice failed to persuade courts to stop the hearing Tuesday. Lawyers filed an appeal Wednesday with the Michigan Supreme Court, but there was no response from the justices.
Granholm, a fellow Democrat, has pared the case to two issues: Did Kilpatrick settle the lawsuits for personal gain because he feared release of the text messages? And did the mayor conceal information from the City Council?
A witness, Michael Stefani, an attorney for the three former police officers, said that he quickly settled lawsuits against the city after he told opposing attorneys that he planned to file text messages in court showing an affair between the mayor and Beatty.
Two officers had already won their whistle-blower trial the previous month, but the financial remedy ordered by a jury could have been appealed. Legal fees were unsettled, too.
Kilpatrick's lawyer, Sam McCargo, "looked shaken up" when he saw the messages and said he could call the mayor to pursue a "global resolution" with the officers, according to Stefani.
The assault charges against the mayor stem from a confrontation on his sister's porch. A sheriff's detective says Kilpatrick shoved him into another investigator as they were trying to serve a subpoena to the mayor's friend in the perjury case.
If Kilpatrick is forced from office, City Council President Ken Cockrel Jr. would succeed him until a special election is held.
In case you forgot... (see video below)
America The Beautiful
Hiring Advice - - September 4, 2008 -- Norman E. Hooben
You’re driving down the road just paying attention to your driving and the other traffic around you. You’ve made this trip many times; maybe even every day. You pass many familiar sites and buildings and such; you pay very little attention to these. You go by the gas station, the shopping center, the strip mall and the beauty shop. Would you say that you are complacent to these things? Sure. You could care less. Right?
Now let’s take that last item… the beauty shop. Do you care what’s going on inside there? Most likely, you would not. Somebody you know in there, maybe so. How about if one of the employees was pilfering cash from the cash register? You wouldn’t know…or wouldn’t care. But, a-ha, now you are the owner of that beauty shop. Are you beginning to care? You bet!
Now upon auditing the register and customer slips you find out that, yes indeed, one of your employees (you know, the one you hired) is no longer considered trustworthy and you have to take some drastic measures. Firing the employee may help somewhat but the damage has already been done; you’ve been robbed and you may have been robbed all along.
Here we have a situation whereas you thought you were hiring an upstanding, honest individual because the interview went so well. The prospective employee at the time had an excellent use of the English language and was very convincing. The person sold her/himself with good salesmanship and you bought it (hired the person).
You find out later that if you had only inquired about this person there was ample evidence from other sources (references, prior employers, police, etc.) that this person was truly unreliable. But I see, you really hired the person because she/he was an honor student at Demagoguery Beauty Academy.
Remember now, you are the owner. You are the owner of your country. It is your responsibility to hire honest, upstanding people to work in your beauty shop, America the Beautiful. And you can find ample evidence that Barrack Hussein Obama is untrustworthy, unfaithful, and dishonest to his employer (you). Are you going to wait until the damage has already been done? Or, Are you going to take drastic measures? Fire him now before the damage to America the Beautiful turns ugly. Don’t be complacent with her, she’s your country!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
President Bush, This is your religion of peace!
In The Words Of ‘Undercover Mosque’ Investigator
September 2, 2008
The reporter’s name has been changed. ‘Dispatches: Undercover Mosque - The Return’ will be broadcast on Channel 4 at 8pm on Monday
In a large balcony above the beautiful main hall at Regent’s Park Mosque in London - widely considered the most important mosque in Britain - I am filming undercover as the woman preacher gives her talk.
What should be done to a Muslim who converts to another faith? “We kill him,” she says, “kill him, kill, kill…You have to kill him, you understand?”
Adulterers, she says, are to be stoned to death - and as for homosexuals, and women who “make themselves like a man, a woman like a man … the punishment is kill, kill them, throw them from the highest place”.
These punishments, the preacher says, are to be implemented in a future Islamic state. “This is not to tell you to start killing people,” she continues. “There must be a Muslim leader, when the Muslim army becomes stronger, when Islam has grown enough.”
A young female student from the group interrupts her: the punishment should also be to stone the homosexuals to death, once they have been thrown from a high place.
