RCT-1 Combat Team (The gruntys)
Deployed to Camp Fallujah, Iraq in support
of Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Deployed to Camp Fallujah, Iraq in support
of Operation Iraqi Freedom.
20080414-2BN24MAR-MURPHY-TIPS003low
http://fearless1stmarines.vox.com/
Hello Mr. Coffey..
Mike L.. below sent me a copy of you PDF file "These Are My Credentials" today ... and I was so moved by what you were trying to express I put a show together .. not verbatim ... but close. I did add a few photos that was not part of the sequence in your pdf send.. including some fly boys..
That last picture on close is Col. Ted Guy..
The Ranger pic - see http://www.soft-vision.com/ranger
Music I chose by Manowar.. ( lyrics are below )
url: http://www.soft-vision.com/warriors
Thank you for making those who read FEEL what you put in that file..
Hope the movie does your work justice.
Thank you for your service & Welcome Home..
Download the PDF File that lit our fire to do this flash show: These Are My Credentials
Warriors Of The World (United)
Here our soldiers stand from all around the world
Waiting in a line to hear the battle cry
All are gathered here, victory is near
The sound will fill the hall, bringing power to us all
We alone are fighting for metal that is true
We own the right to live the fight, we're here for all of you
Now swear the blood upon your steel will never dry
Stand and fight together beneath the battle sky
[Chorus:]
Brothers everywhere - raise your hands into the air
We're warriors, warriors of the world
Like thunder from the sky - sworn to fight and die
We're warriors, warriors of the world
Many stand against us, but they will never win
We said we would return and here we are again
To bring them all destruction, suffering and pain
We are the hammer of the gods, we are thunder, wind and rain.
There they wait in fear with swords in feeble hands
With dreams to be a king, first one should be a man
I call about and charge them all with a life that is a lie
And in their final hour they shall confess before they die
[Repeat chorus]
If I should fall in battle, my brothers who fight by my side
Gather my horse and weapons, tell my family how I died
Until then I will be strong, I will fight for all that is real
All who stand in my way will die by steel
Brothers everywhere - raise your hands into the air
We're warriors, warriors of the world
[Repeat chorus to fade]
Here our soldiers stand from all around the world
Waiting in a line to hear the battle cry
All are gathered here, victory is near
The sound will fill the hall, bringing power to us all
We alone are fighting for metal that is true
We own the right to live the fight, we're here for all of you
Now swear the blood upon your steel will never dry
Stand and fight together beneath the battle sky
[Chorus:]
Brothers everywhere - raise your hands into the air
We're warriors, warriors of the world
Like thunder from the sky - sworn to fight and die
We're warriors, warriors of the world
Many stand against us, but they will never win
We said we would return and here we are again
To bring them all destruction, suffering and pain
We are the hammer of the gods, we are thunder, wind and rain.
There they wait in fear with swords in feeble hands
With dreams to be a king, first one should be a man
I call about and charge them all with a life that is a lie
And in their final hour they shall confess before they die
[Repeat chorus]
If I should fall in battle, my brothers who fight by my side
Gather my horse and weapons, tell my family how I died
Until then I will be strong, I will fight for all that is real
All who stand in my way will die by steel
Brothers everywhere - raise your hands into the air
We're warriors, warriors of the world
[Repeat chorus to fade]
Dedication of Lest they be Forgotten Memorial
To all who can attend and to those who will be with us in heart and prayer . . . .May 10th (Saturday) 3:00 pm
I have attached the flyer and a couple of pictures of Andrew.
To all we miss, to all we love, to all we could not do without, to all who have reached out and touched our hearts.
The Dauls
Mike, Kathy, Audrey and Lindsey and Eddie Kelly.
|
Never Forgotten: Army Spc. Andrew Daul |
Army Spc. Andrew Daul, 21, received a hero's send-off at his funeral
service Friday at Shepherd of the Lakes Lutheran Church in Brighton
Township.A 50-foot flag draped between two ladder trucks greeted those who came to say good-bye to the 2003 Brighton High School graduate who died Dec. 19 in Iraq when an improvised explosive device went off near his tank. More than 100 members of the Patriot Guard riders stood silently outside, holding flags, and created a gauntlet leading up to the church. Numerous military personnel attended the service, which drew more than 200 people.
While recognizing the outpouring of support, the Rev. Frank Graves spoke of the bonds that never die — a mother's love for her son, and Jesus' love for us.
"The man serving this country is still your baby boy," Graves said, looking at Kathy Daul of Brighton Township, the soldier's mother, sitting in the front row with her family.
"There is no love like a mother's love," Graves said.
"You say you will miss most cuddling your son," he said.
Graves then spoke to the family members about what they told him they would miss about Andrew Daul, who was a bodybuilder and so was very muscular. He said Michael Daul, the soldier's father, would miss his son's sense of humor, and younger sister, Lindsey, would miss the brother-sister talks. He said the youngest child, Audrey, would miss the "tickle torture."
Graves said it's amazing how quickly life passes, and how the parents remembered their son's birth like it was yesterday.
"You didn't see any headache," he said.
Andrew Daul was known as the "feisty kid in the neighborhood," according to Graves. He said the soldier was a little reckless and a bit of daredevil, but "in a good way." Before the parents realized it, their son was moving from his first car into his first tank.
Lindsey Daul thanked the community for all its support before talking about her older brother.
"He was the best big brother we could have asked for," said Lindsey Daul, a 2004 Brighton High School graduate.
Although she didn't see him as much during the last three years while he served in the U.S. Army, she thought of him often.
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," she said.
She also mentioned her older brother's reckless streak, which included a wrecked car and caused some stress in her parents' life.
Graves also thanked the community for reaching out to the Daul family with food, hugs, letter and e-mails. Firefighters from the Brighton Area Fire Department and Howell Fire Department showed their support by draping a 50-foot-long American flag from two ladder trucks in front of the church, and then displaying the flag across Grand River Avenue as the casket procession went by.
"You are loved and not alone," he said.
He then raised an interesting question about all the community's support.
"What would it be like if we put this much love and energy into each day?" Graves asked.
"We'd have no war," he said.
Graves also shared with the crowd that Andrew Daul's death was part of several tragedies for the family, and how it must be testing their faith. He said the Dauls had experienced the loss of several family members and learned that Kathy Daul has cancer.
"Just keep your eyes on Jesus," he told the family. Life serves up struggles and hardships, he said,and he recognized the family's hearts must be broken at this time at the loss of their son.
"Even when all life fails, Jesus never does," Graves said. "So keep your eyes on him."
A silent slide show created by the soldier's best friend captured him as a teenager riding his go-kart, looking over a wrecked car and proudly wearing his military uniform while serving in Iraq.
Andrew Daul enlisted in the Army immediately after high school. After completing training as a crewman on the Abrams tank, he was assigned to an armored division in Germany.
During his first tour of Iraq, Daul saw action in Baghdad and Karbala. He began serving his second tour in Iraq earlier this year. After completing his military service, he was looking forward to working at his father's firm, buying a home and pursuing his interest in bodybuilding.
U.S. Rep. Mike Rogers, R-Brighton, told the audience it was an honor to stand there and pay his respects to a "patriot."
Not only did he help his fellow soldiers, but Rogers said Andrew Daul helped Iraqis while serving in that country. Because of soldiers like him, Rogers said, Iraqis would talk about the greatness of the U.S. soldier, and he read a letter from a mayor of an Iraqi town liberated by U.S. soldiers.
"Their sacrifice was not in vain," Rogers read aloud from the mayor's letter. "Let the world be proud of their sacrifice for humanity."
In his final words, Rogers said, "I stand today to offer a nation's thank you for a great soldier."
Brig. Gen. John R. Bartley said everyone in uniform shares in the family's sorrow. He read letters from fellow soldiers who praised Andrew Daul as a great soldier. He then presented the family with the the soldier's Combat Action badge, Bronze Star and Purple Heart.
Lawrence Marinelli of South Lyon joined the Patriot Guard riders who stood outside with U.S. flags.
"It's just support for a fallen soldier," said Marinelli, a veteran and member of Rolling Thunder, a group that supports veterans and prisoners of war.
Jim Kehres of Monroe said the Patriot Guard doesn't show up unless requested by the family.
