'The true Soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because He loves what is behind him.' -G. K. Chesterton

28 February 2010

Sunday Kipling

In light of the threat from pelosi and crew to pass health care by fiat, I thought this poem was apropos.


Dane Geld

It is always a temptation to an armed and agile nation
To call upon a neighbour and to say:
"We invaded you last night, we are quite prepared to fight,
Unless you pay us cash to go away."

And that is called asking for Dane-geld,
And the people who ask it explain
That you've only to pay 'em the Dane-geld
And then you'll get rid of the Dane!

It is always a temptation for a rich and lazy nation,
To puff and look important and to say:
"Though we know we should defeat you, we have not the time to meet you.
We will therefore pay you cash to go away."

And that is called paying the Dane-geld;
But we've proved it again and again,
That if once you have paid him the Dane-geld
You never get rid of the Dane.

It is wrong to put temptation in the path of any nation,
For fear they should succumb and go astray;
So when you are requested to pay up or be molested,
You will find it better policy to say:

"We never pay any-one Dane-geld,
No matter how trifling the cost;
For the end of that game is oppression and shame,
And the nation that pays it is lost!"

27 February 2010

You Think You're Manly?

Ed demonstrates the superiority of The American Fighter Pilot in all things Manly.


Read it all, especially the comment by Juvat. I am in awe.

Manliness of epic proportions.

Juvat, I'll buy the booze. I just want to see someone drink an Afterburner.



Our hearts and prayers are with the Chilean people this morning. The death toll is 214 and climbing....


8.8. We experienced Loma Prieta in 1989. 6.9 to 7.1 depending on who's figures you believe. That's about 10 times less than 8.8 and I'm here to tell you it was bad.



26 February 2010

Beware the evil F-bomb

Hey, California, Go Fuck Yourself!

From Fox: "The state Assembly passed a resolution Thursday that would establish the first week of March as "Cuss Free Week" throughout the state."

TAXPAYER dollars went to the State Assembly to pass a resolution with "...no enforcement mechanism" which was "meant to promote greater harmony and connectedness, said Assemblyman Anthony Portantino". But what this did was curtail my freedom of speech, gimmicky or not.

Now, let's review. A constitution is a contract between the governed and the government. If the parties involved are concerned with a issue the contract will specify it's allowed/not allowed status.

"You may not have animals residing at the residence."
"The landlord is responsible for all lawn maintenance."
"You have the right to speak as you wish."

California Constitutuion:
ARTICLE ONE- Declaration of Rights
-SEC. 2
(a) Every person may freely speak, write and publish his or her sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse of this right. A law may not restrain or abridge liberty of speech or press.

Alrighty, cussing in public isn't going to win you friends and no one is under an obligation to help help you if you call Otto the Human Wrecker "an uptight MotherFucker that has a stupid haircut" and he beats the crap out of you (cause you are responsible for the abuse of your right to free speech. oh, responsibility, you heartless bitch!). Hmmm.. So, does passing a resolution that doesn't include a punishment still violate the California Constitution? I mean, come on, it's just a RESOLUTION! It's no big deal!

But here's the problem. Since when is it okay for the people I pay to make my state run effectively to instead sit around and decide that my dropping an f-bomb is any of their business?

The Fox article mentions the kid that inspired the whole idea, McKay Hatch, a Pasadena teenager, "who started a No Cussing Club at his junior high school in 2007".

Holy crap on a cracker.

But wait, it gets better.

"Hatch, who traveled to Sacramento with his family to support the resolution, said he sees a link between foul-mouthed incivility and other forms of problem behavior, such as drug use and bullying."

So, picture it. The resolution passes and the next day at school Francis the Bully sees a flyer for the California resolution banning cussing. He picks up Little Billy by the shirt front, but stops. He's not sure why. He begins thinking, a new hobby for Francis, and then, BAM!, it hits him. Since he can't cuss any longer, he shouldn't bully anymore either! YES! That was it! He sets Little Billy back on the ground, brushes him off, and then invites Little Billy to the park. They run around all day, holding hands and flying kites! They become BFFs and Francis has a new start to life!