These are teachings I never expected to hear inside Regent’s Park Mosque, which is supposedly committed to interfaith dialogue and moderation, and was set up more than 60 years ago, to represent British Muslims to the Government. And many of those listening were teenage British girls or, even more disturbingly, young children.
My investigation for Channel 4’s Dispatches came after last year’s Undercover Mosque, which investigated claims that teachings of intolerance and fundamentalism were spreading through Britain’s mosques from the Saudi Arabian religious establishment - which is closely linked to the Saudi Arabian government.
In response, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia denied it was spreading intolerance, while Regent’s Park Mosque, which featured in the film, urged all mosques to be “vigilant” and monitor what was taught on their premises.
So earlier this year, dressed in a full Islamic jilbaab, I went back to Regent’s Park Mosque to see what was being taught there. As a woman, I had to go to the main female section, where I found this circle preaching every Saturday and Sunday, eight hours at a time, to any woman who has come to pray.
The mosque is meant to promote moderation and integration. But although the circle does preach against terrorism and does not incite Muslims to break British laws, it teaches Muslims to “keep away” and segregate themselves from disbelievers: “Islam is keeping away from disbelief and from the disbelievers, the people who disbelieve.”
Friendship with non-Muslims is discouraged because “loyalty is only to the Muslim, not to the kaffir [disbeliever]“.
A woman who was friendly with a non-Muslim woman was heavily criticised: “It’s part of Islam, of the correct belief, that you love those who love Allah and that you hate those who hate Allah.”
One preacher even says Muslims shouldn’t live in Britain at all: “It is not befitting for Muslims that he should reside in the land of evil, the land of the kuffaar, the land of the disbelievers.”
Another, Um Saleem, says Muslims should not take British citizenship as their loyalty is to Allah.
“Some conditions can take you into disbelief, to take the British citizenship, whether you like it or not, for these people, you are selling your religion, it’s a very serious thing, it is not allowed to give allegiance to other than Allah.”
Their teachings shocked me. This was not the Islam that I and many other Muslims in the UK were taught as youngsters, nor is it a version that most Muslims follow.
I was amazed at how many young British women seemed to find this version of the faith attractive. One young girl told me that when she first attended the circle, she was dressed in jeans and that she had many non-Muslim friends. She now loves only those that are around her - “other sisters in the circle” - and only engages with non-Muslims to try to convert them. Many of the sisters had the idea of living as a separate community - a concept alien to me and many other Muslims I know.
Regent’s Park Mosque has a major interfaith department, which arranges visits from the Government, the civil service, representatives of other religions and thousands of British school children a year.
I watched as an interfaith group was brought in to meet the mosque’s women’s circle for a civilised exchange. But when the interfaith group wasn’t there, the preacher attacked other faiths, and the very concept of interfaith dialogue.
One preacher said of Christians praying in a church: “What are these people doing in there, these things are so vile, what they say with their tongues is so vile and disgusting, it’s an abomination.” As for the concept of interfaith live-and-let-live: “This is false. It does not work. This concept is a lie, it is fake, and it is a farce.”
Like many of the other women at the circle, I was soon invited to private sessions in houses around London, to “learn more” about Islam - or their version of Islam. Um Saleem was also at some of these sessions. Here, the women were given strict restrictions on their lives: it is reiterated that British Muslim women cannot travel far without a male guardian, cannot mix with men, and have to remain fully covered up at all times.
One woman in the audience queried the strict rulings that she cannot travel without a mahram - a male member of the family - escorting her. She asked: “Sister, if me and my husband, we can’t go together, what do I do if I want to go?”
She was told she cannot travel by herself.
She asked again: “So what do I do?”
“You go with your husband,” Um Saleem replied.
There were also restrictions on education or work opportunities. One woman, who works for the NHS, was told she should leave her job as it meant mixing with men and not wearing a full Islamic garment.
“You know that working in an environment that is not Islamic, working with the kuffaar, all this takes you away from the religion and hardens your heart and it would be lying to you if I say it’s OK,” Um Saleem explained.
Um Saleem also criticised Muslim women who integrate into society - a view that is counter to the aims of the Regent’s Park Mosque.
“You see Muslims in every sphere of everyday life in this country, I see Muslims, it breaks my heart when I see them working in banks, short sleeves, tight scarf like this, make-up, being with the kuffaar all the time, even speaking their language,” she said.
