Sunday, September 4, 2011

Dad and girls

I am helping a friend sell his plane. Yesterday a young mans shows up to look at the plane. He has his two girls (8 yrs & 4 yrs) with him. He looks at the plane for sale. Then we spend about a hour talking about other things airplanes. This guy flys a F-16 for the guard. Spent a full life flying for the Navy, F-18, E2, C2. Stationed on 8 different carriers. When asked about his favorite airplane, he points at the one he flew in. A 1955 Super Cub he rebuilt in 18 months. This guy knows the reason for flying.
This made my day

DS

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Hello
Haven't been able to make any comments due to work and lawyers.

I have one comment that keeps running thru the skull.
The people "slaves"on welfare don't seem to realize the government has become the new plantation owner.
ie; "we take care of you, you do what you are told to do.
Then the slaves support the master, because they can not support themselves.
New Orleans comes to mind.
Keep the slaves dumb and you will have control.
Think the failing school system is an accident? Me to.

That is all for now

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Fun with trucks and tractors

Had a bit of rain at the range. The creek was washed out to the left front wheel of the transport.  This rig has been sitting for about 5 years. Needed to move it before it fell in.
The boss got the dozer running after relocating the mice and bats. I worked on the truck batteries. The cab had become an enclave for all the mice within a mile.
Got the truck started. Blow all the mice out of the cab.
Then spent about an hour freeing the brakes from the drums.
Moved the transport & dozer to a safer location. Need to go back after the creek quits running, to repair roads and banks.
Now for the best part, got to practice some long range varmint control.
The boss spotted, a good time was had by all. The varmints even had fun, judging by the jumping and flying.

Got home to good music and Guinnenss.
The perfect end to a perfect day.  

Monday, January 17, 2011

Day on the range.

Loaded the truck, 4 long, 2 sides, 1 ton of ammo, four bags, one bench & an ice chest.
Too much stuff for two guys in the plane. Recon on the runway was weak. Its was wet anyway.
7 hrs in the sun, Lots of  varmits, lots of fun.
Sightin compadray's 223, crappy plastic stock, give me wood any day.
Got to use one of those new fangled MUVs. Another P.O.S. foisted on U.S. by marketing.
Give me a old flaty anyday. No top, no windshield, no problems. Cept to the varmits.
Partner got a hit at 196 yrs with 17HMR. Happy times "Ding".
FMJ 223 takes some of the fun out of the hits. As Mugsy said "It's like shooting them with an ice pick."
All for now.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Weather or not

After a week for hell, dealing with attorneys and two many projects. Finally some good weather on a week end. Siting in my shop in shirt sleeves. Listening to Don Henley, watching the sun go down.
Packing for the range tomorrow. The only thing better would be if  I could fly to the range, wait the range has a airstrip and a jeep, so I dont have to walk. Can I get two guys, a pile of hardware in a 150? Hell yes.
Hot damn kill two birds with one stone. This could be a good day.
Will advise.
DS

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

THE FEW, THE PROUD, THE MARINES

OK guy and gals this is a first for me, so be kind.
A business acquaintance of mine asked his assistant to send this letter to me.
I had not heard this story, so I thought I would pass it along. 

In case you haven’t seen this yet…

  On Nov 13, 2010, Lt General John Kelly, USMC gave a speech to the Semper
  Fi  Society of St. Louis , MO. This was 4 days after his son, Lt Robert Kelly,
  USMC was killed by an IED while on his 3rd Combat tour. During his
  speech, General Kelly spoke about the dedication and valor of our young men and
  women who step forward each and every day to protect us.

  During the speech, he never mentioned the loss of his own son. He closed
  the speech with the moving account of the last 6 seconds in the lives of 2
  young Marines who died with rifles blazing to protect their brother
  Marines.


  "I will leave you with a story about the kind of people they are about the
  quality of the steel in their backs about the kind of dedication they
  bring to our country while they serve in uniform and forever after as veterans.
  Two years ago when I was the Commander of all U.S. and Iraqi forces, in
  fact, the 22nd of April 2008, two Marine infantry battalions, 1/9 "The
  Walking Dead," and 2/8 were switching out in Ramadi. One battalion in the
  closing days of their deployment going home very soon, the other just
  starting its seven-month combat tour. Two Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale
  and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, 22 and 20 years old respectively, one
  from each battalion, were assuming the watch together at the entrance gate
  of an outpost that contained a makeshift barracks housing 50 Marines. The
  same broken down ramshackle building was also home to 100 Iraqi police,
  also my men and our allies in the fight against the terrorists in Ramadi, a
  city until recently the most dangerous city on earth and owned by Al Qaeda.
  Yale was a dirt poor mixed-race kid from Virginia with a wife and daughter, and
  a mother and sister who lived with him and he supported as well. He did
  this on a yearly salary of less than $23,000. Haerter, on the other hand, was
  a middle class white kid from Long Island . They were from two  completely
  different worlds. Had they not joined the Marines they would never have
  met each other, or understood that multiple America's exist simultaneously
  depending on one's race, education level, economic status, and where you
  might have been born. But they were Marines, combat Marines, forged in
  the same crucible of Marine training, and because of this bond they were
  brothers as close, or closer, than if they were born of the same woman.

  The mission orders they received from the sergeant squad leader I am sure
  went something like: "Okay you two clowns, stand this post and let no
  unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." "You clear?" I am also sure
  Yale and Haerter then rolled their eyes and said in unison something like: "Yes
  Sergeant," with just enoug! h attitude that made the point without saying
  the  words, "No kidding sweetheart, we know what we're doing." They then
  relieved two other Marines on watch and took up their post at the entry
  control point of Joint Security Station Nasser, in the Sophia section of
  Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq .

  A few minutes later a large blue truck turned down the alley way-perhaps
  60-70 yards in length-and sped its way through the serpentine of concrete
  jersey walls. The truck stopped just short of where the two were posted
  and detonated, killing them both catastrophically. Twenty-four brick masonry
  houses were damaged or destroyed. A mosque 100 yards away collapsed. The
  truck's engine came to rest two hundred yards away knocking most of a
  house down before it stopped. Our explosive experts reckoned the blast was made
  of 2,000 pounds of explosives. Two died, and because these two young
  infantrymen didn't have it in their DNA to run from danger, they saved 150
  of their Iraqi and American brothers-in-arms.

  When I read the situation report about the incident a few hours after it
  happened I called the regimental commander for details as something about
  this struck me as different. Marines dying or being seriously wounded is
  commonplace in combat. We expect Marines regardless of rank or MOS to
  stand their ground and do their duty, and even die in the process, if that is
  what the mission takes. But this just seemed different. The regimental
  command! er had just returned from the site and he agreed, but reported that
  there were no American witnesses to the event-just Iraqi police. I
  figured if there was any chance of finding out what actually happened and then to
  decorate the two Marines to acknowledge their bravery, I'd have to do it
  as a combat award that requires two eye-witnesses and we figured the
  bureaucrats back in Washington would never buy Iraqi statements. If it
  had any chance at all, it had to come under the signature of a general
  officer.

  I traveled to Ramadi the next day and spoke individually to a half-dozen
  Iraqi police all of whom told the same story. The blue truck turned down
  into the alley and immediately sped up as it made its way through the
  serpentine. They all said, "We knew immediately what was going on as soon
  as the two Marines began firing." The Iraqi  police then related that some
  of them also fired, and then to a man, ran for safety just prior to the
  explosion. All survived. Many were injured some seriously. One of the
  Iraqis elaborated and with tears welling up said, "They'd run like any
  normal man would to save his life." "What he didn't know until then," he
  said, "and what he learned that very instant, was that Marines are not
  normal." Choking past the emotion he said, "Sir, in the name of God no
  sane man would have stood there and done what they did." "No sane man." "They
  saved us all."

  What we didn't know at the time, and only learned a couple of days later
  after I wrote a summary and submitted both Yale and Haerter for posthumous
  Navy Crosses, was that one of our security cameras, damaged initially in
  the blast, recorded some o f the suicide attack. It happened exactly as the
  Iraqis had described it. It took exactly six seconds from when the truck
  entered the alley until it detonated.

  You can watch the last six seconds of their young lives. Putting myself
  in their heads I supposed it took about a second for the two Marines to
  separately come to the same conclusion about what was going on once the
  truck came into their view at the far end of the alley. Exactly no time
  to talk it over, or call the sergeant to ask what they should do. Only
  enough time to take half an instant and think about what the sergeant told them
  to do only a few minutes before: "let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles
  pass." The two Marines had about five seconds left to live.

  It took maybe another two seconds for t! hem to present their weapons, take
  aim, and open up. By this time the truck was half-way through the
  barriers and gaining speed the whole time. Here, the recording shows a number of
  Iraqi police, some of whom had fired their AKs, now scattering like the
  normal and rational men they were-some running right past the Marines.
  They had three seconds left to live.

  For about two seconds more, the recording shows the Marines' weapons
  firing non-stop the truck's windshield exploding into shards of glass as their
  rounds take it apart and tore in to the body of the son-of-a-bitch who is
  trying to get past them to kill their brothers-American and Iraqi-bedded
  down in the barracks totally unaware of the fact that their lives at that
  moment depended entirely on two Marines standing their ground. If they
  had been aware, they would have known they were safe because two Marines stood
  between them and a crazed suicide bomber. The recording shows the truck
  careening to a stop immediately in front of the two Marines. In all of
  the instantaneous violence Yale and Haerter never hesitated. By all reports
  and by the recording, they never stepped back. They never even started to
  step aside. They never even shifted their weight. With their feet spread
  shoulder width apart, they leaned into the danger, firing as fast as they
  could work their weapons. They had only one second left to live.

  The truck explodes. The camera goes blank. Two young men go to their
   God. Six seconds. Not enough time to think about their families, their
  country, their flag, or about their lives or their deaths, but more than enough
  time for two very brave young men to do their duty into eternity. That is the
  kind of people who are on watch all over the world tonight-for you.

  We Marines believe that God gave America the greatest gift he could bestow
  to man while he lived on this earth-freedom. We also believe he gave us
  another gift nearly as precious-our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Coast
  Guardsmen, and Marines-to safeguard that gift and guarantee no force on
  this earth can every steal it away. It has been my distinct honor to have been
  with you here today. Rest assured our America , this experiment in
  democracy started over two centuries ago, will forever remain the "land of the free
  and home of the brave" ; so long as we never run out of tough young
  Americans who are willing to look beyond their own self-interest and comfortable
  lives, and go into the darkest and most dangerous places on earth to hunt
  down, and kill, those who would do us harm.

  God Bless America , and SEMPER FIDELIS!"



Me again
After I read this I got to thinking about the iggits in DC we have rearranging the deck chairs, I got just a little upset.
They haven't got a clue as to scope, depth, commitment to duty these soldiers have.
These troops know that if they don't do the job at hand then we at home are lost.
These men and women are us. Don't get me wrong, I will never have what it takes to match them, but they come from us.
I have had the privilege to work with some Marines. They are the most honest and courteous people I have ever meet. I would stand by them and walk into the gates of hell, if they would have me.


If you haven't seen this yet, it is worth a look & listen
www.thewarriorsong.com

By the way, the business acquaintance I mentioned above has been responsible for coordinating thousands   of meals being served to the troops in war zones by civilians.