Or maybe he just beats the everliving piss out of Little Billy, 'cause Francis is a jackass, all the while spinning a web of vulgarities because he's a JACKASS!

I mean, really, people. Not only is this a waste of time and money, it's an absolute insult to our way of life and our intellect.

So in conclusion (never use that in an essay, teachers like to take marks for that! well, the good ones anyway) my children hear the f word on a regular basis. Why? Cause it's a word and I'm rasing functioning people not whiney pussies.

Say it with me now:

Kiss my ass you fucking retards.

And do your Goddamned job! They can't balance the fucking budget, won't stand up to unions, refuse to cut spending, but boy when the chance to take a meaningless, but illegal, stand on cussing comes along they won't step back from the hard decisions that come their way!

The DO

25 February 2010


I'm going to catch flak on this but never let it be said The Six was afraid to take a stance.

I want homosexuals to want the same things I do. A home, a family, a good job and a firearm.

I want them to feel the bite of exorbitant taxes and to worry about their kids' school.

I want sleepless nights over finances and child care.

I want them debating eroding civil rights and a corrupt government.

In short, I want them to be Conservative.

Conservatism/Libertarianism is the natural state for a free people. Why would we want to deny that to anyone? We as conservatives will never be what we can be as long as we turn people away because of the demographic they fall into. Judging people based on such is the work of Liberals and anathema to a freedom loving nation.

I've seen enough conservative homosexuals to know they're out there, largely on their own. They're blogging and talking about the same issues I am. They have the many of same concerns I have. They want some things I don't but so do many others who name themselves Conservative or Libertarian.

I refuse to equate homosexual with Liberal. It is simply not true. A quick visit to http://hillbuzz.org/ and http://www.gaypatriot.net/ will confirm that.

I applaud CPAC's inclusion of GOProud as a sponsor. I'm proud to stand beside them. I'm also proud to stand beside all currently serving military or veterans, whatever their demographic.


American Chicks Rock

Just finished watching the women's hockey match where the U.S. women lost to Canada 2-0. It was a great game and the Americans played their hearts out. To see the tears in their eyes when they lost was heart breaking. I mean, they got a silver medal at the Olympics but they wanted that gold so badly. You could see the disappointment in their eyes. I was proud of them.

You know what you didn't see?

Poor sportsmanship. Whining. Pissing and Moaning. They got beat, took their medals and acted like adults about it.

I've said here many times how much I admire American Women. Not just because I'm married to one, am the father of one and the grandfather of a future one. No. Because American Chicks Rock!

American women are world class in most any sport you care to name. I really don't care what your opinion of women's sports is. The simple facts are that these sports exist, are contested around the world to huge audiences and American Chicks tend to be pretty damn dominant overall. From Softball to Gymnastics. From Hockey to Skiing. From Basketball to Track. American women can be counted on to be world class in all of them. When the men are nowhere to be found you'll be able to watch an American Chick in there contesting for a medal.

In a world where professional women's sports are pretty rare (or even non-existent) this means that the playing field is pretty level. You don't generally have the best women athletes staying away from amateur events because they have a better paying position on a professional team. That means that the American Chicks are regularly kicking the ass off the best female athletes in the world.

It doesn't stop there. In politics we find American chicks leading the way. Michelle Bachmann and Sarah Palin are pretty much out there alone at the moment carrying the conservative water. Think I'm wrong? Show me an apologetically conservative Republican man who's out in front, risking the wrath of the vile left. Go ahead, I'll be waiting right over here.

Check out the Warrior Blog Roll. Take a good look at how many of those links are conservative women. Now go read some of these kick ass chicks and tell me you're not impressed.

I am so glad I live in a country that produces people of the caliber of The American Woman. You are everything a free people should be and an inspiration to me.

