The Aisle Seat

Two Radical Arab Terrorists boarded a flight out of London . One took a window seat and the other sat next to him in the middle seat.. Just before takeoff, a U.S. Marine sat down in the aisle seat.

After takeoff, the Marine kicked his shoes off, wiggled his toes and was settling in when the Arab in the window seat said, 'I need to get up and get a coke.' Don't get up,' said the Marine, 'I'm in the aisle seat, I'll get it for you.'

As soon as he left, one of the Arabs picked up the Marine's shoe and spat in it. When the Marine returned with the coke, the other Arab said, 'That looks good, I'd really like one, too.'

Again, the Marine obligingly went to fetch it. While he was gone the other Arab picked up the Marine's other shoe and spat in it. When the Marine returned, they all sat back and enjoyed the flight.

As the plane was landing, the Marine slipped his feet into his shoes and knew immediately what had happened. He leaned over and asked his Arab neighbors...

'Why does it have to be this way?' 'How long must this go on? This fighting between our nations? This hatred? This animosity? This spitting in shoes and pissing in cokes?'

The Patriot Microchip

The Patriot Microchip is intended to be implanted in terrorists.
The implant is specifically designed to be installed in the forehead.
When properly installed it will allow the implantee to speak to god.
It comes in various sizes:

The exact size of the implant will be selected by a well-trained and highly-skilled technician.
The implant may or may not be painless.
Side effects, like headaches and nausea, are temporary.
Some bleeding or swelling may occur at the injection site.
Please enjoy the security we provide for you.

Best regards,

No Sex Since 1955

A crusty old Marine Sergeant Major found himself at a gala event hosted by a local liberal arts college. There was no shortage of extremely young idealistic ladies in attendance, one of whom approached the Sergeant Major for conversation.

Excuse me, Sergeant Major, but you seem to be a very serious man. Is something bothering you?'

Negative, ma'am. Just serious by nature.'

The young lady looked at his awards and decorations and said, 'It looks like you have seen a lot of action.'

Yes, ma'am, a lot of action.'

The young lady, tiring of trying to start up a conversation, said, 'You know, you should lighten up a little. Relax and enjoy yourself.'

The Sergeant Major just stared at her in his serious manner. Finally the young lady said, 'You know, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but when is the last time you had sex?'

1955, ma'am.'

Well, there you are. No wonder you're so serious. You really need to chill out! I mean, no sex since 1955! She took his hand and led him to a private room where she proceeded to 'relax' him several times.

Afterwards, panting for breath, she leaned against his bare chest and said, 'Wow, you sure didn't forget much since 1955.'

The Sergeant Major said in his serious voice, after glancing at his watch, 'I hope not; it's only 2130 now.'

(Gotta love military time)

Idaho Farm Kid

Dear Ma and Pa:

I am well. Hope you are too. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer that the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay... practically nothing. Men got to shave but it's not so bad... there's warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you 'til noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much.

We go on "route marches," which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.

The country is nice but awful flat. The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.

This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I'm only 5'6" and 130 pounds and he's 6'8" and near 300 pounds dry.

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join up before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding on in.

Your loving daughter,

Alice

Define Veteran

A Veteran - whether active duty, retired, national guard or reserve - is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a check made payable to "The United States of America", for an amount of "up to and including my life."

- Author Unknown

All we can do is remember

'It is, in a way, an odd thing to honor those who died in defense of our country, in defense of us, in wars afar away.

The imagination plays a trick. We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise. We see them as something like the Founding Fathers, grave and gray-haired.

But most of them were boys when they died, and they gave up two lives, the one they were living and the one they would have lived.

When they died, they gave up their chance to be husbands and fathers and grandfathers and veterans. They gave up their chance to be revered old men. They gave up everything for our country, for us. And all we can do is remember.'

- Ronald Reagan

Marines in Berkeley

Rob Riggle goes undercover to report on Berkeley, CA's reaction to a new Marine recruiting station.

Deterioration of the US Military

Almost seven years ago I sat, as did millions of other Americans, and watched as our government underwent a peaceful transition of power.

