D-Day Commemoration con’t —

 

Hellfire Motivation Unto Glory by George

“They stood in a circle about the ox and took up the scattering of barley; among them powerful Agamemnon spoke in prayer: ‘Zeus, exalted and mightiest, sky-dwelling in the dark mist: let not the sun go down and disappear into darkness until I have hurled headlong the castle of Priam blazing, and lit the castle gates with the flames destruction; not till I have broken at the chest the tunic of Hektor torn with the bronze blade, and let many companions about him go down headlong into the dust, teeth gripping the ground soil.” The Iliad, HOMER

The final sands are running through the hourglass timed to proscribe or prescribe the fate of War.

American soldiery is perched on the borders of Iraq, preparing to kick some ass.

Time for Motivation. Going to a place within yourself, drumming up all the readiness, rage and explosiveness it takes to do what has to get done. Like morality and integrity, motivation cannot be half-assed. You have to know and believe that you are the best and that each other one striking out to stand atop your mountain is your enemy. Being able to do that is more important than even the skills one has. Being Unconquerable.

I salute all of you. My prayers are with you. Godspeed. Think kill or be killed. Think destroy or be destroyed. Take no prisoners. Every one of your American lives is worth more than the entire population of Iraq.

Here is Motivation from one of the greatest warriors ever to serve in American military.

*What follows has language within it fit for war*

General Patton arose and strode swiftly to the microphone.

The men snapped to their feet and stood silently. Patton surveyed the sea of brown with a grim look.

“Be seated”, he said. The words were not a request, but a command. The General’s voice rose high and clear.

“Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about America wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Americans love to fight, traditionally. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, everyone of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the All-American football players. Americans love a winner. Americans will not tolerate a loser. Americans despise cowards. Americans play to win all of the time. I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That’s why Americans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an American.”

The General paused and looked over the crowd. “You are not all going to die,” he said slowly. “Only two percent of you right here today would die in a major battle. Death must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. If he says he’s not, he’s a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get the hell slammed out of them watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood. Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Americans pride themselves on being He Men and they ARE He Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are not supermen.”

“All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call “chicken shit drilling”. That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don’t give a fuck for a man who’s not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn’t be here. You are ready for what’s to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you’re not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockful of shit!” The men roared in agreement.

In memory of D-Day…..

Hello warriors. Culling through some Classic Warrior posts from the past and came across a stockpile of Iraq War commentary I wrote. In memory of the brave, great, patriotic lives of all those who have fought for our freedoms I thought it would be fitting to post excerpts from those, here and now, for another read…

“War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.”

John Stuart Mill

I wonder what it is like to be on the ship when those guns go off? I would love to strap a Liberal (or CON-servative – added 06.06.07) to those 16″ barrels! Better yet, strap a liberated-at-the-cost-of-many-an-American, mealy-mouthed Frenchman to them! Pâté anyone?…truly the only kind of guts you could ever get out of a Frenchman anyway.

(*UPDATE: Turns out I was wrong about that being the only way to find guts in a Frenchman…my sources tell me they carried out the experiment and there were no guts. None.)

The United States going before the United Nations to seek approval is like me asking the bum on the street for approval to do what I need to do to make my life work. It used to be that when someone wanted to know how to do something right, be the best at what they had their mind set on achieving, they would go and seek guidance from the best.

America is the best. America is its own mentor. Because it is…it should not be asking third world thugs what it should do. The United Nations is a disgrace to humankind. They have never stood for, or up to, anything. America should airlift it in its entirety, along with every single subhuman employed by it, and unload ALL the waste along with the first dropped bomb we unload on top of Iraq.

Respect for those greater…

My beautiful little daughters, Indiana Marin and Mattigan Twain Warrior, showing their respect and reverence for those courageous human beings who’ve put their own lives on the line to protect and secure our American freedoms.

Thoughtful and soul-full day yesterday visiting the National Cemetery here in New Mexico.

Each Memorial Day we stop by with our girls for the fly-over and to pay our respects, let our little Warrior patriots bring a smile to a few faces, some tears to more than a few eyes. Nothing melts the tough, somber and worthy soul of a veteran more than the twinkle of a little girl’s eye and a soft and tiny voiced, “Thank you, sir, for your service.”

The winds were really stout and almost all the little headstone flags were uprooted and scattered about the grounds. Indy and Mattie, bothered by the sight of it all, encouraged their parents to spend the better part of the afternoon sticking them back down in the dirt, their tiny hands on top of ours as we all pushed. Indy ask me, “Daddy, who would do such a horrible, dishonorable job at this? After all, these soldier’s burial places are sacred.” I told her the Boy Scouts (who they get to perform the task). She called them “sissies,” figuring that “any boy, Boy Scout or not, should be tough enough to stick these little flags down in the ground deep enough so they won’t fall down, no matter how hard the wind blows.” It was hard to disagree. Besides, as a father knowing my future is going to be trying enough when it comes to beating back the boys (any boys not just Scouts), I like their simple “boy=bad” logic and, for now, will just leave it as it is. The longer they think ALL boys are bad, the longer I’ll have peace of mind. Anyway, here’s a picture of them deciding on their own to say a final goodbye before we left the cemetery.

Peace of mind isn’t exactly what I got when I gazed up through the headstones of over 41,000 interments set up the steep New Mexico hillsides in perfectly aligned rows. Standing in a National Cemetery on Memorial Day while the fence-sitting chaos, ongoing turmoil and American death in Iraq continues doesn’t give me any peaceful thoughts. The unrest weighed even heavier when I thought about that earlier in the day, before we came down to the cemetery, I got to experience the excitement and pride of watching my own daughter, Indy, ride her bike for the first time without training wheels, and now, here I was staring at the fresh gravesite of a young soldier killed in Iraq who will never get to experience the same joy.

The failed leadership and moral cowardice of this country’s elected officials, including President Bush, is abominable.