Kehres said he showed up to honor a soldier.
"He stood for us, we'll stand for him," Kehres said.
Lindsey Daul said her brother lived a full life.
"I think he lived every day as if it was the last," she said.
She said her brother was a hero and proud of his mission and what he was doing in Iraq. As she looked upon his flag-draped casket, she said her final words to him.
"He's home today," she said.
|
Never Forgotten: 1Lt Shaun Blue USMC (UNCLASSIFIED) |
From Stan Horton, Col. of Marines (USMC-Ret)
To: ALL REAL PATRIOTS - EXCLUDING ALL HIPPIES & THEIR DISGUSTING "CUT & RUN POLITICAL COWARDS" !
Thank You, 1st Lt. Shaun Blue and your family for your sacrifice. You will never be forgotten.
Stan Horton, Col. of Marines (USMC-Ret), Houston, TX, Vietnam Vet.
Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
Caveats: NONE
Thank You, 1st Lt. Shaun Blue, For A Life Of Integrity And Service:
Source: http://www.csmonitor.com/2008/0416/p09s01-coop.html?page=1#
Do Americans truly appreciate the sacrifice that this Marine made on their behalf?
By Luke Larson
from the April 16, 2008 edition
Scottsdale, Ariz. - It's been a year since I first heard the news. I was in Kuwait on April 17, 2007, preparing for my second tour in Iraq when I stopped to call my wife on the way to the chow hall. I'll never forget her crying when she told me that Shaun Blue, a fellow Marine lieutenant and a very close personal friend, had been killed in combat the day before in Iraq's Anbar Province.
I first met Shaun Blue in Quantico, Va., at Officer Candidate School, when he ran the initial three-mile portion of the physical fitness test (PFT) in 16 minutes. He finished first on the run, two minutes faster than his closest competitor.
When we arrived back in Quantico to attend The Basic School, Blue and I were assigned to the same squad, where I soon realized he could not only ace the Marine Corps PFT but every challenge the instructors tried to throw at him.
A top performer – and a helping hand
I've been told that three qualities that make a good Marine Corps officer are intellect, force of will, and character – with character being the most important. Blue showed me on several occasions he had all three attributes.
Though I struggled to get through the very challenging Infantry Officer Course, Blue seemed to glide through the difficulties effortlessly.
In these situations, other officers who probably looked better on paper than Blue crumbled under the mental and physical pressures. When we were tired, when it was cold and wet – that is when Blue excelled.
He was consistently the first person to push the rest of us through those dark nights, a testament to his desire to support his peers. In the very competitive environment of a military school, Blue rose to the top 10 percent of the class with his intellect and force of will.
Ironically, Blue's selfless character is what kept him from being the No. 1 graduate. He could have easily surpassed the other top performers, but he did not care about merits of achievement or superficial accolades – he cared about doing the right thing.
Instead of spending the extra hour on his own work to be the No. 1 guy, he would spend that hour helping the subpar performers reach the level they needed to pass the course. More important, he helped shape them into good infantry officers who would go on to lead men into combat. Blue had character.
He attended the University of Southern California on a Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps Scholarship. The philosophy major's grandfather, a World War II Marine veteran, influenced his decision to join the military.
Standing in Kuwait that day in April 2007, I said a silent prayer for my friend. After taking a deep breath, I decided I would mourn his death only after my own unit made it through our deployment.
My unit finished its deployment in November, and I returned to civilian life in the United States last month. It was only then that I began to mourn and truly take stock of Blue.
It had been almost a year since Blue's death in Iraq when I received a letter from his unit that he had been posthumously awarded the Bronze Star with "V" for valor combat distinguishing device. Many times during his service in Iraq, Blue exposed himself in dangerous situations to accomplish missions with the fledgling Iraqi police.
Honoring a Bronze Star winner
To honor Blue's Bronze Star, several fellow Marines and I decided to make the trip to Munster, Ind., to see Blue's parents and pay our final respects to our lost friend.
On the way to Blue's parents' house earlier this month, I noticed a billboard on Ridge Road heading into Munster that said: "IN MEMORY OF 1ST LT SHAUN BLUE UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS."
At Jim and Debbie Blue's house, I had the honor of listening to several other Marines who served with Blue tell his parents fond memories of their son.
There was the time when Blue's truck broke down 30 miles outside the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center in Twentynine Palms, Calif., on the very day he was supposed to report into his first fleet unit. With limited options, Blue ran all 30 miles into town and checked into his unit.
There was the other time when a tough sergeant challenged him to a boxing match. Normally, it would be best for a green lieutenant with little to no boxing experience to avoid stepping into the ring against a golden-glove boxer who had beaten everyone in the entire platoon. After continued nagging, Blue knocked out the veteran boxer with his first punch.
On April 5, several lieutenants who had flown in from around the country headed to Munster's Community Veterans Memorial Park. Each of us expressed surprise that Munster's memorial park, filled with lifelike sculptures of soldiers in action, rivaled any monument we've seen in the nation's capital.
At the ceremony, Blue's parents were awarded his well-deserved Bronze Star, one of the military's highest awards. After the presentation, the crowd walked through the park grounds on a red brick path, observing the monuments to wars past. Near the middle of the path, there is now a brick dedicated to Blue. Very close by is another brick dedicated to his grandfather, Marine veteran Cecil T. Blue. I'm certain that Blue's bedrock character was in a large part influenced by his elderly mentor, whom he spoke of often.
A face of character etched in stone
After walking through Memorial Park, we walked over to a beautiful brick pavilion. In the middle of the exhibit is a permanent display of black polished granite that reflects images almost as clearly as a mirror.
Etched into the polished stone is a picture of Blue in his dress blues. As I looked into the granite, I locked eyes with the engraving of Blue and had to pull away because I was hit by a wave of emotions I had never felt before. As I tried to gather my composure, Blue's mother, Debbie, came over and gave me a hug. I felt selfish. I should have been comforting her. She lost her son and here she was comforting me. I saw again where Blue had gotten his most important leadership trait. The entire Blue family has character.
On the way back to the Blue household, another lieutenant and I discussed what a shame it was that Blue had been killed. Our conversation then shifted to how only a small proportion of the American public truly carries the burden of this war.
The other lieutenant commented that while soldiers are risking their lives in Iraq, the majority of Americans are at the mall, oblivious to the sacrifices the military personnel and their families are making on a daily basis. In no time, the atmosphere in the car got very bitter.
Standing ovation at Kilroy's Pub
To lighten the mood, we pulled into Kilroy's Pub & Restaurant in Lansing, Ill., just outside Munster.
Inside, about 30 local patrons stopped talking simultaneously and stared at us. We were, after all, wearing our Marine Corps dress blues. When we tried to buy two beers, several locals fought over who would get to buy us the drinks.
We sat down next to a local who introduced himself as "Sticks." He asked us why we were in town. We told him. Sticks stood up and asked for the bar's attention. He announced the reason for our visit and then everyone in the room stood and gave us a lengthy ovation. They had heard of Blue. We had to practically fight to get out of the bar and back on our way to Blue's parents' house.
During the drive, the other lieutenant and I decided that although the rest of the country might not care, people in the small towns definitely appreciate the military's sacrifice. We decided that the majority of the country is not anti-military. They are just indifferent and largely unaware of the enormous burden that the young men and women in service carry in the name of their freedoms.
Consequences of pulling out of Iraq
Five years after the start of the Iraq war, and a year after Blue's death on April 16, I feel we are obligated to the Iraqi people and the rest of the world to not hastily abandon what we have invested so much in. I truly believe America can be an agent for change. I have often asked myself: If we pull out, what type of future would we be allowing to come about?
Sometimes I feel alone in my reasoning. That day in Munster I did not. That day I was proud to be a Marine and proud to be an American.
I like to think that if the streets of heaven are guarded by Marines, as the Marines' hymn suggests, that 1st Lieutenant Shaun Blue is now forever walking the lines of the perimeter checking on the Marines defending their eternal post.
• Luke Larson served two tours in Iraq as a Marine lieutenant with the Third Battalion, Seventh Marine Regiment. He now lives in Scottsdale, Ariz., with his wife, Kristen. They're expecting a child this November. If it's a boy, they plan to name him Blue.