At first, I felt a swell of pride and patriotism as I watched George W. Bush take his oath of office. However, all that pride quickly vanished as I later watched the Clintons board Air Force One for the last time.

I saw 21 Marines, in full dress uniform with rifles, fire a 21-gun salute to the outgoing president and first lady. It was then that I realized how far America's military had deteriorated under the Clinton administration.

Every last one of them missed.

Veteran's Day

American Soldier- Toby Keith (tribute)

Heaven Was Needing a Hero

THE SOLDIER'S CREED

I am an American Soldier.

I am a Warrior and a member of a team.
I serve the people of the United States and live the Army Values.

I will always place the mission first.
I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit.
I will never leave a fallen comrade.

I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself.

I am an expert and I am a professional.

I stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States of America in close combat.

I am a guardian of freedom and the American way of life.

I am an American Soldier.

Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now,soldier.
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek ?
To My Church have you been true ?"

The officer squared his shoulders and said,
"No,Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep....
Though I worked a lot of overtime.
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes,God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here,Lord.
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't,I'll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now,soldier
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven"s streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

- Author Unknown

On the Experience of War

"I now know why men who have been to war yearn to reunite. Not to tell stories or look at old pictures. Not to laugh or weep. Comrades gather because they long to be with the men who once acted at their best; men who suffered and sacrificed together, who were stripped of their humanity. I did not pick these men. They were delivered by fate and the military. But I know them in a way I know no other men.

I have never given anyone such trust. They were willing to guard something more precious than my life. They would have carried my reputation, the memory of me. It was part of the bargain we all made, the reason we were so willing to die for one another. As long as I have memory, I will think of them all, every day. I am sure that when I leave this world, my last thought will be of my family and my comrades... Such good men."

- Author Unknown

Military

Take a man and put him alone,
Put him twelve thousand miles from home.
Empty his heart of all but blood,
Make him live in sand, in mud.

This is the life I have to live,
This the soul to God I give.
You have your parties and drink your beer,
While young men are dying over here.

Plant your signs on the White House lawn;
"Lets get out of Iraq".
Use your signs and have your fun,
Then refuse to use a gun.

There's nothing else for you to do,
Then I'm supposed to die for you?
There is one thing that you should know;
And that's where I think you should go!

I'm already here and it's too late.
I've traded all my love for all this hate.
I'll hate you till the day I die.
You made me hear my buddy cry.

I saw his leg and his blood shed,
Then I heard them say, "This one's dead".
It was a large price for him to pay,
To let you live another day.

He had the guts to fight and die,
To keep the freedom you live by.
By his dying, your life he buys,
But who gives a fuck if a Soldier or Marine dies!

- Author Unknown

Wise Men Bearing Gifts

A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always
remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her
smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

On My Watch Tonight

In 1992, Mike Corrado bought his first guitar, learned 3 chords and started writing songs while at The Citadel. He then graduated and joined the Marine Corps to lead our nations finest and see the world. His tours – both of duty and concert – would take him around the world, serving and performing from the North Carolina Coast to Iraq. Along the way, Mike crossed musical paths with Edwin McCain and John Mayer.

Then, on September 11, the world and Mike’s band was forever changed. Mike and his fiancé, a flight medic in the U.S. Air Force Reserve, were mobilized back to active duty. In 2002, Mike continued to train with the Marines and prepare for deployment. He married his wife Kate, who soon after was called to Afghanistan. During all this, Mike penned the song "On My Watch Tonight," a story of a Marine's journey from boot camp to the front lines.

In 2004, Mike re-recorded “On My Watch Tonight” and dropped off a copy to Greg Brady at WRHT 96.3 – “The HOT FM” – in North Carolina. “On My Watch Tonight” was posted on the HOT Morning Show's Web site and began receiving up to 5,000 downloads a week. Calls and e-mails continued to flood the station as military members, family members and fans were downloading the song and sending it to service members and loved ones across the country and deployed around the world. “On My Watch Tonight” was quickly becoming the anthem for U.S. troops deployed around the world and those here at home who keep a watchful eye.