American Chicks are just plain awesome!


This Is What The One Really Thinks Of Our Military

The Military has a program called MyCAA, My Career Advancement Accounts, a program that gives qualified military spouses up to $6,000 in tuition assistance to help them pursue portable careers.

This is important because, in these times of War the Military spouse may become permanently disabled or killed at pretty much any moment. Having a program that assists the spouse in obtaining career enhancing education and skills seems like a no brainer. They may become the family's primary bread winner without warning. Assisting these families in preparation for a worst case scenario is a good use of taxpayer funds. With a government wasting hundreds of billions of dollars on every boondoggle and wasteful earmark imaginable, MyCAA funding should be among the last to be cut.

According to the articles I've read, DOD MyCAA officials are saying that the halt is temporary. http://www.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123192179

But some have found that they can't access the money in their accounts for classes already signed up for and approved. They've been told to "seek other funding sources".


Whatever is happening with MyCAA it is pretty obvious that the needs of military families are being treated with less respect than they deserve. Funding for these folks shouldn’t be an afterthought, subject to the whims of the military hating elites currently in charge of the government.

Yet another swipe at the men and women who keep this country free so they can be spit on by those unworthy to carry their water.

h/t http://kitchendispatch.blogspot.com/ I've added her to The Warrior Roll. If I've said it once I've said it a thousand times, you Women Warriors rule!


21 February 2010

Sunday Kipling

John Ringo got me onto Kipling. I'm not much on poetry but ol' Rudyard speaks to me. To my heart. To my soul. To the Warrior buried under my years. John claims that all true soldiers love Kipling. I don't know about that but I do and I'm indebted to John for opening my eyes.
I read The Ballad Of Boh Da Thone long ago but it remains one of my favorites.
I'm thinking of making Sunday Kipling a regular post. What say you all?

The Ballad of Boh Da Thone
This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne,
Who harried the district of Alalone:
How he met with his fate and the V.P.P.*
At the hand of Harendra Mukerji,
Senior Gomashta, G.B.T.

Boh Da Thone was a warrior bold:
His sword and his rifle were bossed with gold,

And the Peacock Banner his henchmen bore
Was stiff with bullion, but stiffer with gore.

He shot at the strong and he slashed at the weak
From the Salween scrub to the Chindwin teak:

He crucified noble, he sacrificed mean,
He filled old ladies with kerosene:

While over the water the papers cried,
"The patriot fights for his countryside!"

But little they cared for the Native Press,
The worn white soldiers in Khaki dress,

Who tramped through the jungle and camped in the byre,
Who died in the swamp and were tombed in the mire,

Who gave up their lives, at the Queen's Command,
For the Pride of their Race and the Peace of the Land.

Now, first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone
Was Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone,

And his was a Company, seventy strong,
Who hustled that dissolute Chief along.

There were lads from Galway and Louth and Meath
Who went to their death with a joke in their teeth,

And worshipped with fluency, fervour, and zeal
The mud on the boot-heels of "Crook" O'Neil.

But ever a blight on their labours lay,
And ever their quarry would vanish away,

Till the sun-dried boys of the Black Tyrone
Took a brotherly interest in Boh Da Thone:

And, sooth, if pursuit in possession ends,
The Boh and his trackers were best of friends.

The word of a scout -- a march by night --
A rush through the mist -- a scattering fight --

A volley from cover -- a corpse in the clearing --
The glimpse of a loin-cloth and heavy jade earring --

The flare of a village -- the tally of slain --
And. . .the Boh was abroad on the raid again!

They cursed their luck, as the Irish will,
They gave him credit for cunning and skill,

They buried their dead, they bolted their beef,
And started anew on the track of the thief

Till, in place of the "Kalends of Greece", men said,
"When Crook and his darlings come back with the head."

They had hunted the Boh from the hills to the plain --
He doubled and broke for the hills again:

They had crippled his power for rapine and raid,
They had routed him out of his pet stockade,

And at last, they came, when the Daystar tired,
To a camp deserted -- a village fired.