Classification: UNCLASSIFIED
Caveats: NONE
|
1st Lt. Shaun M. Blue |
1st Lt. Shaun M. Blue
Hometown: Munster, Indiana, U.S.
Age: 25 years old
Died: April 16, 2007 in Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Unit: Marines, 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, Twentynine Palms, Calif.
Incident: Killed while conducting combat operations in Anbar Province.
A ‘PLANET IN PERIL’,
A NATION SCAMMED AND WARRIORS ONCE AGAIN FORGOTTEN
A NATION SCAMMED AND WARRIORS ONCE AGAIN FORGOTTEN
I
just watched Al Gore’s award winning ‘documentary’ and I am once again
amazed at how much our media and some ‘leaders’ can make out of
nothing. First he forgot what the old General said; ‘Want to sell it?
Get a professional briefer.’ The Pillsbury Dough-boy(He was a military
man you know) delivers like a fifth grader and his logic is not just
questionable but criminal. It ranks right up there with the recycle
scam that put another big plastic container next toyour house. This was
based on a bogus claim that we were running out of landfill space and
they were emitting dangerous methane gas. Our landfills are the safest
in the world and the methane is a real moneymaker and piped and pumped
off and sold. We are paying for this scam in taxes to the tune of eight
billion dollars per year. You think you are making money by taking your
plastic and aluminum to the recycle site? Your taxes are paying for it.Now in California your local market makes you pay for a plastic bag for your groceries and a deposit on those little drink containers for the kids; ‘ To save the environment.’ No pal, you will throw a certain number in the recycle bin and your taxes will pay for a company to hire people at a mandated wage to sort the junk and some is processed to be remade but a full forty percent goes into, you guessed it, the landfill. If you lose a bottle on the street and a bum impersonating a Vietnam Veteran, of course, collects it, you get to pay twice when he takes it down to the recycler paid for by your taxes and the market justpockets your deposit. We are a stupid people.
A former Vice President shows video of Los Angeles back in the sixties during a ‘Smog Alert’ and lets you believe they were taken yesterday. No, that is what much of the rest of the world looks like because they still burn trash downtown and refuse to mandate cleaner fuels. These are the same countries we are going to buy ‘emission credits’ from, so Al Gore can sell you an electric car. But Al and the left make it sound like we are environmental criminals robbing the rest of the world of ‘their share.’ They are driving Mercedes and BMW and they got ‘their share’ by stealing the copyright of every American invention. But only you my fellow Americans, who gave the world the technology and US taxpayer money to recover from war and to advance, are to blame for ‘Global Warming’ and ‘holes in the ozone layer.’ Notice the prevalence of bugs you never saw or only in limited quantities before? Malaria and other vile diseases are making a huge comeback, even on our continent. Why is this happening? It is pretty simple if one merely looks at the huge outcry by different groups about DDT and other bug killers; ‘This beetle is going to be extinct because of man.’ Then we find out that the beetle was never threatened at all and if it were I would still smash it if it got in my cupboard.
They are at every mall with their hand out and tell us the children are starving in Africa or Asia and it is our fault. Then I get taxed here at home because our politicians want me to pay for a ‘starving’ or ‘undernourished’ child, sired by another, to get a free lunch at school. If this is actually true, about hungry American children, then why is collecting money for Africans, while ours have no lunch, not a crime? I reside, for the most part, in Asia and begging is a business. I exercise early enough, in the morning, to see the van drop off the ‘poor’ to beg. I have seen children drugged, starved and even blinded to be used as bait in begging. ‘Global Warming’, DDT, defoliants and American bombing in a long ago war did not produce these ‘victims’their local boss did but we pay. Around the world WE ARE THE VICTIMS of a scam and Al Gore is but a front-man for a criminal element which has sent us on a guilt-trip about people in the Amazon cutting their own forests and Asians trying to make money by sawing on shells and bombs that everyone of them knows can kill them. My honest opinion? If you are that stupid then the bomb/shell is gone and so is another fool who has been told the danger. Ninety percent of ‘Global Warming’, ‘millions of landmines’, disappearing species and America as the ‘Bad Guy’ are all part of an elaborate scam to steal our money and make us militarily impotent.
In four decades overseas and going to the grocer I have never heard ‘ paper or plastic’? I get ten plastic bags every trip. Nobody would dare try to charge me for the bags. The guy who wants to trade in my plastic or aluminum cans digs through the trash and is grateful to have them. I require no separate bin. While PETA screams that we are to blame for everything happening to animals foreign hunters are killing them and we get the blame. They get tired of a dog, they drop it off in an alley and they join mange-ridden packs of vicious mongrels. When governments try to clean up the problem the local branch of PETA shows up and screams that they are killing the dogs. Then they claim that guys like me are to blame because I have a pedigree dog and have not taken in a mutt. I just knew the white guy from America would somehow get blamed. Is this an Asian bias towards us? No but some fat white woman in sensible shoes told them we were to blame and they have all seen Al Gore on a pirated VCD.
Not long ago a young relative of mine stood in a street in Iraq and protected his Platoon under withering fire.His Platoon Leader wrote of his heroism in glowing terms. He was shot three times,once through the leg,once through the hand('Follow Me'?) and again through the scrotum(OUCH!). He was decorated with the Bronze Star and Purple Heart. He is,of course, most proud of earning the Combat Infantry Badge to wear over his Jump Wings. But if we believe our fight for our wounded Vietnam Veterans solved the problem,think again. A board,constituted of his fellow Soldiers of superior rank,decided to 'recycle' this Army loving Corporal back to civilian life. They initially deemed his two gunshot wounds to hand and thigh to be worth ten percent disability and after some pointed comments raised this to twenty percent( At thirty percent it is a whole different ballgame). The Army Board claimed that the record was incomplete from the Naval hospital in Iraq, which treated the wounds initially, about the obvious wound through his scrotum. They claimed this young NCO bore the responsibility to get the rest of his records from Iraq;' If you are ever in Ramadi again,stop by the hospital and check for your gonad records,Ha, Ha, Ha'! So he will be 'recycled' back to civilian life like an old plastic bottle. They seem willing to pay for recycled plastic,paper and aluminum but even our Army is reluctant to pay for a recycled Soldier.Perhaps he is viewed as simply 'damaged goods' now. But I must tell you that the American Government,the US Army and the Veterans Administration will care more about this American Soldier and all wounded American warriors than any darned penguin sitting on an iceberg by the time I and mine are finished.
Before we give one dime to buy a bogus 'Global Warming' credit from some unappreciative foreign land, they better take care of wounded warriors. Whoever our next President might be and fat-boy Gore may consider this as a warning shot across their bow. Recycle that Sucker!
So Al baby take your bogus award and sit on it. Then get yourself a professional briefer before you try to tell me about the ‘sky is falling’ and thank a Soldier in an airport en-route to your corporate jet or limo. After all he pays in blood and sweat for you to get rich on your scams in the only nation dumb enough to buy it.That Soldier,Marine,Sailor or Airman will not complain. This time he won't have to because we who have borne the battle before will take care of this and any politician or media member who does not listen. Check John Kerry and Dan Rather for our references.
Major Mark A.Smith,USA,(Ret)
This is being sent BCCThought many of you would like to see this picture that I forgot that we had. Cee found it while looking through a lot of our old disk.
The picture was taken about 3 years ago on base at Camp Lejeune.. Bet you can't guess who it is that is with "The Grunt"
Became friends with this person that day and we talked and the like for sometime. I told them that it ws my honor and their reply to me was, "No - It is My Honor"
Who would have ever thunk it:
Robert Cody The Grunt
American Patriots
Quang Tri, Vietnam 1967
Death Before Dishonor
The following is the 2007 winning entry from an annual contest at Texas A&M University calling for the most appropriate definition of a contemporary term.
This year a definition required for the contemporary term, 'Political Correctness'.
The winner wrote:
'Political Correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a delusional, illogical minority, and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous mainstream media, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end.'