Just days before deploying to Iraq in 2005, Mike released his CD Falling Awake. While in Iraq, he spent a year at Camp Falluja and served with some of the greatest people in the Marine Corps, Army, Navy and Air Force.

Crazy Train

It's not all that crazy, but it sure as hell rocks!

I pledge allegiance...

From a speech made by Capt. John S. McCain, US, (Rep) who represents Arizona in the U.S. Senate:

As you may know, I spent five and one half years as a prisoner of war during the Vietnam War. In the early years of our imprisonment, the NVA kept us in solitary confinement or two or three to a cell. In 1971 the NVA moved us from these conditions of isolation into large rooms with as many as 30 to 40 men to a room. This was, as you can imagine, a wonderful change and was a direct result of the efforts of millions of Americans on behalf of a few hundred POWs 10,000 miles from home.

One of the men who moved into my room was a young man named Mike Christian. Mike came from a small town near Selma, Alabama. He didn't wear a pair of shoes until he was 13 years old.

At 17, he enlisted in the US Navy. He later earned a commission by going to Officer Training School. Then he became a Naval Flight Officer and was shot down and captured in 1967.

Mike had a keen and deep appreciation of the opportunities this country, and our military, provide for people who want to work and want to succeed. As part of the change in treatment, the Vietnamese allowed some prisoners to receive packages from home. In some of these packages were handkerchiefs, scarves and other items of clothing. Mike got himself a bamboo needle.

Over a period of a couple of months, he created an American flag and sewed it on the inside of his shirt. Every afternoon, before we had a bowl of soup, we would hang Mike's shirt on the wall of the cell and say the Pledge of Allegiance. I know the Pledge of Allegiance may not seem the most important part of our day now, but I can assure you that in that stark cell, it was indeed the most important and meaningful event.

One day the Vietnamese searched our cell, as they did periodically, and discovered Mike's shirt with the flag sewn inside, and removed it. That evening they returned, opened the door of the cell, and for the benefit of all us, beat Mike Christian severely for the next couple of hours.

Then, they opened the door of the cell and threw him in. We cleaned him up as well as we could. The cell in which we lived had a concrete slab in the middle on which we slept. Four naked light bulbs hung in each corner of the room. As I said, we tried to clean up Mike as well as we could. After the excitement died down, I looked in the corner of the room, and sitting there beneath that dim light bulb with a piece of red cloth, another shirt and his bamboo needle, was my friend, Mike Christian. He was sitting there with his eyes almost shut from the beating he had received, making another American flag.

He was not making the flag because it made Mike Christian feel better. He was making that flag because he knew how important it was to us to be able to pledge our allegiance to our flag and country.

So the next time you say the Pledge of Allegiance, you must never forget the sacrifice and courage that thousands of Americans have made to build our nation and promote freedom around the world.

You must remember our duty, our honor, and our country.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic, for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

What is a vet?

Some Veterans bear visible signs of their service... A missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a Vet just by looking.

What is a vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.

He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She - or he - is the Nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL.

He is the Quantico Drill Instructor teaching marines to watch each other's backs.

He is the parade riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket... palsied now and aggravatingly slow...who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being...a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say "Thank You". That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU"

I AM COMING

Dear Terrorists,

I am a Navy Aviator. I was born and raised in a small town in New England. I come from a family of five. I was raised in a middle class home and taught my values by my mother and father.

My dad worked a series of jobs in finance and my mom took care of us kids. We were not an overly religious family but attended church most Sundays. It was a nice small Episcopal Church. I have a brother and sister and I am the youngest in my family. I was the first in many generations to attend college.

I have flown Naval aircraft for 16 years. For me the flying was never a lifelong dream or a "calling," it just happened. I needed a job and I liked the challenge. I continue to do it today because I feel it is important to give back to a nation which has given so much to me. I do it because, although I will never be rich, my family will be comfortable.

I do it because many of my friends have left for the airlines and someone has to do it.