The director general of Regent’s Park Mosque is Dr Ahmed Al Dubayan, a Saudi diplomat. He has denied to Dispatches that his mosque promotes the Saudi version of the faith, often called Wahhabism. And indeed, the imams in the main hall are Egyptian, and the sermons I heard from them were tolerant and moderate when you listen to them on Fridays.
But the preachers I heard in the women’s section took their theology directly from Saudi Arabia. One of them had recently returned from three years of study in Saudi Arabia, and the other preachers almost exclusively directed me to the works, sermons, fatwas and online sites of the scholars of the Saudi Arabian religious establishment and their adherents.
Confronted with these female preachers’ comments, Dr Al Dubayan insisted that the views did not reflect those of the Regent’s Park Mosque, and that Um Saleem was not an authorised teacher. “The ICC [the London Central Mosque and Islamic Cultural Centre, most commonly referred to as the Regent's Park Mosque] is committed to interfaith and cross-cultural understanding,” he said. “It does not support or condone extreme views, racial hatred, violence or intolerance.”
He said one of the preachers we filmed was unknown to him. Another, Um Saleem, had requested permission to be an authorised teacher at the mosque, but had been refused, as she did not supply references and written information about her teachings and views. Until I contacted him, both he and the mosque had not known of her teachings and views.
Um Saleem later told me that her comments that Muslims could not take British citizenship were “erroneous” and indeed apologised for them. As for comments that Muslims cannot live in a non-Muslim country, she agreed that the language used was “inappropriate”. She continued: “Whilst it is recommended for a Muslim to migrate to a Muslim country, it is not obligatory.”
She added: “We are not blind followers of any government or any ‘clerics’. We do criticise other religions, just as other religions criticise Islam…we encourage integration into society.”
However, she stood by some of her other claims, stating that the rulings that women could not travel alone, and could not work if it conflicted with religious requirements, were “totally justified by Islamic texts”.
“You may regard these juristic and textual rulings as ‘extreme restrictions’,” she said. “But we see them as our way of life and a liberation of the soul.”
The Mosque’s official bookshop was another focus for the Dispatches film last year when our reporters discovered intolerant and fundamentalist DVDs.
Dr Al Dubayan said they would be removed pending an investigation, but I found the same fundamentalist preachers’ works still openly displayed and sold there. DVDs preaching that disbelievers are “evil, wicked, mischievous people … they do the most evil, filthy things”; that men are in charge of women and should control them.
One speaker says of the Jews: “Their time will come, like every other evil person’s time will come.” Another speech, this time by Sheikh Khalid Yasin, who learned Arabic in Saudi Arabia, praised the deterrent effect of sharia law: “Then people can see, people without hands, people can see in public heads rolling down the street, people got [sic] their hands and feet from opposite sides chopped off and they see them crucified…they see people put up against the pole and see them get lashed in public they see it, and because they see it, it acts as a deterrent for them because they say I don’t want that to happen to me.”
Sheikh Yasin responded to me that his comments should be considered in context. He said he did not support or promote Saudi Arabian government policy or religious rhetoric, and said capital punishments were carried out by many states and governments. “The lecture was aimed at reforming the Muslim people, the Muslim society and the Muslim world … to be adjudicated by the Sovereign Islamic State” when one exists.
The company that runs the bookshop, Darussalam International Publications, is a British company with links to Saudi Arabia.
Darussalam International Publications told me that the bookshop sells a wide range of material which they “do not necessarily agree with”.
It said: “We try to represent a variety of… opinions through the products we sell…in order to spread peace, respect, tolerance and understanding.”
Dr Al Dubayan reiterated that the bookshop was run by an independent company. “Despite having no control over the bookshop, we met with those running the bookshop after your programme was broadcast. We made it clear that it was not acceptable for the bookshop to stock materials containing extremist views. We were assured … all offending material had been removed.”
Interviewees for the film explained that an ideology like this has spread throughout Britain’s mosques from the Saudi Arabian religious establishment. One leading Muslim figure told me: “Petrodollar money coming from Saudi Arabia has basically distorted the growth and development of the Muslim community in Britain”; while a British imam accuses them of distorting Islam - “the abuse and misuse of this great faith of mine”.