Semper Fi,
Mike
https://www.archangelsandwitticism.com/Home_Page.php
http://crosshairs.archangelsandwitticism.com/
VETERANS RADIO
This Saturday 26 April 2008 ----- 0900 hours (9:00am) Eastern
War is hell…that’s why we have the “DOC”
The grunts will tell you the “Docs” were the bravest men they ever knew, and this Saturday you will learn why. Join host Gary Lillie as he interviews Army Medic Ray Essenmacher and Navy Corpsman Rick Whitsen; both of them combat ‘docs’ of the Vietnam War. Their stories will be graphic; and may wring out raw emotion. One thing is for sure; once you hear the stories they tell, you will thank every military person and veteran you meet for your freedom.
Tune in Saturday morning on WMAX (1440-AM, Saginaw), WDEO (990-AM, Ann Arbor/Detroit), WDEO-FM (99.5 FM, Naples, FL) or on the Internet at Click Here for Veterans Radio Info
Call us if you have any questions or comments Saturdays at 877-573-7825
Veterans Radio is dedicated to all the men and women who have served or are currently serving in the armed forces of the United States of America. Our mission is to provide all veterans with a voice, to give them a forum where they are able to discuss their issues…and tell their stories.
Press Start below to play
This video:below - "Warriors - These are My Credentials" is best viewed here:
Warriors: These Are My Credentials
___________________________________________________________________________ These are from Saturday, March 22nd, at the USMC Officer Selection Office in Berkeley. There was a massive pro-troop rally. Eagles Up paid for the permit (code pink has one for free from the city council),
but there were members from a variety of organizations including Move America Forward, and the Patriot Guard Riders.
There were also regulars, like a group of Berkeley High School students
who come by regularly to support the troops, and local folks active on conservative forums like Free Republic. I was only there for part of the event - they met in a local city,
bought gas and supplies for the day, then entered Berkeley. I caught up
with them when they had mostly arrived in Berkeley. There were speeches
(focusing on support of the troops, the wish for the Berkeley City Council to apologize for their hateful words, and the fact that all
these folks are boycotting Berkeley goods), and singing, and generally
it was a big social get-together. They collected up all the receipts of all the stuff they'd bought in other cities that day to present to the mayor on Monday. Frankly most of these folks are further to the right than me (just
because I look like a conservative when I write about Code Pink doesn't mean I wouldn't be a moderate anywhere else) and it's clear some of these folks have colorful histories but I'll tell you - I've never felt safer in Berkeley. I'll also warn you - this is going to be a bit of a long report (three parts). It was a big crowd and hard to capture all at once, so you're going to get it in bits and pieces. Update: Thanks for the links - this report's making the rounds, and I'll see if I can find all the references later, but it's hard not to notice Michelle Malkin, and Gateway Pundit. Before I do my usual establishing shots, this should give you a good feel for the day in short form
If you can't make that out, that's "Code Stink, we are" and then on their signs "Thoughtless Hypocrite", "Law Breaker" and "Lazy Unemployed".
The page has the definition of an apology.
Walking towards the office - blocks away - I started seeing collections of bikes. Locals will recognize Bongo Burger - it's a ways away from the office. Basically it's impossible to get a count because
the bikes were all over the city, and the people were coming and going,
but, well, you'll see the turnout...
Right side...
Left side... Well, actually you won't see the turnout, because I
don't have a lens wide enough and even if I did there was no one place
to even see the whole thing. But you get the idea. My best guess is about 500 people, but again, it was hard to count - you would think that was it and then another 50 motorcycles would zip by looking for parking. And remember, that's a tiny fraction of the bikes...
...see the orange sign for the Gelato place - it's blocks away, and the other side of the street had just as many bikes if not more. And I have shots of bikes in lots of places - I just chose this and the Bongo Burger shot because locals will recognize them. Update: Somebody with one of those little hand counter clicker
things (you know the ones) counted bikes as they left Emeryville, and
there were 350 bikes. Now, lots of folks just went directly to Berkeley
or drove a car or took the subway, but my estimate of 500 might
actually be low, if anything. I haven't seen any local media commit to
a number but I've seen them mention it was larger than the anti-war
protests we had on the 5th anniversary of the war.
OK, back to the event.
So to start, people were just hanging out. No shortage of flags of course.
And people driving by honked and waved. Some folks flashed their hats, others VA cards.
I don't feel that most of the signs need commentary so don't be shocked if I don't write something after every one.
There was a decent amount of media there.
Lots of folks clearly knew each other and were making new friends as well. OK, on to page two of three for singers, speakers, and Code Pink's massive counter response (all four of them). __________________________________________________________ Members of Eagles Up, Move America Forward, Patriot Guard Riders and
many more pro-troop citizens rolled into Berkeley today to give speeches, sing songs, wave flags, hold up signs, and send a message.
Doug Lyvere, Eagles Up organizer said: “We expect a massive crowd to send a message to the city of
Berkeley, Code Pink and any other anti-military group that Americans are sick and tired of their hateful, dangerous behavior.” If you are not familiar with Eagles Up, here is their Mission Statement: 1. Pursue every opportunity, within our means, to actively standup,
support, and defend, the principles embodied in our United States Constitution. 2. Support our warriors in harms way, around the world, and their
families, with a fervor worthy of their sacrificial service for our freedom. 3. Honor and protect the memorials to our fallen, missing, and support their loved ones. Here is the Patriot Guard Riders mission statement: The Patriot Guard Riders is a diverse amalgamation of riders from
across the nation. We have one thing in common besides motorcycles. We
have an unwavering respect for those who risk their very lives for
America’s freedom and security. If you share this respect, please join
us. We don’t care what you ride or if you ride, what your political
views are, or whether you’re a hawk or a dove. It is not a requirement
that you be a veteran. It doesn’t matter where you’re from or what your
income is; you don’t even have to ride. The only prerequisite is
Respect. Our main mission is to attend the funeral services of fallen
American heroes as invited guests of the family. Each mission we
undertake has two basic objectives. 1. Show our sincere respect for our fallen heroes, their families, and their communities. 2. Shield the mourning family and their friends from interruptions created by any protestor or group of protestors. We accomplish the latter through strictly legal and non-violent means. To those of you who are currently serving and fighting for the
freedoms of others, at home and abroad, please know that we are backing
you. We honor and support you with every mission we carry out, and we are praying for a safe return home for all. Protestshooter was there, and I have posted some of his pictures here, see the rest of the pictures HERE. He had this to say about the event in Berkeley today: I was only there for part of the event - they met in a local city,
bought gas and supplies for the day, then entered Berkeley. I caught up
with them when they had mostly arrived in Berkeley. There were speeches (focusing on support of the troops, the wish for the Berkeley City Council to apologize for their hateful words, and the fact that all
these folks are boycotting Berkeley goods), and singing, and generally
it was a big social get-together. They collected up all the receipts of all the stuff they’d bought in other cities that day to present to the
mayor on Monday. I’ve never felt safer in Berkeley. Nods to Protestshooter for the pictures. Protestshooter pics:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
This video:below - "Warriors - These are My Credentials" is best viewed here:
Warriors: These Are My Credentials
The Story of Otto Erler,
WWII POW
From The American Legion Magazine,1960
Not many of us have seen the colors struck. No, not retired. Not simply lowered at the end of the day, but deliberately pulled down. World War II Marine, Otto Erler, did from his foxhole on Corregidor.
Knocked unconscious by a Japanese mortar shell, Erler came too just as Japanese troops swarmed over him. Corregidor had fallen. As Erler looked up past a Japanese bayonet, up the barrel of the weapon, and over the shoulder of his captor . . . he saw a tattered "Old Glory" coming down. In his head were the words of a poem: "A moth-eaten rag on a worm-eaten pole. It doesn't look likely to stir a man's soul . . ." But it did. Oh, how it did stir Erler's soul. In that flag he saw America folding, America coming down. And that 20-year-old Marine from Dallas, Texas cried.
Later, under guard on a dock in Manila, enroute to a prisoner of war camp, Erler snuck away into a small, empty office building on the pier, in search of - of all things - toilet paper. In rummaging through the place, he found none. But in a corner, in a dark closet, he found an American flag. It grabbed him by the throat . . . it was a piece of home. It was something he could have faith in. He didn't stop to think that prisoners were shot for less.