My government has spent millions to train me to fly these multi-million dollar aircraft. I make about 70,000 dollars a year and after 20 years will be offered a pension.

I like baseball but think the players make too much money. I am in awe of firemen and policemen and what they do each day for my community, and like teachers, they just don't get paid enough.

I respect my elders and always use sir or ma'am when addressing a stranger. I'm not sure about kids these days but I think that's normal for every generation.

I voted for George Bush because I like him. I think I made a pretty good choice.

I tell you all this because when I come for you, I want you to know me. I won't be hiding behind a woman or a child. I won't be disguised or pretending to be something I am not. I will be in a U.S. issue flight suit. I will be wearing standard US issue flight gear, and I will be flying a navy aircraft clearly marked as a US warplane. I wish we could meet up close in a small room where I could wrap my hands around your throat and slowly squeeze the life out of you, but unfortunately, you're hiding in a hole in the ground, so we will have to do this a different way.

I want you to know also that I am very good at what I do. I can put a 2,000 lb weapon through a window from 10,000 feet up. I generally only fly at night, so you may want to start sleeping during the day. I am not eager to die for my country but I am willing to sacrifice my life to protect it from animals like you.

I will do everything in my power to ensure no civilians are hurt as I take aim at you.

My countrymen are a forgiving bunch. Many are already forgetting what you did on Sept 11th. But I will not forget, and my President will not forget.

I am coming. I hope you know me a little bit better, see you soon...sleep tight.

Signed

A U.S. Navy Pilot

ON SHEEP, WOLVES, AND SHEEPDOGS

By LTC(RET) Dave Grossman, RANGER, Ph.D., author of "On Killing."

Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself.

The question remains:
What is worth defending?
What is worth dying for?
What is worth living for?

- William J. Bennett - in a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997 One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: "Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident."

This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.

Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep. I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me, it is like the pretty, blue robin's egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers, and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.

"Then there are the wolves," the old war veteran said, "and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy." Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.

"Then there are sheepdogs," he went on, "and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf." If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero's path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.

Let me expand on this old soldier's excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids' schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports, in camouflage fatigues, holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa." Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door.

Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed, right along with the young ones.

Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into "warriorhood", you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference. There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage. Only one. And that is that he is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory crimes of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: Slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I'm proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.

Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, "Let's roll," which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people and parents. -- from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.

There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men. - Edmund Burke

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn't have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision. If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior's path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

For example, many police officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying a weapon. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to massacre you and your loved ones.

I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, "I will never be caught without my gun in church." I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a cop he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down fourteen people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy's body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, "Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?"

Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for "heads to roll" if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids' school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, "Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?"

It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up. Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: you didn't bring your gun, you didn't train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by your fear, helplessness and horror at your moment of truth.

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in "Fear Less", his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation: "...denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn't so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling." Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level. And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes. If you are warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be "on" 24/7, for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself... "Baa."

This business of being a sheep or a sheep dog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from "sheephood" and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.

"If It Weren't For The United States Military" "There Would Be NO United States of America"

I TOO AM PROUD TO BE A RETIRED SHEEPDOG. GOD BLESS AMERICA...

The Simple Truth

Learn these facts so you can properly debate the poor misguided ignorant blowhards.

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There were 39 combat related killings in Iraq during the month of January.....

In the fair city of Detroit there were 35 murders in the month of January.

That's just one American city, about as deadly as the entire war torn country of Iraq.

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When some claim that President Bush shouldn't have started this war, state the following:

Franklin D. Roosevelt ...

Led us into World War II. Germany never attacked us: Japan did.

From 1941-1945, 450,000 lives were lost, an average of 112,500 per year.

Harry Truman...

Finished that war and started one in Korea: North Korea never attacked us.

From 1950-1953, 55,000 lives were lost, an average of 18,334 per year.

John F. Kennedy...

Started the Vietnam conflict in 1962: Vietnam never attacked us.

Lyndon B. Johnson...

Turned Vietnam into a quagmire. From 1965-1975, 58,000 lives were lost, an average of 5,800 per year.