I share the imam’s outrage at the way a peaceful monotheistic religion - so close to Christianity and Judaism in its essential beliefs - has been hijacked. To hear a call for the killing of someone because of his or her sexuality or for changing their faith in what is meant to be a place of contemplation is truly shocking.
The imam went on to say: “The underlying motive here is to find a way of continuously implanting this permanent wedge between the wider British society and the younger Muslims living in Britain.”
As Professor Anthony Glees, who runs the Centre for Intelligence and Security Studies at Brunel University, explains: “To think, as I believe our government thinks, that it makes ideological sense to play patsy with the Saudi government is folly of the first order of magnitude. We will be paying for it for years to come.”
Cross posted from http://sigmundcarlandalfred.wordpress.com/
Where Have All Our Leaders Gone
Where have all our leaders gone?
Long time passing
Where have all our leaders gone?
Long time ago
Where have our leaders gone?
Islamists have picked them every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
The following cross posted from Right Truth
I thank the men and women of the Muslim community for their contributions to America, says President Bush
From White House.gov:
For Immediate Release
Office of the Press Secretary
August 29, 2008
I send greetings to Muslims observing Ramadan in America and around the globe.
The holy month of Ramadan is a special time of prayer, fasting, and service. For Muslims, these days commemorate the revelation of God's word to the prophet Muhammad in the form of the Qur'an.
I thank the men and women of the Muslim community for their contributions to America. Your love of family, and gratitude to God have strengthened the moral fabric of our country. Our Nation is stronger and more hopeful because of the generosity, talents, and compassion of our Muslim citizens.
Laura and I send our best wishes. Ramadan Mubarak.
GEORGE W. BUSH
Hat tip to Michael who included the following pictures in the email:
QUIZ: What Religion Are They???
1. Task Force Black Kills Hundreds of Al Qaeda Terrorists In Black Ops Campaign.
Answer: Al-Qaeda is MUSLIM.
Answer: Nigerian majority religion is ISLAM.
3. Iran Warns Any Attack Would Start World War.
Answer: Iran is majority MUSLIM.
4. Terrorist, Abdelkader Belliraj,50, Moroccan-born Belgian has been captured: He had quite a resume: accused terrorist kingpin, assassin, gangster, double agent and hotelier, and three dozen suspected members of a network he is accused of arming for a terrorist campaign.
Belliraj’s intrigues over the last quarter of a century chart a singular history of Muslim radicalism, from a meeting with Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini in 1981 to a meal with Osama bin Laden just 10 days before the Sept. 11 attacks. (continue reading)
Answer: Muslim.
Any questions? In President George W. Bush's words, "Thank you Muslims!"
Continued with comments from Storm'n Norm'n
President Bush, "When will you ever learn?"
And there is an anti-American (pro-Muslim) Governor in Pennsylvania (When will he ever learn?):
Monday, September 1, 2008
The Devouring Dragon of Socialism Eating America
If you want to know what the future holds for America, read the following essay. It’s a blueprint that history has established for how once free nations are beguiled into Socialism and then destruction.
Some Americans are recognizing just how precarious we currently find ourselves as a nation, and that this coming election may be the final push into abject Marxism and the dissolution of the Republic itself: “Your Amerika, Not My America.“
America was never meant or intended to be a democracy - we were intended to be the most fragile form of government; a Republic. It was the only kind of government that could preserve and sustain the kind of liberty we were gifted as a nation. Freedom cannot endure in a Democracy and freedom is killed outright in in a Socialist one.
But Americans have been brainwashed into discarding responsibility for hand outs and entitlements. America is far down the road to Socialism and the calls to empower government even larger are deafening. The campaigns for president are nothing but pandering propaganda to institute Socialism. Obama is being worshipped as a messiah by the media and the masses as some kind of political god in the flesh. This is a dangerous mindset that ultimately leads to massive bloodshed in revolutions that take republics to horrific dictatorships.
You’re being lied to America - by the very politicians who promise to be your saviors. Read this essay, it’s the closest thing you have to a real crystal ball if America does not do an abrupt about-face and returns to the roots of our true history and heritage.