He snuck back into the ranks of prisoners and quickly hid the flag in his duffel bag. Transported on prisoner ships, Erler kept the flag hidden, and for the first time brought it out for a comrade's burial at sea. Done with permission from his captors, Erler's flag draped the lead-filled, canvas body bags of several who died on the trip.
When leaving the transport and heading to a more permanent camp, Erler was able to smuggle the flag off the ship. He carried it with him and kept it in his pillowcase. Eventually it was found and taken from Erler who, with the ranking American officer, bravely told the Japanese as he handed it over, "This is an American flag. We expect it to be treated with proper courtesy and to be returned when we leave."
They reluctantly agreed, but not without penalties: rations would be halved for thirty days, no cigarettes, and lights out at 9:00 p.m. In early 1944 Erler was transferred to a lead mine in Japan. As he prepared to depart, he bravely asked for the return of the Flag. It was given over to him.
At the lead mine he was allowed to keep his flag, but only for burials. For use in any other way, he would be held responsible. It found use ten times in sixteen months. Then in August of 1945, after more than three years as a POW, peace was at hand. The war was over and it was Erler's turn to strike the colors. Down came the rising sun and up went the Stars and Stripes.
Through his years as a prisoner, Erler's flag buried 25 men and raised the spirits and gave hope to thousands. That 42-star flag is still around. It resides at the Dallas Historical society. It is tattered and torn. It's one of those things best described by British General Sir Edward Bruce Hamley:
"A moth-eaten rag on a worm-eaten pole,
It doesn't look likely to stir a man's soul;
'Tis the deeds that were done 'neath the moth-eaten rag
When that pole was a staff and the rag was a Flag."
It doesn't look likely to stir a man's soul;
'Tis the deeds that were done 'neath the moth-eaten rag
When that pole was a staff and the rag was a Flag."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Story of Mike Christian,Vietnam POW
The American Flag symbolizes the hope and inspiration that is the
essence of everyone and everything in the US. There is another story
that epitomizes the emotion and pride every American feels for the
flag, and underscores the importance of the Pledge of Allegiance.
The Vietnam War . . . 1971, prisoners of war were moved from isolation into large rooms at the Hanoi Hilton. One of those prisoners was Mike Christian. Mike came from a small town near Selma, Alabama. He didn't wear a pair of shoes until he was thirteen. At seventeen he enlisted in the Navy, later to earn a commission and become a Naval flying officer, and was shot down and captured in 1967.
The uniforms the Americans wore were the Vietnamese pajamas, only they were blue, and rubber sandals made of automobile tires.
Mike contrived a bamboo needle for himself and collecting some cloth of red and white, he sewed an American Flag on the inside of his shirt. And it was the practice of the prisoners that every afternoon before they got their ration of soup, they would hang Mike's shirt on the wall and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Now, repeating the Pledge of Allegiance may not be the most important part of the average American day, but for those men in that stark prison cell, it was the most important and meaningful event of their day.
One day, the Vietnamese searched the cell and discovered Mike's shirt with the flag sewn inside, removed it and him, and for the "benefit" of the other prisoners beat Mike Christian severely for the next couple hours.
Then they opened the door and threw him back inside. Mike was not in good shape and the others tried to comfort and take care of him as best they could.
The cell had a concrete slab on which the men slept and a naked light bulb in each corner of the room. After things had quieted down for the evening, in the corner of the room, sitting beneath that dimly lit bulb with a piece of white cloth, a piece of red cloth, another blue shirt and his bamboo needle, was Mike Christian. His eyes almost swollen shut from the beating, he was fashioning another American flag.
Mike Christian was not making that flag because it made him feel better. He was making that flag because he knew how important it was for his fellow prisoners to be able to pledge allegiance to our Flag and to our country.
For Mike Christian, maintaining that Flag was the right thing to do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a letter to MG Patrick H. Brady, Col. Day recounted his personal recollections of Mike Christian, POW. The letter was entered in testimony on the flag protection constitutional amendment before the US Senate Judiciary Committee.
Dear Pat:
No one loves liberty more than those who lose it . . . and lose if for a long time. I was shot down on August 26,1967 . . . captured, escaped, and was recaptured some two weeks later. I spent 38 months of my 67 months in solitary . . . where I had the time to sort out what is important, and what is not. I started my daily regimen by first saying the pledge of allegiance to the flag, then reciting the lord's prayer, and then praying for my family.
The reason for doing it in that order was that I knew above all other things that my country would never desert me . . . and it was of utmost importance that I not desert my flag! She was my link to civilization.
When we were moved into joint living with about 40 other people, I was the commander. I ordered my troops to face to the East every afternoon to say the pledge of allegiance. This motivated one of my junior officers (Mike Christian) to craft a homemade flag from scraps. He sewed it inside of his shirt, and at pledge time, he would turn the shirt wrongside out, hang it on a line . . . and we would say the pledge and render a hand salute. It was the best time of every day.
At one of the shakedown inspections, the commies found the flag. They brutally dragged Mike out and we could hear them beating him for hours. He came back that nite with broken ribs, and his face battered. They broke his ribs . . . but not his spirit. A few days passed and Mike approached me. He said: "Major, they got the flag . . . but they didn't get the needle I made it with. If you agree . . . I'm making another flag!"
My answer was, "Do it!"
It was several weeks before we had another homemade flag, but he finished it.
There was never a day from that day forward that the Stars and Stripes did not fly in my room, with 40 American pilots proudly saluting! What we guaranteed to 40 American prisoners should be the minimum guarantee for the entire United States.
God bless U, and God bless your efforts.
Col. Bud Day MOH-AFC
POW 1967-1973
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Fifty years ago, American soldiers saved me from the hell of Dachau. They nursed me back to health and restored my will to live. Yet, what I remember most of my liberation is my tears being spilled on a small American flag. From that day to this, my love for our flag has never faltered.
My story begins in 1940. When I was nine years old, the Germans took me from my home in Krasnik, Poland. For five years I was a prisoner of the Nazis in 10 death camps, where I saw thousands of men, women and children brutally murdered and starved or worked to death by the Nazi's death machine.
I lived on breadcrumbs, sawdust, human remains and one small prayer for redemption or death, whichever was quicker.
My prayers were answered on April 29, 1945, when the 42nd and 45th Infantry Divisions of the U.S. 7th Army liberated me from Dachau. We were nursed for several days by these war-weary, but compassionate men and women until we had enough strength to travel to Munich for additional medical attention.
As we walked ever so slowly and unsteadily toward our salvation, a young American tank commander -- whose name I have never known -- jumped off his tank to help us in whatever way he could.
When he saw that I was just a young boy, despite my gaunt appearance, he stopped to offer me comfort and compassion. He gave me his own food. He touched my withered body with his hands and his heart. His love instilled in me a will to live, and I fell at his feet and shed my first tears in five years.
He kneeled by my side and gently wiped them away with his handkerchief. It was only later, after he had gone, that I realized that his handkerchief was a small American flag, the first I had ever seen. It became my flag of redemption and freedom.
For more than 50 years I have cherished that flag. It represents the hope, freedom and life that the American soldiers returned to me when they found me, nursed me to health, and restored my faith in mankind. That is why today, I am working to help pass an amendment to the Constitution to protect our flag from physical desecration.
The memories of those heroes who liberated me will forever be a part of me. I show my gratitude to them for delivering me from hell every time I salute the flag that was theirs, and today is mine.
Even now, 50 years later, I am overcome with tears and gratitude whenever I see our glorious American flag because I know what it represents not only to me, but to millions around the world.
Perhaps only those who have had their humanity brutally torn from them as I did can fully appreciate this great country and what its flag represents. Yet every American, out of deference for the sacrifices that purchased and maintain their freedom, should revere and honor our flag.
Protest if you wish. Speak loudly, even curse our country and our flag, but, please, in the name of all those who died for our freedoms, don't physically harm what is so sacred to me and to countless others.
When you harm our flag, you violate my freedom to protect what once protected me, liberated me, restored my human dignity, and wiped away my tears. The price of desecration is too high; I support a constitutional amendment to preserve America's dignity, America's values, and America's flag. God bless America, and God bless our flag.
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Hats off to the Vermont Senate for its action last week passing the resolution against desecration of the American flag. This is the second year in a row that the Senate has struggled with this painful and complicated issue. This year, the Senate got it right.