Bill Clinton...

Went to war in Bosnia without UN or French consent: Bosnia never attacked us.

He was offered Osama bin Laden's head on a platter three times by Sudan and did nothing.

Osama has attacked us on multiple occasions.

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In the two years since terrorists attacked us President Bush has...

Liberated two countries,

Crushed the Taliban,

Crippled al-Qaida,

Put nuclear inspectors in Libya, Iran and North Korea without firing a shot,

And, captured a terrorist who slaughtered 300,000 of his own people.

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The Democrats are complaining about how long the war is taking, but...

It took less time to take Iraq than it took Janet Reno to take the Branch Davidian compound.

That was a 51 day operation.

We've been looking for evidence of chemical weapons in Iraq for less time than it took Hillary Clinton to find the Rose Law Firm billing records.

It took less time for the 3rd Infantry Division and the Marines to destroy the Medina Republican Guard than it took Ted Kennedy to call the police after his Oldsmobile sank at Chappaquiddick.

It took less time to take Iraq than it took to count the votes in Florida!!!!

Our Commander-In-Chief is doing a GREAT JOB!

The Military moral is high!

The biased media hopes we are too ignorant to realize the facts.

THREE THINGS TO THINK ABOUT

1. COWS
2. THE CONSTITUTION
3. THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

COWS

Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that our government can track a cow born in Canada almost three years ago, right to the stall where she sleeps in the state of Washington? And, they tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering around our country. Maybe we should give them all a cow.

THE CONSTITUTION

They keep talking about drafting a Constitution for Iraq. Why don't we just give them ours? It was written by a lot of really smart guys, it's worked for over 200 years and we're not using it anymore.

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

The real reason that we can't have the Ten Commandments in a courthouse........ You cannot post "Thou Shalt Not Steal," "Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery" and "Thou Shall Not Lie" in a building full of lawyers, judges and politicians -- it creates a hostile work environment.

Military Rules for Non-Military Personnel

Dear Civilians, We know that the current state of affairs in our great nation have many civilians up in arms and excited to join the military. For those of you who can't join, you can still lend a hand. Here are a few of the areas where we would like your assistance:

(1) The next time you see an adult talking (or wearing a hat) during the playing of the National Anthem---kick their ass.

(2) When you witness, firsthand, someone burning the American Flag in protest---kick their ass.

(3) Regardless of the rank they held while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while a disabled veteran kicks their ass.

(4) (GUYS) If you were never in the military, DO NOT pretend that you were. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDUs), telling others that you used to be "Special Forces," and collecting GI Joe memorabilia, might have been okay when you were seven years old. Now, it will only make you look stupid and get your ass kicked.

(5) Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them, "Do you fly a jet?" Not everyone in the Air Force is a pilot. Such ignorance deserves an ass-kicking (children are exempt).

(6) If you witness someone calling the US Coast Guard 'non-military', inform them of their mistake---and kick their ass.

(7) Next time Old Glory (the US flag) prances by during a parade, get on your feet and pay homage to her by placing your hand over your heart.

Quietly thank the military member or veteran lucky enough to be carrying her---of course, failure to do either of those could earn you a severe ass-kicking.

(8) Don't try to discuss politics with a military member or a veteran.. We are Americans, and we all bleed the same, regardless of our party affiliation. Our Chain of Command is to include our Commander-In-Chief (CinC). The President (for those who didn't know) is our CinC regardless of political party. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives meet. All we know is that when those civilian representatives screw up the situation, they call upon the military to go straighten it out. If you keep asking us the same stupid questions repeatedly, you will get your ass kicked!

(9) 'Your mama wears combat boots' never made sense to me---stop saying it! If she did, she would most likely be a vet and therefore, could kick your ass!

(10) Bin Laden and the Taliban are not Communists, so stop saying 'Let's go kill those Commies!' And stop asking us where he is! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me---if you see anyone calling those damn psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can go kick their ass.