“But if the government undertakes to control and to raise wages, and cannot do it; if the government undertakes to care for all who may be in want, and cannot do it; if the government undertakes to support all unemployed workers, and cannot do it; if the government undertakes to lend interest-free money to all borrowers, and cannot do it; if …. ‘The state considers that its purpose is to enlighten, to develop, to enlarge, to strengthen, to spiritualize, and to sanctify the soul of the people’ — and if the government cannot do all of these things, what then? Is it not certain that after every government failure — which, alas! is more than probable — there will be an equally inevitable revolution?”-Frederic Bastiat, “The Law,” June, 1850
It’s been more than 150 years since Frederic Bastiat wrote his treatise, The Law, a small work, challenging the ravages of failing socialism thrust upon France as a result of the French revolution.
In that unique pamphlet, Bastiat points out that when the law of any country supports the moral belief systems of a people, defends the rights of said people and their property, the law is perceived as being moral; a defense against evil and those who flaunt it as being immoral. Payment of taxes and civic obligations are perceived as a virtue and those who flout this as criminals.
However, when the law becomes a source of plunder or pits itself in opposition to the morals of the people, the people perceive the law to be immoral and widely despise it. Indeed, in those times, flouting the law is extolled as virtue.
Another book by contemporary author Hernando Desoto, The Mystery of Capital: Why Capitalism Triumphs in the West and Fails Everywhere Else, points out much the same thing, that the security of ownership of private property guaranteed by law for the lower and middle classes has been the essential ingredient resulting in the prosperity enjoyed by many western countries. Without this security, where the state becomes an impediment to commerce or property ownership, the people are forced to operate their economies outside of law, which is once again perceived as evil, rather than a force for good.
In essence, when a government goes from being a protector of private property to a plunderer of it, it places itself on a course of chaos, economic ruin and its own ultimate self-destruction.
The Three Steps of Socialism
Socialism is the mechanism which transforms government from its noble role as a protector into a predator and, since the citizens of our fine country seem determined to plow through socialism to its bitter end, we should examine the territory through which these three sad steps lead. The core result of socialism is the destruction of private property and wealth.
The events described in this piece are a composite of the ravages of socialism experienced in other countries. While each country does experience all the events portrayed, all socialist countries follow the same miserable path. The U.S. doesn’t have to go down this path, but it seems determines to do so.
We’re Off to See the Wizard
One of the great dangers of any government by the people is that sooner or later their politicians discover they can vote largess from the public trust. Their first experiment at this bold new adventure invariably revolves around social programs enacted in the name of morality and the public good or even solving some current crisis. Who could oppose that? “After all,” it will be argued, “don’t you care about people, or the welfare of the country, or the environment?”
The lure of this argument has been absolutely irresistible from the Roman Empire to the French and Bolshevik revolutions to Socialist Parties (D) and (R) in the USA today.
Step One - The Moral Argument: A Promise of Something for Nothing
The moral argument that we can finally solve poverty, pain, sickness, and hunger with “free” money seems just to good to be true. It usually is but it sells to the public. To fund these allegedly moral programs, the assets of the gentle citizens must be quietly taxed in the name of the public good.
Only a few wise and isolated voices warn that this baby dragon they have just hatched will grow up to be a fire-breathing monster. But not to fear, the wise voices are generally shouted down by the gentle politicians, who fiercely demonize protestors as selfish “whabbledygots” blocking the road to the perfect society. After all, how could something so noble do anything bad to the country?
At first the rich are the only ones asked to pay more of their “fair share.” In the U.S. income tax originally only affected upper-bracket individuals. In this early stage, few complain and everyone seems happy, except for those nagging voices still warning of dire consequences ahead; the ones the gentle legislators wish would just shut up. Other than that they have little to fear because the gentle legislators appear to be heroes placing our feet firmly on the road to utopia. Soon they promise all the have-nots will have and those who do have, will have just a little less. After all, as we said, it’s just their “fair share.”
Ah but time rumbles onward, and the number of people dependent upon these programs swells along with the number of “free” government programs. Free things do sell, and that’s what politicians want to do: sell their programs.
As the programs swell, they become unwieldy, requiring large bloated bureaucracies to administer them to ward off the inevitable fraud and corruption, consuming an ever greater part of the tax booty and servicing less to the originally intended recipients. In order to control the chaos of a large group of people cueing up to get something for nothing, large volumes of laws and regulations have to be written to control who gets what and where and when and who the givers and who the takers are. Now, the bureaucrats who administer these programs are also dependent on them for their livelihoods. This entrenches the program and assures its progression to Stage Two.