Until recently, I served in the Vermont Senate, and when the Senate debated the flag resolution last year, I was among the majority who opposed the resolution. I was wrong.
I was wrong because I thought that this issue, like so many others in the Statehouse, was a problem to be solved through study and analysis. It's not. It's a matter of the heart.
I didn't grasp this until a quiet afternoon in Belvedere last August during my campaign for the United States Congress. After marching in a small community parade, I stayed around for the dedication of a memorial honoring verterans of military service. As individual veterans (and their children) stood to be recognized for their service and sacrifice, I fought back tears. My heart literally ached.
Maybe it was the isolation and the exhaustion of a statewide candidacy that broke my defenses, that allowed feelings to get past my head and into my heart. Whatever it was, I couldn't stop thinking about my father, himself a veteran of military service, long since passed away.
My father had fought at Verdun in 1918. There, amid terrible carnage - and great courage - he was shot and gassed. But he survived.
Dad never talked much about fighting in France. He never made a big thing out of patriotism or the flag - we didn't even have a flagpole at home. But I noticed as a kid that he always held his hat (he always wore a hat) over his heart when the flag passed by at the parade. And, I knew by his silence, that fighting under his country's flag on those killing fields in France had changed his life forever.
Thirty years ago, when Dad died, the American flag draped his coffin. The flag had been placed there by men of the local American Legion. These were men that he and us had not known especially well. But in the end, they were his brothers-in-arms. At his graveside, these men that we hardly knew resolutely folded Dad's flag and, without a word, they handed the flag gently to my mother.
Back at the family place after the service, all the friends and family had headed home - except me, the last to leave. In the fading light of sunset, Mum and I sat alone, together in silence, exhausted, out of words. Dad's flag tightly folded in a tri-cornered bundle, rested on the table by his empty chair. I reached out for it. The flag was firm and soft, like a swaddled newborn. I held it in my arms until the house was dark.
Leaving my mother alone with her grief in that empty house, I hated to say goodbye. Halfway to Boston, I turned the car around, found a lumberyard open late, bought a 12-foot pole and some hardware, and headed north back to my parent's home.
Arriving there, I pulled the car onto the sloping lawn so that its headlights shone on the front of the clapboard cape. Without explanation, I got the ladder and my tools and built a flagpole out over the front door. By midnight, it was finished, painted white, ready.
Early the next morning, I unfurled Dad's flag, hung it on the new flagpole, and said goodbye to Mum. Turning to wave as I drove away, I saw Dad's flag flutter gently in the morning light. I knew right then that this flag and pole were my statement to the world of my dad's sacrifice, his gift to all of us. I was in tears, but I felt a lot better.
A year ago when I voted in the Senate, I thought of my father's flag, but I had lost touch with what it meant in my heart. But not until that quiet August afternoon in Belvedere, among veterans of other wars, did I fully understand that the flag issue is - and should be - about what we feel, not about what we think.
I've listened closely to all the rational arguments about freedom of speech, symbols versus reality, and what Madison really meant in the Federalist Papers. In fact, I've even made some of these arguments myself! All very interesting, but they miss the point.
The point is, this is the American flag, and it's the only flag we've got. This flag stands for everything that is good about this country. Trampling and burning the flag is not a political protest: it is, in fact, a frontal assault upon the values and feelings of the women and men who helped to build and protect what's best about this country. The American flag deserves special recognition and protection, even if five people on the Supreme Court don't think so.
Vermont's Senate did the right thing, last week, by passing a resolution to protect the flag. By contrast, Vermont's House of Representatives has rejected the resolution. Now it's time for the House to listen to its heart and to join the Senate in saying that values matter. Respect matters. The flag matters.
John Carroll is the former majority leader of the Vermont Senate and the 1994 Republican candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mr. Chairman members of the committee thank you for the opportunity to appear before you today to tell the story about a close personal friend, a WWII Veteran who volunteered for service, and did his duty during WWII. I feel that by sharing his experience with you it will serve to emphasize what the flag means to most Americans especially those veterans who have fought and died to protect it.
Let me tell you about Jose Quintero. He was born in Corpus Christi Texas and moved to Albuquerque, NM where he currently resides. Jose like many other New Mexicans from the 200th and 5l5th Coastal Artillery Regiments of the New Mexico National Guard were among those who defended Bataan and Corregidor during WWII. They were attacked on December 8, by a far superior force of the 14th Japanese army. They courageously defended themselves as they slowly withdrew from the enemy advance towards Corregidor and Bataan. Promised reinforcements and supplies, which they never received, they nevertheless held the Japanese up for five long months, completely upsetting the Japanese timetable of conquest. They were finally defeated by disease, hunger, and lack of ammunition on May of 1942, having bought time for the United States to regroup for an offensive war to reconquer the Pacific.
Perhaps you already know this little history lesson. However, I'd like you to take a moment to truly imagine the fear, the exhaustion, the jungle heat, and hopelessness of their situation. My friend Jose experienced this hardship and sacrifice. And he did it with one thought in mind - to do his duty, to serve with honor, to fight for the country that he loved. This isn't just some musty old war story. It was real, and remains so to this day for Jose and his comrades. You see, loyalty and patriotism are especially strong traits of these veterans.
These men fought with courage. They went beyond courage to bravery in the face of a superior force. Courage is an admirable quality. A courageous person is able to look at adversity and to face it squarely. The courageous are full of heart. The brave take it one step further and act despite overwhelming odds in an act of self sacrifice. The brave place others before themselves. Their act is one of love and generosity.
Jose Quintera was courageous during the battle for the Philippines. He proudly did his best and honored the fighting tradition of his unit. It was in the Camps that he went beyond courage. Jose so loved his country, that he looked for a way to express that love. He wanted to honor his friends and to make a symbol for himself to prove that he had not been "broken" in spirit. Most of all he wanted to honor what he calls "The real heroes of the war," those who made the ultimate sacrifice, those dying all around him. He began a project which would have meant a torturous death to him had he been caught.
He began to scrounge material in the form of a red blanket, and white bed sheets stolen from the Japanese Guards. The blue background came from Filipino dungarees. Aided by a Canadian soldier, a double amputee who worked in the tailor shop, he began to fashion these into an American flag. At that time Jose did not even know how many states were in the Union. He had to ask an officer to tell him the significance of the thirteen stripes and the forty-eight stars in the design. The staff was made from a Japanese prod used to discipline the prisoners. The tassels were added later and made from the parachute cord from chutes used to drop supplies into the camp after the war. This flag took him over one year to complete. He wrapped it in a piece of canvas and kept it buried in the dirt under his bunk.
Close to the end of the war they heard American bombers approaching the unmarked POW camp. Jose took his flag out in the open and waved it at the incoming aircraft. The pilot in the lead plane saw him, tipped his wing in acknowledgment, and flew past the camp. Jose risked his life to save the lives of his fellow prisoners.
Mr. Chairman, members of the committee, Mr. Qunitero is what peace and freedom are all about. Heroes like him and those here at my side are what have made this country great and what makes me so proud to be an American. I'm sorry that Jose could not be here today to tell you, in his own words, what the flag means to him and his fellow veterans.
Thank you and may God Bless America
The Vietnam War . . . 1971, prisoners of war were moved from isolation into large rooms at the Hanoi Hilton. One of those prisoners was Mike Christian. Mike came from a small town near Selma, Alabama. He didn't wear a pair of shoes until he was thirteen. At seventeen he enlisted in the Navy, later to earn a commission and become a Naval flying officer, and was shot down and captured in 1967.
The uniforms the Americans wore were the Vietnamese pajamas, only they were blue, and rubber sandals made of automobile tires.
Mike contrived a bamboo needle for himself and collecting some cloth of red and white, he sewed an American Flag on the inside of his shirt. And it was the practice of the prisoners that every afternoon before they got their ration of soup, they would hang Mike's shirt on the wall and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Now, repeating the Pledge of Allegiance may not be the most important part of the average American day, but for those men in that stark prison cell, it was the most important and meaningful event of their day.
One day, the Vietnamese searched the cell and discovered Mike's shirt with the flag sewn inside, removed it and him, and for the "benefit" of the other prisoners beat Mike Christian severely for the next couple hours.