(11) 'Flyboy' (Air Force), 'Jarhead' (Marines), 'Grunt' (Army), 'Squid' (Navy), 'Puddle Jumpers' (Coast Guard), etc., are terms of endearment we use describing each other. Unless you are a service member or vet, you have not earned the right to use them. That could get your ass kicked.

(12) Last, but not least, whether or not you become a member of the military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and religious holiday that you enjoy with family and friends, please remember that there are literally thousands of sailors and troops far from home wishing they could be with their families. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they make every day. Without them, our country would get its ass kicked."

(13) PLEASE DO NOT ASK IF WE HAVE KILLED PEOPLE, OR HOW MANY PEOPLE WE HAVE KILLED, BECAUSE IT IS A JOB, AND THE PEOPLE WE KILL HAVE FAMILIES TO. IF WE HAPPEN TO HAVE BEEN FORCED INTO THAT SITUATION BEFORE, ODDS ARE WE DONT LIKE TALKING ABOUT IT, SO DONT ASK.

Magic Hornet Ride

Enjoy your flight...

Freedom Isn't Free

I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze.
A young Marine saluted it,
and then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
so young, so tall, so proud,
with hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought how many men like him
had fallen through the years.
How many died on foreign soil
how many mothers' tears?
How many pilots' planes shot down?
How many died at sea
how many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, freedom isn't free.

I heard the sound of Taps one night,
when everything was still;
I listened to the bugler play
and felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen, "
When a flag had draped a coffin.
Of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the children,
of the mothers and the wives,
of fathers, sons and husbands
with interrupted lives.
Thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea
of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, freedom isn't free.

Enjoy Your Freedom & God Bless Our Troops

The American Fighting Man

The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected unemployment either.

He's a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten-year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away.

He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and 155mm howitzer. He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk.

He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.

He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop or stop until he is told to march. He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry; he sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle.

He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low. He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because that is his job.

He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he should have in his short lifetime. He has stood atop mountains of dead bodies, and helped to create them. He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed.

He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking.

In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful. Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy.

He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years. He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding. Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.

As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot: A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets.

Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Sailor, Coastguardsman, Marine or Airman, prayer is the very best one.

"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen."

eMail Our Military

eMail Our Military (eMOM) is a free service providing a safe way for people to continue the tradition of "Any Service Member" mail with a much more personal touch - email! This is your opportunity to let America's military know how much you appreciate what they do on our behalf 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.

eMail Our Military was created as a response to the DoD's cancellation of the "Any Service Member" and "Operation Dear Abby" mail programs in 2001. Because service members request correspondence through eMail Our Military, we don't send unsolicited email or mail and are not affected by the DoD's recent press release. eMOM's founder is the daughter of a veteran, wife of a military service member and has been supporting troops since 1991!

We hope you'll find eMail Our Military a positive place to support America's troops, show your Pride in America, and as President Bush suggested, get involved in the effort right from the comfort of your own home.

In-Flight Refueling

So far I’ve shared both a Night and a Day Trap with you. Today it’s my pleasure to share another little piece of my history with you – In-flight Refueling.

This clip is part of a home video that I compiled while serving aboard the USS Constellation in 1989. Other clips from that same video include Day and Night Traps.

What I would have given for digital video 20 years ago…

Day Trap

Video of a Carrier Landing.

Since I gave you a Night Trap, I may as well give you a Day Trap too.

All we had for personal use back in 1989 was big, crappy VHS cameras, hence the aging, crappy quality of this video.

Night Trap

Video of a Carrier Landing - at night.

Sometimes I take my past for granted. To me, it's just something that I used to do - kind of like an old job that I got tired of and quit. But to others, it's something very special. And not very many people get to do it. So I'm sharing it with you here, now.

Priceless

Hot Bunks for Prisons

Senator Robert L. Geddes, Jr.
State Capitol Building
P.O. Box 83720,Dist 31
Boise, ID 83720-0054

Dear Mr. Geddes,

I’m writing you today to express support of your idea to have inmates work in shifts and share their bunks with other inmates. I think it’s an excellent idea!