A black cross blistered the morning-gold,
And the body upon it was stark and cold.

The wind of the dawn went merrily past,
The high grass bowed her plumes to the blast.

And out of the grass, on a sudden, broke
A spirtle of fire, a whorl of smoke --

And Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone
Was blessed with a slug in the ulnar-bone --
The gift of his enemy Boh Da Thone.

(Now a slug that is hammered from telegraph-wire
Is a thorn in the flesh and a rankling fire.)

. . . . .

The shot-wound festered -- as shot-wounds may
In a steaming barrack at Mandalay.

The left arm throbbed, and the Captain swore,
"I'd like to be after the Boh once more!"

The fever held him -- the Captain said,
"I'd give a hundred to look at his head!"

The Hospital punkahs creaked and whirred,
But Babu Harendra (Gomashta) heard.

He thought of the cane-brake, green and dank,
That girdled his home by the Dacca tank.

He thought of his wife and his High School son,
He thought -- but abandoned the thought -- of a gun.

His sleep was broken by visions dread
Of a shining Boh with a silver head.

He kept his counsel and went his way,
And swindled the cartmen of half their pay.

. . . . .

And the months went on, as the worst must do,
And the Boh returned to the raid anew.

But the Captain had quitted the long-drawn strife,
And in far Simoorie had taken a wife;

And she was a damsel of delicate mould,
With hair like the sunshine and heart of gold,

And little she knew the arms that embraced
Had cloven a man from the brow to the waist:

And little she knew that the loving lips
Had ordered a quivering life's eclipse,

Or the eye that lit at her lightest breath
Had glared unawed in the Gates of Death.

(For these be matters a man would hide,
As a general rule, from an innocent Bride.)

And little the Captain thought of the past,
And, of all men, Babu Harendra last.

. . . . .

But slow, in the sludge of the Kathun road,
The Government Bullock Train toted its load.

Speckless and spotless and shining with ghi,
In the rearmost cart sat the Babu-jee.

And ever a phantom before him fled
Of a scowling Boh with a silver head.

Then the lead-cart stuck, though the coolies slaved,
And the cartmen flogged and the escort raved;

And out of the jungle, with yells and squeals,
Pranced Boh Da Thone, and his gang at his heels!

Then belching blunderbuss answered back
The Snider's snarl and the carbine's crack,

And the blithe revolver began to sing
To the blade that twanged on the locking-ring,

And the brown flesh blued where the bay'net kissed,
As the steel shot back with a wrench and a twist,

And the great white oxen with onyx eyes
Watched the souls of the dead arise,

And over the smoke of the fusillade
The Peacock Banner staggered and swayed.

Oh, gayest of scrimmages man may see
Is a well-worked rush on the G.B.T.!

The Babu shook at the horrible sight,
And girded his ponderous loins for flight,

But Fate had ordained that the Boh should start
On a lone-hand raid of the rearmost cart,

And out of that cart, with a bellow of woe,
The Babu fell -- flat on the top of the Boh!

For years had Harendra served the State,
To the growth of his purse and the girth of his p]^et.

There were twenty stone, as the tally-man knows,
On the broad of the chest of this best of Bohs.

And twenty stone from a height discharged
Are bad for a Boh with a spleen enlarged.

Oh, short was the struggle -- severe was the shock --
He dropped like a bullock -- he lay like a block;

And the Babu above him, convulsed with fear,
Heard the labouring life-breath hissed out in his ear.

And thus in a fashion undignified
The princely pest of the Chindwin died.

. . . . .

Turn now to Simoorie where, lapped in his ease,
The Captain is petting the Bride on his knees,

Where the whit of the bullet, the wounded man's scream
Are mixed as the mist of some devilish dream --

Forgotten, forgotten the sweat of the shambles
Where the hill-daisy blooms and the gray monkey gambols,

From the sword-belt set free and released from the steel,
The Peace of the Lord is on Captain O'Neil.