Then they opened the door and threw him back inside. Mike was not in good shape and the others tried to comfort and take care of him as best they could.
The cell had a concrete slab on which the men slept and a naked light bulb in each corner of the room. After things had quieted down for the evening, in the corner of the room, sitting beneath that dimly lit bulb with a piece of white cloth, a piece of red cloth, another blue shirt and his bamboo needle, was Mike Christian. His eyes almost swollen shut from the beating, he was fashioning another American flag.
Mike Christian was not making that flag because it made him feel better. He was making that flag because he knew how important it was for his fellow prisoners to be able to pledge allegiance to our Flag and to our country.
For Mike Christian, maintaining that Flag was the right thing to do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
First Person Account of the Story of Mike Christian
By Col.Bud Day
Medal Honor Recipient
POW 1967-1973
Medal Honor Recipient
POW 1967-1973
In a letter to MG Patrick H. Brady, Col. Day recounted his personal recollections of Mike Christian, POW. The letter was entered in testimony on the flag protection constitutional amendment before the US Senate Judiciary Committee.
Dear Pat:
No one loves liberty more than those who lose it . . . and lose if for a long time. I was shot down on August 26,1967 . . . captured, escaped, and was recaptured some two weeks later. I spent 38 months of my 67 months in solitary . . . where I had the time to sort out what is important, and what is not. I started my daily regimen by first saying the pledge of allegiance to the flag, then reciting the lord's prayer, and then praying for my family.
The reason for doing it in that order was that I knew above all other things that my country would never desert me . . . and it was of utmost importance that I not desert my flag! She was my link to civilization.
When we were moved into joint living with about 40 other people, I was the commander. I ordered my troops to face to the East every afternoon to say the pledge of allegiance. This motivated one of my junior officers (Mike Christian) to craft a homemade flag from scraps. He sewed it inside of his shirt, and at pledge time, he would turn the shirt wrongside out, hang it on a line . . . and we would say the pledge and render a hand salute. It was the best time of every day.
At one of the shakedown inspections, the commies found the flag. They brutally dragged Mike out and we could hear them beating him for hours. He came back that nite with broken ribs, and his face battered. They broke his ribs . . . but not his spirit. A few days passed and Mike approached me. He said: "Major, they got the flag . . . but they didn't get the needle I made it with. If you agree . . . I'm making another flag!"
My answer was, "Do it!"
It was several weeks before we had another homemade flag, but he finished it.
There was never a day from that day forward that the Stars and Stripes did not fly in my room, with 40 American pilots proudly saluting! What we guaranteed to 40 American prisoners should be the minimum guarantee for the entire United States.
God bless U, and God bless your efforts.
Col. Bud Day MOH-AFC
POW 1967-1973
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Protect the Flag That Protected Me
By Stephen Ross
Fifty years ago, American soldiers saved me from the hell of Dachau. They nursed me back to health and restored my will to live. Yet, what I remember most of my liberation is my tears being spilled on a small American flag. From that day to this, my love for our flag has never faltered.
My story begins in 1940. When I was nine years old, the Germans took me from my home in Krasnik, Poland. For five years I was a prisoner of the Nazis in 10 death camps, where I saw thousands of men, women and children brutally murdered and starved or worked to death by the Nazi's death machine.
I lived on breadcrumbs, sawdust, human remains and one small prayer for redemption or death, whichever was quicker.
My prayers were answered on April 29, 1945, when the 42nd and 45th Infantry Divisions of the U.S. 7th Army liberated me from Dachau. We were nursed for several days by these war-weary, but compassionate men and women until we had enough strength to travel to Munich for additional medical attention.
As we walked ever so slowly and unsteadily toward our salvation, a young American tank commander -- whose name I have never known -- jumped off his tank to help us in whatever way he could.
When he saw that I was just a young boy, despite my gaunt appearance, he stopped to offer me comfort and compassion. He gave me his own food. He touched my withered body with his hands and his heart. His love instilled in me a will to live, and I fell at his feet and shed my first tears in five years.
He kneeled by my side and gently wiped them away with his handkerchief. It was only later, after he had gone, that I realized that his handkerchief was a small American flag, the first I had ever seen. It became my flag of redemption and freedom.
For more than 50 years I have cherished that flag. It represents the hope, freedom and life that the American soldiers returned to me when they found me, nursed me to health, and restored my faith in mankind. That is why today, I am working to help pass an amendment to the Constitution to protect our flag from physical desecration.
The memories of those heroes who liberated me will forever be a part of me. I show my gratitude to them for delivering me from hell every time I salute the flag that was theirs, and today is mine.
Even now, 50 years later, I am overcome with tears and gratitude whenever I see our glorious American flag because I know what it represents not only to me, but to millions around the world.
Perhaps only those who have had their humanity brutally torn from them as I did can fully appreciate this great country and what its flag represents. Yet every American, out of deference for the sacrifices that purchased and maintain their freedom, should revere and honor our flag.
Protest if you wish. Speak loudly, even curse our country and our flag, but, please, in the name of all those who died for our freedoms, don't physically harm what is so sacred to me and to countless others.
When you harm our flag, you violate my freedom to protect what once protected me, liberated me, restored my human dignity, and wiped away my tears. The price of desecration is too high; I support a constitutional amendment to preserve America's dignity, America's values, and America's flag. God bless America, and God bless our flag.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The American Flag Matters
By John Carroll
From The Caledonian-Record (Vt.)
February 1995
From The Caledonian-Record (Vt.)
February 1995
Hats off to the Vermont Senate for its action last week passing the resolution against desecration of the American flag. This is the second year in a row that the Senate has struggled with this painful and complicated issue. This year, the Senate got it right.
Until recently, I served in the Vermont Senate, and when the Senate debated the flag resolution last year, I was among the majority who opposed the resolution. I was wrong.
I was wrong because I thought that this issue, like so many others in the Statehouse, was a problem to be solved through study and analysis. It's not. It's a matter of the heart.
I didn't grasp this until a quiet afternoon in Belvedere last August during my campaign for the United States Congress. After marching in a small community parade, I stayed around for the dedication of a memorial honoring verterans of military service. As individual veterans (and their children) stood to be recognized for their service and sacrifice, I fought back tears. My heart literally ached.
Maybe it was the isolation and the exhaustion of a statewide candidacy that broke my defenses, that allowed feelings to get past my head and into my heart. Whatever it was, I couldn't stop thinking about my father, himself a veteran of military service, long since passed away.
My father had fought at Verdun in 1918. There, amid terrible carnage - and great courage - he was shot and gassed. But he survived.
Dad never talked much about fighting in France. He never made a big thing out of patriotism or the flag - we didn't even have a flagpole at home. But I noticed as a kid that he always held his hat (he always wore a hat) over his heart when the flag passed by at the parade. And, I knew by his silence, that fighting under his country's flag on those killing fields in France had changed his life forever.
Thirty years ago, when Dad died, the American flag draped his coffin. The flag had been placed there by men of the local American Legion. These were men that he and us had not known especially well. But in the end, they were his brothers-in-arms. At his graveside, these men that we hardly knew resolutely folded Dad's flag and, without a word, they handed the flag gently to my mother.
Back at the family place after the service, all the friends and family had headed home - except me, the last to leave. In the fading light of sunset, Mum and I sat alone, together in silence, exhausted, out of words. Dad's flag tightly folded in a tri-cornered bundle, rested on the table by his empty chair. I reached out for it. The flag was firm and soft, like a swaddled newborn. I held it in my arms until the house was dark.
Leaving my mother alone with her grief in that empty house, I hated to say goodbye. Halfway to Boston, I turned the car around, found a lumberyard open late, bought a 12-foot pole and some hardware, and headed north back to my parent's home.
Arriving there, I pulled the car onto the sloping lawn so that its headlights shone on the front of the clapboard cape. Without explanation, I got the ladder and my tools and built a flagpole out over the front door. By midnight, it was finished, painted white, ready.
Early the next morning, I unfurled Dad's flag, hung it on the new flagpole, and said goodbye to Mum. Turning to wave as I drove away, I saw Dad's flag flutter gently in the morning light. I knew right then that this flag and pole were my statement to the world of my dad's sacrifice, his gift to all of us. I was in tears, but I felt a lot better.