As you may already be aware, everyday, all over the world, volunteers serving in the U.S. Navy are “Hot Bunking”. Hot Bunking is when there are more sailors on a ship than there are beds. In this case, sailors have an assigned period of time for when they are allowed in the bed, and under worse case conditions, three sailors are sharing the same rack each day for 8 hours each. This practice is called Hot Bunking because the bed is still warm from the previous guy when you go to lay down in it. This arrangement is far more common on submarines, where space is at a premium and often reserved for weapons, or engineering.

Hot Bunking aboard a submarine is even less desirable because sheets and laundry are only washed once a week. So all three guys are sharing the same sheets for an entire week! Worse yet, showers are limited, so the sheets can get very, shall we say, undesirable by weeks end. Again, prisoners would have it easy compared to our volunteer submariners.

If Hot Bunking is good enough for volunteers serving our country in the U.S. Navy, under conditions far worse than those experienced in our local prisons; than Hot Bunking is good enough for those that have chosen to commit crimes against our community.

Hot Bunking is an excellent way to cut down on the comforts of prison life; make more room in prisons; all without raising taxes, or building more prisons. It’s a shame the media hasn’t taken more time and effort to explore and report on this facet of military service.

Great Quote

I can’t find any proof that this is a real quote. And I’m pretty sure CNN knows how to spell Al Qaeda (I’ve preserved the misspelling of Al Qaeda in the quote below – which is the way I received it via email). So I’m guessing this isn’t really from CNN, and it’s probably a great big email hoax. But I love it anyway, so I’m sharing it with you here.

[From the Internet]

December 9, 2005 (CNN) While interviewing an anonymous US Special Forces soldier, a Reuters News agent asked the soldier what he felt when sniping members of Al Quaeda in Afghanistan.

The soldier shrugged and replied, "Recoil."

Is it real, of just the clever work of a prankster?

Who cares, it’s great either way!

I Am Coming!

[Found on the Internet]

Dear Terrorists,

I am a Navy Aviator. I was born and raised in a small town in New England. I come from a family of five. I was raised in a middle class home and taught my values by my mother and father.

My dad worked a series of jobs in finance and my mom took care of us kids. We were not an overly religious family but attended church most Sundays. It was a nice small Episcopal Church. I have a brother and sister and I am the youngest in my family. I was the first in many generations to attend college.

I have flown Naval aircraft for 16 years. For me the flying was never a lifelong dream or a "calling," it just happened. I needed a job and I liked the challenge. I continue to do it today because I feel it is important to give back to a nation which has given so much to me. I do it because, although I will never be rich, my family will be comfortable.

I do it because many of my friends have left for the airlines and someone has to do it.

My government has spent millions to train me to fly these multi-million dollar aircraft. I make about 70,000 dollars a year and after 20 years will be offered a pension.

I like baseball but think the players make too much money. I am in awe of firemen and policemen and what they do each day for my community, and like teachers, they just don't get paid enough.

I respect my elders and always use sir or ma'am when addressing a stranger. I'm not sure about kids these days but I think that's normal for every generation.

I voted for George Bush because I like him. I think I made a pretty good choice.

I tell you all this because when I come for you, I want you to know me. I won't be hiding behind a woman or a child. I won't be disguised or pretending to be something I am not. I will be in a U.S. issue flight suit. I will be wearing standard US issue flight gear, and I will be flying a navy aircraft clearly marked as a US warplane. I wish we could meet up close in a small room where I could wrap my hands around your throat and slowly squeeze the life out of you, but unfortunately, you're hiding in a hole in the ground, so we will have to do this a different way.

I want you to know also that I am very good at what I do. I can put a 2,000 lb weapon through a window from 10,000 feet up. I generally only fly at night, so you may want to start sleeping during the day. I am not eager to die for my country but I am willing to sacrifice my life to protect it from animals like you.

I will do everything in my power to ensure no civilians are hurt as I take aim at you.

My countrymen are a forgiving bunch. Many are already forgetting what you did on Sept 11th. But I will not forget, and my President will not forget.

I am coming. I