. . . . .

Up the hill to Simoorie -- most patient of drudges --
The bags on his shoulder, the mail-runner trudges.

"For Captain O'Neil, Sahib. One hundred and ten
Rupees to collect on delivery."

(Their breakfast was stopped while the screw-jack and hammer
Tore waxcloth, split teak-wood, and chipped out the dammer;)

Open-eyed, open-mouthed, on the napery's snow,
With a crash and a thud, rolled -- the Head of the Boh!

And gummed to the scalp was a letter which ran: --
10th Jan.

"Dear Sir, -- I have honour to send, as you said,
For final approval (see under) Boh's Head;

"Was took by myself in most bloody affair.
By High Education brought pressure to bear.

"Now violate Liberty, time being bad,
To mail V.P.P. (rupees hundred) Please add

"Whatever Your Honour can pass. Price of Blood
Much cheap at one hundred, and children want food;

"So trusting Your Honour will somewhat retain
True love and affection for Govt. Bullock Train,

"And show awful kindness to satisfy me,
I am,
Graceful Master,

. . . . .

As the rabbit is drawn to the rattlesnake's power,
As the smoker's eye fills at the opium hour,

As a horse reaches up to the manger above,
As the waiting ear yearns for the whisper of love,

From the arms of the Bride, iron-visaged and slow,
The Captain bent down to the Head of the Boh.

And e'en as he looked on the Thing where It lay
'Twixt the winking new spoons and the napkins' array,

The freed mind fled back to the long-ago days --
The hand-to-hand scuffle -- the smoke and the blaze --

The forced march at night and the quick rush at dawn --
The banjo at twilight, the burial ere morn --

The stench of the marshes -- the raw, piercing smell
When the overhand stabbing-cut silenced the yell --

The oaths of his Irish that surged when they stood
Where the black crosses hung o'er the Kuttamow flood.

As a derelict ship drifts away with the tide
The Captain went out on the Past from his Bride,

Back, back, through the springs to the chill of the year,
When he hunted the Boh from Maloon to Tsaleer.

As the shape of a corpse dimmers up through deep water,
In his eye lit the passionless passion of slaughter,

And men who had fought with O'Neil for the life
Had gazed on his face with less dread than his wife.

For she who had held him so long could not hold him --
Though a four-month Eternity should have controlled him --

But watched the twin Terror -- the head turned to head --
The scowling, scarred Black, and the flushed savage Red --

The spirit that changed from her knowing and flew to
Some grim hidden Past she had never a clue to.

But It knew as It grinned, for he touched it unfearing,
And muttered aloud, "So you kept that jade earring!"

Then nodded, and kindly, as friend nods to friend,
"Old man, you fought well, but you lost in the end."

. . . . .

The visions departed, and Shame followed Passion: --
"He took what I said in this horrible fashion,

"I'll write to Harendra!" With language unsainted
The Captain came back to the Bride. . .who had fainted.

. . . . .

And this is a fiction? No. Go to Simoorie
And look at their baby, a twelve-month old Houri,

A pert little, Irish-eyed Kathleen Mavournin --
She's always about on the Mall of a mornin' --

And you'll see, if her right shoulder-strap is displaced,
This: Gules upon argent, a Boh's Head, erased!

He gets it.

I don't know how many of you watch or listen to Glenn Beck, but the dude gets it. Like gets it. Ya know? He is a self made man, a recovering alcoholic,and he turned to the Mormon faith in his attempt to seek happiness. Seek happiness. He didn't have anyone hand him anything, he fought for it. He is really smart on this stuff, and it is inspiring to me to hear him. So, go, now and watch him at CPAC.

Glenn at CPAC

And while you are there, there are a ton of great videos from him. Take a look, he's got some great stuff to say.