A year ago when I voted in the Senate, I thought of my father's flag, but I had lost touch with what it meant in my heart. But not until that quiet August afternoon in Belvedere, among veterans of other wars, did I fully understand that the flag issue is - and should be - about what we feel, not about what we think.
I've listened closely to all the rational arguments about freedom of speech, symbols versus reality, and what Madison really meant in the Federalist Papers. In fact, I've even made some of these arguments myself! All very interesting, but they miss the point.
The point is, this is the American flag, and it's the only flag we've got. This flag stands for everything that is good about this country. Trampling and burning the flag is not a political protest: it is, in fact, a frontal assault upon the values and feelings of the women and men who helped to build and protect what's best about this country. The American flag deserves special recognition and protection, even if five people on the Supreme Court don't think so.
Vermont's Senate did the right thing, last week, by passing a resolution to protect the flag. By contrast, Vermont's House of Representatives has rejected the resolution. Now it's time for the House to listen to its heart and to join the Senate in saying that values matter. Respect matters. The flag matters.
John Carroll is the former majority leader of the Vermont Senate and the 1994 Republican candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives.
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Jose Quintero
By Ed Baca, in testimony to the
US Senate Judiciary
US Senate Judiciary
Mr. Chairman members of the committee thank you for the opportunity to appear before you today to tell the story about a close personal friend, a WWII Veteran who volunteered for service, and did his duty during WWII. I feel that by sharing his experience with you it will serve to emphasize what the flag means to most Americans especially those veterans who have fought and died to protect it.
Let me tell you about Jose Quintero. He was born in Corpus Christi Texas and moved to Albuquerque, NM where he currently resides. Jose like many other New Mexicans from the 200th and 5l5th Coastal Artillery Regiments of the New Mexico National Guard were among those who defended Bataan and Corregidor during WWII. They were attacked on December 8, by a far superior force of the 14th Japanese army. They courageously defended themselves as they slowly withdrew from the enemy advance towards Corregidor and Bataan. Promised reinforcements and supplies, which they never received, they nevertheless held the Japanese up for five long months, completely upsetting the Japanese timetable of conquest. They were finally defeated by disease, hunger, and lack of ammunition on May of 1942, having bought time for the United States to regroup for an offensive war to reconquer the Pacific.
Perhaps you already know this little history lesson. However, I'd like you to take a moment to truly imagine the fear, the exhaustion, the jungle heat, and hopelessness of their situation. My friend Jose experienced this hardship and sacrifice. And he did it with one thought in mind - to do his duty, to serve with honor, to fight for the country that he loved. This isn't just some musty old war story. It was real, and remains so to this day for Jose and his comrades. You see, loyalty and patriotism are especially strong traits of these veterans.
These men fought with courage. They went beyond courage to bravery in the face of a superior force. Courage is an admirable quality. A courageous person is able to look at adversity and to face it squarely. The courageous are full of heart. The brave take it one step further and act despite overwhelming odds in an act of self sacrifice. The brave place others before themselves. Their act is one of love and generosity.
Jose Quintera was courageous during the battle for the Philippines. He proudly did his best and honored the fighting tradition of his unit. It was in the Camps that he went beyond courage. Jose so loved his country, that he looked for a way to express that love. He wanted to honor his friends and to make a symbol for himself to prove that he had not been "broken" in spirit. Most of all he wanted to honor what he calls "The real heroes of the war," those who made the ultimate sacrifice, those dying all around him. He began a project which would have meant a torturous death to him had he been caught.
He began to scrounge material in the form of a red blanket, and white bed sheets stolen from the Japanese Guards. The blue background came from Filipino dungarees. Aided by a Canadian soldier, a double amputee who worked in the tailor shop, he began to fashion these into an American flag. At that time Jose did not even know how many states were in the Union. He had to ask an officer to tell him the significance of the thirteen stripes and the forty-eight stars in the design. The staff was made from a Japanese prod used to discipline the prisoners. The tassels were added later and made from the parachute cord from chutes used to drop supplies into the camp after the war. This flag took him over one year to complete. He wrapped it in a piece of canvas and kept it buried in the dirt under his bunk.
Close to the end of the war they heard American bombers approaching the unmarked POW camp. Jose took his flag out in the open and waved it at the incoming aircraft. The pilot in the lead plane saw him, tipped his wing in acknowledgment, and flew past the camp. Jose risked his life to save the lives of his fellow prisoners.
Mr. Chairman, members of the committee, Mr. Qunitero is what peace and freedom are all about. Heroes like him and those here at my side are what have made this country great and what makes me so proud to be an American. I'm sorry that Jose could not be here today to tell you, in his own words, what the flag means to him and his fellow veterans.
Thank you and may God Bless America
| Two E-Mails from Rush 24/7 Adopted Soldiers |
| October 2, 2007 |
 |
Dear Rush,  Mega-dittos
from one of the soldiers adopted for your Rush 24/7. I'm writing this
from the MWR in Tallil AFB, Iraq. After reading your Friday "phony
soldiers" monologue, I had Democrats pegged as stuck on stupid and it's
still hard to believe they are THAT stupid to accuse you of besmirching
us, given their track records. And come to think of it, they besmirch
us yet again at the same time they accuse you because to go by whatever
they pass off as "reasoning", to believe that you besmirched us would
be lumping all REAL soldiers and veterans with Jesse MacBeth and all
other scumbags like him. What was the point of passing the recent "Stolen Valor Act"? Well, anyway, here's a copy of the email I sent to my House Rep, John Carter R-TX; as well as my Senators, Kay Bailey Hutchison R-TX and John Cornyn R-TX. It reads:
Well, that's my letter in a nutshell. Use it if you wish, because that kind of hypocrisy from the likes of Kerry and his ilk shouldn't stand. I also sent a copy to Hannity. Thanks for the years of fun watching your TV show and listening to you on the radio. Keep up the great work. Dave |
|
| Dear Rush, I can think of countless times that I felt the desire to write and tell you how I felt about a subject. I think I finally found something that I could not stay quiet on any longer. This phony soldier story has disgusted me like no other. I am currently deployed to Iraq for my third time. Your Adopt-a-Soldier Program has enabled me to listen everyday by downloading your program and I have always taken great pride in your support of the military. My parents turned me on to listening to you a decade ago and I listen every minute I can. I have also taken great pride in also being a fellow Missourian, from Lake of the Ozarks here myself. I am writing this while I am listening to a downloaded copy of Friday's program. This is one soldier that cannot convey enough the disgust I have for these liberals. To totally take your comment out of context like this and demean you in this way is disgusting, especially from people that disgust me. One of your sound-bites was from a woman that quoted poll numbers from soldiers that say we should pull out, and numbers that say we should pull out now. I'm not sure where she got her numbers, because she didn't ask anyone in my company. My company would be quite the opposite way. To be honest, there isn't a one of us that wouldn't rather be home, but we support the war, support our mission, and support why we are here, one and all. I have been in the 101st Airborne for the majority of the last 11 years. I served under then Major General Petraeus during Operation Iraqi Freedom I, when we first crossed the border. I have met him and consider him to be a great man. What these liberals did to him angers me. I know I am rambling Rush, and for that I apologize. I am extremely angry about how Iraq is portrayed. We are winning this like no one back home would ever understand. I am extremely angry about what is being said about you over this phony soldier story. I am extremely angry about how none of these liberals are called on their lies and attacks against George Bush and Iraq. I guess I just want to express my tremendous support of you Rush and how much you are appreciated by some of the soldiers out here. Keep up the good fight, Paul [-----] |
|
For the left,
the Iraq war nightmare is still yet to come.
By Christopher Cook
The Democrats were well aware that, post-1968 at least, their record with the people on military matters was spotty at best. They knew that many of the people who currently make up their base today were, in their younger years, the same people who helped engineer a loss in Vietnam. Some of those people even spat on returning soldiers and called them "baby-killers." As we moved into the 80s, the Democrats became ever-more dovish, going so far as to oppose the sensible notion of developing missile defense systems to protect the United States from incoming Soviet ICBMs, while simultaneously suggesting that the USSR woul