The Magic Dragon Isn’t Cute Anymore
Somewhere along the line, the gentle legislators discover that their baby dragon has grown and it’s snarling at them a lot. It wants much food. They’re not controlling it; it’s controlling them. However, in order to retain their prestigious position, ever-increasing sources must be found to feed their growing rapacious raptor.
The food source (tax burden) shifts rapidly downward into the middle class, as the gentle politicians coo that only the rich are being soaked. Concomitant with the increase of taxation, the miracle of hidden taxation through monetary inflation is discovered as central banks print more and more money to allow the good times to continue over and above what direct taxation will allow.
This process of monetary inflation results in debasement of the currency, causing the citizens to work harder and harder and run faster and faster to keep up with the loss of their currency’s value and the concomitant rise of prices. It’s slow at first but accelerates along an insidious exponential path. Ultimately it destroys everything the middle class works for.
Additional reptilian food sources called “revenue streams” are created. More fees, fines, “mitigation payments” and permits are required to do almost anything, driving the cost of doing everything upwards. Coupled with this is a bewildering array of regulation and laws making the business of life more and more difficult to accomplish. Big businesses can absorb this but the middle class ultimately buckles under the strain. The dragon is never satisfied.
Stage 2: Silent War Between Government and Its Citizens
At some point, the unwashed masses suspect their politicians aren’t really gentle any more much less benevolent. This is where a silent war between government and people erupts. It’s a blurry transition through never-never land when the politicians still claim to be gentle but the people sense that they have gone from being protectors of the public good and private property to a plunderers of it; from morality to immorality.
The “Bastiat” transition doesn’t take place all at once but, one by one, members of the working class realize they’re toiling like mad and getting no where. What they do make is confiscated in taxes or destroyed in inflation. They have little left over and their life’s savings are being destroyed while the politicians tell them all is just fine, creating cognitive dissonance between the hardship workers experience and the good times the politicians promise.
But those friends of the dragon on the dole still insist the dragon’s intentions are moral, even if its methods are not. As tax rates push ever higher into confiscatory ranges, self-preservation kicks in and the people take defensive action against what they no longer perceive as moral duty but legally-sanctioned plunder. They do this at the same time they pretend the gentle politicians are correct even though they know better.
The rich catch on and move their assets offshore and sometimes themselves out of the reach of the dragon; they expatriate. They have the means to structure their finances in such as way as preserve wealth. Besides, the politicians are frequently among this class so they aren’t about to let the dragon loose on themselves.
Unfortunately, the middle class doesn’t have this option, so it fights the dragon by engaging in evasive maneuvers. Citizens cheat on taxes, and seek to conceal taxable assets. Whenever possible transactions are shielded from the ever-prying eyes of the hungry dragon.
As the ravages of taxation and inflation eat out the middle class’s substance, a vibrant underground economy springs up, utilizing barter, cash, foreign currencies, precious metals or other means to conceal taxable activity. Regulatory laws are flouted as people try to “see what they can get away with.” Often times this underground economy has an organized crime component vis a vis the former Soviet Union.
The second half of Stage Two of the war kicks into gear as the dragon responds to the rising opposition and imposes a growing panoply of laws and regulations with increasing fines, penalties and prison sentences. To block the rampant flouting of law, the dragon wants to monitor everything the citizens do in order to assure that plunder shall be paid, all in the name of the rule of law, public order and morality. Civil rights break down, all in the name of morality and public security.
Every once in a while the beleaguered middle class pleads with the gentle politicians to fix the problem, unaware that it was the gentle politicians, who created it all in the first place. But politicians are more than happy to be seen as dragon slayers, and create a series of scapegoats for the problem, transferring blame for the mess and enacting a new series of programs to supposedly fix the problem. In reality, they just delay the pain, put the dragon on steroids and making the problem far worse.
The war is not without casualties. As it becomes ever more difficult for small businesses to function in the poisoned atmosphere of taxes, fees, fines, regulations and prosecutions, more of the middle class throws up its hands and goes elsewhere or becomes part of the the dependent poor. Small business goes out of business or operates illegally. As inflation devours life savings, people are wiped out. Retirees have a difficult time getting on as their lifetime achievements are destroyed. Most of the middle class slides inexorably down the slope into poverty.