The DO

18 February 2010


Lu and I are heading out to the house in Utah for a week or so tomorrow. I'm taking my laptop but don't have internet there yet so probably won't be posting until I get back.

You all have a good week and be safe out there.


15 February 2010

AGW Goodness

Go here and read this brilliant and witty ass kicking of AGW.


Can you say "You is my bitch now?"

I've also added Borepatch to The Warrior Roll. He's funnier and smarter than I am but I'm undoubtedly better looking.



14 February 2010

Stolen Valor

There's been a spate of these douchebags lately. As far as I'm concerned they can all go fuck themselves. If you want to wear the uniform then by all means, go visit a recruiter and join. Do it today. If not, then leave the heroing to the heroes.

Now we've got some more chicken livered lawyers and scumbag wanna be's challenging the law that puts these people in jail.


The Warrior class doesn't need anyone to tell us Stolen Valor is no worse than lying to pick up a date. It is. It's theft of honor. Most of those who visit here are either real heroes (Ed and Sarge, I'm looking at you two here) or know those who are. Most of have served or been connected in some way to someone who has. We feel the bite and outrage at seeing some punk pass himself off as a war hero. We understand the cost of those uniforms and medals. We will not allow anyone to tarnish the value of that service, paid in blood and sacrifice.

I haven't been active in this area but as I am now retired I believe I will devote some of my free time to researching this plague on society as well as sending messages to those who would excuse such behavior.


11 February 2010


Here's a link to a fantastic post on Patriotism by a woman who knows what she's talking about. Nicki has the background and intelligence to talk about this subject and I found this post to be nearly perfect. Please take a moment to go there and read it. Leave her a comment as well.


I've added her blog to our Warrior Roll as well (belatedly, shame on me).

Another fierce Warrior who is already on The Long Ride. Our cup runneth over.


10 February 2010

Feb. 11th

Big Dick over at http://bigdicksplace.com/ has a post up about Iran. Tomorrow, February 11th is the anniversary of the 1979 revolution. While that date is currently something less than a day of celebration for Americans, it's looking more and more like one that's shaping up to be the next step in a true revolution for the Iranian people.

If the story over at Pajamas Media http://pajamasmedia.com/michaelledeen/2010/02/10/another-showdown-at-the-mullahs-corral/ is anything close to reality the mullahs in Tehran are quaking in their slippers. Go read the story and catch the live blog links tomorrow.

It should be interesting at least and if they over-react and shooting breaks out, look for heads on pikes and I don't mean the protestors.

The warrior Class sends our prayers to these seekers after democracy. We also send our sincere hopes that the current American administration doesn't fail as badly as they did the last time.

Why do I think that's a vain hope?

h/t to Big Dick


09 February 2010

Gun Pron

I've been adding more traditional firearms to my collection the last few years. This is where my head has been lately:

Top to bottom, left to right:
Marlin 336 30-30
Winchester 94 30-30
Ruger Stainless Vaquero 44-40
Ruger New Model Blackhawk 45 Colt
Marlin 1895 45-70
Marlin 1894 45 Colt
Stevens 311E SxS 12 ga.
Stoeger Uplander SxS 28 ga.

I've also got a 18 inch barrel Norinco SxS coach gun in 12 ga. with exposed hammers. It's at the Utah house at the moment.

I'm mostly done, at least for the moment, but a nice double shotgun will always make me take another look. I'd really like to add a BPCR. I've been drooling over the guns at http://www.shilohrifle.com/. Expensive but.... I also think a double rifle is in my future, if I can find one that costs somewhat less than a new truck.

Not only have I re-discovered my love of traditional western guns but i figure that when the ban hammer is wielded, these will be the last to go.

Meh, call me a pessimist.


08 February 2010

New Look

The DO has given the place a new look. She's actually competent with this whole computer thing. Unlike others who shall remain nameless.

I like it. It is exactly the kind of thing I was looking for. And she did it just for her dad. Love that girl.

Thanks DO. You are hereby awarded the Chairborne Warrior Blog Medal, First Class.


The World Must Be Ending

31 to 17. The Saints won the Superbowl. Really? The Saints????

I guess that Glowbull Warming thing that's dumped cubic miles of snow on the northeast has reached Hell.

I thought I saw 4 angry looking guys on horses this morning.



05 February 2010


As of 1330 this afternoon I am retired. I got the badge that says so right at the top. They gave me mementos, plaques and my active duty badge encased in Lucite. My friends got together and bought me my duty pistol. I will someday pass it along to my grandson. The uniforms are put away. The locker is cleared out. As tradition dictates, I have passed on my 25 year old handcuffs to the young officer I admire most. I know she'll keep the rust off them. The Chief and Deputy Chief took me out to breakfast and said nice things.

Ed, Nanc, The Sarge, The DO, Lu and many of my friends have given me the benefit of their wisdom and support. Thank you all.

The question of the day is "How do you feel?" The short answer is "All things considered, pretty good."

I don't intend to be one of those old geezers who can't do anything but sit around, talking about the good old days. 24 years 2 months in law enforcement. Add in 8 years 8 months of military time and I've been in one uniform or another for 2 months shy of 33 years. That's enough for anyone. It's time to move on and I intend to do exactly that.

I'll keep on shooting and trying to keep my martial skills sharp. I'm going to stay fit. Actually I intend to see just how fit A 50 something guy can get. Call it FiftyFit. I still lift and re-discovered my love for bicycles last year. A century is in my immediate future.

I'm going to spend all the time with my family I can. Especially the grand kids. Lu deserves to see me more often than just days off. We're going to travel. I'm going on some epic motorcycle rides with my best friend.

We have 2 houses in need of work or re-model. My honey do list is the size of a fair book.

I'm going to consult a little and maybe teach at the Academy. I've been approached by a couple of attorneys so I may even go private for a bit. Nothing serious though. I have 33 years of goofing off to catch up on.

It's been a good career. I regret nothing. I got through it alive and only a little crippled. I've had a chance to investigate everything from petty theft to murder. I've handled most any kind of call you can name. Met the strangest people, gaping assholes and felons of every stripe. Mostly though, people are just that. People. Folks just trying to get by and who do their best day in and day out, never asking for anything but a fair chance and to be left alone. I love them dearly.

I got to do a lot of very cool things. Motors. Bicycles. Even being an admin puke. The FBI trained me to be a SWAT officer and firearms instructor. John Plaster trained me to be a sniper. The smartest man I've ever actually met trained me to be an accident investigator. A stewardess taught me interrogation techniques(seriously!). Along the way I managed to attend hundreds of hours of formal training on everything from defensive tactics to domestic violence investigation to instructor development. My training record runs to 6 typed pages. I was indeed fortunate.

I've chased bad guys and fought for my life hand to hand with an armed felon determined to kill me. I've picked up kids off the street and returned them home and told other parents theirs wasn't coming home again. Ever.

I've seen more naked people than a porn director. Each one crazier than the last.

I've seen more death than anyone short of a morgue or a combat zone. I've comforted the elderly as I arranged for transport of their just deceased spouse. I've seen what 2 ton vehicles, alcohol and speed does to the human body. I've seen the trauma a tiny projectile can do. I've literally had an elderly man breathe his last breath into my mouth as I gave him unprotected CPR in front of his crying wife, desperate to save his life but knowing I was doomed to failure. I helped save the life of a drowning victim, only to see the paramedic kill her through heroin induced incompetence. I've seen the body of my friend, a man I convinced to join the police department, as he lay cooling on the operating table at the E.R., after eating his gun.

I've laughed at things, sometimes because they were funny and sometimes because I had to do so to remain sane.

I've met the finest people on this planet. People who would do anything to help someone else. The truly selfless. They saved me because they gave me hope that my efforts were not in vain.