There is a moral consequence as scandals erupt in the politico and monied classes. Disrespect of law is common. In the free-for-all, everyone is in it for himself and no one can afford to obey the law. Jails swell with those unfortunate enough to get caught. As more complex laws are steadily passed, finally all citizens become law-breakers.
This enables the dragon to seek pretexts for seizing the assets of citizens. Businesses are nationalized. Wage and price controls are instituted. Property ownership is forcibly transferred from those who oppose the dragon to those who support it. Retirement plans are brought under the “protection” of government and their owners left with government-issued IOUs. Assets are seized on the mere allegation of criminal activity. Indeed, law enforcement agencies encourage their members to plunder. They even make arrangements with organized crime at times. The list of plunder-and-defend possibilities is astounding.
In an effort to stem the hemorrhage, the middle class starts throwing out the rascal politicians, only to elect another group of rascals. This has little effect, since the dragon is now a self-existing monster that doesn’t require gentle politicians. By this stage it’s clear: Small and middle class businesses, ranchers and farmers all know who the enemy is: the dragon. There is no illusion that the politicians are gentle or acting in their best interests.
As the security of property ownership declines, investments flee and the economic environment becomes unstable, no one wants to invest where earnings will be heavily taxed, or even the possibility of direct confiscation on the allegation of having violated a plethora of unknowable, unobservable laws. Doing business is just too dangerous.
As doing business becomes dangerous, investments die, jobs go out of existence, increasing the pain of the working lower and middle classes. Small business is always the primary creator of employment and it is the most abused. In the end, the rich are never soaked, the middle class is destroyed and the poor discover that there is no free lunch.
Stage Three: Dies Irae: A Day of Wrath and Mourning
Ultimately the dragon cannot keep its promises. This last stage is where events turn nasty and chaotic. It is a dangerous time. It is a time no country should ever wish to reach.
Politicians are perceived as ravenous wolves. Blame and finger-pointing frenzies among politicians erupt to deflect responsibility for the chaos they have caused as they attempt to hold onto their privileged status.
Faith in government dissolves along with faith in the currency. Widespread flouting of law is common and tax payments quit. If it gets bad enough, crime flourishes, both organized and random. The domestic economy collapses into a depression and the currency just collapses.
By this time there are several violently outraged groups of people: the first group consists of those who have been dependent on the dragon for their free programs, and once the dragon reneges on its promises to provide these, they are outraged at the violation of their imagined rights to a free lunch. This group can include pensioners who paid the dragon money but discover the dragon spent it all before they retired.
The second group is the middle class, who have been beaten to death to feed the dragon and his cronies. They have lost all their livelihood and property. This is the point where many revolutions occur. Sometimes the revolutions are non-bloody and occur only at the voting booths; sometimes they are bloody and violent. It is a dangerous time because the chaos caused by the breakdown of economic and political order coupled with the collapse of morality often requires brute force to restore order, and brute force is the fertile ground for dictators and the destruction of rights.
One of the great ironies of history is that those who started the mess and benefitted greatly from it are rarely ever called to pay for the crimes and carnage they caused.
Finally the dragon dies.
Conclusion
No country trapped in socialism goes through all the events described above, which is a composite of past histories. It can turn itself at any time providing it is prepared to discipline itself the undergo the pain required to get off the public dole, much like coming off an addiction. Few societies ever want to face that, so they condemn themselves to all three stages. And the longer they wait to enact the necessary changes, the worse the pain becomes.
From currency, to energy to property rights, issues today are clouded with so much static and partisan bickering that the average person has little real comprehension of what is happening. Frequently Democrats and Republicans blame each other when often they’re both responsible and fiddle while Rome burns.
America is truly at an economic and moral crossroad, having already started into Stage Two of the sad road to socialism. Whether or not we plow through all three stages remains to be seen. It takes great moral courage to prevent this but politicians tend to be neither moral or courageous.
Thus it is up to what actions are moral, legal and necessary to see us, our families and friends safely through the tempest. But as a ray of hope, it is here where Americans in times past have always shown themselves most noble.
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