I've handed out stickers and cards to wide eyed kids and taken others, fucked up beyond my ability to fix, to juvenile hall. Lost causes and I never knew why. I've investigated crimes against children I still can't talk about. Not because it's not allowed but because they're too horrible to remember. I once got a pedophile convicted and incarcerated. After his sentence was up I helped get him deported back to France (where he no doubt is as celebrated as that other child raping scumbag). Job satisfaction.

I've arrested more drunk drivers than I can count. I've even been thanked by a few.

I've seen officers come and go. Some went on to careers at other departments. Some couldn't handle the training or the pressure. A few were bad. Some just disappeared.

I've seen the good ones too though. The ones who are or will be fine, even great officers. Some I trained, some I just befriended but I revel in the knowledge that I have had some influence on all of them. Without shame or reservation I say that I love them. My spiritual Brothers and Sisters.

No, I have no regrets but I will not dwell on that which was. I will tell the occasional joke or story from those days but I will look forward. I cannot say whether I was a good cop or not. That judgement is for others to make. I will say that I did my duty as best I could, as conscientiously as I could every single day. In the end, that's all anyone can say.

Good, bad or indifferent, I have reached that stage which comes to all of us if we are so fortunate as to survive the pitfalls of this thing we call life.

I wrote in my final message to the department that everyone has some kind of good luck. Mine has always been the people in my life. It was the supreme honor of my life to have served with some of the finest.

I am content.


03 February 2010

A true hero

I'm tired of the military being so maligned in the current political situation. I'm tired of the inconvenient truth that our nation was built by the common man and his weapons being ignored. If you can't read the above caption it reads

"Washington didn't use his right to free speech to defeat the British, he shot them."

And it's the truth. The very "leaders" that are trying to destroy the institution Washington risked his life to create have the nerve to live and work in the city bearing his name.

Here's an excerpt from George Washington's War by Bruce Chadwick, Ph.D.
(To set this up, the British were attacking American forces outside of Princeton PA; the Americans were retreating under heavy attack until Washington rode hard from down the road and into the fray. At that point the Americans began moving forward once again and attacking, renewed.) :

"'Fire!' yelled the commander-in-chief. Both sides fired at the same time. The morning was thick with smoke and the sound of musketry as hundreds of bullets cut through the air around Washington in what a man there called a 'very heavy platoon fire.' The general never moved as the barrage erupted around him. He sat implacably on his horse, his eyes glowering at the British. His men were amazed that he had not been killed by the fusillade; they were also impressed that a general would stand right in the line of fire with them.

The British troops were unnerved by the heavy American fire and the bravery of their commander. There was a fast second volley from the Americans; the British fled. They expected some militiamen to chase after them, yelling in victory, as was the custom, but were astonished to see Washtington himself leading the chase on his horse."

So to recap... About 600 American's took on about 1200 Brits, at first lost, then rallied under Washington's presence and won the day.

Now, I love me a good John Wayne movie, but he was an actor. George Washington was the real damned deal. The pantywaisted dipshit assholes trying to pass health care would have been cowed by a steely look from this giant of a man. It is to him I look, amazingly, and not to Stalin or Che.

Shocking I know.

The DO

02 February 2010



More proof of the backlash against authoritarianism worldwide. Socialism is anti-freedom and therefore anti-human. Seems like the people of Venezuela have gotten the message and are expressing themselves as freedom fighters through history have. Let's hope our own anti-freedom, anti-human socialists are getting the message. They had better.
The warrior Class sends our support to these Venezuelans. May you taste victory and may your enemies come to ruin.

h/t to Just Barking Mad. http://justbarkingmad.com/

Another Warrior Returns

Ed over at Thundertales has posted this. Read it and be proud that our country still produces such people. The thoughts and prayers of The Warrior Class go with this family. Our thanks are too little.
And to the flight crew and passengers. You have our thanks and respect.


01 February 2010

A Horrible Woman

Exactly correct. Thanks to The Sarge for forwarding this.